The Uncuttable Wood

Update day. Graggle-Rock outpost, Fenmoor Swamp outskirts

Another update, the gods had changed things. He did not care. The gods changed what they changed. Sometimes they blessed soldiers, made them stronger. Other times called on orcs to form raids and roam the lands. Sometimes the ground would be covered with snow, or the wood in the swamp would be scary for a while. It didn’t matter, he would chop the wood, rebuild outpost, prepare for sacrifice. Just like always.

Captain would know if things changed, he would give new orders, but today was like all others, captain said get to work, so he chopped.

Update was always good for one thing, no one bothered outpost, players chased after whatever quest the gods had given them, so Orcs had more time to be near the uncuttable wood. This was all he needed, the sun, the uncut wood, chopping for Gorgug’s sacrifice. It was a good life for an Orc.

“What’s so great about this grove we are going to?” came a soft voice.

“It’s a fairy grove.” Came the response.

Voices were not orc voices, it was player voices. Oak did what woodcutters did, he stepped behind a tree and hid.

“Yeah, but how are we going to kill a fairy?”

“Did you read the update?”

“No, those are always way too long.”

“All the trees are interactable now.”

“So?”

“Oh my God you’re dense. The fairy hides in trees, so you can’t kill her, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But now you can destroy the trees.”

“Okay? This better be worth it, Ned. With Fairy evasion that fight is going to take forever.”

“Don’t worry about it, I'm fighting her, the drops are mine. We get the drop, you get your staff, all you have to do is heal me.”

The players were moving closer to him, his knees shook. He didn't like knees shake, he didn't like hide. But the gods said woodcutters hide and shake, so that's what happened.

“Are you sure the trees are destroyable?”

“If you could fucking read Sarah, you’d already know the answer.”

“Wow, no reason to be an ass, Ned.”

“This is why you don’t get into raids. Girls always ask stupid questions. Just do what I tell you and you'll get your dumb healing staff.”

There was silence for a minute.

“I’m sorry Sarah, I didn’t mean to yell at you. Here let me show you.”

Player walked closer, he could see them now. The player wore a robe, held a rod that was on fire. Behind walked a player in heavy armor with long, bright red hair.

“Okay, check the cherry tree.”

They stood and looked at the uncuttable wood.

“Yeah, it’s super high-level woodworking, requires the carpentry branch.”

“Yep, they expanded the crafting, and now this tree is a resource point, and destroyable.”

“Can you harvest it?”

“No, woodworking sucks, and carpentry is mostly for furniture, I’m an alchemist.”

“So how are you going to destroy the tree?”

“Like this.”

The player raised hands, put them together and fire shot out, the fire hit the uncuttable wood and it burst into flames, turned black and then disappeared.

The orc stood there, staring. Seeing the uncuttable wood burn broke something deep inside him. He didn’t think or even feel, he just took the few steps to cover the ground between him and player and chopped.

“Shit, that hurt, what the fuck?”

The player turned and raised his hands again, this time facing him, the fire came out, touched him, he felt pain and then darkness.

. . .

He stood up, the outpost and Captain were still standing, so respawn was quick. He looked, saw the players. He ran, charging the player, the fire shooter, the destroyer. He reached him and chopped.

“The fuck is this thing doing?” The player cast the fire again, again pain, again darkness.

. . .

He stood up, the player was coming towards the outpost. He charged again.

“Fucking low level orc shit.”

Fire, pain, darkness.

. . .

Nemesis gained: you will deal increased damage to nemesis until you avenge yourself or 24 hours pass.

He didn’t read the message, he just stood up. The outpost was on fire, the soldiers were fighting the player. He charged and chopped.

“The fuck? How is this stupid woodcutter hitting me that hard?” The player turned to face him.

Fire, pain, darkness.

. . .

He stood up, the outpost was gone, the captain was gone. He looked around, saw the player in the distance, leaving the cutting wood, going farther than woodcutters went.

He walked to the cutting wood, but he didn’t chop. He kept walking, to the edge of the cutting wood. It wasn’t there. The uncuttable wood was gone, the sun was shining, but no wood to shine through.

His grip on his axe tightened. He remembered where the player had been, the direction he had been heading, and he ran.

He couldn’t run long, he wasn’t soldier or guard, chasing players wasn’t his job. He didn’t make it to edge of cutting wood on that side before he was forced to stop and walk. When he did reach the edge, he stopped. No woodcutter left the cutting wood. He didn’t know if he could.

He took a deep breath, slowly stepped forward.

You have reached the end of your faction territory, proceeding will remove your sub-faction until you return to faction territory.

He didn’t care what the Gods had to say, not when uncuttable wood burned. He put his foot down, into uncut wood, took one more step, leaving the cutting wood, going farther than woodcutters go.