Vael’s Explanation of the Anchors and Hollow Thresholds#

(Vael stands still, his gloved hands clasped before him. His voice is quiet, but it carries — like a knife sliding under armor.)

Vael:

“You have seen the cracks, have you not? The fading stars… the twisted woods… the monsters that slip between places where no door should stand.”

(He tilts his head slightly, studying each of you.)

“The Elven barrier is not a wall. It is a tapestry — a weave of light and will, stitched across the wounds of the world. Each Temple you know — Winter, Summer, Autumn, Spring — holds one of the great knots, where the threads are pulled tight.”

(He raises two fingers, sketching an invisible net between you.)

“But the weave would tear under its own weight without its anchors — lesser nodes, quiet stones buried in forgotten glades, riverbeds, mountaintops.

They keep the barrier taut. They spread the strain. They preserve the balance.”

(His voice lowers, almost reverent.)

“And it is there — at these anchors — that the Cult of the Eclipse strikes. Not by tearing the Temples down… no. Not yet.

They corrupt the anchors. Weaken them. And where the threads slacken and sag, Hollow Thresholds bloom like rot beneath skin.”

(Vael pauses, letting the image linger — the party can almost feel the weave trembling beneath their feet.)

“Each Threshold is a wound… a door to the Shadowfell… and a noose tightening around this world’s throat. If enough anchors fail — if enough hollows bloom — the barrier will fall. And what has long been sealed will walk once more under a broken sky.”

(A breath.)

“You must understand. Slay the cultists if you wish. But it is not they who tear the world. It is the weave itself — fraying, thread by thread — that you must mend… or survive what comes after.”