Chapter 5: Vellhollow's Gates
The town of Vellhollow rose like a jagged wound in the landscape, surrounded by decaying walls and crooked spires that pierced the ever-present fog. As Kain and his companions approached, the sense of dread deepened, clinging to them like a second skin.
The gates were half-rotted, hanging from rusted hinges. A single guard stood beneath a flickering lantern, his armor dull and patchworked, and his eyes sunken as though sleep had abandoned him long ago.
"Halt," the guard croaked, stepping forward with a halberd. "State your business."
Kain dismounted, boots crunching on the gravel. "We seek passage. Our road has been... difficult."
The guard's eyes flicked over the group, lingering on the soot marks and frayed cloaks from the encounter at the bridge. "You bear the look of those who've seen the Hollow."
"The Hollow?" Aric asked, stepping closer.
The guard nodded grimly. "The woods are cursed. Have been for years now. Spirits, dead men walking. You're lucky to be alive."
"We lost the bridge," Kain said. "Whatever chased us… they're gone. For now."
The guard gave a hollow laugh. "Nothing's ever gone from the Hollow. Not really."
With a sigh, he pushed the gate open wider. "Get inside before the mist takes you too."
They passed through into the town, and it was worse inside the walls. The streets were nearly empty, lined with boarded-up homes and crumbling statues. A small market sat abandoned, stalls half-collapsed, their wares spoiled and left to rot.
"Charming," Rhyssa muttered under her breath.
Children peeked from behind broken shutters, and gaunt figures shuffled along the cracked cobblestones, avoiding eye contact. Kain could feel the fear in the air—thick, choking. It wasn't just despair; it was expectation. As if the town waited for something inevitable.
They made their way to the town square, where a notice board stood, covered in faded parchment and weathered warnings.
One flyer caught Kain's eye. A crude sketch of a figure cloaked in black, face obscured beneath a deep hood. The words beneath it read:
"Wanted: The Hollow King. Dead or alive. Reward: 10,000 sovereigns."
Kain frowned. "Hollow King?"
The guard, who had followed them inside, gave a weary nod. "He's the one who brought the curse, or so they say. Been years now, but no one's seen him and lived to tell about it."
"Any idea where he might be?" Kain pressed.
The guard hesitated. "They say he lives deep beneath the Hollow, where the roots of the world rot. Others say he's already here… hidden."
Kain exchanged glances with Aric and Rhyssa. The Hollow King. A name heavy with darkness, and more questions than answers.
Before Kain could ask more, a sharp toll rang out across the square. A bell, deep and resonant.
The guard's face went pale. "The bell..." he whispered. "That's not possible."
From every alley and crooked doorway, the townsfolk froze. Some dropped to their knees in prayer, others ran for cover.
"What is it?" Aric asked, eyes wide.
"The bell only rings when..." The guard's voice trailed off as his gaze rose to the top of the old cathedral at the edge of town. Its highest window glowed with a sickly green light, pulsing faintly.
"That tower's been empty for decades," the guard murmured.
Kain gritted his teeth. "Looks like that's where we're going next."
"No," the guard hissed. "No one goes near the cathedral. Not anymore."
Before Kain could respond, a chilling wind swept through the square, and the green glow intensified. The fog coiled tighter around them, and a low growl echoed from the shadows.
Rhyssa drew an arrow. "We're not alone."
Shapes emerged from the mist again—but these were no wandering dead. These things moved with purpose. Tall, emaciated, with elongated limbs and eyeless faces stretched into permanent screams. Each step they took left frost in their wake.
"Frostspawn," Aric said, voice tense. "They're not supposed to be this far south."
"They are now," Kain replied, drawing his blade.
The creatures moved closer, their breath visible in the chill. Townsfolk scattered, but the Frostspawn didn't give chase—they were focused entirely on Kain's group.
"What do they want?" Rhyssa asked.
Kain's eyes flicked back to the cathedral's glowing window. "I think we're about to find out."
As the creatures closed in, Kain noticed something. They weren't attacking. Not yet. They circled, like predators waiting for a command.
Then, from the mouth of an alley, a figure appeared. Cloaked in black, a silver mask hiding its face.
The figure pointed a skeletal finger at Kain.
"You," it rasped. "The Hollow King awaits."