Arc V- Chapter 8: Shadows

The climb from the Hollowborn depths was far easier than the descent had been.

Vris moved through the vast tunnels of the Deeps with a confidence he had not possessed when he first entered them. Where once every shadow had threatened teeth and chitin, now the passages felt strangely quiet. The Hollowborn workers and warriors parted from his path instinctively, their many eyes watching him with something that was not quite obedience and not quite reverence.

Behind him, two of the Queen’s marked warriors followed like silent statues of living armor.

Their chitin had darkened under the shadow marks Vris had carved into them, the sigils faintly glowing in deep crimson pulses that matched the rhythm of his own heartbeat. They moved with perfect discipline, never speaking, never wandering, simply guarding.

For the first time since entering the Deeps, Vris did not feel hunted.

He felt… dominant.

The sensation pulsed through him like a second heartbeat. The aura of command that now surrounded him seemed almost tangible, pressing outward from his body like invisible pressure. Even the air in the tunnels felt different around him.

Stronger.

Faster.

His body moved with greater ease as he ascended, muscles responding instantly to his thoughts. The bond with the Hollowborn Queen had changed him more than he expected.

And it wasn’t just the physical strength.

The necromantic sigils along his arm had changed as well.

Vris glanced down briefly while moving through a narrow passage of stone and root. The runes that crawled across his forearm no longer sat dormant like scars. They pulsed faintly now, shifting like living script as dark energy ebbed and flowed beneath the skin.

Power.

Dormant, yes but no longer distant.

He could feel it waiting.

Ahead of him, the tunnels began to widen into familiar terrain.

The territory of the Deep Gnomes.

Vris slowed his pace.

Unlike the Hollowborn, he had no understanding of what the Deep Gnomes might do if they discovered him wandering their tunnels with Hollowborn escorts. They were intelligent, organized, and territorial.

That made them dangerous.

He moved quietly through a cluster of abandoned stone structures carved into the cavern wall. Old encampments marked the area scattered tools, extinguished fungus lanterns, and the faint scent of smoke that had long since faded.

Signs of recent activity.

They were close.

Vris adjusted his path, steering his small escort away from the gnome territories entirely. The Hollowborn guards followed without question, gliding silently through the stone corridors.

Further ahead, the tunnels narrowed again and dark water pooled along the floor.

Void Eels.

Vris could feel them beneath the surface long, serpentine shadows twisting through the depths of the black water. Their presence prickled against his instincts like distant lightning.

He avoided the pools carefully, taking higher passages where the stone remained dry.

There was no need to risk a fight.

Not when he was so close to the surface.

At last, the faint glow of firelight appeared ahead.

The camp.

Vris stepped out from the tunnel mouth into the wide cavern where the Ethrani and his escorts had established their temporary encampment.

The reaction was immediate.

Hands flew to weapons.

Stone-Eaters and Blackgrin orcs rose from their positions around the fire, their instincts reacting instantly to the sight of the two Hollowborn warriors emerging from the tunnel behind him.

Then they saw Vris.

And the tension broke.

“Hah!” Hadrik barked first, his broad stone-grey face splitting into a grin. “The Fanglord returns!”

Dunzok let out a sharp laugh beside him, slamming the butt of his axe into the ground.

“I told you the little monster wouldn’t die down there.”

Several goblins rushed forward with obvious relief, their eyes bright with excitement as they saw their leader emerge alive. Greeting the Fanglord with grasps of admiration and happiness. He cracked a smile for them glad to be in all of his companions presence.

But not everyone welcomed the sight so easily.

Shirae stepped forward from the edge of the camp.

Her expression was sharp.

The moment she saw the Hollowborn behind him, quartz formed along her arm with a grinding whisper of crystal. The blade extended instantly, its translucent edge glowing faintly in the cavern light.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Explain,” she said.

The camp fell quiet again.

Vris stopped walking.

Shadow-lit crimson eyes flicked briefly toward Hadrik and Dunzok before settling calmly on Shirae.

The Hollowborn warriors behind him stood perfectly still.

“They’re with me,” Vris said simply.

Shirae did not lower the blade.

“Hollowborn do not escort travelers,” she replied coldly.

“They hunt them.”

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A few of the Stone-Eaters shifted uneasily.

Vris turned slightly and gestured toward the two warriors behind him.

“Stand.”

Both Hollowborn immediately snapped upright, their massive bodies straightening as if pulled by invisible strings.

The camp watched in stunned silence.

Vris continued calmly.

“Walk the perimeter.”

The two creatures turned instantly and began moving around the encampment in slow, obedient patrol.

No aggression.

No hunting instinct.

Just silent compliance.

When they completed the circle, Vris spoke again.

“Return.”

The warriors moved back to their positions behind him and resumed their silent guard.

The camp erupted into murmurs.

Hadrik blinked in disbelief.

Dunzok scratched the side of his jaw.

“Well,” the Blackgrin orc muttered, “that’s new.”

Shirae slowly lowered her blade.

But the tension in her eyes did not disappear.

“You didn’t kill the Queen,” she said.

It was not a question.

“No.”

The word landed heavily.

Shirae exhaled slowly, shaking her head.

“The elders will not like this.”

“They will say you should have destroyed her.”

Vris met her gaze evenly.

“The Ethrani will have to decide something,” he replied.

