— Ammon (@Ammondn) May 10, 2025
It was midnight on Thuros, the 9th day of Stormtide, beneath a waning crescent moon. The stars burned under the sign of The Shard Serpent, and violet thunder rolled over the Thornwood Reach. The strange storm phenomenon known as Riftlight danced across the clouds — an omen whispered to thin the veil between realms.
Our heroes — the legendary Elder Mage, stealthy Chai, righteous Ammon, enigmatic Glow, dream-seer Dream, and the shapeshifting spy known only as Shift — arrived in the shadow-shrouded settlement of Duskwatch Hollow.
Beneath the gnarled eaves of the forest, glowing silver moths rose from the earth in unnatural silence. The locals called it The Unfolding — a sign that something ancient was stirring beneath the roots.
Inside the Crownroot Tavern, secrets were cheap, and dangers cheaper. The party approached Jorren Crake, a silver-toothed smuggler, seated in a corner nursing a bruised jaw and a reputation twice as dark.
“You lot look like the type that ain’t afraid of bones creakin’ or doors moanin’ at night,” he rasped, sliding a parchment across the table.
“This here’s a map to the Barrow of Black Elm. Crypt of Ylsendar’s down there. Old dead-king. Fungal lunatic. Never died right, if you ask me.”
“Bring back anything that glitters. Or don’t — I’ll take your gear either way.”
The party agreed.
Into the Veilroot Ravine
Rather than take the well-known (and well-cursed) Forsaken Trail, the group chose the Mushroom Chasm Descent, a bioluminescent ravine veiled in glowing spores and hallucinogenic mist.
As they descended, a Wisdom check revealed unsettling truths:
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Elder Mage sensed arcane interference, a flicker of illusion distorting the path.
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Chai, graceful and silent, spotted clawed tracks and a recent disturbance in the spore trail.
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Glow detected remnants of teleportation magic.
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Dream felt the presence of an ancient slumbering consciousness, watching from within the mycelium.
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Shift, ever the scout, stumbled and dropped his blade — the sound echoed like a slow-motion scream.
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Ammon‘s heavy footsteps drew something’s attention. A growl rumbled beneath the floor.
Then came the voice.
“I come not to kill, but to test. Speak the answer, or be consumed.”
A Riddle Circle flared around them. The challenge:
“I am not alive, but I grow;
I don’t have lungs, but I need air;
I don’t have a mouth, but water kills me. What am I?”
Chai answered without hesitation: “Fire.”
The mushrooms flared. The circle fell. The voice whispered:
“Spoken true. You may pass — but tread lightly. Not all riddles seek answers. Some… hunger.”
The Crypt of Ylsendar
Further down the passage, the group halted to search for magical traps and secrets. This time, an Intelligence check revealed:
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Elder Mage identified ancient bloodroot glyphs used to contain, not protect.
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Chai dismantled mechanical traps — recently reset.
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Ammon recognized a sigil of the Hollow King, an oathbreaker who had merged with the forest’s rot.
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Glow sensed necrotic incubation — this was not just a tomb, but a womb.
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Dream saw the past: cultists and a throne of roots, a skeletal king leaking black sap.
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Shift inhaled spores and saw a vision of his party dead — himself alone, crowned in rot.
When the final gate opened, a vast chamber revealed Ylsendar, skeletal and overgrown, seated on a throne of petrified fungus. His hollow sockets glowed with flame.
“You have walked my rot and passed my riddle,” he rasped, rising with ancient stiffness.
“Now, choose your end.”
The final choice was presented:
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Destroy the throne
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Banish Ylsendar’s soul
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Trick him into a false vessel
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Appeal to the wild spirits for mercy
The party chose the fourth.
Chai’s Wild Heart
Chai stepped forward — unarmed, unafraid — and knelt at the edge of the throne’s mycelial roots. She whispered an invocation, placing a small bundle of moonfern and moss at the foot of the Hollow King’s throne.
“Ylsendar,” she said softly. “You were a protector once. Not a parasite. Return to the soil. The forest will remember you… if you let go.”
The throne cracked.
Ylsendar screamed — not in rage, but in grief.
The fungi receded. The glow dimmed. And with one final shudder… the Hollow King crumbled into black earth.
Epilogue: Spores to Soil
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Ylsendar’s Curse was lifted. The Barrow of Black Elm fell quiet for the first time in centuries.
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Chai was marked by the Wild Beyond — she now bears the favor of ancient druidic spirits.
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Elder Mage scribed the final glyph of Ylsendar into his grimoire.
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Glow pocketed a fragment of embercore magic from the crypt.
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Ammon reforged his oath, “Mercy for the Fallen,” into the stone of his hammer.
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Dream marked the vision fulfilled — the first of three foretold in his dreams.
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Shift left shaken, whispering, “It wanted me. Or maybe… I wanted it.”
Next Time…
What lies beyond the Barrow? What other dreams call to Dream? And how long will the Wild Beyond protect Chai before asking its price?
If you enjoyed this chronicle of The Hollow King’s Dream, share it and stay tuned for the next adventure. The Realms are far from silent… and not all riddles are answered with words.
