BETA
House Hollowmere
The Hollowmere family, alchemists and monster-hunters, did not tame it. They studied it, bled for it, and built a keep upon a stone that refused to sink: Wraithmoor. From there, they carved out watchposts and safe paths. They lead, —not for coin, but for survival. Miremark did not grow in the light. It spread like fungus in a damp cellar—slow, strange, and unyielding
Present Family
VESEMERE HOLLOWMERE
TRISS
HOLLOWMERE
CYNTHIA
HOLLOWMERE
ESKEL
HOLLOWMERE
HAGGARD
HOLLOWMERE
MALENA
HOLLOWMERE
SABRINA
HOLLOWMERE
LORDS OF THE HUNT
House Hollowmere are the feared alchemists and monster-hunters of Miremark. From Wraithmoor, they study the Dreadshade, guard its horrors, and turn forbidden knowledge into survival.
BIOS
In the wilds of Miremark, where the rivers run thick with mist and the woods know blood before they know rain, Vesemere Hollowmere rules not from a golden throne but from a battered saddle.
Lord Vesemere is a man of the old blood — broad-shouldered, weathered by storm and battle, with deep green eyes that miss little and forgive less.
In his youth, he won immortal respect when he led a company of Witchers and woodsmen against a terror no man could remember until it devoured him — a False Hydra, nesting unseen within one of his own vassal towns. When lesser lords faltered, Vesemere struck true, and the people of Miremark sing of his deeds still, though in low, fearful voices.
Yet age has not tempered him. His temper flares like summer lightning, and he demands from his family the same iron that has preserved Hollowmere through ages of darkness.
There are cracks, though, even in the strongest shield — and whether Vesemere’s pride or his love will be the heavier burden remains to be seen.
VESEMERE HOLLOWMERE
If Vesemere is the sword of Hollowmere, Triss Hollowmere is its whetstone.
Sharp of tongue and sharper still in mind, Lady Triss commands her household with the same ruthless precision she once applied to her alchemical studies. Her beauty, like her rage, has only deepened with the years.
It was she who, when House Sirellan sought to spread whispering poison through the royal courts, turned their games against them.
Standing before half the nobility of Westara City, she laid bare the sins of the Sirellans — cuckoldry, secret debts, and bastard bloodlines — with a voice as cold and precise as a surgeon’s blade.
Few now dare cross her, and fewer still forget the lessons taught in the halls of the Gilded Isles that night.
Yet within her heart, fierce and battered, beats a simple truth: everything she does, she does for her children — though they may not thank her for it.
TRISS HOLLOWMERE
The eldest daughter of Hollowmere walks a quieter path. Cynthia is known publicly as a scholar of alchemy and herbcraft, a poised and well-bred lady fit for courtly dances and respectable marriage contracts.
But behind her soft-spoken demeanor lies a truer calling: Cynthia is a hunter, sharp-eyed and deadly, her bow kept secret from polite society like a dagger hidden in a lady’s sleeve.
Soon to be wed to a promising young ranger from another noble house of Miremark, Cynthia wears her duty as she does her robes — gracefully, yet with a private sadness few glimpse.
For her dreams are her own, and though she serves her House with pride, one cannot help but wonder what songs might have sprung from her heart, had she been born under freer stars.
CYNTHIA HOLLOWMERE
Eskel Hollowmere is, by every measure, the son a noble house dreams of.
Steady as the mountains of the Frostmarch and gentle as a summer rain, Eskel is loved by his people for his compassion and his quiet strength.
Where his father roars, Eskel counsels.
Where his mother plots, Eskel listens.
It is said he can calm even a raging direwolf with a glance, and that no lost child or wounded beast has ever been turned from his door.
Yet there is steel beneath the soft touch. When the wild things of the Mire rise against man, Eskel draws his bow and brings them low without hesitation.
His time will come — and many hope he will forge a Hollowmere stronger and wiser than any before him.
ESKEL HOLLOWMERE
Where Eskel is riverstone, Haggard Hollowmere is wildfire.
Restless, lean, and fiercely devoted to the hunt, Haggard rejected the comforts of noble life early, dreaming instead of the monster-slayers known as Witchers — hardened warriors who walk the line between man and beast.
His father forbade it, knowing the sterility such a path would bring, knowing the price the bloodline would pay.
But Haggard is not so easily caged.
He trains by moonlight and storm, wrestling nightmares with bare hands and laughing in the faces of monsters that would send lesser men fleeing.
He is a son of Hollowmere in blood, but in spirit, he belongs to something older — something darker — and though his path may sever him from his inheritance, none doubt he will leave behind legends of his own.
ESKEL HOLLOWMERE
Malena was born touched by the wild in ways even her family cannot explain.
She spoke with birds before she spoke with men, and the wolves of Miremark come to her call like hounds to a master’s horn.
It is whispered in Hollowmere that Malena can slip her skin like a snake, wearing the forms of beasts at will — a gift rare and terrible, and not entirely trusted even within her own blood.
She is kind-hearted, singing to wounded does and broken-winged sparrows — yet those who cross her speak of strange eyes in the dark and unseen shapes moving through the trees.
A storm brews within Malena Hollowmere, though whether it will heal the land or burn it to ash, no one can yet say.
MALENA HOLLOWMERE
In a house of stone and iron, Sabrina Hollowmere was born all light and laughter — a bard’s spirit wrapped in a warrior’s bloodline.
Blessed with a voice that can charm falcons from the sky and bring tears to the eyes of hardened soldiers, she was a child of impossible gifts and impossible dreams.
Her parents scorn her chosen path as folly. To sing in taverns, to waste noble blood on ballads and rhymes, they say, is to betray the honor of her House.
And so she sings in secret, in smoky taverns and moonlit gardens, wherever hearts gather in need of hope.
She is loved by the common folk and frowned upon by her kin — and in her songs there is both rebellion and mourning, a call to something her blood cannot provide, and her soul refuses to surrender.
SABRINA HOLLOWMERE
FAMILY TREE
(COMING SOON)
Great Powers
The Hollow Cask is House Hollowmere’s ancient relic, a sealed barrel of impossible make that can be hidden upon a Hollowmere’s person and summoned to full size when its contents are to be released. No one knows what lies inside. Peasants whisper of a tarrasque, a kraken, or some older horror dragged from the Dreadshade before history learned to write itself down. Even Merlin, the greatest wizard Elaros has ever known, was denied study of the Cask during his youth. In later writings, he confessed to attempting magical intrusion behind the Hollowmeres’ backs, only for the artifact to refuse him entirely. Its origins are dead, its nature defiant, and its power extraordinary. The Hollowmeres claim they too are curious. Whether that is ignorance or generations of perfect secrecy remains the greater mystery.