Hollow Hike - Realm 2: Defiled Church

"Hope is not without woe in a cursed path, but a hollow must fan even the faintest embers." Aliana the Dethroner sets off to find Ashen Lady Moira the Unquenchable, defiler of the church.

Hollow Hike is available at https://rollforthings.itch.io/hollow-hike

Index

Session 0: Prologue + review

Realm 1: Sanctified District

Realm 2: Defiled Church

I leveled up after the last boss fight, using 6 souls. I increased strength for a total of 4.
By the way, I messed up the FP last time. Characters are supposed to start with 3, not 1.

Aliana Lv:3
HP:4 FP:3 Strength:4(d6)

Powers (cost 1 FP):
- Heal 1 HP

Items (use and discard):
- Sunlight Drink (Heal 1 HP | refills at bonfire | RN uses)
- Furtive Ash (return to bonfire)

Current souls: 3

Realm Creation
Defiled Church
Realm Number (RN) 2

Bonfire bonus: roll 2d6, choose one result = 3+6
I chose 6 = Jolly Cooperation: Level 1 NPC with a random class to fight with you until death or resting.
I'll add the NPC later.

Roll d6 for encounters: 3
Encounters: 3 + RN = 5

Roll 2d6 for each encounter
1st encounter: 6+2 = foe with a quality
Roll d6 for quality: 3 = Mighty (+1 strength, +1 soul dropped)

Aliana pushed the doors of The Ember Covenant church. They rumbled open, spitting dust and raining grit on her shoulders. The hinges moaned in protest until the doors clanged against the walls.

The light of a Bonfire cut across the surrounding darkness. Aliana rested beside it and let the fleeting peace wash over her. Her body healed, her mind cleared, and her soul strengthened.

“Well done, Aliana the Dethroner,” Fire Keeper Cain said as he appeared by her side. Shadows danced over his smile. “A successful step, but only the first one. May I have the Fragment?”

Aliana struggled with conflicting feelings. The Divine Fragment called to her, a dear memory of the fallen king she loved and served. However, she ultimately wanted to do right by him and their Order. She handed it over with a pang of sorrow.

Cain took the Fragment and pressed it against his chest. It flared in a brilliant golden light, and then he seemed to absorb it. Staggering for a moment, he sighed, then righted himself.

“Good, Aliana. You make the Covenant proud. Or what is left of it. Look around. This depraved house is a mockery to our teachings. As the Ashen Lords grew more desperate to kindle the Fire, Mother Moira began birthing her saints as sacrifice. Perverted creatures of ash, flesh, and madness. Watch out for Moira and her saints, Aliana. This is her dominion now.”

Aliana set off to find Mother Moira, once the caretaker of sacred rites. Now she was Ashen Lady Moira the Unquenchable, preaching that life was holy when endlessly consumed.

She followed the hallway lit by flickering torches that provided little illumination or heat. A sickly stench of burned hair and flesh clung to the place. Tumors and pustules erupted from the walls, the spreading corruption of Mother Moira’s experiments. Aliana found a metal door, but it did not open from that side.

She proceeded to the nave. Meant for prayer and contemplation, it had become a monstrous charnel. Twisted pillars of bone, sinew, and stone jutted from the floor. Pews were replaced by birthing grounds, sizzling pits of bubbling blood and gore where Mother Moira birthed her dark miracles. A faint hum droned around the chamber.

A few saints stood frozen in poses of worship—kneeling, with arms raised, or their forehead against the floor. Others looked half-made creatures, abandoned to dissolve beside their macabre brethren.

A saint climbed out of an unholy womb, all melted flesh and powdery ash. Moira had long ago forgotten what humanity was supposed to be. The saint’s face stretched in a silent scream, and its limbs hang in unnatural angles. Eyes crusted in ash turned in pain and desperation.

Seeking death or deliverance, fulfilling its purpose or just mad, it slammed into Aliana. Even as she dodged, boiling blood and ichor splashed to sear her skin. She gritted her teeth, striking and jumping away, careful with its discharges. She dispatched of the saint not without sadness for the abomination.

Battle (Furtive Grasp rules: only the player rolls dice; 4+ is a success for attack and defense)

Aliana's strength: 4 = 4d6

Foe:
[RN + 1] HP: 3
[RN] Strength: 2 + 1 (Mighty)
[RN] Souls drop: 2 + 1 (Mighty)

Rolls:
4+4+6+3 (3 damage dealt)
Enemy dies

Current HP: 4/4
Current FP: 3/3
Current souls: 6

A sting in her calf made her jump. The half-formed saints surrounded her, burning her legs, oozing the burning liquid of their deformed bodies. Aliana screamed and attacked, but they swarmed her. She breathed deeply, keeping the anxiety at bay.

