Tailier the Weeping willow

Tailier, the weeping willow

Once upon a time, a young god stumbling upon an all-consuming flora. The outcome of this encounter would result in a crater, the vanishing of both entities, and Tailier. Their Physiology was a combination of both fauna and flora as a result of his 'parents', and as a result his veins flowed with an everlasting wellspring of divine blood-sap. The young root did not know this at the time, but it would later become a source of major grief for the Dryad. For the first few years of their life, they explored the world around the, communicating with the flora around him, that had, unbeknownst to him, survived their parent's attacks. years past. Perhaps hundreds, perhaps thousands, hundreds of thousands, or millions-- The root was at relative peace. No animals he met threatened him. The world around him healed from the battle that resulted in his birth, and eventually he wound encounter a new type of animal. One that walked on two feet. That talked. That crafted and made burrows above ground with mud bricks and wheeled around grain or fished or sat in a wooden stall all day. At first, Tailier watched, and avoided any attempts at contacting these strange new animals. He had no reason to believe they could speak, let alone speak something he understood. Yet time did that terrible thing it did and moved on. The burrows, which he would later learn were called houses, spread. Forests and grassland were washed over by hordes of their builders. Contact became inevitable, and when it finally did happen, it was an alien experience, for both of them.


They weren't outright hostile. But they weren't too friendly either. They communicated through pictures, at first. Tailier would draw in the dirt and mud, and they would do the same. He grew to better understand them, and eventually their spoken and written language. He learned about their foods, their jobs, their culture, their deities. He took particular interest in one of their civilization's jobs, specifically... A shaman. A potion brewer. Tailier spoke, with what little crude bits of their language he understood, and over time the two would grow to become close friends. She helped him understand her language better, and would occasionally offer Tailier some shiny gold coins in exchange for his help in some things. He didn't know why she needed his blood, or why she was so fascinated by it-- But he was glad to help out, and the shiny things were nice. The villagers would offer him other things for a considerable amount of shiny bits, so Tailier ended up going more proactively to the shaman to trade his blood in... But he noticed her house was full of potions that matched the color and consistency of his blood, and noticed the fact that she gave him less coins each time. One day, the shaman offered him something else. There was a funny look in her eyes, but he trusted her, and accepted it. It was a set of rings, but big ones, engraved with purple and red runes-- and they could snap around his limbs. One was even big enough to fit around his neck. At first, he liked them. They made him feel pretty. His happiness only dimmed down when she began demanding his sap-- A lot of it. At first, he handed it over without much resistance. He was still helping his friend, after all. But then she didn't let him leave... And over the next few days, she kept demanding more. He was starting to feel woozy, but whenever he lost a bunch of blood it'd usually be back after not too long, so it wasn't a problem until he felt extra woozy. And when he was extra woozy, and turned her demands down, he felt a shock-- A shock coming from the rings. When he tried pulling them off, he felt another. The shaman continued to take blood and it still wasn't enough. He stopped refusing, because every time he did, he would get shocked, And she would yell at him. Somehow, the yelling felt worse. It felt like he had done something wrong, but she never said if he had.

One day, his blood wasn't enough either. 

She strapped him to a table and ran a knife across his chest and stomach. It burned, and he struggled and cried, but it was never enough. She pulled out organ after organ, until he was a husk of root and bark. When he awoke the next day, everything hurt, but there wasn't a sign of any damage. It was like she had taken nothing to begin with... So she took more. It was unlike anything he had ever felt. Like fire had crawled under his skin and into his bones and rendered itself a parasite. Each time, he didn't want to feel it again, and each time the stinging returned. Each morning, he woke up sobbing. He didn't know what he had done wrong. His body began to shift in strange ways overtime. Thorns sprouted, the bark on his skin had grown more rigid. As the harvests continued, he had stopped crying, and started fighting-- Only to be shocked. The shaman was growing tired of his disobedience, so she stopped, for a time. She undid the straps holding the Dryad to the operating table and guided him to a safe place. He felt the collar turn on, but it wasn't like before. It was worse then shock. The fires spread across his body and burned him alive, leaving his skin charred and ruined. When he next woke up, it was like none of it had ever happened. The shaman's suspicions had been confirmed. The root could not be killed-- Only broken.

The pain kept building. The root had enough. When he next awoke, and she had next come to harvest his blood and organs-- He fought. He leaped, and clawed, and ripped. Fires spread across him again, but even as his mind was paralyzed by the pain the Tailier's body began to change again. He grew taller-- His arms and legs like spikes. A set of thorns adorned his head as a crown. He impaled the shaman. Skewered her. Tore her to shreds. And when he was done, he moved into the forest, smashing his arms against his restraints until they shattered and the fire died. He spilled his blood-- And the trees came to life. They produced creatures like him-- Roots, in their own right, but they were mortal. They did not have his endless sap or his divinity, but they did serve one purpose.

The whole village had never tried to help him. He didn't know if they were complacent, or unaware, or if they simply forgot about him completely. Either way, with his kin and his blind rage, he swept across the village-- And then another, and another. The villagers burned the forests as retaliation, which only spurred on hundreds of more roots to form as the Dryad spilled his blood across the lands. Nature and society collapsed down on one another, until nearly nothing was left... But there was something.

The root's rage eventually faded. He returned to his normal state, and he would never again express his rage and grief as he had once did. He and his fellows had killed many who were deserving, and it was something he grew to deeply regret. Over the next few million years, he would have many relationships like he did when he was with the Shaman. A sorcerer who plucked souls, a powerful king, and a notorious fugitive just to name a few... But he had learned not to fight back after the wound he left on the earth. Many sought his blood, and many more took it by force. It did not matter. The Weeping willow gave unconditional love to those he cared for, no matter how little they cared for him in turn.

Abilities.

Tailier's divine blood-sap offers regenerative properties and slowed or even stopped ageing to those who consume it. It Is also capable of altering and animating other plantlife, creating roots.
Tailier is capable of shapeshifting. Under certain circumstances and extreme stress, this process will occur involuntarily.
Tailier's appearance and personality changes with the seasons. During spring and summer, he grows a tail and horns, and is more lively, though that isn't saying much. During Autumn, he sheds these extra features, and is typically much more prone to sleeping. This is especially true during winter, where his bark turns a sickly pale and loses it's texture.
Tailier is immortal.

Personality.

Tailier is extremely submissive and depressive. He is irrationally afraid of upsetting others and will go as far to avoid this even for strangers and people who offer him nothing. Despite this, he is extremely affectionate, and wants nothing more then for as much as he gives to be returned.

Relationships.

King Damascus of Eclipse - Up until his death the Dryad maintained a romantic relationship with him and acted as an "Advisor." (In other words he just told the king to take a break when he overworked himself.) He also served to create a variety of extremely beneficial crops. After his death, the extremely inexperienced country bumpkin would with the help of an extensive and overworked team of advisors reluctantly ascend to the throne and usher in a new age of prosperity for the people of Eclipse. 

Credit to Arensika for his current design and for being MY WIF