Forged Legacy

The small logging crew was in high spirits leaving Veil’s End, but excited conversations dwindled to subdued murmurs as they entered the shadowy forest. Harvey could feel the loss of Julian’s aura and was surprised to notice it stretched farther than before. Without it, the shadows got a little darker, and the monumental task of chopping down a beast-infested forest seemed more daunting.

There was a hint of something else Harvey could feel deep in his soul. It wasn’t the fear of his own stain or Gabe’s desire to run for the hills.

It was a ruthlessness that made him feel like a blade was trained at his throat.

The group walked to the edge of the treeline at the base of the mountain before turning to Harvey. A gentle uproar erupted as axes seemingly appeared from nowhere, and people enjoyed the magic show as he handed out tools. With the two original axes and the three new ones, they had 5 to spread between the 13 veilstriders.

“I say we start with the closest trees and work our way out. That will create a gap between the forest and the walls so nothing can sneak up on us.” Harvey called out. “Don’t worry about hauling logs around, we can throw them in the slipsack.”

“We’ve got a big group here, who’s going to start digging?” Gary asked.

“I was thinking we could pair up and work in shifts so we don’t get too tired. Two people per axe have 10 of us chopping down trees, and the last three can use the swords to clean the logs.” Harvey suggested.

“This will take all year if half of us are standing around all day. Your break from chopping can be digging.” Gary shot back.

Harvey was surprised to hear mostly mumbles of agreement from the crowd, so he handed shovels and pickaxes to the empty-handed veilstriders. “Alright, just don’t get so tired you can’t fight when trouble comes our way. If you’ve got an axe, always make sure you know who’s around you. Nobody should be in your blood circle.”

“What’s a blood circle?” A woman asked.

“Anything you would hit if you held the axe out and spun in a circle,” Harvey replied, remembering not everyone had gone through Boy Scout training like him.

“What it means is stay out of my way, it’s not my fault if I hit you,” Gary smirked, striding over to a tree before taking a massive swing. Harvey was stunned to see the axe head almost completely buried in the trunk. He’d worked on chopping these trees down himself and knew how hard they were.

“Yeah, I guess it boils down to staying out of each other's way. If you see anything coming towards us, call out. We’ll drop everything and group together to fight it off.” Harvey finished as people took tools and wandered away.

The survivors naturally filtered themselves to those who were best suited for each task. Those wearing the leather armor of the warrior class found an axe, picked a tree, and got to work. The robe and cloak-wearing hunters and arcanists picked up a shovel and began digging a trench just inside the main gate.

Harvey grabbed his own shovel and opted to work his way towards the base of the mountain, hoping to hide the yard behind the forge as soon as possible. After being constantly called away to load fallen trunks into the slipsack, he eventually gave up on digging and patrolled the worksite. He was still amazed each time an entire tree disappeared the second he touched it, appearing in the empty void in his mind with leaves and all. Trying to place a fourth inside, the sack rejected it, its space full. At least it didn’t crush things to fit.

He unloaded each into a pile on the main road and retrieved two swords from the warriors to create a station where bark, branches, and leaves could be cleaned away. He worked on the first himself and made a small pile before retrieving a burning branch from the bonfire and lighting it.

He recruited Amy and Elena to take over, throwing everything they didn’t need into his new burn pile. He expected Gary to groan about asking for their help while Harvey walked back and forth, but was surprised to see him hard at work, toppling trees like a machine. For every tree another axe chewed through, Gary chopped three. He expected the fat and greedy man to work slowly, but he was stronger than he looked.

Harvey understood why when Gary took off his leather chestpiece and the shirt underneath it, revealing a hairy chest and putting his fat stomach on full display. As he wiped the sweat from his brow, Harvey spotted a black, silver, and red tattoo on his right arm, just beneath his shoulder. He was too far away, and Gary was moving too much to get a good look at it, but he guessed it had to be a mark. Looking at it intensified the ruthless feeling hanging in the air.

Noticing his staring, Gary set the axe on his shoulder and called out, grinning wide. “Like what you see, Scoutmaster?”

The rhythmic swing of tools quieted as the group turned to look at them.

“I was just looking at your tattoo,” Harvey called out. “Is it a mark?”

“Yep, the bona fide article. Had a lot of tattoos before I died, lost about $20,000 worth of work. I was pissed until I learned I’d be getting new ones.” Gary laughed.

“My tattoos disappeared too! I just thought Julian had kept his somehow. What’s a mark?” A young woman asked.

“Come see for yourself,” Gary said, a screen appearing for everyone to see.

The same tattoo sat clearly on the screen, the image of a bloodrunn head with a sword stabbed down through it, blood pooling underneath.