There is nothing tricky about the dancing skeleton room.
Nor is there anything deadly.
Nor even is there anything dangerous.
No map has been provided, because the room is both extremely plain, and extremely variable. It may be any shape or size, and have any number of doors. Its features may be entirely plain, or if you wish, the room may have wooden floors and mirrors on all of the walls. The only important element of the room is that it be large enough to support a large number of medium creatures. I’ve used 50-100, though larger or smaller groups may also work.
Upon opening the door to the room, the players are greeted with a truly bizarre sight. Droves of skeletons are dancing in unison. Graceful, energetic, wild dancing, with occasional maneuvers which could never be performed by a body with muscles and ligaments. One style of dance flows seamlessly into another, and no dance ever repeats.
The skeletons will ignore the players unless the players interact with them. If the players dance with the skeletons, the skeletons will gather around them and emulate the player’s movements. If the player sings, the skeletons will try to sing backup–though their voices are a high pitched screeching which can’t enunciate words very well at all. The skeletons will be intrigued by anything which involves new and exciting ways to dance. And that is all they care about. If the players propose a dance competition, the skeletons will gleefully participate. But the winner will quickly grow bored of their prize once they run out of ways to dance with it.
If at any point the skeletons do have reason to perform an action, they will dance while they do it. Even tied up, a skeleton will find a way to rhythmically wiggle in their bonds. The only time the skeletons will stop dancing is if the players deal damage to one of their number. In this event, the skeletons will wail and cry in their high pitched screeching. They will flee from the players, and cower in the corner as far from their attackers as they can. Once they have been attacked, they will not dance again. If the player returns to this room after some time has passed, she will find the skeletons standing nearly motionless, shifting sadly from one foot to the other.
There’s a boat in this room. A big-ass wooden sailing ship resting on the floor of the dungeon.
What the actual fuck?
The walls and ceiling of the room are a massive aquarium filled with sea life, from the green & leafy kind, to the toothy and bitey kind. It is not immediately apparent, but players who observe closely will be able to make out passages in this aquarium which lead out and away–presumably to the sea. The glass walls are not reinforced with magic, but rather, with remarkable feats of structural engineering. So while the glass is quite tough and won’t be shattered with a single blow from a hammer, it’s still possible to break it using mundane means. If that occurs, this room, and likely the entire dungeon, will flood.
The only horizontal entrance to this room opens onto a small 10x10ft alcove in the wall. If players step to the edge, they will see that the actual floor of the room is roughly 15 feet below where they are now. A wooden bridge long enough to reach the deck of the ship hangs from a crane on the ceiling. Unfortunately, it’s currently about 20ft higher than the surface of the entrance platform, and the lowering mechanism can be plainly seen on the deck of the ship, near the wheel.
The floor of the room has been painted blue, and is covered in dozens upon dozens of slits which run parallel to the ship. From these slits, massive 5ft diameter saw blades rise and fall in a rolling pattern, with each blade rising from its slit only after the one before it in line has reached its apex and begun to recede. This creates the image of a rolling sea of steel blades. By studying the pattern of movement, a player could easily run across the floor safely. However, at best they’d only have one chance to climb up the sheer 15ft side of the wooden boat before they were reduced to bloody chunks by the sea of steel.
The ship itself does not appear unusual in any way, save for its location here in the dungeon. There is a wheel for steering, a deck, masts with sails which are currently tied. The floor of the room has a “pocket” in it, shaped particularly so as to keep the ship upright. I have refrained from populating the ship, as there are simply too many interesting possibilities. I personally like the idea that someone wealthy and powerful created this room simply to use the ship itself as an office or dining hall, with kitchens and stores below decks. It might also serve as an excellent treasure chamber, or prison. I leave the specifics up to you.
One thing I will note is that while the entrance is the only horizontal way into or out of the room, there are two vertical exits. One is a trapdoor on the ceiling just above the main mast. It can be seen easily by anyone who looks up, as it stands in contrast to the aquarium. The other is a trapdoor in the bowels of the ship which leads to a room further down. This trap door is not secret, but it is concealed by barrels full of grog.
Note: This room is near the entrance of Castle Nalew, a central adventuring location in my monthly ToKiMo campaign. While the players have been through this room, they have not yet discovered all of its secrets. I would advise not reading this post if you play in that campaign.
