Bheskar

Bheskar watched when the sun fell from its place in the sky. He watched as the dark twisted vines and roots and boughs leeched into the place once protected and warmed by the now dead star. He watched as towns were swallowed up by creeping moss, crushed under the weight of ash-tooth bark, and enveloped by coiled ferns. He watched and he did nothing. They cast him out long before the sun fell, what could he have even done? He sat bitter in his cave amidst the Overgrowth, but like all things, his heart softened with time. When travelers came to him and sought his guidance, sought his help, he did not turn them away. He did, however, ask a price. His deals, steep yet fair, would spark rumor of a dual eyed demi-deity, borne of the darkness and practiced in the art of give-and-take. Bheskar of the Overgrowth, however, was mortal as man.