Isadora doesn't have any formal training in biology or sciences, but perhaps she somehow managed to connect to this landscape on a profound natural level. She takes in the primordial beauty and... dread of this mostly untouched land.
"This is an ancient place," she says, and shivers.
"Let us take the trail."
Isadora has some ideas about the pile of jumbled stones...
After about 45 minutes, the heroes reach the other tunnel entrance. Sure enough, not far away, stands a rather decrepit looking shack; what must be an old maintenance building. A thin line of smoke spills from the chimney. Outside a line of pelts can be seen, drying in the weak winter sun.
As the companions reach the ground and look at the tunnel entrance, they can see the number ‘1869’ engraved over the top, with the intertwined initials ‘A’ and ‘N’. There are two wooden signs sunk into the ground, saying “DANGER” and “TUNNEL UNSAFE” in faded red letters. They have been defaced by what looks like pitting caused by small caliber bullets – obviously the result of target practice. The wind whistles eerily through the tunnel, whose secrets are carefully hidden away in the darkness of its interior.
"Yes. And I think we can be straightforward about our motifs: we came here to find a lost person. I see no need to burden ourselves with subterfuge."
"I wouldn't think he'd go out with a fire going," says Alice. "Perhaps he's nodded off, but the knocking should have woken him. Shall we peek inside?"
Suddenly there is a shout from behind the investigators. They turn and see a man approaching from the trail behind them.
“What are you folks wanting, eh?”
As he comes nearer, the companions can see that he is a middle-aged man with unkempt hair and a beard, dressed in shabby-looking overalls. He wears a misshapen cap on top of his head, and carries a double-barreled shotgun under his arm. He carries a brace of dead squirrels over his shoulder. He is very ugly, with a large nose. His mouth is drawn back in a sneer.
He stops not far from our heroes, eyeing them suspiciously.
“Can’t ye read the signs, eh? This is private property!”
He frowns in displeasure.
"I'm sorry for the intrusion," says Alice, "but we came here looking for you, presuming you're Mr. Hutchinson. We're looking for a student from Miskatonic University named Albert Baumgartner who we have reason to believe came here. We were hoping you'd seen him." She describes Albert to him.
"No, we just want to find him and bring him back to Arkham safely," says Alice. "He never returned, and we're worried about him. He shouldn't be messing around here either. Did he actually go in the tunnel?"
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