Wizened Lichen

Description:

The Wizend Lichen is a spectral, beard-like growth that hangs in pale, tangled strands from the limbs of ancient trees or crumbled ruins, swaying with the breath of the wind. Its hues shift between ghost-gray, dull sage, and faded silver, often tinged with the faintest seafoam or tarnished bronze. Whisper-thin and brittle to the touch, it seems more spirit than substance. Often seen clinging to places where memory lingers—abandoned homesteads, fog-choked groves, or trees struck by lightning—it’s regarded as a sign of quiet watching and old knowledge. The air around it carries a hushed stillness, as if time itself slows in its presence.

Stems & Growth:

• Lacks stems entirely—grows in fine, filamentous strands from bark, stone, or bone


• Prefers high-humidity areas with little disturbance—deep forests, mossy glades, and cliffside hollows


• Can form thick veils or curtains where undisturbed for decades


• Gives off a faint, resinous scent when soaked with mist

Lobes & Texture:

• Strands can range from thread-thin to finger-width, often curling or knotting with age


• Texture is dry and papery, but softens slightly in fog or rain


• Surface often bears faint ridges or ruffles like aged parchment

Spores:

• Spores released invisibly into mist—never seen directly, only noticed by sudden stillness or strange dreams


• Sporulation said to occur only during new moons or in the breath before dawn


• Healers once believed a single spore could ease grief or quiet nightmares if inhaled in sleep

Folklore:

"To see the Wizend Lichen hanging still in windless air is to be in the presence of something listening. Elders speak of it as 'the beard of the forgotten,' trailing from trees that have witnessed sorrow, secrets, or great silence. In some rites, it is used to mark places of reflection or mourning, braided into cords and hung from staffs or thresholds. Dreamweavers claim it collects echoes of the dead, and some believe a fragment left near a bedside can bring the wisdom of past lives. Others warn never to burn or trample it—for in doing so, you might awaken something that was waiting to be left alone."