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There are Hallowed Beings in Pharloom. They are not Higher Beings. They are beings from a place far to the east of Pharloom, on hallowed ground and hollowed out. Hallownest rests to the east, a looming presence that all are aware of but none like to speak of.
There is a protector, a scholar, and a ghost in Pharloom.
There is a protector in Pharloom.
She is a mere spider here, but she is the protector of her home. She is climbing higher and higher and higher to get back.
“Have you heard the whispers, little spider?”
“What whispers?” The protector polishes her needle. “I do not gossip.”
“There is a ghost in Pharloom and a wanderer looking for Hallownest.”
“Oh?” She must return before the second can get there.
“The ghost has a head of white, a cloak of grey, and a body of black. It has two horns, like you.” A pause. “Little spider, it looks quite a bit like you.”
A head of white, a cloak of grey, a body of black… A Vessel made it past the Howling Cliffs and into the Wastelands? How strange. “I care not of ghosts,” the protector says dismissively. “My home is filled to the brim with them.” The Vessel will not survive Pharloom. If it does she will strike it down like the rest. “Thank you for the knowledge, if you have more about them I would like it.” The protector stands.
“You just told me you did not like gossip, little spider.”
“I do not gossip. I listen and use the knowledge I gain.”
The other bug chuckles. “Whatever you say, little spider.”
The protector runs from the room, passing a scholar examining the mask that usually rests on his head and a ghost of monochrome trying to mend their nail in the shadows.
There is a scholar in Pharloom.
He does not know he is a scholar. He believes himself a wanderer. The mask on his head seals his memories alongside his mother's body in acid.
“Excuse me, do you know how to get to Hallownest?”
The bug he asks eyes him warily. Did he ask for their name? It's a little late for that now. “It’s higher,” they reply. “Go on.”
“Is there a map of the Wastelands? I'm fairly lost and I wish to get there quickly.”
“East.” The bug turns away from the scholar. “Go on.”
“...Ah. Goodbye.” The scholar walks off, nail by his side, passing but not noticing a protector in red that misses the mask on the top of his head and a ghost with tiny legs trying to climb a ledge with no dash, wall cling, or double jump.
There is a ghost in Pharloom.
At least, they are called a ghost. With a head of white, a cloak of grey, and a body of black, one could say they are a ghost.
They are not truly a ghost. They are a child following a scream.
They sneak by those taller than them, only having a weapon on the edge of shattering to defend themself. Perhaps being a child makes them innocent, for no one attacks them.
A protector in Pharloom will rectify that later. But not here, not now.
“Little ghost, where are you going?”
The ghost ponders. They do not speak for quite a while. Where are they going? “...Home, I think.”
“Where is home?”
“...Somewhere. Far away. I'm going to help.” Help what, the ghost does not know, but somehow they know that is their mission.
The other bug nods. What was their name again? The ghost cannot remember. They can't remember a lot of things. “I wish you good luck on your travels.”
“Thank you.” The ghost finishes the snack the kind bug gave them, the black under their white head absorbing it. Not quite the same as storing it away. The ghost takes some of the snacks and stores them away for later. They thank the bug for the food and scamper off, narrowly missing a protector that would kill them if she saw them and a scholar that would be a trusty guardian.
The citadel falls. The protector escapes. The scholar and the ghost still wander. There is a protector in the Wastelands and a scholar and a ghost in Pharloom.
There is a protector in the Wastelands.
How long until she returns to her home? She was asleep in a cage when she was taken to Pharloom. How could she have been so foolish? It was a child’s mistake to be taken.
She needs to be home quickly. Both Vessel and wanderer will be to Hallownest eventually. It will only be a matter of time.
Ahead is a cliff she recognizes. The Howling Cliffs. The entrance to Hallownest.
Her home.
The protector shoots her needle up the cliffside and away from the Wastelands.
There is nothing left for her there.
She must prepare for the wanderer and the Vessel.
There is a scholar in Pharloom.
He is lost and confused. The citadel fell, who toppled it? A spider with a red cloak. Someone the scholar thinks he should recognize. But… Not by wandering Pharloom. Something older than that.