Metal gleamed around her in whooshing slices. The saints melted away, cut in half. A stark figure pounced on the enemies with ruthless precision and left them to perish, a long cloak flowing gracefully in its wake. Ending in a crouched position, the stranger slowly rose. The long cavalier hat with a plume, one side folded and pinned, revealed the face of a woman.

She extended a gloved hand. The other clutched a greatsword planted point-down beside her. Aliana took the hand and was pulled up.

“Nice to see a fellow hollow about. And a cleric, no less! I admire people who keep their faith before demise. Not all are that strong.” Her voice carried a blend of kindness and determination. The chinks and notches on her blade hinted at countless battles, as did her weathered and scuffed leather armor.

The woman inspected the room. “Wretched creatures, aren’t they? Born without life, and death won’t deliver them, burning for a fire that won’t kindle.”

Who was she? Her composed stillness contained an intensity of purpose. Aliana introduced herself.

“Well met. I’m Lirian of Cador, knight of the Dawnfire Order.” The Dawnfire Order served the King in Cinders under Vilmonder, Lord of Cador. Loyal to the true crown. The knight was far from home.

“I was never drawn to holy service, unlike my brother, Aeric. I’m searching for him. After the fall, he became obsessed with the Fire. Terrified of it fading. He preached of rebirth through ruin, and that led me here. Have you seen him? He would have carried the Dawnfire symbol. Here.” She flashed Aliana a badge of tarnished brass with a sword encircled by a wreath of flames. It looked unfinished, but a mirror badge, side by side, would complete the ring of fire.

Aliana shook her head.

“I will keep looking,” Lirian said as she put the badge away. “Hope is not without woe in a cursed path, but a hollow must fan even the faintest embers, don’t you think?”

Aliana could not help but feel heartache for Lirian’s desperate quest, but the relentlessness she showed also inspired her. She held the knight’s shoulder and told her tale, offering help.

“Together, huh?” Lirian pondered for a bit, then smiled, holding Aliana’s hand. “Gratitude for your compassion in a world gone dark. In Cador, we say a single candle can light a thousand others. Perhaps you are that candle, friend. Let us go through this nightmare given form, then.”

Lirian Lv: 1
Roll d6 for class: 1 = Warrior (+1 HP | Reroll up to 2 dice)

HP:4 FP:3 Strength:2(d6)

Power (Cost 1 FP)
- Reroll up to 2 dice

There are no rules for how the fight goes with an NPC ally. I decided to choose who the enemy will attack on any given turn, before rolling the dice.

With resolute steps, the newfound sisters-in-arms ascended the twin staircases leading to the rooms above, making quick work of the emerging saints on their way. Long, grotesque crossings marred by viscous flesh twisted and carried them through a labyrinthine layout, each time deeper.

Roll 2d6 for encounter
2nd encounter: 6+5 = two basic foes

Battle (Furtive Grasp rules: only the player rolls dice; 4+ is a success for attack and defense)

Aliana's strength: 4 = 4d6
Lirian's strength: 2 = 2d6

Foe:
[RN + 1] HP: 3
[RN] Strength: 2
[RN] Souls drop: 2

Rolls:
One foe attacks Aliana, one attacks Lirian
4+5+5+2 (3 damage dealt, no damage taken, enemy dies)
4+4 (2 damage dealt, no damage taken)

foe attacks Aliana
3+1+4+4 (2 damage dealt, enemy dies)
3+1

“When the King in Cinders fell,” Lirian said, “Vilmonder held the Order together for some time. We stood for Solomon. But with time, most lost their wits and despaired. I thought I could reason with the Ashen Lords and their envoys, even as they poisoned Aeric’s minds, and many others. I should have acted then. Cut them as they spouted their zealotry.”

Her shoulders sagged. Aliana understood that regret, that frantic strive for redemption. Was that not what all hollows sought?

“The Ashen Lords accumulated power quickly. Vilmonder perished, the Order collapsed, and Aeric was gone, preaching of eternal Fire. But eternity can be a prison. What if the world longs for an end? What if we found serenity instead of torment?”

Aliana’s breath caught in her throat at the mention of such a philosophy, so similar to what she found in Solomon’s diary page. She flinched, afraid of its implications.

