Long ago there was just the wild, a never ending horizon of green trees. But then something happened, something so small akin to a spark. But like a spark something so insignificant it could fade in a moment, but if it were to walk down another path it could cause a towering inferno. Man came with sharp axes, hacking away at supple wood. They would skin and gouge it until its body was unrecognisable. A chair. A house. Boats. All once were great oaks, torn down and perversely mutilated until their dead corpses were just another tool for man. And they were the lucky ones. The rest were tossed into burning hungry furnaces, fuelling man’s industry and painting the sky black with smog. A world of wood became one of steel and stone. In the corners of the world, the wilderness huddled. A tiny shard of what once was. Soon to be consumed, like all the rest. But something happened. Man made a mistake.

Soon the towering cities were empty, bereft of the lights of industry and the endless uproarious bustle of humanity, and now nothing, not even a whisper. The wild crawled out of its hiding place. It was so small, as insignificant as a spark. But you already know what hell a single spark can unleash. Roots and vines tightly wrapped themselves around man’s world, like a noose around a dead man’s neck. The forest hungrily reclaimed the land. Soon, all there will be is an endless horizon of grinning trees. But perhaps, soon, you see another spark. But it could be nothing. But for now all there is are towering oaks and the near twilight caused by a great monolithic tree canopy blocking out the sun. Under there you sit, surrounding by roots and dead leaves. Tiny and huddled. Afraid and alone. But maybe, just maybe, we have found our spark.

Oak rot

So you have an interest in leaving your little village? Exploring the outside world? Escaping from its large fortified walls and making a name for yourself in the wider world? The purpose of this book is to tell you calmly and reasonably why that’s a fucking terrible idea and to catalogue the seemingly endless ways this messed up world can kill you.

First, Oak Rot

Never go to sleep in the forests. No matter how tired, no matter how your body aches, never close those eyes. As soon as you fall to the ground and peacefully slumber, dark roots twist up around you, tightly binding your body, and if you don’t have a buddy to immediately kick you awake, you risk never waking up. You will sleep more peacefully than the rest of the dead, but the roots won’t just grow around you they will grow into you, boring into your flesh. A hand will slowly wrinkle and darken, until its hard wood. Tiny leaves and flower buds will blossom from your body. Your peaceful resting face, ever immortalised in wood. But getting to the point, fuck this poetic language – you fall asleep in the woods, you get turned into a tree statue. It’s feasible to cure oak rot if it’s in its very early stages, but you need a sharp knife and preferably to have not eaten anything that morning. Otherwise your stomach’s contents are probably going to be all over the floor. Amputation isn’t exactly a calming activity. Some more, I would call backwoods people, purposefully infect humans with oakrot. If you want to forever immortalise a dying loved one as a wooden statue, the reasoning is – being a tree is probably better than being dead. Or for our more fucked-up clientele, to turn your enemies into a wooden trophy - surrounding yourself with people you dislike in frozen wood. It’s considered the pinnacle of cool in some of the more psychopathic parts of society.

Lily’s notes on oakrot.

Two hours after subject falls asleep, vines and roots will begin to wrap round their body. After four hours subject will not wake naturally. And only can be roused with physical force or excessively loud noises. After 6 hours roots and vines will begin to dig into their skin. Subject can be saved at this point but amputation is necessary. Ten hours is the point of no return. The roots would have sufficiently wrapped themselves around the subjects internal organs, that amputation would be lethal to subject. Around 48 hours till subject’s total conversion to wood. It seems oakrot can only infect pure strain humans, animals and humanoids who have mutated beyond the homo-sapien classification can seemingly only be infected after consuming large quantities of black oak.

Current exception to the rule is tarcrows, goats and this guy I once knew called Gary. Within fully converted oak rot subjects you’ll find a sticky tar like substance which can be effectively used as lamp oil or fuel for a fire. Note to self, when burning fully converted oak rot subjects for fuel, don’t let humans with a squeamish disposition watch. At a glance it looks like you are burning a human being alive, and that does not help you make friends. Tarcrows seem partially immune to the effects of oakrot, though heavy secretions of the black tar like liquid previously mentioned covers their skin and composes not a insignificant part of their body. Also in them can be found small chips of wood, tarcrows are inedible though may be mulched and used as fuel. Oak rot infection can be avoided through avoiding close proximity to black oaks. Avoiding long periods of inactive movement and sleeping. Avoiding black oaks in this world might be a bit of a challenge. But I’m quite fortunate. As for sleeping, I don’t exactly need it.