Beneath the watchful branches of the ancient harvest tree, the people of Hollow Vale gathered beneath a silver autumn moon. Every year, on the night of the Hallow Harvest, lanterns were lit and offerings of grain, apples, and herbs were placed upon the old stone altar. As the flames danced, a hooded mystic raised glowing hands to the sky, awakening emerald and amber sparks that spiraled through the darkness. The villagers watched in silence, for legend claimed that this sacred ritual kept a long-forgotten evil sleeping beneath the roots of the tree. But on this particular night, the earth trembled. Crimson liquid seeped through the tangled roots while the village elder hurriedly completed an ancient rite from a weathered tome. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the clearing, and whispered voices drifted from the forest beyond. Realizing the seal was weakening, the gathered villagers joined hands around the altar, adding their strength to the ritual. The moonlight blazed brighter, the whispering ceased, and the ancient tree absorbed the darkness once more. Though the Hallow Harvest ended in relief, the elder knew the evil below had stirred, and before the next autumn moon, a hero would be needed to face what was awakening in the roots of the world.