the Rune of Miasma

In the twilight, Shellah stumbled across the moor to return to the others at the long barrow on the other side of Mundy Head. Their torches bobbed at the base of the mound. They clearly had not found their way inside of it yet. She took a deep breath and a moment to rub her sore knee. It might be a long night out in the barrows.

“Any luck?” she called out as she approached, careful not to step in any of the skeletal remains which ringed the mound.

“Not yet,” said Jonas, shaking his head. “Where’s the hogboon?”

“I gave it a new home. It shouldn’t bother us, though it did confirm this mound’s curse still stands,” she said as she watched Lloel and Nessah scrutinize the sides of the barrow. “You might have to dig your way in?”

“You didn’t dispel it?” asked Lloel.

“No. Shielings mothers depend on that hogboon to dissuade their kids from stealing their parents’ boats and not being as foolish as ourselves. Besides, Lloel, the hogboon is a proud part of our heritage!”

“Did it say if there were any others?” asked Jonas as he peered out onto the moor, looking for horned heads in the darkness.

“No, it said it’s the last. I imagine they were dispelled as their old stones eroded?”

“Oh! Oh! That’s it!” exclaimed Lloel. “Nessah, the entrance should be over here!” They followed Lloel to the narrow eastern end of the mound. Shellah took Lloel’s torch as he hefted the shovel and scraped some dirt and moss away from a spot just over his head, exposing a long horizontal stone after a few moments of work. The torchlight caught some marks upon it- the artwork of the Old People. “This is it, the lintel! Of course in the row of menhirs above- the closest one to here was the hogboon’s stone.”

Lloel held out the shovel to Jonas, who shook his head and stepped back. “How about Shel and I hold the torches while you two desecrate the grave?”

Shellah found a rock nearby to sit on. “Yeah, looting is specifically cited on the Guild contract as something we won’t do.”

“Give me that,” Nessah grabbed the shovel from Lloel’s hands. “Let’s get this done.” With a strength belying her petite size, she stabbed the spade into the side of the mound, and yanked out a big clod of grass below the lintel. Lloel joined her, pulling dirt and sod out with his hands. Before long they exposed a hole into the mound. A foul stink of decay seeped out.

“Let’s give this a moment to air out,” Lloel suggested as they all backed away.

“Lloel and Nessah, anything useful for you on the Larin stones? Any clues on what you might find in there?” Shellah asked.

Lloel wiped his hands on his cloak, then readjusted the knit tam on his head. “There are twelve stones with Larin inscriptions. I think they must have repurposed existing stones either already on the mound or pulled them off another barrow. They look like spells to seal this mound and further bind the hogboon to it.”

Nessah bent over the shovel for a moment, exhausted. “Each stone bore an inscription related to each rune, so this is definitely the correct site. Twelve stones, twelve runes. I think there’s a reason why this one is the first in the riddle. Its ‘shroud’ might also help conceal the others? Craddoch and his disciples put a lot of power and care into this enchantment.”

“At the cost of all their lives, looks like,” said Jonas, pointing to a skull nearby in the brush. “Unless the hogboon did that.”

“Likely a mass suicide,” said Nessah. “Once they sealed Craddoch inside, they would each take a position around the mound and slit their own throats so their blood could strengthen the spell.”

“You’re sure you want this thing?” asked Jonas. “And you’re sure you can get it out?”

“Yes.” Nessah stood straight up and took the shovel. “I’m going in.” Lloel followed her back to the hole.

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Jonas looked over at Shellah. “Are you going in there?”

“No.” Shellah thought about the curse. “And you shouldn’t either. This is a wizard problem now. If they need us they’ll call for us.” She heard Lloel and Nessah shoveling more dirt from their hole, and someone grumbled for more light. She sighed, stricken by a small twinge of professionalism. Jonas had five grandkids to go back home to. “How about I help them as you keep watch out here?”

“Sounds good.”

Shellah returned to the barrow entry and took a torch from Lloel. The place still smelled foul, and she imagined she saw a virid glow from within. Soon, Nessah and Lloel had cleared a portal large enough for a person to enter. As Nessah started to scramble into the hole Shellah pulled her back.

“How about we throw a torch in there first, just to see if there’s anything dangerous lurking,” Shellah suggested.

