Thistle was born to the whispering pines of the Glimmerwood, but he found the silence of the trees deafening. While his kin communed with spirits, Thistle studied the rhythm of coin and the geometry of power. His descent began with a deck of many-colored cards in a border tavern; within a month, his debts exceeded the value of the forest itself. To save his own skin, he didn't just run—he drew a map. He led the Iron-Root Mining Consortium to the heart of the Glimmerwood’s sacred ley-lines, watching from a distance as the ancient groves were stripped for their mana-rich soil and the elders were put to the sword.
Now, Thistle is a fixture of the capital’s high society, a towering giant in a powdered wig and straining velvet silks who sells secrets to the highest bidder. But the city is no sanctuary. He is haunted by 'The Green Vengeance,' a psychic rot he believes his slaughtered family cast upon him with their dying breaths. He hasn't slept in three years, fearing that the moment his eyes close, the cobblestones will turn to roots and drag him into the earth. He carries the Bone-Latch Key, a macabre relic he stole from a dying archmage, convinced it is the only thing that can unlock a door to a sterile, metallic plane where the reach of nature cannot follow.