Note 2: One of this room’s features was re-used in the The Midas Chest room. I prefer not to post a room with the same element twice, but here it is not central to the room’s challenge.
The room is massive, with a high arched ceiling and numerous steel doors around its edge. It is heavily dilapidated, with weeds growing through the cracks on the floor, bits of rubble on the ground, and even a few small holes in the ceiling where dirt, light, or rain can filter through. In the room’s center is a shallow pool of water. At one time this was obviously a rather elegant water feature, but now the water is stagnant and fills the room with a putrid stench. Characters will not be able to see the bottom simply by looking in, but the water is in fact only about 1ft deep.
The western wall is almost entirely dominated by a massively wide archway, around which is carved an elaborate depiction of a spiritual battle. An army of celestials charge from the northern end of the arch, while an army of devils charge from the southern end. The armies rise up the wall, and across the arch, meeting in the middle with brutally gory results depicted masterfully in stone. If characters choose to investigate the artwork on this arch more thoroughly, they may notice that there is a small demon, far from the front ranks, depicted as dying. Closer examination of this demon will reveal that the gash from which he is bleeding is in fact an actual slit in the stone wall, just large enough to fit the tip of a dagger into. Doing so will open a secret door within the room. (On the map above it is placed between the throne and the lion statue, but it might be placed anywhere.)
Directly above the archway is a stylized stone scroll, upon which has been carved the following words:
“Atop the world I stand, beneath the world I will lie. Home will always find me.”
In the east of the room is a large brass half-sphere, the apex of which rises to about 5ft off of the ground. It has been expertly crafted to demonstrate the continents, oceans, and even rivers and forests, of the known world. Fused to the top of the world is a heavy chair, also of brass. The chair has been cracked and several pieces of it hang askew, but despite being mangled, it appears to be intact. There are no chunks of brass on the ground, and it seems as though some bending would get the chair back in shape–though it is not so broken that it cannot be sat in without fixing it. Under the edge of the chair is a switch. If toggled, this will release 3 of the chair’s legs from their mounting on the half-sphere, allowing the chair to swivel around on the rotating fourth leg. This will reveal a small alcove, within which is a platinum facemask with three pieces of obsidian mounted under each eye. The pieces has no lips or mouth, and is worth 2,000gp as an art piece.
Elsewhere in the dungeon/castle/world, the players may learn that this are was built by an ancient king named Barj Volik, who was born far away on Stonespear Isle. These islands are well known, and can be found on any sufficiently detailed map of the world. If the players examine the brass world-sphere, searching for Stonespear Isle, they will find it easily enough. If the island is pressed, then seams will appear in several of the world’s larger rivers, and the brass will slide away, revealing a staircase into the tomb of Barj Folik.
Finally, there are four strange statues in this room. They are made to vaguely resemble a bear, a bull, a lion, and a gorilla. However, rather than depicting these creatures as they would appear in the wild, these steel statues instead depict what those creatures would look like if they were outfitted in full-plate armor. If any character sits in the throne atop the world, these four creatures will become animated. The sitting player may then attempt a save versus magic (or will save DC 25). If they succeed, then the creatures will obey them for 1d6+1 days. (after which another save must be made). If the save is failed, the statues will attack immediately and without mercy.
There is only one way in or out of this room, which is largely empty. The walls splay outward, causing the room to widen further from the entrance. The back wall of the room is a gentle curve, upon which has been painted a detailed mural which has become chipped and faded with age, but not so much as to make the its subjects unclear.
The mural depicts a large army of of hardened warriors stretching halfway to the horizon. The figure’s shadows are long, indicating that the scene is either early morning, or late evening. Rather than doing battle or raising their voices in a cry of war, the fighters are depicted as bloody and beaten. Some even lie dead on the ground amongst their fellows. Their faces are forlorn, and every one of them faces out of the painting, with eyes downcast. Several standards blowing in the wind depict a black cloven hoof wrapped in green thorns, on a red field.
In front of the mural is a kneeling statue of a man who appears similar to the warriors behind him. Like his bretheren, his eyes are downcast. With both hands he grips the blade of a sword with the hilt held out in a deferential gesture. The statue has clearly been painted to match the mural, but like the mural much of the paint has been chipped away. In addition, the statue appears to have been brutalized. Chips and slices cover its surface. It appears as though someone brutally attacked the statue with a sword or axe. Closer inspection will reveal that some of these cuts have undisturbed red paint in them, indicating that these marks are intentional.
