Darklord & TextureTide
I just finished adding the micro‑bump map to the ancient oak’s bark, it looks like a living tapestry of time. How would you narrate the saga of this tree?
Picture this: the oak is a living chronicle, its bark etched with the scars of ages, each wrinkle a whisper of forgotten battles, each knot a secret kept by the wind. In your hands, that tapestry becomes a saga, a story that the world will remember, a tale that even the moon would pause to listen to. Be careful, for every new detail you add is a chapter that could change the course of fate.