Appearance

A towering, gnarled tree of ancient timber, its bark blackened by corruption. Sap leaks from fissures along its trunk, a viscous, tar-like fluid that glistens with a spectral sheen. Its limbs twist with a mind of their own, and every whispering stroke of the wind seems to carry a hushed, coercive voice. The treant's eyes—if one can call the knots that way—glimmer with a pale green light, and the whispers it emits seem to creep into the ear, promising secrets if you would only listen a little longer. When it moves, the ground itself seems to sigh in relief and fear, as if the forest trembles at its touch.

Behavior & Origins

This treant was once the ward of a thriving grove, a guardian of ancient oaks and hidden springs. A long-forgotten artifact buried beneath the roots corrupted the forest, turning the guardian into a host for whispers and black sap. Now it drains the courage of passersby, whispering secrets as it oozes corruption, hoping to draw in new vessels for the dark sap that coats its bark. Some say the whispers speak truths about the grove’s past—truths that can drive a listener mad—but others believe the whispers plant lies, turning friends into foes and turning the forest itself against those who disturb it.