#godtree

[thelastomnitect]

#WORLD52 WEEK 6 SUBMISSION:

THE BROKEN COVENANT & FALLEN GLADES

February and Week 6 of #WORLD52 is already here! I am crazy tired and it's been a long week, so let's get RIGHT into more lore from my my latest project: the PRIMAL MONSTER TAMING FANTASY TTRPG setting of-

(SUMMONER: THE WILD HUNT is still in developement, but look for us to start airing the actualplay and dropping a demo packet sometime in MAY 2025!) So, when we last left off, the children of Oᒪᗩᑎ unmade themselves to give birth to Spirits of Will (us), inheritors of their hopes and their Willpower and the Spirits Divine, inheritors of, SEᑭᑌ, ᐯEᑎᗩ, ᗩᖇᗪE & ᕼEᒪᗩ Elemental Magics & Duty to Oᒪᗩᑎ, and the Godtree extended it's covenant to shelter it's new Grandchildren. Let's continue the story!

-------------------------LORE BEYOND HERE-------------------------

Orah, what followed was an the Age of Contentment for the Spirits of Will. Oᒪᗩᑎ was as good as it's word, and it's grandchildren wanted for nothing. The Spirits Divine shaped the world to suit their needs, and delivered unto them prosperity. When hunger gnawed at them, Sepuan Spirits would hunt animals for them to roast, or bring wild millet, milk and honey for them to make sweetbreads. When they thirsted, Helan Spirits would bring fruits, berries, hops and cool, fresh water from the mountains to make fine meads and wine. When the cold of winter gripped them, Arden Spirits would light fires in their hearths and make blazing bonfires, and when heat oppressed them, Venan Spirits would dance through the sky, bringing the coolest breezes with them. Orah, to live in such times was to live in an age of wonders. Yet Spirits of Will must grow beyond themselves, as is the nature of such things. Contentment soon became disquiet. With every need met, Spirits of Will built what spoke to them. Their Scholars turned to blowing glass instruments and studying things so massive as the movement of stars and as things so small they could scarcely be said to have existed at all, but Orah, knowledge did not sate them. Their Builders crafted great aquaducts and cities, that thousands could live under the same roof, and that the needs of all were met, but Orah, those works were never enough. Their Artists crafted great works of art, pottery, sculpture, music and poetry, that all would have beauty and joy, but Orah, their hearts yearned for greater things. Soon, disquiet begot desperation, and desperation begot resentment. And Spirits of Will turned to Oᒪᗩᑎ, their protector, and said, "You have promised us peace in you shade, yet with full bellies we hunger, with goblets of ale we thirst, with comfortable beds we ache. Why?" Orah, Oᒪᗩᑎ tried to comfort them, console them, speak to them. They were too small, and too loud, and they could no longer hear the Godtree's voice in the wind and the rain and the sun and the stone. And the Creature of Will, so sure of their knowledge, thought themselves abandoned. And their resentment turned to arrogance. Of what happened next, the storytellers cannot agree. Some say the Scholars enslaved the Spirits Divine that attended them, and wrung them of their magics, that they could wield the elements themselves. Some say the Builders felled an OᒪᗩᑎBRANCH, to use it lumber to build a tower into the sky and deep into the earth, that their might may be as magnificent as Oᒪᗩᑎ. Others say that their Artists wove a tune so enamoring that it would lure Spirits Divine from their duties, and make them the servants of mortals.

Maybe all of them happened.

Maybe none.

But we know what happened next. For the first time in an age, Oᒪᗩᑎ, the great Godtree, wailed in sorrow and rage, for it was betrayed by the children of it's children. The Earth split, and the Wind howled, and the Fires went wild and the Waters rose.

And Oᒪᗩᑎ said unto us,

I AM Oᒪᗩᑎ AND MY CHILDREN GAVE YOU LIFE. OH LOST CHILDREN OF MY CHILDREN, HEED ME: SPIRITS OF WILL, YOU HAVE ABANDONED YOUR HEARTS AS YOUR CHASED YOUR DREAMS. YOU WERE MADE OF THE LOVE OF MY FIRSTBORN, AND I GAVE YOU THEIR COVENANTTHAT YOU MAY KNOW PEACE IN MY SHADE. YET YOUR KIN, THE SPIRITS DIVINE, THOSE WHO FEED YOU, WHO SOOTH YOU, AND WARM YOU, AND QUENCH YOU, YOU CAGE. YOU KILL . YOU STEAL THEIR BIRTHRIGHT. AND MY BRANCHES, GIVEN FREELY, YOU FELL AND BURN AND STRIP.

