The End of the Northern Expedition, the North American Tribes and Pamus City

A shivering autumn wind blew through the valley, yellowing the scrub trees of the wasteland and bringing with it a cold, killing chill. Great Chieftain Chichica had died in battle, and all the Guachichil People's tribes lost their will to fight. Over the next few days, the Mexica Legion marched swiftly all the way, pursuing the fleeing and sweeping up the defeated, accepting surrenders and gathering in the broken remnants.

Red Monkey Chieftain Ozoma did not go back on his word. He had been gone only a day before he returned with Red Deer Chief Masat and offered up Pamus City at the center of the valley.

Led by the two Guachichil chiefs, Xolotl brought his personal troops slowly north, entering the fertile valley that stretched dozens of miles around. Black Wolf's banner flew high, and thousands of armored warriors wore faces full of killing frost. They passed harvested farmland, passed tribespeople prostrate in fear, and finally arrived before an ancient, crude little city.

The little city was not small in area, yet it was not a city in the strict sense. More precisely, it resembled a large tribal encampment. Around it was only a low wall as tall as a man, plus a ring of enclosing palisades. The low city wall was not even fully closed, leaving a wide opening on the western side. The opening pressed against a winding river, where several thousand mu of farmland had been opened up. There were no canals in the fields; everything depended on streams from the mountains, and now the land was filled with withered yellow stalks.

"Crude defenses, open terrain, no city walls to rely on... No wonder Chichica clung so stubbornly to the valley mouth."

Xolotl stopped before the little city and observed carefully for a long while before