Wading through the mud. (Soloish? Undecided.)

The ropes groaned with strain as Tythiss put his weight into the handles and began to push the skid cart forward. This day he was assigned to logging, with others of his caste, overseen by a Wing Caste, who was intolerable, to say the least.

Tythiss was different, they all were really, but amongst the tend of his people he was certainly an outlier. Most of the Scale Caste were humans, that happened to have scales this is due to the interbreeding of the Drakari and humans, or dwarves, well the ancestors were promiscuous. Then the Claw Caste, there were soldiers, covered in scales, adorned with claws, and typically more robust than The Scalers. They stood about a head, head and a half taller than most. The Wing Caste is scaled and clawed and some are even shaped like the ancestors. They had huge chests to support their ability to fly. Lastly the Flame Caste. Smaller with thick necks and can breathe fire.

The skid cart gave way finally and began to move across the sodden forest floor. Tythiss was not human-shaped. He was decidedly shaped like a base creature, a reptile monikered as a crocodile. He had a long tooth-filled snout, a powerful tail, and nictitating membranes on his eyes. He was covered in scales, unlike his scale caste brethren. He did not bear claws but stood about twice the height of the tallest Clawling. His form was stout and strong with trunk-like limbs akin to the grand trees of his home.

At some point, likely when he was young, it was decided that he was scale caste, though he did not really fit in with any sort of the established order. He had no idea who his parents were. It was joked about that a desperate Clawling on campaign came across a very lovely and friendly crocodilian. Though never to The Gator’s face. He also had the Drakari temperament, and unlike most had the strength and size to do real harm if he chose.

As he grew, they realized they had made a sound choice by making Tythiss a scaler. It did not take a team to move a skid cart, or beasts of burden to aid the team. The big Croc was a team in one. He could fell the trees, adze the branches off, cut the logs to length, load the logs, and draw the skid cart to the mill. He was a bit slower than a well-trained team but required far fewer logistics to support.

Tythiss’ feet were sinking to about mid-calf while he dragged the cart full of timber back to the mill. His chest heaving as he moved along, the muck sucking at his feet in protest at being disturbed. Typically he was happy with his lot, but year after year of being treated as refuse, when he looked closer to the progenitors than anyone.

It was best to keep those thoughts on the inside.

Simple work as this allowed the mind to wander quite far and wide. Though with a limited amount of experience, Tythiss’ version of far and wide was hardly worldwide. Though he did have dreams, as simple as they were.

A simple life of the land where his labors benefitted himself the most and perhaps the community next. Land ownership. A family, though that was very unlikely. Tythiss could easily just settle for a group of acquaintances and friends. His social interactions thus far had simply been work-related. He was happy enough for it, truth be told. As he excelled at his labors and found most of his enjoyment in them.

His thoughts returned to the present as he approached the lumber mill and the drop-off for his load of timber. He drew the skid cart along the staked spot. Tythiss dropped the roped handles used to pull the load, he turned and looked at his work coming alongside the stakes. He noted that he was a little far away and moved to correct his error. Grasping the side of the cart, he dug his feet into the mud as his powerful legs slid the cart sideways. A little less than a meter, he dragged the cart sideways until it ran abut the marked area.

The big croc walked to the front and pulled out of a basket there two wedges and a mallet. Then circling to the side opposite the unloading area, Tythiss drove the wedges between the skid and the ground to tilt the cart. It was then a simple task of untying the rope that bound the logs and they would roll off the cart much easier.

As expected, when the knot was released, the logs began to tumble into the holding area of the mill. Once the timber had stopped rolling about Tythiss climbed into the cart and began to heave the few remaining logs off the cart. It was only a short time before he had completed the task and set about preparing the cart for another run.

“Hey! Scaled!”

Tythiss looked up as he worked and saw a fellow scaled, though this one was the operator of the mill and thusly thought he was better than his brethren in the same caste. It also seems that the mill manager was addressing the gator. So Tythiss stood and looked at him as the manager moved a bit closer.

“I need you to stop and help me load the logs onto the mill.” The manager informed Tythiss. The gator shook his head.

“Not your crew.” He reminded the manager. It was true though he was assigned under felling today not milling.

“What was that, scaler?” a different voice called. This voice dripped with entitlement. Soon enough the croc saw why. Claw caste, most likely the owner of the mill. He walked up behind his scaler manager who puffed with pride, emboldened by proxy to his higher caste employer.

“Not milling. Felling.” Tythiss informed them. Straightening his posture a bit more now that this situation had changed from dealing with a peer to dealing with a superior clawling.

“Is that so?” The Clawling replied, the rhetorical nature was not lost on Tythiss, so the croc waited to be informed why it was not so.

(I am still alive. The free time I suddenly had and was planning to dedicate to writing got consumed. I am trying to shuffle the new madness about.)

"The crew here is short," The clawling said, looking at his scaler subordinate. "Good, capable help is tough to come by."

The scaler manager could be seen wilting at his superior's words, then started to attempt to slink away to no avail, as the clawling stopped him with a warning.

"So," the claw caste continued. "You will be loading the logs into the mill to be split. You will do this until there are no more unsplit logs. After reconfiguring the mill, you will load the split logs to be planked."

The clawling walked up to the mill manager and took his face in his hand, forcing him to look into the clawling's eyes.

"If you break anything again, I will skin you and fashion…" his eyes looked away, letting the threat sink in most like. "A belt. Yes, I think you would make a fine belt." Tossing the scaler's face dismissively as he turned to leave.

Tythiss sighed and looked at the backlog of lumber in need of processing. The mill was short on personnel longer than just the day. The large gator moved to the skid cart he had just brought in. It was as good a place as any to start.

The Croc crouched and let one of the logs roll to his shoulders before he stood again. Then with careful plodding steps, he moved the lumber onto the saw guide. He pushed it up to the start of the mechanism that would catch the log and drag it into the saw. Well, it would if the scaler had engaged the water wheel.

Tythiss looked about for the manager. He probably scurried after the clawing for more bootlicking.