The friction between man and the wood creatures began with the discovery of agriculture. With the discovery of agriculture, civilization arose and spread. The forests were cleared to provide wood for shelter and fields for pasture and crops. Mankind had set up camp. No longer just a visitor in someone else's world, he pushed the wild back from his newly built doorstep. At first this wasn't a problem. There weren't many people and everyone else felt that it was only fair to allot them their own little half-acre to do with as they wished. Some of them even decided to help out. Faery by Edmund Dulac Gnomes moved into the barnhouses and helped out with the gardening chores. The devic spirits of the vegetables helped the humans better organize their crops and plan rotation, and taught them the correlation between planetary and lunar cycles and the agricultural year, plant radishes when the moon is in Cancer, harvest when the moon is in Taurus. Many trolls felt that the heaping piles of manure were a change for the better, and decided to stick around too.

The rest of the wood creatures just backed off into the wood, playing mischievous tricks on the new settlers, like turning the milk sour, rearranging furniture, tipping the cows, tickling people's faces in their sleep, and occasionally stealing babies and leaving bundles of wood in their place.

But man's dominion spread (and spread and spread and spread), and the forests got smaller and smaller and smaller. Things got real crowded in the woods, and things were getting worse in civilization. Most farmers weren't listening to the devic spirits anymore. People found that they could increase their output by disregarding the needs of the Earth. They were raising productivity and killing the soil. Petrochemicals were just a step away. Most of the devic spirits and the gnomes fled. The trolls stayed. Today they live mostly under bridges and in the shallow, mucky ditches beneath the metal grating on farm roads that cows are afraid to cross. Be sure to honk your horn before driving over one of these. A troll may be hanging from the grate, swinging over its living room, as they are apt to do after rolling in muck and manure, If you don't give a warning honk, you may run over its fingers, and it's not a great idea to get either your name or your license plate number on a troll's shit list.

Now there is little wild land left at all, and even that is shrinking at an unprecedented rate. There is simply not enough space for all the gnomes and elves, fauns and faeries, goblins, ogres, trolls and bogies, nymphs, sprites, and dryads.

So where are they?

Are they dead?

No!

So where did they go?

The answer is a bit surprising

They didn't go anywhere!

You did.

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