Jack of Gaolwud

Background
For the first several decades of his waking life, Jack was nothing more than a simple woodland fae, granted dominion over a small grove not too far from the edge of the woods. The size of the grove reflected his status within the fae community; he was nothing special. However, the proximity to the edge of the woods granted Jack an opportunity that most other faes did not have: with some frequency, humans would come to his dominion, to rest, to explore, to take in the majesty of the woods.

Jack found the mortals fascinating, and took care to make his grove hospitable for them. While Jack didn't interact with the mortals directly, his presence was nonetheless felt. Fruit grew in the grove that couldn't be found anywhere else in the woods. a bubbling spring kept the grove cool in the hottest summer days, the trees laced in such a way that the cold of winter was kept out. All were welcome in the grove, but Jack took special attention to people who came to it alone, especially travelers who seemed far from home. Slowly, he began to find excuses to speak to those visitors directly, making idle chatter about who they were, where they were going, and any ways that he could help. He stayed out of sight, and never spoke to groups, but slowly the legends grew.

And legends became beliefs, and beliefs became minor acts of worship. Now even groups of travelers would make sure to leave offerings to Jack, asking the unknown grovekeeper for luck in their travels. People went out of their way to visit the woods, even if they needed to change their routes to do so. And one day, when Jack awoke, he felt entirely different from how he was when he went to sleep. Slowly, then all at once, Jack had become a god.

Nothing changed for Jack or the grove in the short term. Of course he was able to perform greater wonders in his dominion, and make it grander than before, but Jack was at peace, and not particularly inclined to change course at all. Decades passed, and the traditions of worship spread not simply between friends, guides, or acquaintances, but were passed down between generations. Even as the world changed, and industries blossomed, Jack's grove remained static, barely changing, always welcoming. And one day, someone came to Jack's grove to speak to him directly.

The mortal explained that they needed Jack's help, that their town across the forest was being destroyed, a shipwright looking to claim the woods that they'd lived in for generations as nothing more than lumber. They pleaded to Jack, the only god that their family had seemed to believe in growing up, to do something about it. And so he did. Jack brought a wrath down upon the mercenaries and would be loggers, rotting their tools in their very hands, gutting the ones who wouldn't back down, and turning any corpses into fertilizer for the ever hungry woods. Unfortunately, in doing so, he made an enemy.

It was years later when Jack's world was shattered. An army marched to his humble domain, and burned the grove down. Armed with cold iron weapons, and an amount of manpower that Jack couldn't directly contend with, Jack had no option but to flee the horrific force, his rage and fear causing his planeswalker's spark to ignite. He found himself on a world without humans, a world cruel and apathetic towards its inhabitants. And the trauma of his escape, tempered by the horrors of Shadowmoor, changed Jack, twisting him into the capricious being he is today.