YOU HAVE BROKEN MY COVENANT. AND SO I GIVE UNTO YOU A NEW ONE.

SPIRITS OF WILL, I TWIST MY BRANCHES FOR YOU NO MORE.I CAST YOU OUT FROM MY SHADE. YOU SHALL KNOW NO PEACE IN THE WILD. AND I PRUNE FROM YOU ALL BUT MY CHILDREN'S GIFTS. THROUGH ᕼEᒪᗩ YOU SHALL DRINK DEEP OF KNOWLEDGE. THROUGH ᗩᖇᗪE YOU SHALL DRAW ENDLESS MIGHT. THROUGH ᐯEᑎᗩ YOU SHALL KNOW ENDLESS GRACE. THROUGH SEᑭᑌ YOU SHALL ENDURE FOREVER.

ORAH, YOU WILL NEED THESE GIFTS, FOR YOUR ARROGANCE HAS MADE THE WORLD YOUR ENEMY, FOR LIKE AS CREEPER VINE THROTTLES IT'S TREE, IT IS IN YOUR NATURE TO GROW BEYOND YOURSELVES.FOR YOU WERE BORN OF LOVE, AND UNTIL YOU FIND IT ONCE MORE, YOU CANNOT KNOW PEACE.

SPIRITS DIVINE, I NOW TWIST MY BRANCHES FOR YOU. FOR YOU WIELD MY CHILDREN'S WONDERS, AND IN YOUR LOYALTY YOU HAVE BEEN WRONGED. ORAH, I GIVE YOU MY DIVINE MANDATE. YOU SHALL BE THEIR SHEPARDS. YOU SHALL BE THEIR JAILORS. WHEN YOU FIND THEM IN THE WILD, YOU SHALL HUNT THEM, FOR LIKE A CREEPER VINE THAT THROTTLES IT'S TREE, THEY MUST NEVER AGAIN GROW BEYOND THEMSELVES. FOR YOU WERE BORN OF POWER, AND WITH IT, YOU WILL KEEP VIGIL OVER YOUR KIN. THIS IS MY COVENANT WITH YOU. Such was Oᒪᗩᑎ's Will, and thus is was. The Spirits Divine that once served us fell upon us, and cast our works into ruin. Orah.

-------------------------LORE END HERE------------------------- Thanks for joining me in this week's #WORLD52!

I'll be back this Saturday for WEEK 7, my Voyagers!

[criticalglitch]

In a bit of a drawing haze and I was flipping through old canvases, & found this image of Conquest I REALLY wanted to give another shot at. I think I draw faces relatively similar to the way I did two years ago (prosopagnosia, I'll always be fighting that one) but I've really improved in a lot of other ways.

Here she is, my oldest and most mysterious of the four horsemen <3

[skelekins]

Nuthin

[hyena-frog]

I transcribed what I could decipher of the blurry text on Pierce's laptop in a recent insta story:

Paragraph 1:

Line 1 -

The city is in sight now. Perched on the (we)stern [I can't read the beginning of this word but it definitely ends in -stern] coast of the Phoebe Peninsula, the engineering(?)

Line 2 -

city (?)ships (???) white chalk cliffs into the (???) where the glass towers of its (???)

Line 3 -

schools shining in the dawn like (???). There is movement in the city. I see it first on the

Line 4 -

rooftops of the factories where they make (Drachenjägers?) and tanks. Then in the city center, the

Line 5 -

public agoras, the (wharfs?), and the (beaches?). (???) (???) (???) (???) towers. People and (???) (???).

Line 6 -

banners. A chill passes through me.

Paragraph 2:

Line 1 -

Mars may be under siege but she is noble still and (painted?) in all the many colors of our [line cuts off here]

Line 2 -

Republic. Golden are the (crests?) of her (shorelines?) where (???) (???) (???) [line cuts off here]

Line 3 -

Thermic Sea. Green are the highland (???) (???) (???) [line cuts off here]

Line 4 -

godTree forests. Purple are the (???) [line cuts off here]

Line 5 -

(down?) off the (???) [line cuts off here]

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Last Line Tag XLVII

this one is from @toribookworm22's big ol' tag from a couple weeks ago and ALSO from @autumnalwalker <333 thank you both for tagging me!!

in turn, i'll tag: @vacantgodling, @authoralexharvey, @blind-the-winds, and YOU READING THIS. as always theres absolutely 0 pressure to play and also yes tagging you reading this is serious. gimme excerpts i love reading other peoples stuff its so fun. u dont even have to read this excerpt to take me up on it

this one is from goddess-touched (the second rewrite. which i have officially started today) and uh. content warning: body horror, animal death, and implied mass death.

ember pov below the cut cause it starts out STRONG

But [looking at] it becomes unavoidable, when a deafening roar of pain echoes over the wastes from one of the trees on the far side.

