Bancroft stood atop the barrow and watched his friends dig. Someone had borrowed his shovel and there were not enough to go around, so he kept watch. It was almost like watching crops grow — slow and steady. Occasionally a frog, scorpion, or skeleton wandered in the distance, but the dig continued until, at last, the clink of shovel on stone resounded: the diggers had uncovered a door.
The sound attracted attention. Two frogs hopped up to investigate. Tohru squinted at them, then stepped forward and performed the improvised mating dance she had used before; astonishingly, one frog paused and watched, while Bancroft threw his pitchfork and struck the other in the eye. The rest of the party rained blows on it, and it died. The remaining frog lost interest and fled.
Someone had brought a sledgehammer and they made short work of the stone door. Inside was a barrow entrance much like the others: dark, dank, and smelling of damp earth and insects rather than the rich soil of a farm. A torch was lit and the party descended. Below lay four stone coffins, and as they approached a sudden chittering announced centipedes dropping from the ceiling.
Most of the party were trapped in the narrow entrance. Bancroft, at the rear, heard screams as the centipedes engulfed the front ranks. When a creature crawled over a corpse, he threw his pitchfork and slew it before retreating. Two more centipedes fell to blades, but two more companions were felled as well.
The fighting paused with casualties on both sides. Bancroft had no wish to descend further into the barrow with more centipedes, and the creatures showed no interest in leaving. The stalemate held until someone noticed the sun was low; they chose to return to Helix and cover the entrance with dirt for half an hour so the barrow would remain unplundered until their return. The centipedes did not object.
At least next time Bancroft would know what to expect. The treasures of a fresh barrow lay before them like a field ready for harvest.