“Forgive me, friend. I tend to ramble. Think nothing of it.”

But Aliana did think of it, and it scared her. Was that not why the Covenant deemed Solomon an apostate?

Roll 2d6 for encounter
3rd encounter: 6+1 = foe with a quality
Roll d6 for quality: 1 = Ambush (+2 strength the first time is encountered)

Foe:
[RN + 1] HP: 3
[RN] Strength: 2 + 2 (first time only, Ambush)
[RN] Souls drop: 2

They went down ladders into darker corners of the church, where the air smelled of decay. The walls seemed to close in on Aliana, gripping her heart with cold, dead claws. Lirian led the way, occasionally glancing behind her shoulder.

“I’ve heard tales of Mother Moira,” Lirian said, and Aliana appreciated the distraction. “Claimed to see a truer flame, perpetually lit, made of love and divinity. But this place is no testament to that. It is a monument of profanity. How far have the Ashen Lords gone in their addiction to the Fire. This is what fear ultimately leads to: crumbled idealism.”

Lirian did not see the saint stuck to the ceiling, waiting for a victim to latch on to. Aliana tackled her as the creature dived. Boiling mucus oozed on her neck and shoulders, spreading like lava. She shrieked and shook her body, her head whipping from side to side to dislodge the fluid, each violent tremor sending waves of searing hell on her skin. A guttural howl escaped her lips as her ear melted off.

Lirian had dropped her greatsword and was on her, wrestling the thing, burning herself to aid Aliana, viciously pulling and clawing, until the saint unclasped. Aliana fell down in pain as the knight cleaved the abomination, then sheathed her weapon.

Battle (Furtive Grasp rules: only the player rolls dice; 4+ is a success for attack and defense)

Aliana's strength: 4 = 4d6
Lirian's strength: 2 = 2d6

Foe:
[RN + 1] HP: 3
[RN] Strength: 2 + 2 (first time only, Ambush)
[RN] Souls drop: 2

Rolls:
Foe attacks Aliana
3+1+2+4 (4 damage taken)
3+3

I actually died after this infamous 6d6 roll with no successes. Lirian can reroll her own dices, but I chose Aliana as the target, so no use.
For story purposes, I changed it in the narrative.

Helping her up, Lirian slipped Aliana’s arm over her shoulder, cradling her waist. Blind in one eye and half her face deformed, Aliana wailed with each excruciating step, leaning on the knight for support. Lirian guided her forward, never rushing, just serving as a steady shield.

A bolted metal door appeared ahead. Lirian opened it, and they trudged through a corridor, ending up at the Bonfire. Lirian carefully helped Aliana sit.

“You need to rest, friend. I wish I could help more in your hunt. Alas, I must search for my brother.”

Aliana moaned and pleaded with her.

“I cannot. Time is convoluted. As you rest at these, the world goes on faster than you think. But do not fret. Go on, recover. I hope we meet again. Here, take this. It might be useful.”

Blade Resin

A tincture refined by the knights of the Dawnfire Order, harvested from the roots of a glowing tree in Cador. When anointed on a weapon, it shimmers with the light of daybreak.

The knights of Cador established the Dawnfire Order to swear fealty to the King in Cinders. Their Oath remained strong until the fall, leaving no darkness unanswered.

“Do not fade on me, friend.”

Aliana smiled, grateful for the solace of friendship.

Roll 2d6 for encounter
4th encounter: 4+5 = a secret
Roll d6 for secret: 3 = Hidden cache (Gain a random item | Resets with Bonfire up to RN times)

Roll d6 for item: 2 = Blade resin (+1 Strength this round)

By this time, I had returned to the third encounter and recovered my dropped souls.

Heavy fog took over, making Aliana whole. As the church materialized again, Lirian became a distant memory, slippery the more Aliana tried to grasp it. Her voice, her face, their conversations came to her in incomplete pieces.

Feeling she had lost something meaningful, she moved on through the recently opened shortcut to a new section of the church. She arrived at the sacristy, dusty and filled with cobwebs. Tattered robes lay thrown about in the room.

Something in the corner caught Aliana’s eye.

—to choose between truth and lie, that is not a choice at all. I shall not lie to my subjects any more than to myself.

Hollowing is not a spiritual punishment. It is not the rejection of faith or sacred duty. It is simply the consequence of a world stretched beyond its means. Prolonging is not the same as healing.