A shape I only ever saw in shaded distances, too massive to ever even know of my existence through the darkness of the woods, rears its head from the crown of one of the surviving Godtrees. A leviathan of black scale and leathery wings that could blot out the sky wails into the choking air, its voice breaking on the dust and debris.

I can feel the moment it decides to flee. Can feel the rumble of its call in my chest as it changes, can feel the way my muscles lock up in fear.

But instead of taking to the air, the Shadewing falls when it leaps. Falls, going limp before either I or it can understand why.

As it drops, two of its four wings dance in the wind, reduced to useless, charred twigs.

The impact sends up another plume of ash. A moment later, the ground jostles, sending me into another coughing fit as I inhale the dust thrown into disarray once again.

My fit leaves me staring at the ground. Unavoidable. Irreconcilable.

My hand is braced in a caved-in skull, one empty eye socket staring up at me as I hack up the cremated remains that fill the air in my lungs.

[kingcunny]

the way viserys ducks down to make daemon meet his eye? his little pout? him STROKING daemons cheek? right infront of his daughter and wife and the godtree and EVERYONE??

[7r0773r]

Readings from the Book of Exile by Pádraig Ó Tuama

This strange country

Into this strange country the godtree grew, taking root in ground we did not trust finding nurture in some other earth unrecognised by us.

And here, among us grew a life that, by and by, we recognised as living.

It discerned the seasons in a climate not our own.

And, strangely, it has shown us shelter.

Its boughs have made our homes.

***

Howth's soft heather

At my mother's prayer group on a Wednesday night, some of the ladies fall asleep from time to time from bead to bead from prayer to prayer. They call it a holy sleep, thus sanctifying their little dozes. Even the fire respects those sacred snoozes, settling down comfortably to the business of glowing gently, strongly, silently.

Twelve warm bodies in a cosy fire-lit den, near the harbour and the old circus site.

'A Holy Sleep that brings supernatural rest and renewal' A kind of coma into which you slip, mid prayer and emerge, post trauma, spiritually nurtured, to the gentle rhythm of clicking rosaries, intoned voices, century's prayers.

There are silent presences watching those asleep and those awake, hearing all those needs you daren't pray aloud (for fear of clicking cups on saucers a coffee-morning later). They are watching those we love and those we hate to leave and hearing all those prayers voiced again, just like last Wednesday, for healing and a hope to find a kindly face.

And the sacred thing about this sleep is that it is thus called, thus loved, thus recognised and welcomed, like a snooze on Howth's soft heather on a hot sunny September afternoon by twelve lonely souls who are looking towards the chat, and the biscuits waiting on the pressed white cloth, and hoping that their fire will burn more bright.

***

Solitary flights

If I was a father, I would always carry sweets for flights like this, to ease the popping of my three children's ears. It would be a memory in their minds when they, in turn would buckle the belts of their own children, check the exits, and spread their fingers on their faces, touching cheek, chin and lips just like I do.

I sneeze just like my own father and when I close my eyes, and feel the sweet tickle of pain through explosion of ears and nose, I hear him, in the sitting room, alone like he is most nights, watching telly, or knelt at the chair with his book of evening prayer.

If I interrupted, the room would smell of him. He'd ask if I wanted anything and I would say no, I'd go to sleep, and he'd go to a night of fitful dozing. I'd hear his sleepless breathing when I padded to the toilet in the dark, locking the door behind me, a habit of old I've not grown out of.

If I had children, I would number them three, one, two, three. A little trinity of souls, with small shoes and left-over crusts in their lunch-boxes, long chins like mine, maybe curly hair and green eyes. And I would hold onto memories of finger painting and action songs long after they'd grown into jobs, lives, homes, and solitary flights to places I've never been.

