Singing Tree

At a glance a singing tree is an ordinary broadleaf tree, though its leaves have an unusual, almost fluted shape. Every leaf has its own clear voice, and hundreds of them together make a haunting, wordless chorus that drifts through the forest on the breeze.

When the tree is hungry it adds a deep bass note beneath its leaves' song. Every mammal within 100 yards must save vs. spell or feel an overwhelming urge to stop and rest in its shade.

Once a victim settles beneath the branches, leaves drift down as if falling naturally. Each leaf's stem is a hollow feeding tube that it slips into bare skin; charmed victims never notice the tiny sting. After drinking 1 hit point of blood the leaf floats back up, reattaches to its twig and passes the meal to the tree. To avoid raising suspicion it usually sends only 1d6 leaves per sleeper, though it can loose as many leaves as it has hit points at once. The tree must drink blood equal to its full hit point total every day to stay healthy.

Each leaf has just 1 hit point, but the tree carries ten leaves for every hit point it has, so swatting them one by one is hopeless. An area spell such as fireball kills every detached leaf caught in its area and also destroys a number of leaves still on the tree equal to the damage dealt. The tree saves according to its Hit Dice. Attacking the trunk makes it hurl every leaf at its attackers, and the swirling cloud imposes a -2 penalty on their attack rolls. If the tree dies, its leaves wither within 1d10 rounds.

Wild singing trees grow in remote places, well away from thinking creatures, and feed on unsuspecting animals. Each one claims roughly 100 yards around its trunk. Once every five years it produces a single seed, which a pair of leaves carries far off to start a new territory. A seedling that sprouts too close is shaded out and attacked by the parent's leaves, and where several trees crowd together they soon overhunt the area until only the strongest survives. A well-fed tree can live for centuries.

In recent generations a few have been brought into cities, where wealthy collectors keep them in walled gardens. Some owners feed their trees; others keep them hungry as living guardians, but a tree starved too long turns feral and attacks any warm-blooded creature that enters its range.

In the wild the singing tree is simply a patient predator with few natural foes; its main enemies are animals that gnaw or strip bark. Moving one is delicate work: either a rare seed must be secured, or a mature tree dug up with its roots intact and transported gently, away from sudden or extreme temperature changes. A healthy tree or seed can fetch as much as 5,000 gold pieces from the right buyer.