A band of unusually earnest halflings have shown up and purchased a claim half way up Phish Creek. They’ve repurposed the old mine and started a frantic excavation.

What could drive these usually sedate folks to such an effort?

The villagers of Thriceborough have been asking themselves, and the halflings every time they come into town to resupply, this question many times, but nothing has come of it so far. Of course, there are rumours; money owed, a promise to keep, a ghost.

And for once, the rumours are spot on. Lillobut Quarterbottle, once a wealthy halfling due to a lucky business investment, has come afoul of the wrong players. He now owes a shady guild in the capitol a lot of money, and they have promised to take it out on his wife and kids if he can’t pay up. As if this wasn’t enough, his wife is a ghost. Three weeks ago, she died during child labor, the news that they were a hunted family probably did nothing to improve her health. Now she blatantly refuses to rest until Lillobut has paid his dues and secured a promising future for their kids.

And there we have it. The desperate halfling Mr. Quarterbottle is now digging frantically for gold or whatever riches might be in this old mine. Little does he know, that right behind one wall in his mine, an ancient tomb lies. Traps untriggered, lurking monsters undisturbed, riches unplundered. Will Quarterbottle try it himself, or will he have to hire a handful of experienced raiders to help him out?