Deep in a hidden glade, the Elder Spirit sits and guards the Ancient Wood with magicks powerful beyond the ken of mortal men. His is a realm without time, without age. Memory for the Elder is as the present, and his wisdom is boundless. It is said that he can be found only by mortals whose need for his counsel is truly dire. His power is that of life itself. It is the Ancient One that binds the breath of life into the molded, spiritless clay of the body. He is neither good nor evil, and can be swayed to take no side in any conflict, unless it be to stay the hand of one who would seek to harm the Ancient Forest.
The Lore of the Elder Days tells of certain nights, when the moon was full and the mist was thick, that his eldritch chant would drift from the dark of the silver-lit trees to enchant the very ground, infusing it with mystic life. It was on this sort of night that the people would pray.
-Excerpted from a treatise on the Arcane Faiths of the Unknown World
I took a hike on a beautiful summery day, climbing Mount Monadnock (in southern NH) with some of the guys in my hall. When we returned, I got an urge to put the song Guadosalam from the Final Fantasy X Soundtrack on repeat and just draw. When I looked up three hours later, this is what lay before me. (Such was my concentration that he is crooked on the page - at nearly a 45 degree angle.)
Pencil sketch, black Micron drawing pen (a very nice 'gift' my ex-roommate left behind when he moved out ;D)