The nature of the sword being offered is up to the individual GM. For my use, it is a magical artifact sword of great power. If that were not to your liking, however, it can merely be a sword of great artistic and historical value. Regardless of the sword’s exact nature, though, it is a marvelous and tantalizing treasure to behold. The blade is of unblemished mithril. The crossguard is styled to resemble a lion, and the hilt itself is carved with depictions of 6 spearmen thrusting their weapons up into the lion’s belly. These carvings are heavily stylized, and beautiful in their simplicity.
However, the sword will not budge from the statue’s hands. What’s worse, powerful magics ward the statue against being smashed. The magic which holds the blade in place is also powerful, and cannot be affected by spells designed to loosen or release an object. Furthermore, these wards cannot be dispelled, though they might be overcome by a wish or similarly powerful effect.
The key to this puzzle is knowledge of a battle which occurred 300 years ago. Any characters with knowledge of warfare, history, or nobility will have heard of it. A sage will be able to offer information about it if they are given some relevant information about the scene depicted. Additionally, a room not far from this one in the dungeon should contain a history book detailing the battle and its aftermath.
It was called The Battle of Braeon Ridge. The combatants where the House of Krephis (or noble house relevant to your world), and the unstoppable armies of Fulnaf Thornfoot. It was a monstrous battle which lasted days and killed thousands. At its end, Fulnaf Thornfoot was killed, leaving his father to surrender to the conquering Krephis. Famously, while Fulnaf’s father offered the conquering leader his son’s sword, the patriarch of House Krephis (who had lost his own son in the battle) reached down from his horse and buried a dagger in the back of the old man’s neck. House Krephis rose from being only a minor noble house to being one of the more powerful families that existed at the time.
If the players take a dagger and begin pressing it against the areas where the stone has been cut on the back of the statue’s neck, they will discover that one of these slices was illusory. It in fact hid a large slot, which the dagger fits into nicely. Once the dagger is planted in the back of the statue’s neck, the sword will slide freely from his hands.
Note that the illusion covering the dagger slot is not warded as the statue’s other protective magics are. It can be discovered, and dispelled, by normal means.
This natural chamber contains several wide, shallow pits. Perhaps 1ft deep and between 6 and 15ft across. Each pit holds several eggs of brilliant, sparkling gold. Each egg has a beautiful swirling pattern, and some even have speckles which appear to be tiny pearls. The beauty of these artifacts is all the more profound because they do not appear to be a work of craft, but a work of nature. The intricate details of each entirely unique egg could be studied for hours.
The empty space in each pit is filled with a dark, foul-smelling mash of organic material. This is packed around the eggs, holding them upright. No egg is closer than 1ft from any edge of the pit, or any other egg in the pit. It is a simple matter to identify the mash as the rotting meat of dead creature. Anyone with basic knowledge of nature will be able to deduce that this was probably done to insulate the eggs before they hatch, and provide food for whatever young emerge from them after. A close, detailed inspection of the mash will reveal that while most of it is of unrecognizable origin, there are several distinct humanoid parts included in the mash, such as fingers.
Also within this room are several small alcoves. The entrances to these alcoves are placed above eye level, between 7 and 10 feet off the ground. They are small, and well hidden amongst the natural flow of the stone walls. They will not be noticed unless the players specifically declare that they are looking at higher areas of the cavern wall with their torches. Simply walking the perimeter of the room would be insufficient.
Within these alcoves rest the parents of the eggs. Between 3 and 8 of them. The specific manner of this creature is left to GM discretion, as this is not a Merciless Monsters post. However, for my purposes, I chose a special breed of giant spider with the following attributes in addition to the basic ones:
Spins web which is razor sharp, rather than sticky. It prefers to consume chunks of bleeding meat, rather than drain its victim’s innards.
Mandibles which become superheated and can easily smelt metal or stone. This is both how it escapes from a golden egg in its youth, and how it creates this specific environment from sheer stone when it is time to mate.
Preys particularly on humanoid species.
Evolved eggs which avaricious humans would find too tempting not to try and steal.
Whatever creature is used, some sign of its presence should exist. Perhaps tangled strands of razorweb bunched up at the door, which a perceptive player might notice glinting in the torchlight.
