The galleys had returned first, to the harbor of Celsinus. They had brought tidings of their defeat at the hands of the Lituuramas navy off the mountainous coast to their south. The many remaining hunters returned next, some passing through to Cambrius. They told they tale of how the Panagakamas generals had failed them, how the famed courage of their soldiers had wavered when the hour grew dark. No matter how many arrows shot, or javelins slung, the Lituuramas army cleaved through their opposition. Being in the back, the hunters were able to easily escape the rout, and returned to their homeland.

After this debacle, the oligarchs of the next few generations would become distrustful. After all, the great Wanax had promised them riches beyond compare with their assured victory. And yet, in the coming year, tales would reach the Arthe city-states of the flight of the Panagakam, forced out of their own homeland by a fearsome new enemy on their northern reaches. The Arthe city-states stood alone, backed only by the goodwill of each of the other three. From this defeat, the oligarchs were made aware of their own possible weakness. The archers and peltasts of the Arthe were well trained, they would need cover, whether it be made of stone or of flesh.

The art of stone walls had been recently mastered, and practice for the men of bow and spear were put into place, in the event of defense of one of their cities. An effort was put into place to try and organize the small mercenary retinues of the oligarchs. The result was not necessarily an organized fighting force, but basic orders were able to followed, and they were able to separate into groups consisting of spears and non-spears. If the Arthe were to be caught with their trousers down, they would only be around their knees, and not on the ground.