:: Random NPC—Wyrtweard, Stranger of Darkness ::

Wyrtweard (“Plant-Guard”)

by Wm Jay Carter III, 5/28/15

Race: Stranger (Minor God from Another World)

Age: Venerable

Gender: Male

Stature: Average

Physical: Short Neck

Outwardly: Cheerful

Inwardly: Domineering

Profession: Gardener

Magic: Avatar—Darkness

Catchphrase: “Hello! What exactly brings you to my neck of the woods?”

You turn the map around in your hands, convinced it has somehow changed while you weren’t looking. The canopy of the dense jungle seems to choke the light of day into a dull haze, preventing you from gaining your bearings. Resolving that staying put could not possibly be better than pressing on, you step over one of several identical patches of shaggy ink cap mushrooms, choose a direction, and start walking. Suddenly, you are met by an invisible wall. No, not a wall, but a crumpled—yet infinitely sturdy—old man whose head seems to have collapsed onto his shoulders with nothing in between. He was so well integrated with the shadows that you did not notice him before. “Hello!” he says with a light laugh, as if he were greeting you at the entrance to a festival on a sunny day. “What exactly brings you to my neck of the woods?”

So old he can no longer remember his real name, he is known among gardeners and farmers as Wyrtweard, the Guardian. Legend does not chronicle his arrival to Athanasia, but it must have been near the time of the First One, for an era does not exist that is devoid of his stories. He is the watcher in the shadows of the forests, and the patron of decay, entropy, and things that thrive in the dark.

Wyrtweard’s influence, though gratefully accepted by those who plant and till and prune, is rarely sought after. Under his pretense of helpfulness is no more than a manipulative bully. For wherever he provides a plentiful harvest, it is ultimately to feed his agents of decay. Certainly, any attitude but gratefulness toward Wyrtweard’s boons only result in his spoiling his “selfless” gifts prematurely. For this reason he is closely associated with decomposers such as mushrooms, specifically the shaggy ink cap, and fairy rings made of these are considered under his protection.

Even in urban areas where his boons are less meaningful, Wyrtweard still finds devotees among the thugs and ruffians who skulk in the alleys at night, especially Leonian bandits, who become well acquainted with the Stranger from the legends of their forest home.