While characters are distracted by the eggs, the creatures will move in to kill them. In the example of the razorweb spiders, they will spin a web across the cavern’s only exit, causing anyone who leaves to fall into bloody chunks. If the players set a watch while examining the eggs, that watch should notice the spider’s efforts and alert the rest of the party. Unless this or other precautions are taken, however, it is likely that at least one player will die here. Bear that in mind before making use of this room.
The room is simple, largely conforming to the architectural style and level of dilapidation of the surrounding rooms. It is good if this room can be placed adjacent to a dining hall or kitchen, as when the dungeon was active, this room produced a drink which (for some reason) was favored by the lord or lady of the place.
It is dominated by a large pit in the floor, 5ft deep, filled with a swirling, bubbling, steaming liquid of a faintly brown color. On the wall of the room is a large rack covered in pegs, and from many of the pegs hang wooden mugs with a copper inlay. The mugs themselves are essentially worthless, being worth ~3cp each, for a total of 20-60 cups in all. The liquid in the floor both smells, and tastes, like a mild tea. If any one drinks it, they are affected by one of the following, determined by rolling 1d12. All effects are permanent, unless noted otherwise.
The liquid is poisonous to your body. Roll a save v. poison, or a fortitude save DC 15. Failure causes death.
A -1 to a random ability score. Use 1d6 to determine.
Spend 10 minutes vomiting and shaking violently.
Burn the roof of your mouth really, really badly.
Antlers sprout from your head.
Tiny, inefficient wings sprout from your back. They might be of *some* use keeping cool or jumping an extra 3-4 inches, but that’s about it.
Skin turns orange.
Feel pretty good about yourself for the rest of the day.
A scorpion stinger grows in your mouth. It is not harmful to you, nor does it interfere with normal tasks. It can be used to sting anything you put your mouth on, delivering a poison which deals 1d6 CON damage per turn, for 3 turns.
+20 to your strength for 1 hour.
A +1 to a random ability score. Use 1d6 to determine.
+1 level.
Players may continue to drink from the pit as many times as they like. Effects will stack with each other, and any effect rolled twice for the same character should be properly “enhanced” according to GM discretion. However, once a character has rolled a 9 or higher, their body will have adapted to the effects of the brew. From then on, regardless of the mixture they create (see below), or what they roll, no magical effect will occur. The drink is still quite tasty, though. They’ll find they enjoy it even more than before.
Adjacent to this room is a room filled with barrels. These barrels each contain a mixture which, when combined with the tea-water in the previous room, will slightly alter the random roll. If a barrel is completely dumped into the tea-water pit, then the additive will become inert after 10 minutes. If any two of these are mixed together, then their numerical bonuses or penalties will average. Orange spiral overrides anything it is mixed with. If any of these are consumed without being combined with the tea water, it tastes so awful the players will reflexively spit it out. Forced consumption causes death.
The symbols on the barrels, and their effects, are:
Blue Square. Smells like meat-juice. -4 to the random roll.
Purple Triangle. Smells like a bowl of raw egg. -2 to the random roll.
Red circle. Smells like beets. +2 to the random roll.
Black “X.” Smells like coffee. +4 to the random roll.
Orange Spiral. Smells almost sickeningly sweet. The random roll is replaced by a 1d6 roll to determine the player’s skin color: 1. Bright Red, 2. Blue, 3. Green, 4. Purple, 5. Orange, 6. Transparent. This effect functions even after the player has become immune to the tea-water’s other effects.
The above room appears in the megadungeon my players are currently exploring, Castle Nalew. They discovered it yesterday, and I think we probably spent an hour or more there. They tried every concoction they could think of, and much of the above information is stuff I had to improvise when they asked questions I wasn’t prepared for. Other information I had to improvise was: what happens when you become transparent twice, and what happens when you feed the liquid to a green ooze?
I could write a rather lengthy post about how much fun we had with this, but much of it would probably come across as “you had to be there” humor. However there is one story which is so impossibly perfect, I could not resist sharing it.
The very first character to dare drinking from the tea was the party’s monk. He rolled a seven, meaning his skin turned orange. Later, when they discovered the barrels in the next room, the monk was the first to try the orange spiral concoction, rolled a 5, making him orange a second time. I said that while he had been “Trump Orange,” he was now a wholly inhuman neon orange. After popping around to a few different colors, he again hit orange twice in a row, causing him to actually begin to glow orange with the strength of several candles.
