Mombercum raised his bow, a drop of sweat sliding down his brow as the Buick sped over the next hill. He mentally checked his aim in the few seconds he had remaining before the pickup was going to pounce him. He loosed the string, and the wooden shaft launched from the stick and string. The metal head screamed toward the metal skin of the internal-combustion wagon, creating small ripples in the air in its wake.
The vehicle paused as the arrow clove the air, reaching it’s hull. With a creaking sound of twisting metal, the arrow’s head pierced the candy-apple red skin of the truck. It reared its head and honked it’s mighty roar, then fell silent and cold to the ground.
Mombercum unstrung his bow as he went to collect the headlights of the downed beast, to prove that he vanquished the foe. We would return to his village: as a man.
It took Mombercum about a week to finally return to his village, and when he arrived it was besieged. Harleys, Mustangs, and Fords drove circles around his home, his family. Mombercum drew his bow and fired shots at the rampaging vehicles, but none fell. He drew his sword and began to charge when his arm was caught by a nearby tree.
“Careful young one.” The tree warned “You should not charge to your death so easily.”
“But, My home, my Family…”
“None are imporant, for your journey has begun!” The old tree waved his branches and cast Mombercum into a pit.
In the pit, Mombercum trained as hard as he could with bow and sword against countless foes that the tree set at him. Days became Weeks became Months that Mombercum had last seen the sky, and grass. Anything but this pit.
“Fight on, brave piglet, fight on!” The tree would shout.
“I’m not a pig, ignorant oak!” Mombercum would reply.
“Well, you do share some appearance, what with your curly tail!”
“WHAT TAIL ARRRRGGGGHHH!” And so Mombercum was trained to harness his rage in battle.
Mombercum eventually defeated everything in the pit, and was rewarded with an exit from the pit, though not to the surface that he longed for, but to an even deeper underground with even more terrifying foes. Transports and Freight Liners and even a Yacht did he vanquish in the second level of the pit. After another year of war in the godforsaken hole, he came across the purest Keldinium – a metal renown for it’s ability to slay naturally growing vehicles.
“Now Makest ye from thine Keldinium – a weapon – for the slayment of thy foetheth!”
“Why are you talking like this?! Where is my home?! LET ME OUT! OH GOD!” Mombercum was trapped, forced until he did what the tree desired.
Long months did Mombercum slave over the firey forge the tree provided him with. After months of toil, Mombercum finalized his Keldinium weapon – an Axe, with a blade so sharp it could cleave the very Air and leave it split. He readied himself and spoke to the tree of his own volition for the first time.
“I am done. Release me, Great Oak, so I may slay my foes.” And the tree did.
Large branches reached down to Mombercum and lifted him free of the pit. Mombercum stood beside the tree in daylight and squinted at the brightness of the… moon? Nighttime. He gazed over the place where his home once stood, seeing only scant remnants of what was a village being overtaken by small forests. He turned to the tree and spoke again:
“Why didn’t you just let me die fighting with my tribe?”
“Oh, I was just messin’ with ya. You could’ve saved them before, I just didn’t want you to.”
Mombercum was overcome with rage.
The screams of the Oak were heard long into the night, as Mombercum tested his new, shiny, Keldinium Axe.