“Fine,” Nessah huffed. “Just don’t set anything on fire.”

After covering her face with her cloak to shield against the stench, Shellah warily extended a torch into the hole. She got a brief glimpse of aged bones scattered everywhere and some broken pottery but nothing moved, at least at that end of the long barrow. She threw the torch in and lit another. “Looks alright from here. I can’t see the far side, though. Be careful where you step.” She backed away to let Nessah crawl in. Once Nessah was inside, Shellah handed her a torch, then took Lloel’s so he could follow. “Jonas, if anything happens or you don’t hear anything after a while, you know where the boat is.”

“Great. Good luck with that,” she heard from around the side.

With her sore knee, getting through the hole was more of a struggle than she would have liked to admit, but Lloel and Nessah had already moved deeper into the mound. She picked her torch off the ground to follow. Bits of broken bone were all over the floor, as were busted votive crocks. Whoever had repurposed this barrow had not respected its former inhabitants. The torchlight had an eerie greenish halo about it. Shellah hoped Nessah knew what she was doing.

“Come, it’s down here!” Nessah’s voice echoed from the far side of the barrow. Shellah approached warily, then gasped in the putrid air, coughing in surprise. Someone had constructed a bier from the long bones taken from the crypt niches. A faded, crumbling Craddoch plaid was draped across its top. As Nessah carefully drew the fabric back, it disintegrated into dusty fibers. Shellah redoubled her cloak fabric about her face in protection.

There lay the mostly decayed remains of what was presumably Miall Craddoch, shrouded by a jaundiced pall, his skeletal hands clasped across his chest, a translucent jade jewel nested within. Nessah motioned for them to remain quiet. She opened her belt pouch and removed a small sack. From it she drew out a rune-marked polished stone. Lloel raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Nessah placed the stone at the foot of the bier, whispered something Shellah couldn’t make out, and then repeated the process, placing another eleven stones about the perimeter.

Nessah then pulled out her amasser, and pointed its metal end toward the first of her runestones. “Spirit of Ranudar, I call on you to release this of your runes into my care. By this locus I make it so.” Her stone started to glow. She went to stand by her next stone. She repeated, “Spirit of Ranudar, I call on you to release this of your runes into my care. By this locus I make it so.” A bright beam of white light extended from the second stone to the first. As she cast her spell from stone to stone, she drew a bright web of light which crisscrossed Craddoch’s corpse. Nessah was visibly starting to tire as she approached her twelfth stone. “Spirit of Ranudar, I call on you to release this of your runes into my care. By this locus I make it so. And by this focus, I break the previous spell which locks it here.” The web of light grew so blinding Shellah had to turn away. A loud bang blew through the cavern, knocking them down to the floor and showering them with bits of bone. “I got it!” exclaimed Nessah, weakly.

“Everything alright there?” Shellah heard Jonas shout from outside.

“Yes,” Shellah replied. “We’re coming out.” She dusted herself off, and then helped a stunned Lloel to his feet. She pulled Nessah up, who then quickly collected her little stones from the debris of the bone bier. The inside of the barrow looked cleaner, somehow, and their torches burned more brightly. The stench dissipated. Then Shellah heard some little rocks start to fall, and saw some dirt trickle from above their heads. “Come on, folks, quickly. We need to get out before this ceiling collapses on us.” She pushed Lloel and Nessah forward towards their entry hole. “We don’t need anything else from here, right?”

“Right, we’re done,” Nessah confirmed. Shellah silently prayed to Finnah for a safe escape from the old tomb. She gave Lloel a push to get him through the hole, then Nessah scrambled through. Shellah dropped the last torch then hauled herself out. As she rolled to the ground outside, she heard an enormous crack as the far end of the barrow collapsed in on itself, the tall stones above tumbling into the pit, until only one stone remained, the old one above the entrance which had hosted the hogboon’s symbol. The skies cleared. Stars winked above.

“Let’s get out of here, and make camp,” suggested Jonas as he helped Shellah to her feet. Someone’s stomach audibly grumbled.

“Oh yeah, there’s some food back there in that bag!” said Shellah. Torches in hand, they started the long slow trek through the bogland in the night. As they passed the other mounds, they heard the long low song of an aurochs echo across the moor.