[thebonepirate]

i'm pretty sure i'm the one who submitted godwyn, but it's been a while(what like. a couple of months?) and i forgor with certainity.

a better description of what happened is that he was the favorite son of God, until his short red-head step-sister got some cave people to stab him to death(but only half dead. his soul died, but his body yet lives.) Then he started spreading deathroot through the roots of the glowing godtree, causing those who live in death to rise from their graves and return in an existence heretical to the Golden Order. Also probably made some wormface things they're gross I don't like thinking about them. As his dead body continued to live he got turned into a downright bizarre merman, with like an oyster shaped head and webbed hands and a deformed fish tail. there's some crabs with his face on them.

Also he's technically like. half of a duo of dead demigods, both being the first dead of Queen Marika's children. Ranni, the short step-sister mentioned before, killed her body and became a spirit in a doll. There was a prophecy going around, but Ranni accidentally broke it trying to fuck over the Greater Will. Instead of the cursemark of death branding itself on a single demigod's body, it split into two, becoming the half-wound marks of the centipede. If you put them together you can add a new holy scripture to the law of God, "Stop killing the dead people they're not heretical anymore."

Also his best friend was the most powerful of the immortal dragons besides the dragon lord and the dragon lord's ex dragon God who disappeared, and they became besties after godwyn suplexed him or something

Round One!

Looks to the Moon

Type: Undead computer(?)

Explanation: She was shut down but then revived

Other: OKOK SO LOOKS TO THE MOON ADD HER TO THE UNDEAD POLL. I DIDNT FINISH HUNTERS CAMPAIGN SO I DIDNT KNOW TOO MUCH ABOUT HER SHUT DOWN AND REVIVAL BUT BASICALLU PEBBLES STARTED TAKINT WATER IN ORDER TO DO SHIT SO SHE LIKE STARTED DYING AND GOT SHUT OFF APPARENTLY IN THE HUNTER CAMPAIGN YOU REACTIVATE HER IN THE OTHER CAMPAIGNS SHE GRADUALLY HEALS BUT SHE IS OKAY IN THE END I THINK :)

Godwyn the Golden

Type: Undead

Explanation: (one was not given, unless the below sentence counts)

Other: The first son of the Elden Lord and now, thanks to the cult of destined death, the prince of the undead

[orangefruitcakeart]

It's day 3 of #witchweek2019 and here is my drawing from today's prompt, Moon 🖤 We recently finished watching Naruto Shippuden and my Moon was inspired by the Infinate Tsukuyome. I like to think this surreal painting could be a world within a genjutsu (illusionary/dream world) 💚 This Drawing Challenge was set by  @octaviaskai88  @unikitty_draws @nia_draws.nr @striking.light and @_lemondrawss_if you haven't checked out their accounts before, you should give them a look now! 🖤 Tomorrow's Challenge is Third Eye. Don't forget to check out what the other Artists have been drawing for this week's challenges. 🖤 💜 💚 #witchart #moon #eyes #tree #earthtree #divinetree #godtree #naruto #narutoshipuden #infinatetsukuyome #genjutsu #uchiha #itctchi #saske #watercolour #boruto #hiddenleaf #birodrawings #drawingchallenge #prombtart #septemberartchallenge https://www.instagram.com/p/B1_6L4AFFwN/?igshid=1uw0t3q08su8j

[fatmalovestodraw]

Rainy day #hennatree #eucalyptus #tomato #cassia #pumpkin #rose #garden #happyplants #petunia #neem #godtree #littletrees #rain #doharain #coffee https://www.instagram.com/p/B5DUKsqgpPH/?igshid=1n5qffdawmnnl

[thelastomnitect]

#WORLD52 WEEK 3 SUBMISSION:

OLANBRANCH

Week 3 of #WORLD52 is here, Voyagers! For this week's Worldbuilding and art we're visiting my latest project: the PRIMAL MONSTER TAMING FANTASY TTRPG setting of-

(SUMMONER: THE WILD HUNT is still in developement, but look for us to start airing the actualplay and dropping a demo packet sometime in MAY 2025!) The world of Summoner is quite different from our own. So, let's take a moment and set the stage.

-------------------------LORE BEYOND HERE-------------------------

Long ago, before time began and as the first stars flickered to life, the great Godtree-

Oᒪᗩᑎ

-grew. It sprawled from nothing, it's roots binding and winding about all things. It stretched across the gulf between stars, circling their warmth. It grew through nebulas and the cosmic dust of life. It grew across all things, for Oᒪᗩᑎ is life itself, and it is the nature of Oᒪᗩᑎ to grow beyond itself.

