Odrun Fell

The Sable Archive is a library, but not the kind that one would expect. It is a library of faces. It is an ancient Hollowmask roost that is eerily abandoned. Hundreds of preserved visages lie within the dim chambers. Scholars and seekers occasionally find their way here, drawn by the rumor of power or magic gathered within the masks, the lives preserved in a form that can be worn. The archive is no passive monument. The magic of Odrun's Greatclub runs deep through the Shroud, and deeper still here in the archive. Within, the faces stare, not carved or hung, but almost as if the are being worn. Some drift in the air or flutter faintly in the alcoves or between the trees, many are affixed to the Shroud itself. Some who travel within lose a piece of themselves, only to find a mask with their features hung on a tree that had not been there the day before.

Concealed deep within a ravine choked by thorn-barked trees and curtain-vines, the Sable Archive appears at first like a ruin swallowed by the Shroud. Massive, petrified beetle shells form a cathedral-like vault half-buried in the moss-drowned earth, their spiral plates darkened to an obsidian sheen. Pale fungal lanterns pulse from inside, casting strange silhouettes against the ribbed chitin walls. Clusters of masks—cracked, weeping, grinning—hang from thorn hooks like offerings or warnings, and the air hums with an ambient resonance, as though secrets are being whispered just out of reach.