Old WoD Tales- A Tree Growls in Britain
Posted: Tue Aug 19, 2003 3:15 amMore Ancient Invasions- A Tree Growls in Britain
The boogeyman is always out there. Lions, tigers and bears are to be reckoned with, but all you can do with the boogeyman is pull the covers over your head so you don’t have to watch what he does to you. In ancient WoD, we had a boogeyman lurking just beyond the Eastern borders of the city of our birth. That boogeyman was called ent. Yes, we had learned to kill skeletons and rats and mongbats and the occasional troll- but no mortal could possibly stand up to the dreaded ent. Many were the hapless adventurers who wondered too far into the forest and too far out on a limb (metaphorically and otherwise). That sucking, smooching sound is a horrible final memory to take to your grave. To this day, when I see an ent, I freeze, taking a moment to remember that they are now just so much kindling on the hoof.
I cannot quite recall my first word or my first step or even my first bicycle, but I remember with crystal clarity the first time I kissed my wife and the first time I killed an ent. Now, I could tell you that the foul beast invaded Britain intent on overthrowing the Queen and that only that the courage of Homer Oldham prevented us from living under a royal family tree of trees. I won’t say that, however, even though the beast eventually died right on the arched stairway between North and South Britain in the heart of the city. You see, the truth is that I LURED the dread boogeyman into the heart of our fragile world.
It was really not my fault, though. I was the helpless victim of an irresistible compulsion. On the one side were thosed cursed ents. The ents had taken everything from me. They took my first good leather armor and my favorite swords and my tool bags- over and over again. It was not a case of fair fights- them winning sometimes and me winning others- the ents always won. Slurp, slurp there goes my lifeblood. Suck, suck there go the logs it took me three hours to chop. And it wasn’t just me- they killed us all anytime they wanted. It was past time for them to pay- at least one ent on one day had to pay.
On the other side, there was the bow. It was a new weapon in the world- at least it was newly effective. We had been able to throw arrows around for a while, but generally it just made the creatures we shot really cranky and once they got close and began to express their crankiness, we could no longer use the bow. The other thing about bows- they were made of wood, of trees. They hold the potential for ironic magic. Now, I remembered the Great Skeleton Knight Invasion, and I wondered if the ledges in Britain combined with the magic bow might somehow produce a bit of ent justice.
It was not difficult to lure the boogeyman. A taste of my blood and it was overcome with its lust for the rest. It did not fear the soft, weak creatures of the city. Not until that day. Of course, once I had it in the city, it did not die easily. Even in those days, the monsters were not fools. The boogeyman did not keep lunging ineffectively in the same place to better serve as a target for my bow. Time and again it turned and fled and I had to suffer its sucking thorns to rekindle its bloodlust. Time and again it turned the tables on me, managing to join me on a ledge, trying to pin me there and feed. My arrows often missed and seldom did much damage. The battle seemed to stretch for hours. When at last I got my first view of a horizontal ent, I checked to find 3 arrows left in my pack.
To bring the boogeyman to town was wrong, if not a crime. No innocent was harmed, but they could have been. I brought danger to town that day, but also a little bit of justice.
The boogeyman is always out there. Lions, tigers and bears are to be reckoned with, but all you can do with the boogeyman is pull the covers over your head so you don’t have to watch what he does to you. In ancient WoD, we had a boogeyman lurking just beyond the Eastern borders of the city of our birth. That boogeyman was called ent. Yes, we had learned to kill skeletons and rats and mongbats and the occasional troll- but no mortal could possibly stand up to the dreaded ent. Many were the hapless adventurers who wondered too far into the forest and too far out on a limb (metaphorically and otherwise). That sucking, smooching sound is a horrible final memory to take to your grave. To this day, when I see an ent, I freeze, taking a moment to remember that they are now just so much kindling on the hoof.
I cannot quite recall my first word or my first step or even my first bicycle, but I remember with crystal clarity the first time I kissed my wife and the first time I killed an ent. Now, I could tell you that the foul beast invaded Britain intent on overthrowing the Queen and that only that the courage of Homer Oldham prevented us from living under a royal family tree of trees. I won’t say that, however, even though the beast eventually died right on the arched stairway between North and South Britain in the heart of the city. You see, the truth is that I LURED the dread boogeyman into the heart of our fragile world.
It was really not my fault, though. I was the helpless victim of an irresistible compulsion. On the one side were thosed cursed ents. The ents had taken everything from me. They took my first good leather armor and my favorite swords and my tool bags- over and over again. It was not a case of fair fights- them winning sometimes and me winning others- the ents always won. Slurp, slurp there goes my lifeblood. Suck, suck there go the logs it took me three hours to chop. And it wasn’t just me- they killed us all anytime they wanted. It was past time for them to pay- at least one ent on one day had to pay.
On the other side, there was the bow. It was a new weapon in the world- at least it was newly effective. We had been able to throw arrows around for a while, but generally it just made the creatures we shot really cranky and once they got close and began to express their crankiness, we could no longer use the bow. The other thing about bows- they were made of wood, of trees. They hold the potential for ironic magic. Now, I remembered the Great Skeleton Knight Invasion, and I wondered if the ledges in Britain combined with the magic bow might somehow produce a bit of ent justice.
It was not difficult to lure the boogeyman. A taste of my blood and it was overcome with its lust for the rest. It did not fear the soft, weak creatures of the city. Not until that day. Of course, once I had it in the city, it did not die easily. Even in those days, the monsters were not fools. The boogeyman did not keep lunging ineffectively in the same place to better serve as a target for my bow. Time and again it turned and fled and I had to suffer its sucking thorns to rekindle its bloodlust. Time and again it turned the tables on me, managing to join me on a ledge, trying to pin me there and feed. My arrows often missed and seldom did much damage. The battle seemed to stretch for hours. When at last I got my first view of a horizontal ent, I checked to find 3 arrows left in my pack.
To bring the boogeyman to town was wrong, if not a crime. No innocent was harmed, but they could have been. I brought danger to town that day, but also a little bit of justice.