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. Maybe even weeks. But it was today that the clink of shovel hitting stone resounded through the area. The diggers had finally uncovered a door.
The sudden sound must have attracted attention from the frogs because before long two of them hopped up to investigate. Torhu kept squinting at them, trying to determine if she recognized their bulging eyes and amphibian faces. She moved forward with confidence in her steps, preparing to re enact the mating dance she had improvised the last time we encountered such creatures. Amazingly, it seemed to work. One of the creatures stopped its attacks and simply stared while she danced. Bancroft threw his pitchfork at the other, striking it in the eye, And a rain of blows from the rest killed it. This was enough to cause the first frog to lose interest in Torhu, and it fled.
Luckily someone had brought a sledgehammer and we made short work of the stone door. Inside was barrow entrance, much like the others. The inside of the barrow was dark. Dank. It smelled of dirt and insects, like turning over a rock. Not like the rich earth of a farm. But the swampy, wet, sandy mess that grew nothing but weeds. The sun was still high in the sky, so. Someone lit a torch and descended into the Burrow. Below, four stone coffins lay in the room, quiet and still. As the group approached, however, a sudden chittering was heard from the ceiling as centipedes dropped down from above.
Most of the group were trapped in the narrow entrance. Bancroft was stuck at the back and could see very little, but he heard screams as the centipedes engulfed the front ranks. When one of the creatures appeared, crawling over the corpse of its victim, he threw his pitchfork again and slew the centipede in turn before retreating out of range. Two more of the centipedes fell to blades, but two more humans fell as well.
With the forces of men on the outside of the barrow and equal casualties on both sides, the melee paused for a moment. Bancroft had no interest in going down into the barrow with more centipedes, and they had no interest in leaving. The stalemate held until someone noticed the sun was low in the sky and it was time to return to Helix. It seemed prudent to cover the entrance back up with dirt, just half an hour or so worth of work, So that the barrow would remain unplundered until we returned. The centipedes did not object.
At least next time, Bancroft would know what to expect. All the treasures of a fresh barrow lay before him like a field ready for harvest.
