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Untold years passed. The barrow was rarely visited, just a forlorn and forbidden ruin out on the steppe. No large hunting party or migratory convoy ever dared to pass within eyeshot of the cavernous entrance.
The partially-completed wall barrier around the entranceway did have the desired effect of causing the barrow to stand out along the plains. This served my intended purpose of luring in the occasional treasure seeker. This place had partially toppled-over ruins out front! Surely it was the barrow of a great king. Caught a handful of fools per decade in that fashion.
One day, a merchant with a pack of goods-laden donkeys camped out behind the half-finished wall, seeking to use the barrow entrance as a shelter against the rain. Once he and the donkeys were converted, I had the goods dumped into the throne room for examination.
There were ceramic vases and golden trinkets, unlike anything seen in the valley before. Coins gleamed in the narrow shaft of light allowed into my lair.
“I can use this,” I said to no one in particular.
The only response was a drip of water off some stalactite deep in the barrows.
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Under cover of night, I had some wights stick coins strategically along the edge of the wall. A trail led to the burrow’s edge, while vases and gold trinkets hung further in, within view of the entrance.
These paltry golden coins gleamed, visible from far away on the open plains. And once they’d lured in the curious, the trinkets within the barrow tunnels would lead them further into a gauntlet of traps and undead horrors. Sure enough, my visitors increased from a handful of victims per month to at least one new soul every month at a minimum.
It was a perfect system. Even if treasure seekers stole the coins from up front and managed to sneak past pit traps and tripwires to steal some of the initial trinkets, they seldom came equipped with numbers or weaponry enough to put up a fight. Once they walked among my undead legion, I simply had them go return the bait to their position near the entrance.
For ages, this continued. The people who fell into my trap began to change, their attire increasingly appearing as bearskin furs and pointed ornate hats. They came bearing more coins and horse-drawn carts filled with other goods that helped to flesh out the lair with tempting treasures.
I used this time to perfect my trap skills, developing new forms of deadly ambush that even my predecessor had not conceived of. I sat upon my throne, tracking a group of three as they wandered through my maze.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Just after the barrow-tunnels turned away from the entrance, the path became littered with dozens of dead ends and divots off the main path. Treasure chests I’d appropriated from that merchant waited in the first few dead ends. The lesson was clear: take your time, clear out each fork in the path. Keep trying to push through these traps, they will lead to greater and greater rewards.
The trio of hunters were well armed, moreso than the average hapless sap. They’d cut clear through poor decaying Gavrin and two other wights from that now-decades rotten work crew like they were nothing. Now, though, the trio peered into a wooden chest as they picked the lock and cracked it open. There was a faint gleam of gold off their torchlight, then…
A great green miasma filled the tunnel, covering everything from the chest well into the main hall. There was no escape. A trio of figures writhed about in the thick cloud of gaseous death, falling over and hitting the wall in their futile attempt to flee.
Poison made the corpses stiff with rigor mortis and saggy with toxic gas. But I would take no chances, certainly not with a new type of weapon cutting through my horde. If some organized force was dedicated to clearing out the barrow, I feared I was still not powerful enough to hold out.
Within five hours, three poison-laden wights limped into the throne room. Their leg muscles were permanently stiff. They’d work as fair guards for my central chamber, even if they weren’t going to be chasing down any fleeing intruders.
The ‘lead’ treasure hunter – the one who’d cracked open my booby-trapped chest – presented his weapon. It was a scabbard, and within it was a finely tuned blade. It was made of a metal far stronger than anything I’d seen in my prior life. I would, much later, learn that this was called steel. But it had cut through Gavrin with one swift stroke. And their armor – I feared the paltry iron daggers and blades of my own wight army would’ve had no chance of even piercing it. Had it not been circumvented with poison, this trio may well have challenged me here in the barrow hall.
I grimaced, noting that my gums had worn away slightly, leaving my teeth in a permanent grin. One of these swords would rest with me. Another, with one of the more mobile guards. And a third would stay with the first major vanguard of wights once the traps were circumvented.
More devious traps, and a more elaborate layout, would be required to keep up with the times.
I concentrated on sinking the throne room hall. The walls began to shift as the hallway towards the entrance appeared to rise into the ceiling from my point of view.
With a groan, the hall settled. Just like that, the dungeon had a second floor. An entire other floor between me and any unwelcome guests.
Still, it would not be enough.
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The next victim came from Starfall again. He felled three wights before failing to check for tripwires. Another costly victory.
I called his wight down for inspection – ever on the lookout for better gear to take for myself or better distribute amidst the wights. He was wearing that Starfall crest on his armor, as well as an axe made of steel.
This was not the style, aesthetics, or even metallurgy of the village I’d departed.
I just sensed a galloping of a pair of horses fleeing from the front wall. With this would-be hero now among my undead legion, it appeared there was someone else who’d fled from the edge of my domain once it was clear the dungeon crawler wasn’t coming back.
Eh, no matter. I would have to redouble my efforts to keep up with this new weaponry. And for every curious onlooker who came here alone, I gradually grew my armory of steel weaponry and gear to keep up with the outside world.
Until, one day…
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