Oh, oh oh! Merry Santicorn!
So, Sven at Wanderers and Willows asked for "a unique take on ent/treefolk lore, or some random tables related to them".
Look no further, my friend! With only a few days of delay and (hopefully) few grammatical errors, I hereby present you your gift!
What do plants think of humans (but also goblins, dwarves etc... you get me, okay)? Many people, now and then, asked themselves this question.
Lumberjacks, who chop wood. Farmers, who snatch precious soil from them. Gardeners, who mutilate and arrange them according to fickle aesthetic standards.
Truth be told, most of the Plantae kingdom members does not concern themselves with us. Their lives span centuries if not millennia, and they've started to think of us as a sentient species only lately. Building structures and using tools did not give away any meaningful hint, insects and birds do that all the time. To be honest, there were reports from shrubs and flowers sent into human territories, but no one believed them at first.
This does not apply to Ents. Ents are obsessed with us.
WHAT ARE ENTS, THEN?
Being a tree is boring. There was quite an (unsurprisingly quiet) uproar when they realized humans were not as mindless as they first thought. It's like waking up one day and finding out that your dog, who was happily chasing his own tail yesterday, has built a car.
Some were frightened. Others were fascinated. Assemblies were called and much deliberations ensued. So, while the first ones struggled to come to terms with it, the others decided to have a closer look.
There are no reports of Ents prior than a few years ago. This is because, while becoming an Ent is a recent trend among arboreal aristocracy, a fad spreading from root to root through slow but enthusiastic chemical gradients takes centuries to find enough followers. Imagine the outrage when some of the most radical ones decided that obsessing over us wasn't enough. They started to mimic us, reproducing that crazy expenditure of energy called "movement". It took a while, but now they have the gist of it.
WHAT DO ENT WANT?
To learn more about humans. To do human stuff. They are no stranger to the act of eating: birds, insects and even some distant, outlandish cousins are capable of doing that. Cooking is a different matter. It terrifies and fascinates them at the same time, expecially the part where we use fire.
To own and breed humans. Every Ent has at least one or two specimens they're really proud of, usually kept on display in their homes. They can be bought, found or, well, "adopted".
To educate humans -They cut us and eat us because they don't know any better. Just like we learned how to walk, they will learn how to perform photosyntheti- why can't you seem to stand still for more than one day, silly? At this rate, you'll never grow roots! Oh, they're driving me crazy, but they're so cute, you know-
To study humans. A few among the Ents are in pursuit of something bigger than a menagerie. They've seen what some humans are capable of, and crave the power to set their enemies on fire o to grow unfettered, not bound by water, soil and sun.
WHERE TO FIND THEM
The typical Ent village is always hidden, but not too well- they lowkey want to be found. Their homes (a shelter from the rain, how lovely!) are usually little more than roughly arranged boulders in the shape of a house. Occasionally someone embarks on more ambitious projects, which usually end with a lot of frustrations and stones being thrown around. They have yet to develop fine motor skills, but they're getting there.
When they're not resting (going around is exhausting, after all), they'll be tending to their humans.
They wear skins and furs, hanging from their branches. This is not a contradiction: just like one of us could worship cats madly but not reserve the same courtesy to rabbits, so there are preferences and currents of thought among the Ents.
They wear skins and furs, hanging from their branches. This is not a contradiction: just like one of us could worship cats madly but not reserve the same courtesy to rabbits, so there are preferences and currents of thought among the Ents.
These differences can sometimes degenerate into full-fledged wars, which tend to involve nearby settlements.
Will they be happy to see you? Definitely. They will wave their branches and coil their roots around your feet before remembering that's not how you speak with humans. Sometimes they'll have translator birds, otherwise I hope you're ready to play charade with a 30ft tall overly-enthusiastic tree.
Will they let you leave? Not necessarily. But if you could stay and teach them proper etiquette, they would be so grateful.
WHAT ARE THESE WEIRD LOOKING TREES UP TO?
1-Cooking. They've arranged a bunch of animal corpses into a pile and they're smashing them to a pulp with heavy boulders, all while humming happily.
2- Playing catch. The game will be preceded by a mass escape of all the animals in the vicinity.
3-Trying to speak human. The tree you're resting against just bent over you, twisting and snapping their trunks and branches in a haunting cacophony of screeching. They're saying "Hello friend!".
4-Nursing. Carefully placing a bunch of screaming adventurers inside their hollowed out trunk, where you will be safe until we get home.
5-Tending to their beloved ones. Trying to prune humans to make them grow stronger. It is not working. Disappointment is growing and so is the number of corpses.
6- Defending their honor. Marching towards an enemy settlement, on the verge of a fandom war.
SOME ENT NPCs FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT
1- A Carob who longed to be a mother. Their branches are home to a bunch of rowdy goblins who were mistaken as human babies and whom they love dearly. The goblins are living like kings, going around stealing stuff while they're not busy eating carob pods. There's some loot stashed away in the trunk, but the mother is very protective of their children and their toys.
2-The Old Sycamore, once symbol of the Wizard Academy. They have gorged themselves for decades on raw magic, seeping from the nearby wizard graveyard. After being struck down by an incautious apprentice's lightning, they were sold off to a sawmill and soon forgotten.
Now they roam the land, a dead and scorched sycamore trunk, overgrown with moss and fungi, carried around by a servile hill giant. Somehow still thinking, gifted with the power of undeath and magic, and very resentful.
3-A giant and strong Oak. Good-natured but dim-witted. Always accompanied by their trusted blackbird, who acts as advisor and interpreter. Unbeknowst to the Ent, the bird has a bone or two to pick with humans and is fond of translating according to her whims.