"Do not mistake an empty skull for an empty spirit. Some vessels are hollow only so the forest may fill them once more."

Long before the first trails crossed the Elderwilds, there wandered a stag unlike any other.

The oldest songs do not speak his true name, for they claim it was surrendered to the forest long ago. Instead, they remember him only as the Hollow Hart.

The oldest songs do not speak his true name, for they claim it was surrendered to the forest long ago. Instead, they remember him only as the Hollow Hart.

When his mortal life came to its end, the Elderwilds refused to let so faithful a guardian fade into silence. The roots cradled his bones, the winds carried away his final breath, and the Dreaming rekindled his spirit with a pale blue flame that burns without heat or smoke.

His antlers were no longer those of the living.
The forest crowned him anew with the bones of those who had gone before, a reminder that wisdom is not gathered in solitude, but carried forward by every life that came before our own.

It is said the Hollow Hart walks only where the veil between the waking world and the Dreaming grows thin.
Lost travelers speak of seeing pale blue light drifting silently through the trees. Those who follow it with humility often find their way home before dawn.
Those who pursue it with greed or pride discover only empty woods.

For the Hollow Hart does not guide those who seek to conquer the Elderwilds.
He guides only those willing to listen.

Even now, the monks of the Veiled Reliquary leave offerings at forgotten shrines deep within the forest, believing the Hollow Hart still wanders beneath ancient boughs, watching over every soul who enters the woods with reverence in their heart.

Some say the blue flame is his spirit.
Others believe it is the Dreaming itself...
Burning quietly within the bones of its oldest guardian.