|Hero||Background & Trivia||Strategy|
There was their only feeling, and their only strength. Some were younger, some older, some comparatively brazen, some calmer and wiser than even the average is for plantfolk. But at that time, right after the war between humanity and plants had ended in a peace treaty, they all had something in common: they resented that peace. They hated it, they hated it so; in their roots and in their leaves, from sleepy winters to the blossoms of late spring. Many had lost much in that war: their seed-spawn, their rooting grounds, friendships older than centuries. And among them, not a single treant was present : for they too resented their towering lordship they felt was oppressing them. But what was it that they could do ?
They could do nothing but hate, hate, hate. And that hatred bathed a young plant; a tiny orchidea that'd started growing not one day after the war ended. Its roots drained hatred from the ground, and its leaves gathered hatred from the sun. She started to have ideas. Why would plants remain rooted ? What did they gain from it ? Nothing but mistreatment from the part of flesh-beings, those atrocious monsters, who adorned their hair with the mutilated limbs of the dead. There was only one punishment dire enough for their crimes: extermination. But how ? Simple, for all nature is bursting with ways to eliminate the living. Poison and toxins, and thorns, and spikes, and ways to wield these weapons into battle; weapons to wage a final war against flesh. Thus the orchidea kept on growing, bigger and bigger, unnoticed by the oblivious, hateful plants around it. And once she had shaped herself accordingly to what she knew was her task, she did what only treants had ever done before : she uprooted herself.
The forest gasped that day, as the orchidea slowly trailed outside of it, to the outside world. Village after village was exterminated, its buildings grounded into soil and its denizens into mulch. Until the orchidea arrived to what she'd soon know was a battlefield: flesh warring against flesh. And, somewhere in the distance, were even some treants. The orchidea smiled, and jumped forward. Extermination had come to this war; no side was to be spared.
- Mo Jen