With the conspiracy in Red Larch at least partially unmasked and most of the would-be cultists rounded up and brought to justice, the party was unsure of how to proceed. They were aware of a looming threat somehow connected to this “Earth Cult” they had uncovered, but leads were slim.
The Carnival was in disarray and Feldspar himself was still missing. Secomber was accosted by the wagon drivers who had been paid off by Ilmeth Waelvur while trying to track down his wayward direwolf pup, and general confusion reigned.
The decision was therefore made to follow up on a few more leads provided by the townsfolk while the Carnivlal made repairs from the quake damage and salvaged what was salvageable. The elderly woman who owned the local poultry business had mentioned that her grand daughter, a free spirited young girl prone to wandering, had recently spotted a “ghost” near an old burial mound close to town. The girl would simply not stop talking about it, so Grandma approached the newly appointed deputies to investigate and put the child’s fears and fancies to rest.
The party set out to find the location, which was located in a heavily wooded area about a mile from town. The forest was strangely quiet in light of all of the recent events, but the group took that to be a good sign as they neared the old barrow mound.
A trail of sorts led to the tomb, with signs that travelers or perhaps Red-Larchers had recently frequented the area. The entrance, a yawning archway leading into an overgrown mound looked forbidding, but given its proximity to Red Larch, the party reasoned that any real danger must have been dealt with years ago.
With the driftglobe providing light and Onika in the lead, the party descended into the burial mound down a narrow flight of debris-strewn steps which soon gave way to a large ante chamber. No ghosts appeared, but there were signs of recent occupation of the more mundane sort: the remains of a campfire, discarded trash, and other refuse revealed that the place was inhabited sporadically.
The only feature of any real note in the antechamber was a ancient iron door set into the wall, long rusted shut, it showed signs that indicated someone or something had attempted to force it open in the past with no success.
As the others searched through the scattered refuse for anything of use or a clue to the identity of the “ghost”, Onika Zordal cracked her knuckles and put all of her massive strength to bear against the door. Straining mightily, the barbarian gave a grunt of satisfaction as the door gave way and fell to the tomb floor with an echoing crash.