When Benjenn and Tivlyn left the Knackered Neekerbreeker, the sky was a darkening indigo, fading into lighter blues, pale yellow and finally a faint red painted just above the Eastern horizon from the sun that had just dipped beneath it, though clouds were swiftly gathering. By the time they had fetched Tivlyn's younger brother, Warryn (who was quite excited to be going), and reached the Barrow Downs, the hour was late, nearly into the next day.
The moon offered no guiding light, Eärendil veiled from their sight by thick clouds. Fog had settled upon the rolling hills of Bree-land, heaviest in the Barrow-Downs, so thick that the rocks, stone barrow markers and strange ruins scattered across that grim land, could not be glimpsed until one stood right before them. Not even the lanterns the three held could pierce through the fog more than a few feet.
Tivlyn still couldn't believe all that had happened the past few days: Her best friend, Joseuf, was stolen away by wights that fancied his lute playing! The poor man was forced to strum for the wights for hours and hours down in the darkness of a barrow. Grawnya, Warryn and her managing to find Joseuf right before he collapsed from exhaustion, the three of them fighting wights to free him, fleeing the Barrow when they heard more wights approaching, their screeching and hissing echoing after the quartet.
Then, when Tivlyn thought all was well and safe, she learnt that Neekie, her Neekerbreeker, had dug a tunnel all the way from the Knackered tavern, clear to the Barrow Downs! And some of the Wights that remained in the Barrow they had saved Joseuf from, had found the tunnel and prowled through it to the Knackered! Emerging from the tunnel and demanding the bard back!
Thankfully Garibald, Benjenn, Raspi and Tivlyn had bested the wights, with help from Neekie and her unnerving love of eating Wights (which it seemed was the reason the Neekerbreeker had dug the tunnel in the first place), but Tivlyn had to be sure that none of those that had taken Joseuf remained in that barrow, Benjenn and Warryn helping in that endeavor, so here they were...
The journey to the Barrow Downs had been quite pleasant, with the constant stream of light hearted chatter between the Locksley siblings, and Benjenn's occasional contribution to the conversation, especially when Warryn had asked to hear some Beorning battle phrases, but now an odd hush had fallen over the small group as they arrived at the Barrow Downs.
The air in the Barrow Downs felt heavier and far more cold than the surrounding hills and meadows, so cold that the trio could see their breath as they traversed the small knolls and hills there. The oppressive silence would break occasionally from the distant howl of a wolf in the Old Forest, or the closer howl of a barghest. The howl of the wolves did not bother Tivlyn, they never had. She almost found an odd comfort in the sound; wolves were pack animals, and so was she. The barghest howls, however, grated at her nerves. Every so often, Neekie would chatter softly, or click her wings rapidly, but even she seemed quieter than usual, though not at all unnerved, which was more than could be said of her companions.
Ominous figures seemed to move in the fog around them, just in their peripheral vision, yet no sounds of anything approaching could they hear, and when they turned towards the shapes and lifted their lanterns to attempt to get a better look, the figures would vanish or seem a trick of the low visibility and dim lantern light.
"Don't like that. Unnatural." Warryn grumbled in a whisper, finally speaking what they all were thinking, Benjenn grunting in agreement.
Before them in the fog, the barrow mound Joseuf had been taken captive in and rescued from loomed suddenly, the stone that had sealed the entryway still rolled away, leaned against the side of the mound. Near the mound, they could just barely perceive freshly disturbed earth.
Tivlyn took a deep breath. "That must have been where Neekie's tunnel came out." Tivlyn spoke quietly, Neekie circling the dirt with several affirmative sounding chirps.
"How'd the wights even know where it led??" Warryn whispered, fixing his lantern to his belt, before drawing his greatsword.
"I'm guessin' they didn't, just heard me voice and recognized it when they drew closer to the Knackered." Tivlyn replied softly as she did the same with her lantern, getting her axe and hammer in hand. "Either that or whatever maliced magic causes them to creep about after death, helped them find who they sought."