We have abused our land and our humanity for far—

Another burned page from Solomon’s diary. Aliana held back the tears as she put it away.

She marched through the defiled hallways until she reached the heart of the desecration. At the sanctuary, in front of the gore-caked grand altar, Ashen Lady Moira the Unquenchable stood chanting before her saints.

5th encounter: last encounter is a boss.
Boss stats are basic foe +1 Strength, 2 Qualities, and double HP. Drops RNx5 souls.

Roll d6 for each Quality: 5+6
5) Volatile: deals 1 damage for each die showing 1
6) Kindled: random class power + RN FP

(Curiously enough, the exact same rolls as the first boss)

Roll d6 for class power: 5 = Cleric - Heal 1 HP

Mother Moira
HP: 6
FP: 2
Strength: 3
10 souls

Power (cost 1 FP)
- Heal 1 HP

The air hung thick and stuffy with the scent of ancient death and ash. Flames from old candles that never extinguished danced and cast writhing shadows. Human remains obscured the once pristine flagstones on the floor. Ribcages and skulls formed a bone carpet, and together with worn out keepsakes and permanent blood stains, marked the Ashen Lady’s countless attempts to kindle the Fire, before she turned to her creations.

Her vestments were singed and tattered, soiled by the blood of the sacrifices and the ichor of her saints.

“All unfit to kindle, poor ashes,” Mother Moira said without turning. “The Fire needs proper offerings. Out of love, I created my saints. Out of love, they serve the Fire. And so they burn.”

She faced Aliana. The piety in her wide eyes burned with insanity, leading to a dark, empty abyss. “Show me your love, cleric.”

With a flicker of her hand, the floor under Aliana heated, then exploded in flames, scattering the bones around.

Aliana had already moved forward. She jumped, clutching her club with both hands, then brought it down with all her might at Moira’s head. The Ashen Lady reeled. Before Aliana could follow up, the saints came at her. Mother Moira used the distraction to heal herself.

The Ashen Lady kept hurling fire, using the saints to keep her distance. Flames licked Aliana’s clothes and limbs, slowing her down, sapping her purpose. As her robe burned, the pouch with resin dropped to the ground. Lirian’s dimmed features flashed in her mind.

Aliana spread the Blade Resin on her club. Golden light bathed the weapon. She avoided the saints and went for Moira, clubbing her when she found openings, cracking bone and bruising flesh.

Battered and spent, the Ashen Lady crumpled. She gazed at the altar, then at the remaining saints. “Fire is our curse and our blessing. Without it, we are all but cold, forgotten ash.”

Aliana unleashed the finishing blow. The saints wailed in unison.

Their cries of relief, pain, or both, echoed through the church.

They melted into nothing.

ASHEN LADY VANQUISHED

Battle rolls (Furtive Grasp rules: only the player rolls dice; 4+ is a success for attack and defense)

Aliana's strength: 4 = 4d6
Boss's strength: 3
4+6+6+1 (3 damage dealt, 1 damage taken [Volatile])
Moira heals 1 HP (Current HP:4)
4+5+1+3 (2 damage dealt, 2 damage taken [Volatile])
Moira heals 1 HP (Current HP:3)
Aliana uses 2 Sunlight Drink (Current HP:3)
Aliana uses Blade Resin (+1 Strength for 1 round)
[Note: Hollows can use an amount of items equal to their level.]
5+4+2+2+4 (3 damage dealt)
Boss dies

The world reverberated as the Ashen Lady’s demise sent waves of chaotic vibrations rippling against reality. Aliana clutched the Divine Ember to steel herself.

Mother Moira’s Fragment

A precious shard, radiating the faint warmth of divinity, yet tainted with the ghost of a broken Covenant.

The Divine Ember is a vestige of the old gods subjugated by Solomon ages past.

Resonates with the last remnant of the Ashen Lady whose love turned into unquenchable mania, and paid an unholy price to fuel a lie.

As the impact of her actions faded, an object among the failed sacrifices seemed to call to her.

Aliana picked up a badge of tarnished brass, symbol of the knights of Cador.

---

Notes

Another long entry, but I expected that since I had to flesh out our new companion a bit.

I really liked introducing a new character. Scenes in fiction, in my opinion, work better with 2 to 3 characters. Of course, great writers can make them work with whatever number. I just think less makes for easier reading and flow.

I actually snorted loudly when I rolled those terrible 6d6s. But honestly, that was fun. It really made the game feel souls-like for me.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. All feedback is very much welcome!