Banazîr the Jedi Hobbit (banazir) wrote,
Banazîr the Jedi Hobbit

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The world according to Brooks

Terry Brooks Named Monstrosity

If some madman or diabolical wizard had fused an alligator and a toad and a rat, and given the rat really huge fangs, it might have looked something like the Traskerwhump.

[Pause a beat for dramatic effect.]

Natural creatures fled from the Traskerwhump. They feared it. They knew something was wrong.


The Traskerwhump was not natural.
It knew no fear, only endless hate.

Hate for its masters. Hate for its creators. Hate for all living things.

Even hate for itself.

Did I mention the 6-inch long poisonous fangs?


  • The Maw Grint (Druid of Shannara)

  • The poison-clawed thing that fought Allanon and Garet Jax (Wishsong of Shannara)

  • The Reaper (Elfstones)

  • The Shadowen (Heritage of Shannara series, or "I Was Blizzard When Blizzard Wasn't Cool")

  • The Mord Wraiths (Sword of Shannara)

  • The Death Shadowen (Talismans of Shannara, aka Weapons of Mass Destruction of Shannara aka Forget My Anti-Nuke Stance of Shannara)

  • The quijillion or so creatures on the Shadowen island that Wren Ohmsford-Elessedil-Sackville-Baggins spends a 300-page book escaping from (Elf Queen of Shannara, which in a sane world could only be called Resident Evil of Shannara)

Terry Brooks Cannon Fodder

Hurgh Wibble was proud of his bloodline. He was descended of a long line of men of Wibbletraskia: Urple Wibble, the first High Wibble of Wibbleopolis; Bha Wibble, the half-Human, quarter-Elf, eighth-Druid, and eighth-Mountain Troll runesinger of Wibblas Vale; and even Hugh Wibble, one of the famous companions of Urp the Blind Pyromaniac Seer. Hurgh was often confused by my readers with Hugh, but they hailed from completely different centuries. The Big Bad came from the North-Northeast in the time of Hugh, two hundred fifty years before.

Now, in Hurgh's middle years, the Eight Realms were threatened by evil from the South-Southwest. Completely different evil.

"I'm getting too old for this," thought Hurgh. "Ah, but at least my son Rurgh and his cousin Argh are safe back in the Southeastlands, and the honorable Wibble name will continue."

Then they came.

A giant wave of Traskerwhumps - not the one small Whumpling who was killed by Teuncer Boj and his pet machairodon (just because a big black sabretooth is cool, yo). No, this was an endless flood of them, pouring through a magical rift that Hurgh could have sworn wasn't there a minute ago. Hurgh grasped his staff of wibblewood and faced his certain doom with steely resolve.

"Gee, I really hope Rurgh heeded my warning letter and got out of Wibblas Vale when I told him to," was his final thought.

Terry Brooks Level Boss

The Blighterwock smiled to itself, in the only way that a being of pure evil could: inwardly, looking into the undiluted darkness of its soul. At last, the line of Wibble would come to an end, and with it the royal house of the Elves. Then the long-dead Druids would finally be extinct. Again.

Once, the Blighterwock had been a living being, albeit an infernal one from a dimension whose map I haven't drawn yet, but will in the next four sequels. But other beings of faerie had not liked his looks.

They hadn't liked them at all.

So they imprisoned him.

Not in a cage of cold iron or wrought steel. Not even a methral-gilded one! Instead, for crimes against nature that he had yet to commit, the Old Ones banished him to the even more hellish dimension of Ultimate Destiny, also known to the elves and men of the Eight Realms as the Doomedlands. They had bound him with cruel enchantments that forced him to reflect inwardly upon his evil until every day was full of dreary musings like the monologue that is thankfully ending now.

The first Whumpling should have destroyed at least half of Wibblas Vale. Small matter, thought the demon overlord as he surveyed the muster of his dark domain. An army a thousand times its size was about to break through the Elven front lines and slash its way inexorably towards their incredibly weakly-guarded palace. And if that army failed - there were creatures worse than Traskerwhumps that dwelt in the Doomedlands, in places even the Blighterwock avoided. (If you're really interested, though, I can write another sequel about those places.)

At last, the Blighterwock would reveal himself to the Free Peoples. At last, the Blighterwock would have revenge.


  • The Dagda Mor (Elfstones of Shannara)

  • The Ildatch (Wishsong of Shannara)

  • The Uhl Belk (Druid of Shannara)

  • The Shadowen infiltrator (Tib Arne) from WMDs of Shannara

Tags: fantasy, fiction, scifi, terry brooks

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