"Thunder and honey, let's hope they don't have such powers of tracking." Benjenn grumbled, fixing his lantern to his belt as the others had, before taking Beesting from its place against his back, the golden yellow alloy of the great axe seeming to soak up all the lantern light as he gripped the handle tightly.
The four of them stood before the yawning dark of the opened barrow. There was a breeze coming from it, and the air that drifted out from the passage was colder still, rank with decay and despair: Something that had once, long ago been human but had been twisted into something cold and cruel, that had long forgotten anything about warmth and love.
Neekie’s wings clicked, the sound sharp as knitting needles in the heavy dark. She crept a few inches forward, mandibles twitching toward the passage, then she gave a series of low, eager chitters.
Tivlyn winced. “Aye, girl, I know ye love bones, but don’t go runnin’ off ahead!"
Warryn swallowed hard. The flame in his lantern flickered low only once, but it was enough to make his stomach drop. “Why do I feel like it knows we’re coming??”
Benjenn’s jaw tightened. “Because it does. I'd wager that wights don't slumber.” He gave the Locksley siblings a look, steady and grounding, before raising Beesting and stepping through the dark entryway.
Warryn looked to Tivlyn, nodding towards the doorway. "You next. I'll take up the rear."
"Warry, no. I-"
"This ain't up for debate. I'm -not- Allister," Warryn spoke of their absent older brother, "I actually have your back! Always. Get in the middle." He urged, calm yet stern.
For a moment, Tivlyn didn't see her younger brother standing there, she saw their father.
"Listen to your brother, Tivlyn." Benjenn called over his shoulder, speaking kindly, yet his words weren't a suggestion.
Tivlyn took a deep breath and followed after Benjenn, Warryn falling in step behind her.
The shift was immediate. Sound changed, their footfalls echoed strangely. The glow of the three lanterns they carried pushed back only a few feet of the dark before being consumed. The walls were slick with damp and overgrown with roots and vines, visible stone carved with runes that seemed to twist away from the light.
Neekie crawled along the ceiling, her silhouette stretching monstrously with every sway of the lanterns.
For a long time they walked in silence, no sound but their footsteps and Neekie’s skittering along the ceiling, and the occasional distant drip of water onto cold stone. Down they walked through the twisting passage, stopping to peer into chambers and alcoves, finding nothing but unmoving bones, all the while the air grew colder, thicker, and the dark seemed to loom ever closer, the range of the lantern glow diminishing in an almost imperceptible amount as the moments stretched on.
"Maybe Neekie ate all that remained?" Warryn whispered, though he might as well have shouted with how his voice shattered the quiet.
Neekie chittered back, low, a warning sound this time.
Tivlyn froze mid-step. “Ye hear that?”
No one answered. Because the sound answered for them.
A soft dragging. Like fingers trailing through loose earth, and bone dragging slowly against stone.
Then another.
Then dozens.
Warryn gulped, clutching the hilt of his sword tightly as the glow of their lantern revealed pale shapes rising up before them, some only skeleton, and some gaunt forms half rotted, with faces like shriveled masks stretched too tightly over bone. Their empty eye sockets glinted faintly with cold, uncanny light. The wights hissed, a long, hollow exhale that sounded like malice, jealousy and hunger all mingled together in a horrible dissonance that would never be in harmony.
Benjenn stepped forward without hesitation. “COME, THEN!” Beesting buzzed as it cleaved through the nearest wight, scattering brittle ribs and ancient cloth. Tivlyn barreled into the fray beside him with a battle cry, axe and hammer swinging. Warryn lunged, lantern swinging wildly as he hacked again and again, the three of them carving a path through the wall of bones and decaying skin that had sprung up before them.
Neekie dropped down from the ceiling onto a wight, her many legs clamping down with frightening speed. Her mandibles clicked once, her teeth chattered, then she tore a piece of its spine free. The wight’s body collapsed down to the dirt and stone as she eagerly devoured the piece of spine she'd ripped free, and then the rest of the wight followed, Neekie's wings buzzing with delight.
