Farthing spat in disgust. The Runelord had hired him as a burglar, not an exterminator. Fresh burrows rent the walls of the tomb, sarcophagi were dislodged, and body parts and grave goods scattered.
"Barrow worms. The Magus was a bit too fresh when they put him in this hole."
Tig grunted, "Yup... looks like we were too late. Gonna be hell to beg outta this contract."
"Well, let's poke around, but I have a bad feeling that the amulet ain't here."
"Me too,' Tig shrugged his massive shoulders, "but what can you do?"
Later, the two looked through the pitiful pile of loot. "Nope, no Amulet of Yunte. Runelord's gonna have our hides."
"Well Farth, we can tell him it weren't found."
"Not likely, Tig. 'Lord's not a man to be put off. Looks like I'm worm-huntin'."
"Well, you are the smaller of us."
"Thank you for reminding me..."
Farthing unlimbered his stabbing blade and helped his larger companion to fashion a rope harness for him.
"All right. Tether me with this - I get into a pinch, haul like the Nine Hells to yank me out - Don't want one of them bastards sucking my guts out. Remember Reynald?"
"Yah, rest his soul. Just hope that burrow don't collapse - you're gone for sure then, and then I'd have to go find me another hairfoot thief."
"Thanks for your camaraderie, Tig."
"Which one you gonna pick first?"
"There on the left - 'lord said Magus was wearing the amulet, and I can see scraps of that awful purple tunic he always wore down that hole."
Farthing crouched down and began poking his way into the worm burrow...
|When hoping to distract a barrow worm, |
always remember to bring your sheep