The character’s name?
“Karrot.”
Sometimes the dice are the best comedians at the table.
The floor of this room was apparently a single, smooth concrete surface at one time. Time has apparently not been kind to it, however, as a spiderwebbing network of cracks now cover the floor. Aside from any exits, the only notable feature of the room is a statue of a woman in the center. If the players are positioned such that they can see the statue’s face, each character will recognize it as a statue of their own mother. Any character who never knew their mother will see merely a blank face on the statue. Powerful illusory magic emanates from the statue.
Note that while describing the room, the GM should specify that the cracks are “spiderwebbing” in the manner written above. The GM should attempt to say this merely as part of the description, and only if the players choose to examine the cracks more closely should they be told that the pattern of the cracks does indeed vaguely resemble a spiderweb.
If a player specifies that their character will avoid stepping on the cracks, this can be accomplished easily; though the character’s speed will be reduced by half due to their caution. If a character declares they will move through the room without specifying that they would like to avoid the cracks, roll a 6 sided die. If the die lands on 1-4, then the character has stepped on one of the cracks and their foot immediately becomes stuck. If they are wearing light shoes or no shoes, they will also feel that their foot is not only ‘stuck’ on the bottom, but in fact being held by something wrapped so tightly around their foot that they cannot move it from the floor.
When a player becomes stuck, two things will happen immediately. First, that player will see the statue of their mother crack in half just above the waist, and the top half will fall to the floor. Other players will not see the statue crack, however, they will see a duplicate of the statue’s top half (bearing the face of the relevant player’s mother) separate itself from the actual statue, and fall to the floor. The standing statue other players see will continue to bear their own mother’s face.
Second, thousands of tiny green spiders erupt from the cracks all over the room. They will immediately descend on the trapped character, crawling all over them, and wrapping tiny green webs around their victim’s body in an attempt to cocoon the trapped character. The spiders are so numerous that no mundane attempt to stop them (such as stomping them or brushing them away) will be effective. More dramatic means (such as a wind blast or fireball) will work. It takes approximately 1 turn (10 minutes) for the spiders to entirely cocoon their prey.
If at any point the players cast See Invisibility, or use a spell which has a similar effect, they will be able to see a strange green sludge in the cracks. It gesticulates independently of outside forces, and is piled up around the foot of any player who is trapped. It is clearly a living ooze of some type. If they are able to see this ooze, the players will also notice that the spiders are apparently made of the same substance, and freely separate and merge with it. Once a player is completely wrapped in the cocoon, the sludge will drag them to the ground, and begin to pile itself over the player. A player in this condition will be given room to breathe as the beast prefers live prey, but will be devoured within 3 turns time.
The ooze creature is impervious to most mundane forms of attack, however it is vulnerable to fire, ice, electricity, and salt. Any of these in sufficient quantity will kill the creature, but only a small amount (such as the fire from a torch, the cold from an ice cube, or a small amount of salt for food flavoring) should be enough to free a trapped character.
This is a simple room, but one which kept my own players puzzled for some time.
At the end of the hallway, the players pass through a simple opening into a circular room. The room has a stone floor, and walls of bronze which gently curve inward at the ceiling, rising to a point in the center. The walls may be engraved or otherwise adorned, but the room itself is empty. If the players decide that this is merely a dead end, it is important that they be able to go back through the dungeon and take an alternative route.
If the players choose to tap the walls, they will find most of them to be solid. However, there are definite hollow areas which echo when tapped. Closely examining the floor where the ceiling meets the wall will reveal that the bronze walls are fitted into a groove in the floor which extends all the way around the room. This groove is most obvious where the players entered the room. However, given the generally poor condition of the floor, characters will not notice this groove unless they pay special attention to that doorway.
In fact, the bronze cone has special ball bearings beneath it, and can be turned freely. It is heavy, But a concerted effort from a strong character, or two characters with strength 10+, is sufficient to slowly turn the room at a speed of 1/4 rotation per game turn (10 minutes). More characters working together will be able to turn the walls proportionally faster. As the wall turns, the opening moves, revealing previously hidden passages behind the bronze wall.
The danger, of course, is that by turning the cone the players are cutting off their means of escape back through the dungeon. Unless they have enough people to turn the bronze cone very quickly, they will be forced to face any dangers they reveal.
