Matthew Hunter

Wyz stabbed the skeleton next to him in the back and fled out the entrance of the barrow. Wizards have no business on the front lines of a fight and he was too smart to die. Let his minions face the skeletons. El Vis stepped up promptly, matching action to thought. His great sword struck the skeleton that Wyz had already stabbed and shattered it into bone fragments. Hannah fell after that, hit by an arrow from a skeleton further into the barrow.

One day of carousing quickly turned into two. Bancroft woke the next day with his head laying on the dirt, A tuft of grass for his pillow. Despite the alcohol, he felt remarkably improved. A deeper sense of connection to the Earth filled him. A night spent outside of town had done him good. The fog of alcohol covered his memories of the prior night, but he had been separated from his companions earlier in the evening.

Somehow, Druidly managed to dodge the blows the bandit sent his way for long enough to send a good half dozen of them into a magical nap. Those that were left promptly returned the favor and he fell unconscious to the floor. While the bandit leader was distracted yelling at us, the rats came up on him From behind. He screamed as they swarmed over him, but lived long enough to flee toward the stairs, commanding his followers to keep Druidly inside the barrow.

From the top of one barrow, a small green figure cursed and wrung his hands as he watched distant figures crawled around the entrance to another. “My book, my book. My book. Those bastards are going to steal my book!” Hanging from his belt were the implements of a wizard. Especially a new looking scroll case, ink jar, quill pen, rare items worth gold in a town the size of Helix.

Bancroft held the door closed until the sounds of fighting died down. It didn’t take long, just enough time for a quick prayer to Sylvanus to heal Gravelgnasher and relight some torches. The fighting had ended, but there were still rats outside from the sounds, just not trying to open the secret door. In the relative quiet, Bancroft heard a metallic clanking and scraping coming from further into the room, below the floor.

Bancroft and his friends returned to the barrowmaze. They chose to inspect two of the barrows to the far north. Each of the burial mounds had a pair of bronze doors. One set of doors was ornate, bearing symbols of Nergal that matched those on the free standing pillar to the south. Those doors resisted our attempts to open them. But careful inspection revealed a pentagram could be shifted to the side, revealing a keyhole.

Wyz paced back and forth in his room at the inn, keeping himself awake and annoying El Vis who was sharing the room. The book of magic haunted his dreams and waking thoughts alike. Who could say what secrets might lurk within? Yet, it was hardly safe to brave the barrowmaze alone. When the others were finally ready to return, they weren’t interested in going after the book. Instead, the barrow with the ooze was chosen for a return visit.

Bancroft stood on the top of the borough and looked down upon the tilled earth with satisfaction. Weeks of efforts spent to uncover a fresh borough had finally paid off. Yesterday the door had been uncovered and opened. Revealing a space within filled with four sarcophagi and many more giant centipedes. The initial expedition had killed several of the centipedes. But not enough. And the entryway had been buried once again to prevent further interest.

Bancroft stood on the top of the barrow and watched his friends dig. Someone had borrowed his shovel and there weren’t enough to go around. Someone needed to watch, so he did. It wasn’t all that different from watching crops grow. Almost as slow. The occasional frog or scorpion or skeleton wandered by in the distance. Not so long as they did not approach, the digging continued. It has been going on for days.

Wyz the smart goblin and a dozen of his closest friends lined up for the barrowmaze, enduring the cold rain. In point of fact, only two of them were very close, the rest were near strangers. But he’d been watching them; choosing them carefully, selecting those who seemed the most competent. One in particular, a dwarven cleric of Fortuna, seemed to have actual supernatural powers. The rest would do for cannon fodder.