The faint glow of the runes across his shoulders shifted beneath the stone-carapace armor.

“What kind of world they want to live in.”

The cavern seemed to quiet around his words.

“One that clings to the past…”

“…or the one that comes after I break it.”

Hadrik barked a rough laugh at that.

Dunzok nodded approvingly beside him.

“I like the second one,” the orc said.

Still, disbelief lingered in the camp.

Even for those who trusted Vris, the truth of what they had just witnessed was difficult to grasp.

The Fanglord of the Red Maw had not merely survived the Hollowborn Queen.

He had returned with the entire hive under his command.

And as the Hollowborn warriors stood silently behind him like living statues, even the bravest among them realized something unsettling.

Vris was becoming far more than a goblin warlord.

Something new was taking shape in the Deeps.

The Rootweb Council

Vris- “Goblin ingenuity.. I mean what did you expect?”

Shirae led them through the twisting passages of the Rootweb, her stride steady though the tension around them thickened with every step. The two Hollowborn warriors followed silently behind Vris, their chitinous forms scraping softly against the stone as they moved through the ancient tunnels. Hadrik and Dunzok walked close behind, while the rest of the small escort watched the creatures warily.

Word traveled faster than footsteps within the Rootweb.

By the time they reached the main entrance of the Ethrani stronghold, the cavern was already in uproar.

Dozens of Ethrani gathered along the great arch of braided roots and stone that formed the gateway to their subterranean city. Weapons of living crystal formed instantly along their arms and shoulders as they saw the Hollowborn approaching beside Vris.

The reaction was immediate.

War cries erupted through the chamber.

Several Ethrani lunged forward at once.

“STOP!”

Vris’s voice cracked across the cavern like thunder.

The force of it carried something more than sound his growing aura of dominance rolled outward like a wave. The Hollowborn guards behind him snapped to rigid attention, but did not move to attack.

Shirae stepped forward immediately, raising her own quartz blade.

“Hold!” she shouted.

Her voice cut through the chaos with surprising authority.

“They are with him.”

The Ethrani froze.

Confusion rippled through the gathered defenders as they stared between Shirae and the two towering Hollowborn standing calmly behind the goblin warlord.

Slowly, reluctantly, the weapons lowered.

Murmurs spread through the crowd.

“What is this?”

“He walks with Hollowborn?”

“Impossible.”

Shirae turned to Vris and gave a small nod.

“The elders will hear you.”

The council chamber of the Rootweb lay deep within the great cavern city, carved into a vast hollow where colossal stone roots braided through the ceiling like the ribs of the earth itself.

The Ethrani elders waited there.

Ancient figures of stone and crystal, their bodies grown thick with centuries of mineral growth and living root.

The chamber filled quickly as more Ethrani crowded inside to witness what many already whispered about.

The goblin who had returned from the Hollowborn nest.

Alive.

Escorted.

Vris stood calmly in the center of the chamber.

The two Hollowborn warriors waited behind him like statues carved from dark chitin.

Shirae addressed the council first.

“He faced the Queen,” she said.

The elders leaned forward slightly.

“And?” one of them asked.

Vris did not answer with words.

Instead, he turned toward his Hollowborn guards.

“Stand.”

They snapped upright instantly.

“Walk.”

The two creatures obeyed immediately, circling the chamber slowly as the gathered Ethrani watched in stunned silence.

When Vris raised his hand again, the warriors returned to his side without hesitation.

The room erupted in voices.

“He controls them!”

“How?”

“That should not be possible!”

Several elders rose from their seats.

“You were tasked with destroying the Queen,” one said sharply.

“You have failed your task.”

The murmuring grew louder.

“You were sent to end the Hollowborn threat!”

“Instead you bring them into our halls!”

The chamber threatened to dissolve into argument.

Vris lifted his hand.

Silence returned not out of obedience alone, but because the weight of his presence had become impossible to ignore.

When he spoke, his voice was calm.

“You have a choice.”

The elders frowned.

“You can return to the way things were.”

His crimson eyes glowed faintly beneath the shadow of his brow.

“You can pretend nothing has changed.”

He gestured slightly toward the Hollowborn warriors.

“But if you think the Queen will show you mercy after you have chastised me for my methods…”

His voice hardened.

“…then you are mistaken.”

The words settled heavily over the chamber.

The elders exchanged uneasy glances.

They understood the truth immediately.

The Hollowborn were no longer a threat Vris had merely survived.

They were a force he commanded.

Without him standing between them and the Queen’s hive, the Ethrani would once again face the endless waves of chitin and venom that had plagued them for generations.

One of the oldest elders finally spoke.

“You would have us submit to the Red Maw.”

Vris shook his head slowly.

“I would have you join something new.”

The silence stretched long enough that the entire chamber seemed to hold its breath.

At last, the elders began speaking quietly among themselves.

Minutes passed.

The murmurs slowly shifted.

Resistance faded.

Practicality took its place.

Finally the eldest among them turned back to Vris.

“We see the path clearly.”

He bowed his head slightly.

“The Ethrani will stand with the Red Maw.”

A wave of voices erupted through the chamber as the decision spread through the gathered crowd.

For the first time in their long history beneath the mountain, the Ethrani had chosen to join forces with a power beyond their own people.

And at the center of it all stood a goblin warlord who had returned from the Deeps with an army of shadows behind him.