[Nogrod]

It was so early in the morning that it was still dark as Novgorod left the little town. He had decided to press on with the quest. Against the inn-keeper’s counsel Novgorod had decided to continue straight ahead and take a shortcut through the hilly grassland the locals called Barrow Downs. Evil spirits! Bah! Old wifes stories to keep the young from playing far away from home, lunacies of the drunkards told in hope of a one more pint...

But as Novgorod dwelt deeper to the Downs the unpleasant feeling of everything not being quite right came all the more pressing. Mostly it was the weird fog. He had noticed some faint stripes of fog in the moonlight already some time ago but hadn’t paid much attention to them. Fog was fog after all and it happend to appear here and there at times, especially early mornings. But slowly Novgorod started noticing the odd behaviour of this particular fog. As long as he was able to see any futher he had time to realise that there was no fog in any other parts of the Downs but just around him. And it was moving along with him, whirling slowly around and condensating all the time!

Then came the voice. It was a low and hoarse sound that didn’t seem to come particularly from anywhere but from everywhere around him. Like the fog itself would have produced it. It sounded almost like the voice was composed of syllables, forming words of sorts. The fog got whirling and condensing tighter around Novgorod.

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Novgorod woke up in almost complete darkness. There was some faint phosporous light on his right. As he turned his head, he saw a light radiating fog that had vaguely a form of a gigantic warrior clad in robes. Suddenly there was a flash of dimly emerging dawning light as a boulder was turned aside and the fog-monster disappeared. The rock was slammed to its place and it was pitch dark again. Now if something is, this is creepy... Novgorod knew well enough that the best way to make things worse now was to panic. So he panicked.

But after nothing happend in a few moments he managed to cool himself down enough and tried to think. Whatever that was and wherever I am, there must be a way to get out! Carefully he came down from the table made of wood and stone that he had been laid on. Slowly he started creeping towards the entrance that had just been slammed close. He used the wall as a guide. The wall was covered with a thick layer of dust.

He reached the rock that blocked his way out. Novgorod searched for a handle but managed not to find one. Okay. I’ll just push it open. Novgorod tried, then he tried with full force. The rock didn’t move an inch. Well, then what? Waiting here for that monster to come and devour me? Novgorod was wiping sweat from his forehead. There must be something here...

Novgorod decided to check the other side of the chamber too. Just beside the entrance he stumbled to his own backpack. His sword was laying beside it. Novgorod took his sack and tied his sword on him. These won’t probably be of any use but it’s nice to die with some familiar things around, Novgorod grinned to himself in the dark and continued following the wall. Soon he crashed to a smaller table. There were different arms, dull and dusty, laid over it. There were also some cups and a few pieces of gold and coins. From habit Novgorod gathered the goldpieces and the coins and put them into his sack. After a moment’s hesitation he threw two of the cups in too. One never knows, he said half-aloud to himself and smiled sarcastically.

The small chamber was fast walked around. Novgorod sat on the table he had laid earlier and got back to thinking. I will never win that kind of thing in a fight and it seemed not a kind of a guy who wants to have a discussion and turn it’s mind after some nice pleas by its captive. But it must fear or at least dislike something. The problem is that I haven’t the faintest what it could be. Merry songs perhaps? Novgorod almost bursted to laughter with the idea. He figured how it would look: himself standing on the table he was now sitting as the foggy monster would come back and by singing some merry old nursery-rhymes the wight would be trembling in terror! That was just too funny... and futile.

But then he came upon a more promising one. It took me while it still was dark outside and it went out as it was still the early morning hours and quite dim. It lives inside this chamber, well probably... possibly? So it might not like the light? The plan was worked out pretty quickly. There seemed to be no other reasonable options anyhow. If it comes back to hide away from the morning light, I have no time to lose!

He walked over the chamber to the smaller table and took the helmet from there. Then he carved some pieces of wood from the larger table and lit a small fire near the entrance, hoping that even some of the smoke would get sucked outside by the draught. Using a wrenched cup and a small dagger taken from the table he managed to adjust the helmet to stay upsidedown over the fire so that it began to heat. Then he took the Easterling’s piece of meat out from his sack and started carving the fat out from it in the light of his little fire. This is probably the best use for this piece of meat there ever is going to be! Happily I didn’t throw it away yesterday! He poured the fat into the helmet and checked that it started to melt slowly over the fire.

He tried to hear for any sounds outside the entrance but couldn’t hear any. Okay, then the showpiece! Fast Novgorod gathered the other items from the table and got to the bigger one. He assembled the armour, the shield and the sword over the table, making them lean towards the wall looking like someone standing there. After that he started frantically to rip the dust from the walls near the entrance, laying them handful after the other over the quasi-man he had built on the table. The he changed his clothes again. The silvery and golden embroideries in the Easterling robes would flash in light too. What a self-defence...

Suddenly he was feeling cold. Something was drawing nearer.

Hurry now! Happily almost all the fat had already melted. Novgorod took the helmet by covering his hands with the Easterling underwear and poured the melted fat to the cup he had put into his sack earlier. He spread some of it over the “wanna-be man” that was covered with dust and threw some to the walls behind. Then he got beside the entrance by the little fire and started stuffing the cup with dust, ready to act as soon as needed.

Then he heard the rock being heaved out from its place and saw the dawning daylight pour in. He had the underwear still in his hand. Fast he took most of the burning wood from the fire and threw them towards his display. The foggy shape of the Wight came in just as the fire bursted. The armour and the shield shined with light and the dust on the walls flared alight, the grease continuing to burn after the blinding initial flare of the dry dust. Simultaneosly Novgorod dropped the last little burning sticks to his cup filled with fat and dust. It bursted like a torch.

The Wight was confused for a moment and that was enough. Novgorod leaped out into the daylight with his homemade torch in hand. And he ran. He ran as fast his feet could carry him. He heard noises from inside the tomb. To his luck, the Wight had decided to deal with the fake one first. After it noticed the threachery Novgorod was already somewhat far away, in bright morning sunshine. The moan of the wight coming from behind him chilled him to the bone but he continued running.

Despite not noticing anyone following him, Novgorod run the whole way until he reached the end of the Barrow Downs.