The chamber is arranged as a royal dining hall. The head table is atop a platform 3 steps higher than the rest of the room. The two lower tables are perpendicular to it on either side. The three tables form a squared “U” shape, with the opening towards the room’s entrance. Each table has several finely crafted seats along the outside edge, and while the surfaces of the tables themselves are empty, they are skillfully engraved with images of food. All of the furnishings in the room are finely crafted, and made of a heavy wood. The side walls may hold paintings or tapestries. The three northern walls of the room are covered in a large mural of a forest, with a clearing in the center overlooking the rising sun.
There are three large chandeliers in the room, one hanging over the center of each of the three tables. None of these are lit, but they still have oil in them and could be lit if the characters so choose. Each chandelier is a series of golden circlets, the largest of which has a diameter of nearly 12ft. Each subsequent circlet is a little smaller, and placed a little higher. The effect is a large, stepped cone, covered in small lanterns.
(If the characters seek to take these golden circlets as treasure, they will be disappointed to find that they are in fact gold-plated iron. Very heavy, and only somewhat valuable).
At the king’s seat (center of the high table) there is no chair. Instead there is a throne of stone, with a king of stone upon it. He wears fine robes, with a long but sharply cropped beard, and an intent gaze. A cursory inspection will reveal an oddity about the way his head is carved; there is an indented circlet about it, as though something is meant to be mounted there. In his lap, the king holds a stone scroll engraved with the words:
“In my time there were pretenders to my crown. Each tried to have me slain, and for that crime lived a long life in darkness. For each I had a crown made of finest gold and gems, to wear upon their head in solitude. “Now that all of us have long past, I will grant these fool’s crowns to any who place my own atop my head.”
Behind the stone king is a chest-high stone table, upon which rests five crowns. Each is unique, and each is an example of craftsmanship no modern smith could match. However, if any of these crowns is taken beyond the room’s entry arch while the stone king is not wearing his crown, then they will crumble into ashes. And unfortunately, none of these five crowns will fit snugly on the statue’s head. All are either too large, or too small.
If the players somehow climb up to the chandelier above the statue’s head, they might discover that the smallest of the statue’s rings is slightly different. Closer inspection will reveal that it is, in fact, a very simple crown. A golden circlet with rising and falling ridges around its edge, a thin velvet lining, and a single diamond mounted in the center. This is the king’s crown, and if placed upon his head, will rest perfectly on the indented ring. There is no click, or flash of light, or sound to let the characters know that the crown is correct. However, if they now choose to take any of the other five crowns out of the room, it can be done successfully without them turning to ash.
If the players at any point attempt to remove the king’s crown from the room, they will be turned to stone upon passing beneath the archway. The crown will then fall from their hands, and roll, wobbling, back into the dining hall.
The walls of this rather large room are painted a bright shade of green, with zig-zagging purple stripes running horizontally around it. It’s apparent that this room appeared festive, once upon a time. But in the eons since then, the paint has chipped and the wall’s many stones have eroded and shifted enough that the pattern is more haunting than happy.
On the north wall there is a massive iron door with no handle or hinges. Every edge of the 10ft high, 7ft wide door is covered by the walls, and floor. Embossed on the door are two daggers, one pointing up and one pointing down. At the tip of each dagger is a line which curves away from the blade. This door is sealed with powerful, ancient magic, and will resist any attempt to open it. Even through the use of a knock spell.
In the center of the room is a small square platform 3 steps off the ground. Atop the platform is a large, ornate archway. It is engraved on both sides with a detailed depiction of a battle between humans and demons. Each army starts at the floor, and is depicted marching up the sides of the archway, until they meet. The humans seem to be winning, as they have pushed the demons back from the center of the arch. Aside from this ornate carving, the archway appears to be a simple structure of stone with no magical properties, or any purpose beyond simple decoration.
Despite this, any who walk through the arch will find themselves magically transported to a different, though obviously similar, room. This room apparently has no doors whatsoever, and the archway is in a recess 3 steps below the rest of the floor, rather than on a platform above it. This room is also in much better repair, with bright red walls, and evenly spaced spots of purple. Observant players may also notice that while the carvings on the archway are very similar in this room, there is a notable difference. On this version of the arch, the demons are winning by a significant margin, and have pushed the humans far down the side of the arch.