Time passed on, and the Godtree's leaves fell and regrew, its bark mulched and healed under eons of age. It wished to be hearty, and solid. So it grew and shed and grew and shed until all across it's mighty form grew layers of dirt and dust and stone, miles deep, compacted by the pressure of it's own weight. So the first EARTH was formed. And it was good.

But Oᒪᗩᑎ was not satisfied. It wished for more than mere stone and soil to grow upon it, solid and sure though it was.

So more time passed on, and Oᒪᗩᑎ felt the breath of creation upon it's leaves. Cosmic dust blew through its boughs, and the Godtree wished to breathe as it did. So it grew it's leaves out, and pulled the star zephyrs towards its surface. Slow and carefully, it pulled the dust about itself, and exhaled, wrapping itself in a cloak of breathable air. So the first WIND was formed. And it was good.

But Oᒪᗩᑎ was not satisfied. It wished for more than the mere stone and soil upon it, solid and sure though it was, or the ephemeral wind that danced over it, gentle and swift though it was.

So yet more time passed on, and Oᒪᗩᑎ felt the warmth of the stars it snaked around. It reached for them, entranced by the heat, and grew towards them. For the Godtree wished to grow as bright and warm as they were. So it grew it's branches out, and dipped creepers into the stars. The creepers burned and scorched, and as the flames traveled up the creepers, it's embers slipped beneath the dirt and mud and stone upon the Godtree's hide, and found places to burn and melt. Volcanoes and magma grew, a burning lifeblood in the world's veins. So the first FIRE was formed. And it was good.

But Oᒪᗩᑎ was not satisfied. It wished for more than the mere stone and soil upon it, solid and sure though it was, or the ephemeral wind that danced over it, gentle and swift though it was, or the meager flame that simmered within it, warm and bright though it was.

So yet more time passed on, and Oᒪᗩᑎ felt the coolness of moisture on it's limbs. It's leaves and brush passed through a nebula, and the Godtree wished to be so cool and soothing as it was. So it grew it's leaves out and ice within the nebula began to coat them. The warmth within the Godtree melted the ice, and the cool liquid rand down it's branches in great rivers and torrents. It ran into valleys and beds, forming rivers and seas, and it seeped beneath the surface, to form aquafers and oceans. So the first WATER was formed. And it was good.

But Oᒪᗩᑎ was not satisfied. It wished for more than the mere stone and soil upon it, solid and sure though it was, or the ephemeral wind that danced over it, gentle and swift though it was, or the meager flame that simmered within it, warm and bright though it was, or the shallow water that flowed through it, cool and soothing though it was.

So yet even more time passed, and Oᒪᗩᑎ felt increasingly lonely. For, as majestic as it was, wonderous as it was, clad in Earth and Wind and Fire and Water as it was, it was alone in all that was and would be. It searched and it searched forever unto never, and no matter how far it grew, it could only find it's own branches. And Oᒪᗩᑎ wept, for nothing but it was truly alive. Until, one day, the Godtree ceased it sorrow. For it realized, if nothing else was alive, it would simply have to grow more life!

And so Oᒪᗩᑎ reached deep into the Earth, and spoke life into the stone that protected it. It said, I AM OᒪᗩᑎAND I GIVE YOU LIFE. I NAME YOU SEᑭᑌ. YOU WERE FIRST, AND THROUGH ALL THINGS YOU SHALL ENDURE. And a spirit sprung forth from within the earth and smiled at it's maker, and Oᒪᗩᑎ was filled with joy.

So Oᒪᗩᑎ reached up into the Wind, and spoke life into the sky that cloaked it. It said, I AM OᒪᗩᑎAND I GIVE YOU LIFE. I NAME YOU ᐯEᑎᗩ. YOU WERE SECOND, AND ALL THINGS SHALL FEEL YOUR GRACE.

And a spirit soared from the clouds and danced around it's maker, and Oᒪᗩᑎ was filled with joy.

So Oᒪᗩᑎ reached within the Fire, and spoke life into the flame that warmed it. It said, I AM OᒪᗩᑎAND I GIVE YOU LIFE. I NAME YOU ᗩᖇᗪE. YOU WERE THIRD, AND ALL THINGS DRAW FROM YOUR STRENGTH.

And a spirit burst from the magma and roared for it's maker, and Oᒪᗩᑎ was filled with joy.

So Oᒪᗩᑎ reached across the Water, and spoke life into the streams and rivers that soothed it. It said, I AM OᒪᗩᑎAND I GIVE YOU LIFE. I NAME YOU ᕼEᒪᗩ. YOU WERE THE LAST, AND ALL THINGS DRINK DEEP OF YOUR KNOWLEDGE.

