The barrowmaze opened today. Friends said to come help, get rich, and buy lots of drinks. Good friends. Bancroft followed. There was a line like a race, or like the market. When they reached the barrows, giant scorpions blocked the way; one of Bancroft’s friends was killed and the group fled. Afterward the party handed Bancroft a shovel and told him to dig. It was boring, like farming. He was used to farming, but had not signed up for adventures to dig holes. Still, someone must dig to search for treasure, and at least he was good at it.
