In the small town of Silver Oak rests a towering Oak flush with silver metallic leaves that chime in the breeze, even during the heart of winter. Its story, and its secrets lie within this humble text...
A magical tree, suitable for any fantasy campaign.
In your world the pantheon is a rotating system of formerly human individuals. You have been selected for god-duty for the next 2,000 years. How are you going to get out of this?