Near the coastal town of Shallowport, deep within the pine forests of Virhurst, lies a site often ignored by history books yet infamous among those who study the arcane: Sunderking's Barrow. A simple hillock, barren of trees and crowned only by scattered ruins, it offers little to the untrained eye. Yet beneath this unassuming mound winds the final hall of the eldritch lich once known as the Sunderking.

The barrow is modest in structure - a single entrance leads to a long hall, supported by timeworn stone pillars, leading to the remnants of a treasury and, beyond it, the vault where the Sunderking’s phylactery still rests. The treasure chamber has long since been looted, its riches stolen by opportunists and bandits over the centuries. But the vault remains untouched, guarded by a door that refuses to open save for those who answer its riddle: What must you give me in order to keep it? The answer, once spoken, grants access to the chasm beyond, where the Sunderking’s final guardians - a pair of skeletal naga - stand watch over his most prized possession: a white marble pedestal, atop which rests a green-glowing orb, the phylactery of the lich himself.

Though the barrow itself is quiet, there is an air of unease that lingers, a whisper in the wind that reminds travelers that this was once the seat of something terrible. The people of Shallowport do not speak of it often, though stories are sometimes told by sailors in the dark corners of taverns, always in hushed tones. Those who come seeking fortune rarely return with more than nightmares, and those who come seeking the phylactery itself return not at all.

The origins of the Sunderking’s Barrow are steeped in blood and rebellion. Centuries ago, this was the site of the slave pits from which the man who would become the Sunderking first rose to power. A nameless laborer, one of many under the brutal rule of the yuan-ti, he led an uprising that toppled his serpent overlords, gaining renown as a warrior and liberator.

When the campaign against the yuan-ti was complete, he built a hall upon the very ground where he had been imprisoned, a symbol of triumph over tyranny.

At first, the hall was a summer retreat, rarely used and mostly forgotten as the years passed. But when the Sunderking fell in battle and returned as a lich, his followers buried him there, sealing his body away within the vault below. What happened in the years that followed is uncertain - some claim he sought vengeance upon those who had betrayed him, while others say he withdrew from the world entirely, content to watch the kingdom of Endon rise and fall across the centuries. Whatever the truth, his tomb remained undisturbed for generations, a relic of a past most preferred to forget.

Despite its fearsome reputation, Sunderking’s Barrow was never meant to be a fortress. Unlike other tombs of its kind, it lacks grand architecture or intricate traps - only the door and the naga remain as true defenses. Some scholars believe this was intentional, that the Sunderking wished for his resting place to be simple, a stark contrast to the elaborate palaces of those he once fought. Others believe he simply never expected anyone to reach him. Either way, the barrow endures, an unassuming monument to one of Endon’s most enigmatic figures.

The Main Barrow

Beyond the entrance lies the long hall, a simple yet imposing structure. Pillars line the narrow chamber, holding up a ceiling so low that taller visitors must stoop as they walk. The floor is uneven, worn by time and footsteps long past. At the far end of the hall, where torchlight barely reaches, the treasury once stood, now nothing more than an empty chamber, its shelves bare and its chests broken open. The only sign of the wealth that once lay here is the occasional glint of a coin lost between the stones, too insignificant for even thieves to bother collecting.

The Main Barrow serves as both an antechamber and a warning - though it is clear that fortune-seekers have come before, none have dared to go further. The door to the vault remains sealed, its riddle inscribed in old Endish above its iron frame. Few stand before it without a sense of unease, as if the very walls are watching, waiting for the words to be spoken.

Entrance Hall. The Entrance Hall of Sunderking’s Barrow is a solemn passage, hewn from the earth with precise, almost unnatural symmetry. The low ceiling, supported by evenly spaced stone pillars, gives a sense of quiet oppression, as though the weight of history itself bears down on those who enter.

Old Treasury. Once the seat of the Sunderking’s wealth, the Old Treasury is now nothing more than an empty chamber of looted promise. The pedestals that once held crowns, gemstones, and arcane trinkets have long since been overturned, their riches scattered to thieves and warlords over the centuries.

Guard Room. Beyond the Entrance Hall lies the Guard Room, a fortified chamber meant to deter those foolish enough to delve deeper. The walls here are thick, designed to muffle sound and prevent intruders from hearing what lay beyond. The stone floor bears marks of old battles, with deep gouges and shattered remains of weapons and armor left behind from past conflicts.

Riddle Door. The final barrier between the mortal world and the phylactery’s resting place is the Riddle Door - a massive slab of black stone, seamlessly embedded into the surrounding rock. No keyhole or handle mars its surface; only a single inscription remains, glowing faintly with residual magic: ‘What must you give me in order to keep it?’ The answer - ‘my oath’ - is deceptively simple, but for centuries, adventurers and tomb robbers have struggled with its meaning.

Chasm. Beyond the Riddle Door lies the Chasm, a vast and unnatural void carved deep into the earth. The descent is sheer, with no clear path forward save for a precarious stone bridge that spans its width. Here, the Sunderking kept his final guards - two immense naga skeletons, bound by his will to eternally protect the chamber beyond.

The Resting Place. At the heart of the Barrow, past the dangers and the trials, lies the Sunderking’s phylactery. A simple white marble stone, worn smooth by the passage of time, rests upon a pedestal at the chamber’s center. Atop it sits a green orb, humming with a quiet, malevolent energy. Unlike the grandeur of his treasury or the foreboding chasm, the Resting Place is eerily modest - perhaps an acknowledgment that true power requires no embellishment.

The Temple of the Orb

The chamber beyond the riddle-door is often mistaken for a place of worship, though no priest has ever tended its altars. A single pedestal stands in the center of the room, carved from white marble and worn smooth by time. Upon it rests the green-glowing orb: the phylactery of the Sunderking. It hums faintly, the light within pulsing as though in slumber, untouched for centuries.

Despite its apparent vulnerability, the phylactery is not so easily taken. Those who attempt to seize it speak of whispers in their ears, of visions that creep into their minds; memories that are not their own. Some have fled the chamber in terror, while others have collapsed before they could even lay a hand upon it. And those who do touch the orb? They are never seen again.

The Graveless Barrow

To the east of the main hall, a second tunnel branches away, leading to a cavernous chamber filled with loose earth and scattered bones. This is the Graveless Barrow, the final resting place of the slaves who perished before the Sunderking’s rebellion. Their bodies were never buried, only left to decay in the darkness.

Sunderking’s Phylactery

The true prize of the barrow, the phylactery is both an artifact of immense power and an object of deep dread. Unlike many liches who conceal their souls in grand, elaborate vessels, the Sunderking chose simplicity: a single orb, placed in plain sight. Yet to break it is no easy feat. Many have tried, and all have failed. Weapons shatter upon striking it, spells unravel before reaching it. The orb remains, untouched by time, waiting for the one who can end its master’s reign once and for all.