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“This is the most preposterous thing I have ever heard!” Hank was saying, his voice barely below a shout.
We were gathered in a backroom located in the rear of the Woodland town general store. I was standing in a small circle of men, most of them fellow lumberjacks. They were all looking at Hank as he railed against the new measures. But Hank was looking at the man seated in the center of the circle. He was a tall, slender man, smartly dressed, who wore a smirk on his face that suggested that he knew more about the world than all of the backwoodsmen who stood before him.
“The new rules have been put in place for two reasons,” the man from the Environmental League began slowly. “First of all, they prevent egregious over-harvesting of the Woodland forests. These woods are a national treasure and we can't allow people to simply destroy them for a profit! Secondly, it ensures that everyone on the server gets a fair share of the exports that we do allow. This prevents anyone lumberjack from running another out of business.”
The last sentence the gentleman made was directed at myself and my partner, Hank. There was no doubt about that. This entire situation had left me exhausted and depressed, but Hank absolutely refused to take this sitting down.
“That is utterly ridiculous,” he fired back. “No one comes to Woodland to see the forests! Tell me the last time this server has had a tourist. The woods here are worthless unless they are being harvested!”
The smug gentlemen said nothing but simply stared back staunchly at Hank.
“Not only that, but my partner and I have already begun an aggressive reforestation campaign! Every acre that we harvest is being replanted with more trees! There is absolutely no threat here.”
“Maybe not for you,” interjected a lumberjack standing off to the side. “And maybe not to the forests. But there is a threat to the livelihood of the rest of us! Since you two arrived you've cut into the profits that we were making! I can barely make ends meet now that you two supply virtually every major client.”
“You see sir? This new law is for the benefit of everyone here on the Woodland server.” the man from the Environmental League added.
Hank was so angry that he was nearly spitting bullets.
“You have a lot of nerve to blame us for your misfortunes,” he said, glaring at the other lumberjack. “You were here on this server long before Randy and I arrived. Are we to blame your laziness and lack of a work ethic? Everything we have we earned!”
“Sir,” the Environmental League spokesman said. “You have a civic duty to help your neighbors. It isn't his fault that he has been less fortunate than you. This new law will make Woodland a better, more just place for everyone.”
“If by better you mean it will ensure that no one can succeed, then I agree wholeheartedly,” Hank growled.
I could sense that there was nothing more to be gained from this meeting, and I grasped Hank's shoulder, indicating that it was time for us to leave. Hank turned and followed sullenly. We walked out of the backroom and through the general store, heading for the exit. We were about to step outside when the voice of the old shopkeeper caught our ear.
“Say,” he began. “You two ever heard of Healinwood?”
We stopped and looked back at him.
“What is Healinwood?” I asked.
“Come with me,” he said and waved his hand. “I have something to show you.”