Gradsil

Gradsil (a.k.a. The Elden Tree, The Giant, Epoch One, Giver Of Life.)

Gradsil was the first living being to exist on the planes of Skjall. He is the result of Fjall'derahn's tear bursting through the sky and colliding with a stone, forming the seed that spawned Gradsil. His mother was Fjall'derahn's daughter, Fregi. Fregi cared for Gradsil as her own child and nursed him to the great tree that he stands as today.

Physical Description

General Physical Condition

Massive spruce tree. Few scars and broken branches.

Body Features

Branches that spread across the sky like lightning bolts. A runic etching in his bark said to be done by Fregi herself.

Mental characteristics

Personal history

Gradsil has grown over eons and has seen the world change around him to a nearly alien landscape. He has seen countless buckets of blood spill across the soil and has faced the loss of nearly all of his loved ones. His first son, the grand Ice Giant, he named his first born Gramlock. Gramlock then walked around the world naming all things; however, when Gramlock returned, he fell and died from exhaustion. This was Gradsil's first experience with loss and still affects him to this day. Gradsil now sits in the frozen wasteland of Skjall.

Accomplishments & Achievements

Creator of Life

Failures & Embarrassments

Cannot create immortal life

Intellectual Characteristics

Extremely wise

Morality & Philosophy

Helps those who are attempting to do the morally correct thing.

Divine Classification

Demi God

Species

Enchanted/Magic Flora

Ethnicity

Rodnic

Date of Birth

unknown

Year of Birth

8500 UA 9533 Years old

Circumstances of Birth

The All-Father's tear collided with a stone, forming Gradsil's seed pod.

Gender

male

Eyes

Dark Brown

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Spruce Bark

Height

443 meters

Weight

7690 metric tons

Quotes & Catchphrases

“How you sit, above the skies! You wish to be superior than your own creation! How selfish of thee! Your evil knows no bounds, my only son lies at my roots void of his essence and withdrawing my core. Could you not give my power to create those of gods? How wretched the gods are.” Per the Epic Poem by Fefee Groon

Known Languages

Giant, Rodnic, Elder God.