Anyone who has ever been told of the tales has come to the same conclusion. The assumptions many have predicted are, most of the time, correct. The folk of the trees have always been recognized for their extensive knowledge and wisdom about nature and its surroundings. Some say they are too smart for their own good which has always sparked a point of interest in the minds of many surrounding evils – not in a good way either.
In the ancient past, during a time of prosperity for the region of Treefolk, there was peace between the tall standing oak and the tribes of the south. 500 years have gone by since the peace treaty had collapsed; things have become drastically worse throughout the years. There is a story, still told to this day, of the struggle the Ancient Oak of the north had against the empowering evil forces of the Disarks – most Disarks were born in the South. They were to join the Bone Legion at a young age. The much wiser Southerners stayed away from the legion, tucked away within the deep caverns of the mines.
The Bone Legion, still existing today, is a gang of villainous peoples who, no longer, have a specific region to call their own. They thrive in darkness and feed on the weak, searching day after day for their next victims. The Disarks don’t have time to settle down or conquer land of their own. The non-stop effort towards total domination of the planet Zaraas takes up all their time. Strenuous battles and the unforgotten struggle of the past has been instilled within the northern region of lush growth – engraved and etched in the innermost lining of all, mighty Oak.
The legend has it that the Disarks are after one thing and one thing only…power. In order to obtain strength suitable to their liking, they need something Treefolk citizens have; a segment of root from the Tree of Endowment. It is said that the tree’s central root system has capabilities of harnessing energy within its flesh. Bearer of the root will have enough power to summon the greatest of all creatures – this not even being the best of it.
A much greater ability is at stake; the ability to give the illustrious creature’s catastrophic skills, to any of whom who wishes to consume part of the root. The Disarks’ thirst for power and a single master plan had now been set in place. Their lust for the greatest power of all was now foreseen as attainable. A new-found realization set off immediate rage within the Bone Legion alliance. Their targets were none other than the Treefolk. With weapons in hand and intense acrimony in their eyes, hundreds of blood thirsty Disarks charged north. After many long traveled miles already behind them with great distance still to go, nothing seemed to slow down their foot pace. Evil and rage within their dilated pupils remained.
A few hurried nights of travel later, the lustful Disarks finally arrived at the outermost edge of forest. The thick jungle stood massive and eerily dark forth the army lines. Without hesitation, they swept the grounds quietly. They scaled the trees from bottom to top, and kidnapped any newborn they came across. Some of them formed small groups and held hands for prayer to their malicious gods, chanting, and mumbling an old curse under their cold breath straight from the pages of the Book of Bones.
The curse they muttered under rank breath put a permanent bind on whatever, or whomever, it was cast upon. If accomplished correctly, the curse could not be broken by even the most powerful counter forces. Their plan was working, a marvelous success for the Legion. The weak were captured and thrown into hemp bags, while the Oak had been bound by the curse, pacifying the knowledgeable trees forever. The night was still young when they made a formal decision resolving that their collections were enough, and fled. They left behind nothing but childless homes and dwindling campfires; campfires that had been lit only hours before.