“Good girl!” Tivlyn shouted, then ducked as two wights lunged for her. She struck the legs out from under one with her hammer, Benjenn hitting the other with a swing from his axe that pierced through the ribcage and pressed the wight against the stone wall, blade of the axe sinking into a twisting of thick roots and vines growing down the wall. Benjenn yanked Beesting free, and Tivlyn lunged in after to hammer both the wights down into the dirt, Warryn cutting down wights beside them, Neekie devouring each wight she moved against.
Into the heart of the barrow they fought deeper, deeper than Tivlyn had gone with Grawnya and Warryn, for the grim concert Joseuf had been forced to perform had taken place in an upper chamber that they had already long passed. They cut and hammered through the reawakened dead until they reached a massive chamber. Large stones ringed the room, carved to resemble the faces of ancient kings, but every face had been scraped, gouged, mutilated as though by rage or despair.
In the center stood the barrow’s master.
A tall wight, taller than Benjenn, loomed there, draped in the remnants of burial robes deteriorated with age. The gaunt face wore a crown of twisted iron. Its mouth gaped open, and a chilling cold rushed out of it like a blizzard.
Warryn stumbled, dropping to one knee. “I...I can’t… move…”
Tivlyn grabbed his tunic, hauling him back as Benjenn charged the crowned wight.
The creature raised a hand. Benjenn slowed mid swing. Not frozen, but his movements had shifted to a snail's pace, dragging through the air like cold honey. The wight leaned forward, its hollow eyes with cold lights deep within the sockets locking onto Benjenn's scarlet eyes, the wights rasping voice crawling over their skin:
“Warmth hath long fled my withered spirit; I scarcely recall the feel of it. For but a moment did the Bard’s lay stir embers within…Yet even that stolen comfort is sundered now. Sundered when he was stolen away! You should have returned him here! Sink…Sink deep…Into the chill of the grave…Let cold claim thee, as it hath claimed me. FALL...INTO...COLD...SLUMBER.”
Tivlyn gritted her teeth as she felt the words clawing at her mind, begging her to kneel. To lie down. To freeze and sleep forever. Her hands shook...She could see Warryn on his knees, sword laying forgotten beside him, before he curled onto his side, looking so tired and cold...
Then Neekie leapt from a stone, landing directly onto the wight’s face. With a furious, triumphant screech, she sank her mandibles and teeth into it and began chewing. The wight convulsed violently, making a harrowing sound that was like a blizzard force wind atop a mountain.
Benjenn broke free of its spell with a guttural bellow, swinging Beesting in a roaring arc. The blade struck true, shattering through the wight’s ribcage. Tivlyn lunged in and swung her hammer against the wights legs. With a powerful yank, Neekie freed the Wight's head from its body, leaping to the ground with her prize. Warryn pulled himself to his feet and took the lantern from his belt, shouting at the others to stand clear.
"YE WANNA BE WARM?! HERE! SUN ON YOUR DOOR, YOU PRUNE!" Warryn shouted as he hurled the lantern at the wights feet, flames catching dry robes in a sudden burst. The head of the wight shrieked in Neekie's maw, the body flailing, until with a few grotesque chomps from Neekie, the shrieking ceased.
The creature collapsed, Benjenn swinging his axe at its flame consumed form: "The bee stings for the hive!" He snarled.
"That's feckin' right!!!" Warryn encouraged.
Beside Benjenn, Tivlyn brought her hammer down again and again upon the flame consumed bones and gaunt, decaying flesh. The remains of the wight went still, and a gale force wind seemed to rush out from the remains, before the wind ceased and the cold eased. The chamber fell silent.
Smoke curled around them, faint and smelling of burnt rot. Tivlyn coughed and her legs trembled. Benjenn leaned heavily on Beesting, sweat mingling with soot on his brow. Warryn leaned against a stone, chest heaving.
Neekie skittered over to the ashes and bone fragments, feasting! She seemed to enjoy charred wight even more than regular wight, and then she sat there, legs tucked contentedly beneath her like a cat that had caught several fat chickens and had quite the satisfying meal.
Tivlyn staggered over and bent down, stroking the Neekie's hard carapace tenderly. "Good girl. Best girl!”
