Wizards in the Hollow

As the three wizards stood at the edge of the Hollow, the wind howled around them, sending their dark robes flapping wildly in the gusts. The Hollow was a place of great power, a nexus of magical energy, the very centre of the Weave.

Galen, the eldest of the three, looked out over the vast expanse before them. "This is where it all began," he said softly. "The source of the arcane."

Beside him, Kaela nodded, her pale face set in a look of determination. "And this is where we will cement our place in history," she said, her voice barely audible above the roar of the wind.

The third wizard, a young man named Taran, stepped forward eagerly. "I am ready," he declared. "Ready to face Mystra itself."

Galen placed a hand on Taran's shoulder. "You have much to learn, young one," he said gently. "We will not face Mystra, we will become it."

Together, the three stepped into the Hollow, their minds focused on the magic that surrounded them.