The mask on his head hums faintly with a Seal of Binding.
The scholar asks a few questions and gets a few answers and soon he is out of Pharloom and into the Wastelands.
“Head east to Hallownest…” Well, that's where he's headed. He sets off.
There is a ghost in Pharloom.
There is a ghost OF Pharloom. They have been stuck here for quite a while so they have a new nickname. It's annoying. They pull themself up ledges, little legs wiggling.
“Hello there, ghost.”
The ghost jumps. Oh. It’s just a friend. They chirp in greeting, climbing up another ledge.
“Are you lost, ghost?”
They nod.
“Where are you going?”
“East.”
“Ah, Hallownest?”
“...Is that east?”
“Yes.”
“Hallownest.” They have heard that name, where have they heard that name? “I’m going.”
“Well, continue going up and you’ll get there.” The friend leaves, leaving the ghost to continue climbing up the ledges out of Pharloom. Not helping them.
Joy.
The ghost climbs and climbs and climbs, careful to never fall. It never hurts when they hit the ground but the fall scares them. Why it scares them, they do not know, but falling is bad. They eventually make their way out of Pharloom and into the Wastelands, their nail on the edge of falling apart.
Maybe they should get that checked out.
There is a protector and a scholar in the Howling Cliffs and a ghost in the Wastelands.
There are Hallowed Beings in the Howling Cliffs.
The protector narrows her eyes as the scholar scans the cliffs for a way to ascend.
“So you’d seek sacred Hallownest?” The protector yells from her perch high on the cliff. The scholar looks up at her, tipping his head. “Turn back, simple bug. This place is a corpse. It will grant only death. As will I, to those who seek to desecrate it.”
“Hello up there!” the scholar calls. “I’m only an explorer, I assure you. Here merely to witness. This nail I carry only to protect my own shell.” He shifts into a protective stance, just in case she decides to attack him. “I try to avoid violence if I can.”
“You lie,” the protector says. “Yours is the stance of a warrior. Hallownest has already suffered enough like you.” The protector throws her needle at the scholar, who cries out, blocking her attack with his nail. The protector lands near him and dashes toward him.
The scholar tilts his head down sharply, the needle hitting the mask on his head. The Seal of Binding flares with a brilliant white light and sends the protector flying backwards. The protector rolls and lands on her feet, looking at the scholar in bewilderment. The scholar is sent backwards a few inches and he lets out a pained gasp. He looks at the protector, nail held to his side. The Seal of Binding fizzles on the mask, dimming.
“That mask...” the protector whispers to herself. The protector recognizes that mask. She throws her needle up the cliff, ascending quickly. She does not like it, but the scholar has to stay. “Something else calls you here, simple bug,” she says to the scholar, “seek your wonders, but know you may find someone waiting.” The protector throws her needle up the cliff and disappears into the depths of Hallownest.
“...Hmm,” says the scholar. “How strange.” He wonders who that someone could be. He takes the mask from his head and examines it. No cracks, just a smudge where the needle came in contact. He brushes it off, replaces the mask, and begins to climb.
There is a ghost in the Wastelands.
There are many, MANY ghosts in the Wastelands and this ghost is frightened.
Why oh why oh why did they have to go to Hallownest ALONE?
There’s another faint scream that only the ghost can hear and they straighten their shoulders and their cloak. That’s why. There’s someone calling for them. They must find them.
They need the ghost’s help and that is what they are here to do.
To help.
...How?
The ghost doesn’t know. They’ll figure it out when they get there.
The ghost finds a cliff in their way. They're going to have to climb it.
“I hate climbing,” they mutter, nubby hands gripping the rock. “I'd rather descend. No more going up and up and up.”
They keep climbing anyway.
The ghost makes it over the cliff and walks down the path. There is a cliff in front of them, shorter than the one on the other side. They hesitate.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three-
The voice screams, loud and painful.
The ghost jumps.
There are no Hallowed Beings in Pharloom. There are Hallowed Beings in Hallownest.