The sky was dark, the moon covered by thick clouds, allowing only traces of light to seep through the tall trees of Erathal Forest. All of the sentient races had gathered near one of the central lakes in the forest, setting up a series of dugouts and fortifying their position. Things were not looking good, and with rumors of a demon lord sweeping through the area, the morale of those gathered could definitely use a boost.
Ulagret, a young and eager elvish warrior, swung his stone axe against a large oak, slowly picking away at the thick trunk of the tree. Behind him, there were dozens of other soldiers digging trenches. Centaur, lamia, felite, lizock, satyr, trolls, and elves alike all worked together digging their defenses and chopping down trees to reinforce their position. The air was tense, and as Ulagret continued swinging he felt the sweat collecting under his chin.
Innap worked on the tree immediately to his right, chopping away at a brisk pace. This mysterious satyr was one of Ulagret’s only friends in the army, and probably the only person who took his suggestions seriously. Standing only a few inches shorter than Ulagret, Innap was quite tall for his species and wise beyond his years. His brilliant, brown fur evenly covered his entire body and he wore but a simple cloth about his waist, a flute always slung around his shoulder. Rumor had it that this half-goat, half-elf warrior was one of the few who had survived the great battle with the arch demon of the east.
As Ulagret chipped away at his tree, he shouted over to Innap. “Do you think we will ever rid these lands of the demons?” he said, his words slightly labored by his fatigue.
“Evorath would not have created this world only to let it be consumed by some arch demons. We will win, and one day these lands will be peaceful,” replied Innap. Somehow he still seemed full of energy.
“You really think so, or are you just trying to keep up appearances?”
“I am sure of it,” responded the satyr absolutely. Somehow, Innap’s confidence filled Ulagret with inspiration of his own.
Focusing on the task at hand, Ulagret continued chipping away, ignoring the tiny shards of wood that impacted his face and landed on his woolen tunic. This was the last tree he needed to chop, and then he would be allowed to break for fifteen minutes. Innap was also on his last tree. With a few more chops, he took a step back and heard the crackling of his tree. It was getting ready to fall.
“Clearance!” Ulagret shouted at the top of his lung, letting his arms rest at his side as he took a few more steps back and watched the tree as it began to fall.
It took a few moments and then with a snap it came crashing down away from the dugouts being prepared. Dirt shot up in all directions as the tree landed with a thud. A few larger shards of bark sprayed Ulagret in the face and chest.
Innap looked back toward Ulagret before resuming his own chopping. “Good one. Looks like you won this round. I’ll meet you back at the dugouts shortly.”
Ulagret took a slight bow and turned away from his friend, trotting back towards the dugouts with a snap in his step. His break might be short, but after this he had only one more difficult task before returning to the easy work. Though his next job would be an hour of digging, his final task before night’s end would be to work on fletching for the arrow supply. This was the kind of work he enjoyed. Prior to the destruction of his village and the invasion of the demons, Ulagret had been a craftsman, working with more fine motor skills to make amulets and simple jewelry. His only wish was to someday return to that simple life.
“Oh, looks like Ulagret finished his chopping rotation.” The voice came from just below ground level, rising up from the dugout’s ladder.
Slowing his step, Ulagret frowned as the figure rose up from below, two others following quickly behind. The one who had just spoken was Tizzeran, an older lizock warrior with a nasty attitude. Following behind him marched Yin’ Lau, a massive felite, and taking up the rear was Uugmoa, a troll shaman.
“I’m surprised your wimpy arms were able to chop for so long,” continued Tizzeran. “I’d have thought you would have injured yourself after a few minutes.” The other two laughed.
“Yes, hurt yourself, we were all sure you would,” added Yin’ Lau. The way that felite spoke had always bothered Ulagret.
Putting on a fake smile, Ulagret shrugged, purposing bringing his axe up in an exaggerated motion.
“Sorry to disappoint you guys. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve only got fifteen minutes to relax and you just wasted one of them.”
Ulagret stepped to the right to avoid Tizzeran and his crew, but as he was just about clear Uugmoa took a large step and bumped into the much smaller elf. The force was enough to cause him a stumble, and Ulagret almost went face first into the dugout. Dropping his axe, he wiped himself off before proceeding down the ladder.
As he descended, he heard all three of Tizzeran’s crew laugh.
There was little point in responding to this bullying. Ulagret was young, and his eagerness to fight was often the butt of jokes among his peers. Reaching the bottom of the ladder, he took off to the right, passing a few satyr who were leaning against the wall resting, a pair of lamia who were hissing some gossip under their breath, and a half dozen elves. As he passed each group, he gave them a slight nod, but most of them ignored him in return.
After about a minute of walking through the dugouts, he reached his chosen spot, which he kept track of with Innap’s sword. It was one of the few in the army forged from iron, and as Innap told it he had received it in exchange for a hearty verse he had sung to an elderly dwarf. Though Ulagret had never heard dwarves to be much for trading iron for song, he appreciated that it made a pretty good story.
As he sat down next to the sword, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. There wasn’t much time, but he needed to take what little he had to relax.
