Godlich

Once, a god spilt his ichor from the heavens onto the earth. His divine blood, iridescent and golden, enveloped itself into the raw soil and wilted grass. It became one with the earth. It grew like mold, and smelt like colors—it was alien bacteria. The mystical fungus never dared to spread wide, but instead crawled its way up the skies, reaching heights beyond the tallest trees just to touch the heavens it once fell from. Like a leech, it was starved for something—that being the careless deity. This collection of odd land-corals and mind-altering ooze came to be known as the Godleech Garden. But soon enough, as time shifted, so did the tale, and its name went from “godleech” to “godlich”—for it was no desperate colony of meek microorganisms, but an encapsulated *** sent from above; an evil lich taken the form of an unimaginable forest of grown spores. It consumes the earth, because the heavens demand it to. Only the mad would tread through these peculiar catacombs, because no one who has set foot in ever came out again. // It is said, or at least commonly referenced, to be one, unanimous being dictated by millions of essences.