Gressler reminded them that Orcs were not dumb, but they had tendencies that could be taken advantage of.

Orcs, because of their size, and the size of their people in relation to every other creature, tended to believe that size and strength were all that mattered. Because they got what they wanted with size and strength.

So they to believe that they could conquer and overcome any group, no matter how many, because of their size, strength and stamina. Small things posed no threat to them, ever.

“How is that helping us?” The Beaver brothers asked. “We are small things.”

Gressler pointed out that along with their belief that they could win any strategy that favored strength and size, they tended to discount cleverness, trickery, intelligence. The Bix were taken by surprise, he reminded them. Bix are clever, and if they had known–as we know–that the orcs are coming, they could have prepared.

Other things to know about orcs: They had good eyes and ears. But that lead them to depend on them too much. They tended to trust what they saw and heard.

“Also, when in armies, orcs are often overworked by their commanders. It stems from the belief that orcs are strong and strength and stamina are the very nature of an orc. So they don’t give them breaks. This means they can be more exhausted than they will ever mention,” Gressler said.

He turned to a map of the Autumn Woods, a large detailed map where he had already marked where they were, according to Craek, the paths they were taking–and the ones they were avoiding.

“I believe,” Gressler said, “we can reroute them using natural barriers, distractions, and detours to move them quickly out of the woods.” He gave them all marking tools. “Now, let’s come to the map and see what we can do to guide them away.”

They would not be taken by surprise. They had the advantage. They just all had to come together and do it.

Go to Chapter 7

“Protect the Autumn Woods!” is an illustrated story by Jerome Stueart in 33 short flash fiction chapters. The story features D&D-inspired magic-using forest animals who fight to protect their homes. This story was at first a response to a prompt list created by Jenn Reese and Deva Fagan for an October Art Challenge in 2021. You can now read all 33 parts of the story, “Protect the Autumn Woods” with the search term, #AutumnWoods. “Protect the Autumn Woods!” Art Show at the Dayton Society of Artists (48 High Street, Dayton, OH) from November 1 — December 15 2024.

“Protect the Autumn Woods!” is adjacent to a larger show of amazing Dayton Artists, “Small, but Mighty.” Come see all of the art, any weekend, Friday 12-5, Saturday 12-5 to experience the art yourself.

When Craek returned, and told them what he’d seen, everyone suddenly remembered the bix village massacre in Summer Woods many years ago.

“They were caught by surprise!”

A thriving group of little people of the forest, the bix were an important part of trade between the Summer Woods and outside villages of humans. You could find healing ointments, teas, remedies of all kinds, at a Bix Market. They could enchant acorns to guide you, put a protective leaf in a locket for you. The Bix were hard-working magical people living in harmony with the humans around them. The Summer Woods, always a delight to travel through, had been such a helpful place for humans and animals alike, partially because the Bix were there offering everyone the best that herbs and magic could devise. They enhanced the kingdoms around them.

This is how they were noticed by the Orcs. Everyone had heard a version of the story of the Maebon Massacre, or Bix Slaughter, or some other title. It was the kind of story that made good people think twice about being too kind, too open, too vulnerable. The bix didn’t make swords or weapons. They made medicines and remedies. Sometimes the story was told in a way to suggest, “See what happens when you get known for being nice.”

They were all killed and eaten. They say the orcs put their teas and medicines around what was left of their corpses. As if to say, heal thyself.

It reminded them of the horror that others could do. But it was so unthinkable that it became unthinkable— to think about it too much made people anxious and scared and paranoid. Orcs could turn up anywhere! In some ways, the story just couldn’t settle in a mind that believed that good things happen to good folks. Some variants of the story had to give the Bix some fault—outside of being noticed by Orcs. Others just said it was myth.

Nevertheless, the story drove them now into a frenzy. How do they protect themselves from this passing group of orcs? Why were they here in their woods? What did they want? Would the same fate await them as the bix of Summer Wood?

No.

They wouldn’t believe it.

They would fight and they would be clever and they would survive.

“Protect the Autumn Woods!” is an illustrated story by Jerome Stueart in 33 short flash fiction chapters. The story features D&D-inspired magic-using forest animals, all retired from dazzling adventurous lives, ready for peace and quiet in the midst of a spellbound forest, a woods with a very long autumn. When a mysterious troop of orcs, armed for battle, march into their woods, the heroes will do anything they can to keep the orcs away from their loved ones. Sometimes, though, the wards and tricks won’t work. Sometimes, you have to fight harder just to keep what you have.

