The True History of Oz

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The Next Chapter.
Is The First Chapter.

A whispered legend has it that L. Frank Baum took his OZ story from a mysterious series of books called The True History of OZ.

The Wizard of Oz, the beloved movie from 1939, and all the other adaptations and variations – in books, on TV, other movies, several new ones currently in development in Hollywood – are all based on the book The Wonderful Wizard of OZ by L. Frank Baum.

The problem is, that that source material – Baum’s book – is, according to this legend, wrong.

Or, to be more precise, L. Frank Baum took the idea for his OZ from The True History of OZ, written by a native of the actual OZ named Calista. Turns out, Baum stumbled upon this strange 5-volume history while going bankrupt running a general store in the Dakota Territories in 1890. How they came to be in the back room of his general store in the Dakota Territories is a book unto itself.

Baum, at first, did not like these stories. They were dark, violent, full of revenge, terrible secrets, gangs, vice, war, apocalyptic magic, and more.

Nevertheless, Baum, so the still unproven legend has it, recognized the power of the stories and the characters and the world in which they lived. He appreciated the ultimate lesson and theme of those books, which was: If change is possible, then hope is justified.

After reading and re-reading the 5 books dozens of times, he decided to turn it into a children’s story. He made it cute, silly, and sweet, and, of course, it then became one of the most beloved books ever, and he became a fabulously wealthy man.

From a bankrupt shopkeeper, to one of the wealthiest men in America, in a few short years, from one short book. Very curious.

But the real story of OZ, according to Calista, who was there, was not cute. Or silly. Or sweet.

This is:

The True History of OZ.

The Time of the Witch Begins

(Years, decades, maybe centuries before Nick and his clan roamed the Forest, the Wicked Witch ruled The Forever Desert)

The Witch built for herself and her tribe a shanty town in the vast yellow scrub of the Forever Desert. She brought a small, thin never-ending shaft of water up from below the ground, an intense feat of magic and political showmanship. From that moment she ruled the town unquestioned. A husk of a town, but at least there’s now water, which is more than most of this barren land can say.

And the barren land does indeed say things. A wind might blow through the town and you’d hear in the rustle ‘Foooools’.

Original art from The True History of OZ (TTRPG) by Syd Oswald

Out in the scrub, your exhausted plodding footsteps might summon what sounds like “Kill, Kill” as each step breaks through a layer of crusty dirt mixed with sand and salt. You shield your eyes from the sun, and the sun seems to sizzle like a synapse dying and it shrieks at you, or so it seems, and you know in your fractured heart that you have lost your way. Lost, not in terms of geography, but history. The air, this light, those sounds, they are ancient and you are not, and so you will perish. If you are lucky when you perish you will become a sand ghost, ancient yourself, displaced in history, and you will lay in wait with thousands of other sand ghosts, below the surface of the desert, hidden and complicit, and ready to become a vortex of danger, sucking the unsuspecting traveler down deep below the desert, disappeared, the sandy plain above undisturbed.

But then a great shadow passes over you, what seems like a single mass, but is composed of dozens of huge flying monkeys, 5 or 6 feet tall each of them, and they are laughing, in on the joke, they are the deadly desert’s partner, just as ancient and inscrutable. This land is empty but filled with sound – sounds of warning, sounds of war. The metallic clank of history counting down to nothing, while the flying monkeys laugh high above.

The Witch rules this dead land with dark magic spells that appear like snakes in the air. The beasts she commands – 40 great black wolves, a swarm of black bees, and a flock of 40 crows – wait, listen, circle, and watch. For a sign, for an order, for a chance to prove again and again their fearsome loyalty. And there will always be more chances, for this wicked Witch, and her town, will ultimately be abandoned, she will be alone, and the Witch’s cries will go unheard. For that, her enemies will pay. Revenge never mends a broken heart, but it does bring dark satisfaction

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