Odrun Fell

The Lamenting Hollow is as beautiful as it is silent. There's not a sound coming for local wildlife. No birds sing, no insects buzz, and the wind itself seems to try and avoid passing through. The trees that encircle the Hollow are not even trees, but creatures that were once roaming the Shroud, only to have become wooden prisoners by some ancient magic. The Spiral entrance at the Hollow's heart is unlike any of the others. It doesn't descend as much as it draws those nearby downward. Its edges are slick with rootglass and the air is warm, damp, and eerily still. Delvers who pass through will often see visions of the memories of others who have passed through, as if the hollow rearranges parts of your mind with those who have come before in an attempt to prepare those who enter for the dangers that lurk within the Spiral. Most explorers who seek entry into the Spirals come through the Lamenting Hollow.

The Lamenting Hollow is a wide, sunken glade encircled by corpse-pale trees twisted into the shapes of grieving figures—some slumped in despair, others with branch-limbs raised in silent screams. At its center lies a shallow depression filled with bone-white fungal blooms that release faint whispers when brushed by wind or passing footfall. Black sap drips from hollowed trunks into grooves along the forest floor, forming rivulets that spiral inward toward a dark opening in the earth—an unnaturally smooth sinkhole veined with glowing root-filaments, pulsing like a sleeping heart.