The Hollow Deep

Beneath the eastern reaches of the Ponsaglwan Bog, where the fog clings to your teeth and the ground breaths like a sleeping beast, lies the entrance to a place spoken of only in hush and rumour: The Hollow Deep. Said to be a vast, crumbling under-structure from a civilisation long-since forgotten (older than the scrolls of the Tewledandar Forest University, perhaps older than time itself) The Hollow Deep is a sprawling, flooded catacomb system honeycombing the swamp's underbelly. No official maps record its existence. The Archdiocese denies it entirely. But the locals? They tell stories. They say The Hollow Deep is where the gods buried their mistakes. That the air below hums with voices. That the water rises and falls with no moon. That those who enter return changed, if they return at all. The Ecclesium maintains a no-entry doctrine for the region for all its clergy, citing "spiritual corruption and metaphysical exposure". Some whisper that thy once sanctioned an expedition, only to have it end in madness and flame. Since then, access has been quietly restricted. No roads lead there. No guides will take you. Still, treasure-seekers vanish every few years, drawn by rumous of pre-apostolic relics, untouched magics, or texts that speak of a time when death could be reveresed. Most never return. The few who do, speak in broken poetry and wake screaming under new moons. To the outside world, is it just a stretch of dark bogland. But to those who know, The Hollow Deep is a wound in the world. A palce not just forbidden, but wrong. And the worst part? It's not empty. Something is still listening down there. And sometimes, it answers.