This story was at first a response to a prompt list created by Jenn Reese and Deva Fagan for an October Art Challenge in 2021. Anyone who wanted to play along could draw pictures according to the prompts and post them on social media with the #autumnwoods hashtag for 31 days. I drew pictures and posted them. But I added D&D classes, and then a story happened. You can now read all 33 parts of the story, “Protect the Autumn Woods” with the search term, #AutumnWoods, or hear them all narrated to you on Substack as you go through the “Protect the Autumn Woods!” Art Show happening at the Dayton Society of Artists (48 High Street, Dayton, OH) from November 1 — December 15 2024.

A reception and opening happens this Friday, November 1st. “Protect the Autumn Woods!” is adjacent to a larger show of amazing Dayton Artists, “Small, but Mighty.” Come see all of the art, Friday, November 1st, or come back any weekend, Friday 12-5, Saturday 12-5 to experience the art yourself.

Kelsky and Big Slap had been the kind of brothers that didn’t need to say very much to each other, but they seemed to understand and communicate effectively anyway. A gesture, a nod, something anyone else would dismiss, was enough for them to cooperate on opposite sides of a river or stream.

Mama Beaver said they were born with the same mind. They’d laugh at that.

“I have half a mind to argue with you,” Kelsky would tell her.

“And I have the other half,” Big Slap would say. “But arguing with you is harder than Oak. I’m gonna go fell a softer tree.”

When they heard the call from Brother Fenzel, they had the same idea at the same time. Reroute the orcs. It was a simple as that. Everyone liked an easy path. You just got to make all the other paths too much trouble. It was like building a dam and guiding water.

And guiding a river, redirecting a stream, wasn’t that different from redirecting a troop of orcs, was it? They just needed to clear any path they wanted the orcs to take; and fill the rest with barriers, fallen trees, branches, things that wouldn’t look purposefully placed, but naturally fallen.

They needed the woods to be a suggestion of pathways.

Their suggestion.

They did not have time to fell as many trees as they needed. They would have to use what they already had. And what they had were their homes.

Kelsky grabbed both sides of a big sycamore atop his recent den addition and pulled, disturbing several other branches and logs.

“No,” his brother said, slapping the ground with his tail. “You need that.”

His brother smiled, his two teeth bright, “I’ll be getting it back, don’t worry, brother. It’s a temporary thing.”

“Well, we will need more logs than that.” He began dismantling the roof over his kitchen.

His brother huffed loudly, “There is plenty in this den. I overmade it anyway. You just keep your kitchen and we’ll use my den.”

“Won’t be enough, and you know it.” Big Slap kept pulling out logs from his kitchen.

Conversation was over. They both knew the other would not relent or change their mind. They were both right. It would take several well placed logs and branches to block the paths. Fitting that they would use their homes to save their homes.

Without a word, they spent the afternoon, pulling and dragging and scattering their home logs and branches into an effective set of barriers, placing them as if the wind had merely knocked them over and an open path never existed.

Go to Chapter 5

“Protect the Autumn Woods!” is an illustrated story by Jerome Stueart in 33 short flash fiction chapters. The story features D&D-inspired magic-using forest animals who fight to protect their homes. This story was at first a response to a prompt list created by Jenn Reese and Deva Fagan for an October Art Challenge in 2021. You can now read all 33 parts of the story, “Protect the Autumn Woods” with the search term, #AutumnWoods. “Protect the Autumn Woods!” Art Show at the Dayton Society of Artists (48 High Street, Dayton, OH) from November 1 — December 15 2024.

“Protect the Autumn Woods!” is adjacent to a larger show of amazing Dayton Artists, “Small, but Mighty.” Come see all of the art, any weekend, Friday 12-5, Saturday 12-5 to experience the art yourself.

Brother Fenzel struggled in this wind to light the candles of the Passive Hours, the hours in the middle of the night when your fate was in the hands of the More Powerful.  The candles were a symbol of light, clarity, even in the darkness.  However, tonight the wind snuck through the branches and stones of the little shrine, making it harder for him to see that clarity, that light.  He had trusted his life to the care of Mundimila the Compassionate.  She protected the wanderer, the castaway, the hidden, the vulnerable, and so he honored her for her help in these vulnerable hours.  He was the attendant and cleric of her forest shrine here in the Autumn Woods.  But in this steady night breeze, even inside the shrine, the candles would not stay lit. His old hands trembled to light them again.

He’d been that kind of wanderer for many years, on lonely paths, mapping the world with his feet, pulled by wanderlust.  But then, one night, he’d heard Her singing and followed the sound.  She led him to the Church of the Starlit Branches, promised him something bigger than just his vagabond traveling.  Folks of the forest gave him food and shelter and friendship.  Many of them were displaced by war—smaller creatures, humans, Silvi, the Reconstructed, the Clodders who were just trying to settle again, anywhere.  He stayed, became a cleric, learned healing magic.  He found he wanted to help people. He served them for years and thought he always would.  But you don’t always get to stay where you want.