Neekie chirped proudly and spat out several iron spikes from the wight’s crown.
Benjenn managed a tired chuckle at that. “I'd wager she’s earned a treat.”
“Wights were the treat.” Warryn muttered.
They gathered what little composure remained and made their way out. The cold eased as they stepped back into the fog, which had lessened, the night air slightly warmer, less hostile.Though only slightly. Dawn was nearing, a faint grey light beginning to soften the dark.
The four of them emerged victorious, yet they felt the weight of the barrow still clinging to their bones. Except for Neekie, of course.
Tivlyn shivered once, looking back at the dark mound behind them. “Let’s…Not come back here unless we have to.”
Benjenn nodded. “Aye. And next time, we bring more fire.”
"I hope there isn't a next time, fun as fighting alongside you three is. Give me goblins under an open sky to fight!" Warryn groaned. "I need a long soak in a steaming hot bath! I feel as if me very bones were carved from ice and that cold water flows in my veins!"
Neekie clicked her wings cheerfully, because as far as she was concerned, it had been quite a feast and a fun night with friends!!!
Benjenn clapped Warryn on the shoulder, smiling. "Take heart, Warryn! The sun will soon be shining down upon you. The fog, clouds and dark are leaving, and dawn approaches." He told the young man, before looking to Tivlyn. "See your brother home, Tivlyn. He's in want of a warm drink and a hot bath. I'll continue on to the Old Forest, to seek merry Mister Tom." He said as they made their way out of the Barrow Downs, heading toward the dawn.
"Make for Adso's Lodge on the road towards Buckland, there's a path into the Old Forest behind it." Tivlyn advised Benjenn, kneeling to draw in the dirt. "The path is hard to reckon sometimes, but it's there. Don't stray from it, turn here, here, and....Here." She drew how the path twisted, making a circle at the end, Benjenn crouching to inspect the map. "Right there should be Mister Tom's cottage." Tivlyn said as she stood, Benjenn standing after a few moments, Tivlyn giving his shoulder a squeeze. "Good luck, and be careful."
Warryn nodded, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them. "Aye, beeeeee careful, don't get stomped by an angry tree. Sun on yer back and safe roads to you! If ye don't turn up at the Knackered in a day or two, we're coming to find ye!"
Tivlyn nodded in agreement with her brother. "Aye, that we are. I bet Neekie could track ye. Neekie! Where's Benjenn?" Tivlyn asked Neekie.
Neekie looked up at Tivlyn, chittering and chirping at her as if to ask: Are you blind??? Before the Neekerbreeker ran to Benjenn and chewed gently on his boot affectionately.
Tivlyn knelt, patting Neekie several times and giving her a piece of dried trout out of a pouch from her pack. "Good girl! So smart!" She praised before rising to her feet.
"She keeps surprising us. Thank you both for your concern, I will be careful." Benjenn assured them with a weary smile.
Warryn grinned, moving to hug Benjenn, clapping the larger man on the back several times as he did, Tivlyn hugging him as well, so that briefly, the Beorning was enveloped by Locksley affection, standing there stiffly, awkwardly patting both of their heads after a few moments. "Thanks for helpin' us clear the barrow. Bring us back a good story! Hopefully ye talk to an ancestor or two." Warryn chuckled, releasing him.
"Aye, hopefully they show at last! And thank you for helpin'." Tivlyn told him, stepping away as well.
"Anytime there is a need for aid, I'll help if I'm able. Sun on your backs." Benjenn nodded to them.
"Sun on your door, and on your floor!" Warryn waved, striding away down the hill towards the East Road, where it would lead to the west gate of Bree
"See ye, Ben." Tivlyn waved, bounding after her brother, whilst Benjenn ambled down towards the road as well, but away towards Adso's Lodge.
"We should go hotcake Joseuf." Warryn yawned when Tivlyn fell in step beside him.
Tivlyn yawned as well, rubbing her eyes. "The food or the game??"
Warryn smirked, cackling softly. "Both. Definitely both." He decided, Tivlyn joining in his laughter as the first rays of the sun peaked over the hills.
