The Black Pits

“The land remembers what the gods have forgotten.”

— Inscription carved upon the stones of the Hollow Shrine.

 

Overview

The Black Pitts are among the most feared and least understood phenomena in all of the Southern Realms. Found in the shadowed basin of Vargan Vale, these abyssal chasms exude a palpable dread. From afar, they appear as fissures in the earth, ringed by scorched vegetation and blackened shale. Up close, they are something far more malign, depthless voids that seem to pulse with faint inner light, as if the darkness itself were alive.   Scholars, heretics, and fools alike have long sought to explain their nature. None agree, and few survive their inquiries. The Vale swallows not only men, but knowledge itself.  

The Landscape of the Vale

Vargan Vale is a hollow wound in the land, cold, perpetually misted, and devoid of birdsong. The soil is grey and brittle, breaking beneath the weight of even a light step. The air reeks faintly of burnt iron and stormwater.   By day, a dim light filters through the shroud of clouds, by night, the Vale comes alive with faint phosphorescent glimmers, tiny motes drifting up from the depths of the Pits like embers rising from a hidden forge.   The ground itself trembles in irregular pulses, as though something vast stirs far below.  

The Nature of the Pits

No two Pits are the same. Some are narrow cracks, others vast gulfs yawning hundreds of paces wide. The edges defy natural erosion, as though the stone has been gnawed away rather than worn.   When measured, ropes and chains vanish into the dark with no sound of impact or bottom. The air within each Pit vibrates faintly, and at times, words can be heard echoing up from the depths, usually in tongues long extinct.   The Deep Choir, a sect of blind monks dwelling in the ruins along the Vale’s rim, claim the Pits are not holes into the earth but mouths of the world itself, openings to a buried will beneath creation. They call it The Sleeper Below.  

“Every age grows fat upon the corpse of the one before. The Sleeper stirs when the feast grows rotten.”

— Sermon of the Deep Choir, Fragment VII

 

Origins and Theories

No consensus exists on what birthed the Pits, but several dominant theories persist:   The Monastic Cataclysm: The Order of the Deep Flame, ancient scholars of the underworld, are said to have dwelt here in the Second Epoch. Their attempts to tap the primal fire beneath the world ended in collapse. Their final rite, the “Descent of the Flame,” may have torn open the earth itself, birthing the Pits and devouring the monastery whole.   The Starfall Hypothesis: Fragments of obsidian glass and metal are often found near the Pits. Some claim a cluster of heavenly bodies fell here eons ago, burrowing through the crust and leaving the wounds that remain.   The Devouring Earth: Among peasants and grave-folk, the Pits are simply “the mouths of the ground.” They believe the Vale is cursed to consume any living thing buried upon it, and that the earth hungers for blood to remain still.  

Phenomena and Dangers

  Whispering Winds: The air around the Pits often carries indistinct murmurs. Those who listen too long claim to hear their own names, or the voices of the dead.   The Pull: A subtle compulsion draws the unwary toward the edge. Victims often step forward in trance-like silence.   Echo-Lights: Pale, shifting lights drift above the depths. They mimic torchlight or the glow of lanterns, luring travelers closer.   The Hollowborn: Pale, eyeless creatures with porous flesh and elongated limbs. They emerge on moonless nights, dragging prey toward the nearest Pit. Their shrieks sound like echoes of human voices.  

“One touched me, and the warmth left my arm. I saw my reflection in its face, my own, but hollowed out.”

— Testimony of Ser Kaldren, survivor of the Black March.

 

The Settlements of the Rim

  Graveholt: A ramshackle outpost clinging to the northern edge of the Vale. It serves as haven for scavengers, mystics, and the desperate. Its market trades in relic-iron and black crystal shards dredged from the shallows of the lesser Pits. Few there sleep through the night. They say the ground hums beneath their beds, and some mornings, entire hovels vanish without trace.   The Hollow Shrine: Ruins of the old Order’s temple stand to the east. Within the cracked altar stones lies a sigil that glows faintly when touched with blood. Many believe it marks the gate through which the Order communed with the Sleeper Below.  

Current Events

Rumors now tell of a new cult calling themselves The Reclaimed, who preach that the Pits are wombs of rebirth. They cast themselves willingly into the chasms, crying that the world above is the dream, and the world below is waking.   Others whisper of a figure seen walking across the surface of the largest Pit, cloaked in shifting light, The Speaker Beneath, herald of the Sleeper’s rising. Graveholt’s oldest seers swear they’ve seen the Pits widening each season, as though the Vale itself were inhaling.  

Closing

The Black Pits defy understanding. Magic unravels here, iron rusts in moments, and even time feels distorted, days lost, nights forgotten. Yet still, seekers come. Knowledge, they say, lies at the bottom of all things.   None have yet found that bottom.