Eldoliere’s Barrow, now colloquially known as Billingston Mine, lies in the shadow of the foreboding Tower of Eve, nestled in the western reaches of Endon. While labeled a "mine," the site is a misnomer; this is no place of natural riches waiting to be unearthed. Instead, it is a somber excavation—a systematic, funded grave robbery overseen by a consortium from the bustling town of Klad. What the miners unearth here are not ore or gemstones, but history and legend, carefully cataloged before being sent down the hill in weathered carts.
The site consists of three main areas: two small antechambers flanking the grand burial mound and the central barrow itself, which dominates the scene. The workers labor with an air of reluctant reverence, for they know the stories, even if they scoff at the warnings.
On Arrival to Eldoliere's Gorge
"Between the narrowing cliffs, a few sparse trees stand pale in the fog, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal fingers. The ground underfoot is churned and muddy, evidence of many feet treading the path between the gorge and the mine. Yet, despite the relentless activity, the trees remain untouched, as if spared by silent agreement. Ahead, the gorge pinches into a jagged point, the cliffs looming overhead like watchers of this grim endeavor. At the gorge’s terminus stands a shadowy doorway, yawning black and uninviting. To the left and right, smaller doorways mirror the central one, yet they seem more like forgotten whispers compared to the commanding presence of the main entrance."
All barrows' locations were chosen with great care, blessed by priests who sought omens in the stars and the earth itself. It was believed that the spirits of the honored dead could influence the land, ensuring prosperity, protection, or vengeance for their descendants.
Within the Main Barrow
The central barrow is no ordinary tomb. Here lies King Eldoliere, a ruler of the old age, laid to rest after his crushing defeat in the Battle of Risen Sun in 312 AS. Beside him, his six most loyal knights slumber in eternal readiness, their stone likenesses encircling his resting place in a formation known as the Circle. Legend speaks of their bond, so unbreakable in life that even death could not sever it.
Stepping into the barrow’s central chamber is like walking into history. The walls bear carvings of Eldoliere’s triumphs—great battles fought and alliances forged. The intricate stonework tells of a time when honor and valor defined an age.
At the far end of the chamber, the King lies upon his plinth, his visage both regal and somber. On either side of the burial chamber are two additional rooms: the treasury, filled with remnants of royal splendor, and the armory, where ancient weapons rest in silence, their purpose long forgotten.
The Tradition of Barrow-Burials
During Eldoliere’s time, the construction of grand barrows was reserved for rulers, great warriors, and those whose lives were deemed vital to the fabric of the kingdom. These barrows were more than simple tombs; they were enduring monuments, designed to preserve the memory and legacy of their occupants. Raised in sacred places, often where land and sky met in dramatic fashion, the barrows were seen as bridges between the mortal realm and the afterlife.
The interiors of these barrows were designed to reflect the life of the one entombed. Kings and queens rested in chambers adorned with murals recounting their deeds, while soldiers of renown were interred with the tools of their trade: weapons, armor, and banners from their most famous battles.
For rulers like Eldoliere, the central chamber often held treasures and artifacts, offerings meant to accompany them into the next life. The practice of surrounding leaders with the remains of their closest companions—such as knights, advisors, or even favored animals—was common, a testament to their loyalty and an assurance that they would not journey into the afterlife alone.
Rituals surrounding the burial were equally significant. Funerary processions were elaborate affairs, marked by days of mourning and celebration. The deceased’s achievements were recited by bards, who carried their legacy forward in song. Offerings were burned at the barrow’s entrance to appease the gods and ensure a safe passage into the next life. When the tomb was sealed, it was said that the living severed their ties with the dead, leaving them to rest undisturbed. However, legends warned that any disturbance of these barrows would awaken the spirits within—souls that were bound not only by loyalty but also by duty, their oaths transcending death itself.
The Curse of Eldoliere
Whispered in hushed tones, the legend of Eldoliere and his knights casts a shadow over the excavation. It is said that as they faced their final breaths, a spell was woven—a spell to bind them in eternal vigilance. Should the land fall into great peril, they will rise, unyielding, to defend it once more. Whether this is a promise of hope or a warning of dread depends on who tells the tale.
For now, Eldoliere and his knights remain undisturbed, their purpose unfulfilled. But those who dare tread these halls often glance nervously at the Circle, half-expecting the stone figures to stir, their cold eyes locking onto intruders.