Inside the forest, the faint rustling of leaves whispered through the trees, as though unseen creatures were scurrying in the shadows above. The air was thick with tension, the scent of damp earth and moss blending with the faint tang of something primal. The low hum of life echoed all around—a distant birdcall, the occasional snap of a branch—but none of these sounds overpowered the foreboding stillness that crept over the area.
Suddenly, dark figures began pouring from the canopy, one after another, until the clearing in the forest swarmed with lizardmen. They moved with precision, forming a loose circle and leaving a central path open. Some remained perched in the trees, their glowing eyes gleaming like embers in the dark, scanning the ground below for threats.
The lizardmen were a striking sight—tall, lean, and covered in scales that shimmered faintly in the dim light. Their hues ranged from deep green to dusky brown, with some speckled in black or streaked with reddish undertones. Each had sharp, angular features, and their claws gleamed like polished obsidian. A row of spines ran down their back, their forked tongues flickered occasionally, tasting the humid air for signs of danger or prey.
Each lizardman wore a dark cloak that obscured their face, lending them an ominous air. The cloaks blended seamlessly with their natural surroundings, making them appear as though they had emerged from the forest itself. From the treetops, a lone figure descended with deliberate slowness, his movements precise and commanding. As he stepped onto the central path, the gathered lizardmen turned their attention toward him in reverent silence.
Their leader, was an imposing figure. His cloak hung loosely over his broad shoulders, but even that could not hide the countless scars crisscrossing his scales—marks of battles fought and survived. One jagged scar ran across his snout, a vicious memory of an enemy's blade, while another curved down his neck, as though carved by fire or claws. His amber eyes seemed glow in the low light, radiating an intensity that seemed to pierce through the soul of anyone who met his gaze. The spines along his back were larger and more jagged than most, a natural testament to his strength and experience.
At the end of the path, another lizardman stood stiffly, clearly awaiting judgment, he was the one nearly got them caught. Ur'ak's gaze burned with a fiery intensity as he approached, his steps deliberate.
"It was a mis—" the lizardman began, his voice trembling, but before he could finish, Ur'ak's clawed hand lashed out in a swift, brutal motion. The strike landed hard, leaving shallow gashes across his face. Blood dripped steadily onto the forest floor, dark and viscous in the faint moonlight.
"Foolish child!" Ur'ak snarled, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "Do you not understand how important this mission is? If you planned to act so recklessly, why come at all?"
The chastised lizardman lowered his head, his voice a quiet murmur. "Forgive me, Ur'ak."
Ur'ak turned his back on the offender, addressing the crowd with a booming voice. "I have told you all before—there is no room for error. If any of you lack resolve, leave now. I will not hold it against you."
The forest seemed to hold its breath. The only sound was the faint rustle of leaves as a breeze swept through the canopy. Ur'ak's piercing gaze scanned the gathering, daring someone to step away. Not a single lizardman moved.
"Good," he said, nodding slowly. "I admire your courage, my brothers. These bloody supremacists stole our lands and turned us from hunters and farmers into killers. The Frjals gave us hope when we had none. Even if it means laying down our lives, we shall persevere. They are the light of our future, the salvation of our generations unborn.
"Now, spread out. Watch those three—and especially the red-haired woman. Do not let her out of your sight."
The lizardmen moved as one, their movements a symphony of silent precision. They disappeared into the trees without a sound, melting into the darkness as if they had never been there. The clearing fell deathly silent once more, save for the faint creak of branches swaying overhead.
Ur'ak remained in place, his thoughts dark. The reports were clear—this woman has been at the heart of too many incidents to ignore but that guard he seems to have sharp senses. We cannot afford to take risks.
"Ur'ak!"
The call snapped him from his thoughts. He turned to see Tal'oul, the young lizardman he had just disciplined, standing hesitantly behind him.
"Apologies for disturbing you," Tal'oul said, his voice quivering. "You seemed deep in thought."
Ur'ak's expression remained impassive. "Why are you still here and not on patrol, Tal'oul?"
Tal'oul's claws clenched into his palms, drawing blood. "I'm sorry! I truly am. I give you my word—I will only please you from now on. Even if it means pushing beyond my limits, even if it destroys me... I'll do whatever it takes!"
Drops of crimson dripped onto the dirt as Tal'oul's claws pierced his skin. Ur'ak's sharp eyes noticed this, and a faint smile flickered across his face. He has always been excessive, just like his father.
Walking up to the young lizardman, Ur'ak pulled a cloth from his cloak and wrapped it around Tal'oul's bleeding hand with surprising gentleness. "You remind me of your father," he said, his voice softer now. "Overzealous and stubborn." He chuckled faintly, though his eyes betrayed a sadness. "He was my dear friend before they took him from us."
Tal'oul's voice was hesitant. "The High Order..."
"Yes, child," Ur'ak replied, his tone heavy. "They sent their men to burn our village to the ground. Your father stayed behind, holding them off so the rest of us could escape. He fought until his last breath. He died an honorable death."
Tal'oul bowed his head, his grief visible in the slump of his shoulders. But Ur'ak reached out, lifting his chin with a firm yet gentle hand.
"I know it may seem as though I am hard on you," Ur'ak said. "But it is only because I hold you in high regard. I know you will make your people—and your father—proud."
Tal'oul's eyes burned with fierce determination. "I won't let you down again. I give you my word."
Without another word, he turned and sprinted into the forest. As he disappeared into the shadows, one thought echoed in his mind: I'll make you and my father proud Ur'ak.