Day the Thirteenth of the Tenth Moon, Year Two Thousand Ten and Eight

Twas a black day for genteel boating folk when the yellow sails and bladed oars of the dreaded boat-rowers of Minnesotus cut through the pacific waters of the gently blue River Ohio. Unprepar'd were the callow knights and squires and earthy footmen of the realm of Columbus, for though they had fought on battlefields both far and near against enemies both large and small (including a rather amusing tilt against the diminutive halflings of the Painted Gorge, who were armed entirely with marshmallows on sticks, as the courageous men of Columbus had fallen upon them midst their smore-roasting revelries), they had no preparations whatsoever to combat a foe upon the waters. 

Lord Urban of Meyer was quite displeased when he received a missive from his bannermen on the riverbank. The missive told of a terrible host of Gophermen (relatives of the Oregonian Beavermen, though quite distantly so) who had come upon boats with keels painted in the blood of their many foes. It is known now that this scourge was visited upon the banks of Ohio only by dint of the Gophermen's defeat at the hands of the Dark Wizard Ferentz and his undead army who marched under the banner of the Three Stars. So greatly were the fearsome Gopherman and their leader, the Pirate King Flekka, chastened and battered by the skeletons of Iowa that they fled heedlessly into the lands of the mighty realm of Ohio and the demesne of Lord Urban of Meyer. 

Such a foolish course could only end in their ruin, but even so they would not leave without wreaking terrible carnage and ruin upon the once peaceful River Ohio. Lord Urban did command a great ranging of boats to meet the Gopherman host upon the waters, and did entrust young Sir Haskins of the Strong Arm to lead this ranging. With seventy boats and nine hundred men at arms did Sir Haskins row upon the placid blue waters. He did not have a difficult search for his quarry, as they found the Gophermen by the trail of burning docks, shredded banners, and despoiled villages they had left in their wake. 

The first battle was a disaster. Though Sir Haskins acquitted himself admirably, inexperienced as he was at waterborne conflict, many of his underlings were less effective. The normally stout Sirs Dobbins and Weber lost control of their craft, hemmed by the much more experienced rudder-hands of their foes. Many sons of Ohio were skewered by wicked tridents, cut down by bladed oars, or even bitten by the snaggled teeth of their bestial opponents. Seeing there could be no triumph in such a battle, Sir Haskins blew his horn to sound a retreat. Fifteen boats and a full hundred men had been lost, while the Gophermen had also suffered their share of losses, and did not pursue the fleeing men of Ohio. This would prove a mistake. 

In allowing Sir Haskins and his men, including the gallant Sir Hill, to regroup and reorganize their ranks, the Gophermen and their King Flekka missed their greatest opportunity to strike a crippling blow against the forces of Ohio. Soon, Sir Haskins and his men turned their boats against the stream, and paddled once more toward their foe. The Gophermen were not prepared for such a quick return, and the first of their boats were caught unawares, their oars cut, the crews slaughtered. King Flekka blew his ancestral conch, and the Gophermen turned their boats to fight once more, roaring the ancient words of battle in their tongue: "Ski-U-Mah!" 

With Sir Hill at his side, Sir Haskins cut through a dozen crews of Gophermen, driving a wedge between their flotilla, separating their force into two. Split from one another and overwhelmed by a superior force, the Gophermen's fighting spirit quelled, and soon they were in full rout, individual crew taking their boats from the greater flotilla until even King Flekka himself had no choice but to flee himself. 

The River Ohio was safe once more, and never again would the Gophermen dream of invading the mighty Realm of Ohio or challenge its liege, Lord Urban of Meyer.