We reached the first of the areas of interest within the Barrow-downs today. A dusty plaque just inside the entrance named this as the Barrow of Taradan. I found no mention of a Taradan in the local scholar's archives, but to have a barrow built in his name, this must have been a man of some import.
I suspect my methodical approach to treasure hunting is mildly vexing for my companion. He's not an impatient man or a reckless one from what I can see, but I think he expected something a little more exciting than slowly creeping along dank tunnels, recording every twist and turn in my notebook. Only once the area is adequately sketched will I see any gain from a place. It's different in ruins, of course, where much of what I deal with is open space, but in a place as cramped and claustrophobic as this, one wrong turn could mean the difference between escape and doom.
Luckily this particular barrow is not huge. It's larger than many I have seen, yet smaller than some, consisting of a large entrance chamber, a corridor with several turnings and two large burial chambers. The man and his wife, perhaps? It will take some investigating, I fear, for almost every surface is choked with layer upon layer of gossamer; ancient and rotten wisps creating an insulating layer for the newer, stickier surface.
Large spiders and the occasional wight stalk these hallways. We've faced a few of the beasts so far; less than expected however. I feel the eyes of more than we have seen, and that's accounting even for the extra pairs owned by each of the arachnids. I suspect the leggy horrors are simply biding their time before attacking.
I've managed to take a few small rubbings of exposed carvings as we've mapped the place. It may take some translating, but I've no time for that just now and Arnorian is not a language I am fluent in. Perhaps the rubbings themselves may be of some worth?
In the meantime, I'm covered in ichor. I imagine I look a state and smell even worse. That's never bothered me, but then I've never before had a handsome man trailing after me at such a time. His smile reassures me that he's not about to turn tail and run because of my stench. I wonder if that's a good thing?