And a spirit rose from the lakes and oceans and sang for it's maker, and Oᒪᗩᑎ was filled with joy.

No longer alone, Oᒪᗩᑎ stretched it's limbs out for the spirits to rest within. It wove it's branches into hammocks, for it wished for that which it made to know peace. And Oᒪᗩᑎ said. I AM OᒪᗩᑎAND I HAVE GIVEN YOU LIFE. I TWIST MY BRANCHES FOR YOU, THAT YOU MAY REST IN MY SHADE, SO THAT YOU MAY ALWAYS KNOW PEACE. THIS IS MY COVENANT TO ALL I HAVE MADE.

And Oᒪᗩᑎ finally was finally content.

-------------------------LORE END HERE------------------------- Thanks for joining me in this week's #WORLD52!

We'll be back next week with WEEK 4, so keep an eye out!

[criticalglitch]

When Kingmaker wants a burger, they've got lines out the door of men and women offering one to them on silver platters along with prayers and sacrifices

When Casimir wants a burger he drags himself across six miles of broken glass and then kneels on hot coals and whips himself for having earthly desires

If Casimir asks Kingmaker for a burger they cook one in front of him and throw it on the ground and step on it

[skelekins]

not on mobile now

I have a lot of problems thinking with Dream/Night since background is super important to understanding characters and I don’t really get their backstory (tree? Why they over what they over? Generally ???)

So for my nightmare I’m just thinking of him as

He cracked open with Dream from an “apple” off some tree. Idk maybe the tree shits out deities when the universe says so. They came out of the apple as fully formed young adults.

Dream is short for Daydream, not actual dreams. He’s literally all sunshine aspirations and the relaxation and fun of letting your mind wander. He can enter dreams but he usually doesn’t due to his ambient effects potent enough in dreams to be intoxicating and accidentally drugging people.

Night in turn is all about dark, night, the moon, anxieties and bad shit. He regularly sleeps and regularly dreamwalks as it’s his preferred method of scouting for information and communicating. His ambient effect makes dreams turn more sinister (not necessarily a nightmare, it can develop into one, but more that oncoming creeping sensation of something bad)

🤷 idk about how night got gooped. Maybe he was just actual Dreams before he omnomed Grandmother Godtrees apple taint. I kinda see them as helping each other out with the balance + generally not going too far since it turns the energy sour

[venterry]

thinking about playing dark souls again via elden ring has an unexpected outcome of rekindling my interest in my greek gods ripoff project (diosyne)

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Writing Update Jan. 17th, 2024

Progress made: 5.6k words added to Echoseers and Goddess-Touched combined [total GT wc: 1.3k as of this morning; total ES wc: 148.3k], about 2/3rds of page 1 of The Lost illustrated. Current writing streak: 875 days Current chapter + POV: In the midst of chapter one, Ember POV for GT, and chapter one Aralian POV in The Lost!

Favorite line(s): Echoseers; Ember POV

And then something changes. The hairs on the back of my neck raise. Death and doom and fear pin me in place, as an uncanny silence overtakes the world, muting even the waves and the birdsong and the wind. The silence hangs. In the distance, [REDACTED] drops. As [they fall], the Godtree splinters. A moment later, the sound--all encompassing, all-consuming, all-destroying--hits the ship with enough force to tear the sails, knocking Lakia from her perch on the rigging as one of our masts splinters, too. My ears give out as I’m thrown back, and between the flashes of pain as I hit the wall of the quarterdeck, I watch as a plume of sawdust and charcoal erupts outward from the heart of Impalfahr.

What I'm looking forward to:

well the gt drafting process is already going way smoother than the first couple tries. i wrote all 1.3k in less than an hour of active working and all of that was this morning and i still have the urge to write more. the last attempts took me days to get that far so heres to breakthroughs and lightbulb moments!!!!

[aspelladay]

Dogwood

(Cornus florida) Safe to interact with.

Folk Names: Boxwood, Budwood, Dogtree, Florida Dogwood, Flowering Cornel, Flowering Dogwood, Green Osier, Virginia Dogwood. Powers: Wishes, Protection.

Magical Uses: Place the sap of the dogwood onto a handkerchief on Midsummer Eve. This will grant any wish you may have, if you faithfully carry the handkerchief. Dogwood leaves (or the wood) are also placed in protective amulets.

(from Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs by Scott Cunningham)