For ease of reference, I will refer to the room the players enter initially as Room A, and the room they travel to through the arch as Room B.
Moving back and forth between the two versions of the room has no ill effect. However, it is not possible to simply stick one’s head or arm through the portal. Once any part of a person or object moves under the arch, it is quickly drawn to the other side by an irresistible force.
If the arch is examined carefully, players may notice two subtly placed slits in the carving. One on each “side” of the arch. In Room A, the slit is on the leading demon, while in Room B, the slit is on the leading human. These small spaces are perfectly sized for the blade of a dagger or sword. When a blade, or similar pieces of metal, is placed in the demon slot, the secret door slides open. If the same is done with the human slot, the large iron door slides down into the floor. Note that if these weapons are removed, the doors will close again.
Within each of the hidden areas is a large, closed chest. If opened, the chest in Room A contains 500gp worth of golden vegetables. Lettuce, potatoes, carrots, and rutabagas. If they are pieces of artwork, then they are highly detailed and extremely true to life. They even have golden dirt on them. The chest in Room B is, apparently, empty. In truth, however, the two chests are magically linked.
Whenever something is placed within the chest in Room B, and both chests are closed, those objects will immediately be transported to the chest in Room A. As part of this transportation, the item in the chest will undergo a magical transformation. The nature of that transformation is random, and can be rolled on the chart below. (Roll 1d12. If the players use the chest more than 5 times a day, switch to rolling 1d6). Once a transformation has been performed, it is permanent.
1. Transforms into a deadly poison gas which will be released when the chest is opened. (3d6 con, using my Simple, Deadly Poisons rules).
2. Crumbles into dust.
3. Is given a horrifying, unholy life. Potatoes will be little screaming balls of flesh, rapiers will be starving creatures wailing for food. A living creature would suffer some dreadful transformation, such as gaining a second head which is not alive, or something of that sort.
4. Transforms into a lovely perfume, which will be released when the chest is opened.
5. Transforms into a basic weapon or piece of armor (sword, mace, staff, shield, helm). It has no special properties, but will take on the appearances of whatever it originally was. A copper coin might become a copper shield with the face of someone important on it. A spear of asparagus might become a literal spear of asparagus.
6. Shrinks to 25% of its original size, and becomes silver. The transformation is crude, and could not be passed off for fine craftsmanship.
7. Transforms into a very fine painting of whatever it was, set amongst appropriate surroundings. (A pitchfork would be depicted leaning against a barn, or held angrily in the hands of an angry mob). Likely of good value as an art piece.
8. Transformed into a quiver of arrows. If these arrows strike a creature, and that creature fails their save, then they will turn into a pile of whatever the original object was. If a spider is placed in the chest, then whoever is struck by the arrows will become a pile of spiders. Note that the weight of the victim determines how big a pile they will be transformed into. So a dwarf will turn into a dwarf-sized pile of spiders, while a titan will turn into a titan-sized pile of spiders. (If a coin receives this result, titan hunting could become a very profitable venture).
9. Whatever is placed in the chest becomes a creature of roughly dog-size, with a dog’s intelligence, and a dog’s loyalty for whomever owned the object placed in the chest. This works even if the object placed in the chest was inanimate. A dagger will become a dog-sized dagger with strange metal legs and eyes.
10. The item(s) double in number. If a cat is placed in the chest, two identical cats will appear. If ten cats are placed in the chest, twenty cats will appear. Note that if the chest in Room B is more than halfway full, then the doubled amount will take up more space than the chest in Room A has. In this event, the doubled items will not be damaged or harmed in any way. However, the moment the lid of the chest is cracked open, it will fling open, and the newly doubled items will fly out as though the chest were under pressure.
11. The only thing in the chest is a small circular medallion with a perfectly realistic painting of whatever was placed inside the chest within it. Whenever this medallion is held firmly in the hand, the wielder will be able to detect the presence and direction of such an item within 100ft. If a book is used, then the wielder will be able to detect all nearby books. This detection ability does allow the wielder to differentiate between distinct objects. So if they are holding a book in one hand and the medallion in the other, they will still be able to detect a different book 60ft away on the other side of a wall.
12. Turned to gold. Retains its shape perfectly, but will likely not retain any of its original function. A golden sword will break easily, a golden crossbow simply will not work, and a golden squirrel will be dead.
