The Crashed Dungeon

Game Master DarkLightHitomi

Hanging around the Silly Scalpel Outfitters, a group of folks, either brave or stupid depending on who you ask, prepares to venture into the depths of the most dangerous dungeon known.

Across the street, the old geezers make bets over who lives long enough to return frightened out of their wits, or who will not return before the next moon.

dotting so this shows up in my campaigns.

Belamros will wander over to the old geezers and inquire about whether anything is known about the early rooms of the crashed dungeon.

They looked at her appraisingly, though their judgements, if any, were not obvious. One of them responded kindly enough though, "Well, you'd have to ask one of the big merc outfits. The army goes in sometimes, but you'd be lucky to get anything from them, They don't really like you scavengers going in there. They'd blockade the thing if they were allowed. I think the Rithaskans actually do prevent it, but here, as I'm sure you know, the princesses support the private exploration, at your own risk of course."

- The princesses are the ones generally in charge of the local lands. They act as a sort of council but each has a specific area they oversee. There is a queen, but she acts mostly as a council leader without much additional power. There are princes sometimes, including three right now, but as a group they are usually just called the princesses.

- Rithaska is the nation that borders the crash on the southern side. While not overly evil, it has a very controlling government.

A tall man in gleaming breastplate walks toward the assembled conversationalists. His pace keeps in step with the towering polearm held easily in one hand. His deep brown eyes scour the group, assessing each and assigning threat levels, as if by instinct. The holy symbol etched across his chest he wears like loadstone, but his lack of swagger marks him as no paladin.

"And where would we find these big merc outfits who are so learned in that which we seek?" he asks, following up on the answer. "As the princesses DO condone the occasional exploration, the attitude of the army is well-known and just as well ignored. I do not come to be talked out of this, but if there is knowledge to be gained, I should see it and gladly."

He turns his attention to the questioning monk, his eyes weighing and measuring here with a professional's eye. "Greetings to you, Practitioner," he says by way of introduction. He holds out a callused hand, his deep voice pouring out like liquid chocolate. "I am called Galador, by the line of Imrael, on occasion known as the Angel of Conflict. And you are?"

She takes Galador's hand with a firm grip, shaking it breifly before releasing it. "Belamros Arroway. I'm just a girl out to make a bit of profit."
She appraises the man in front of her curiously. "What brings you to the crashed dungeon?"

"Don't be so quick to dismiss the army, boy. Their job is to keep you alive and they can't do that if you toss yourself in places like that. Only a few expeditions return at all, and most of them because they didn't encounter anybody inside." cried one of the geezers, then another pipes up, "The military has a rightful distaste of letting untrained idiots waltz right to their deaths like lemmings leaping off cliffs."

A third geezer who seems more amused, "The big outfits all have camps just outside town. They are not likely to speak to you though unless you bring coin. They good incentive for you to not return however, so you may want to be careful with their advice."

Belamros smiles grimly. "I hope we prove to be at least a little more capable than untrained lemmings.

Are we the group of adventurers preparing to enter the dungeon (mentioned at the beginning), or are we just watching?

Galador replies to the old man. "That is a fortunate attitude for the military to have, since I view them as unhelpful at best and downright meddling at worst. So long as they keep their cannon-fodder out of my way, that is all that I ask of them and the best way they can assist."

He turns back to the girl. "I see you hold nor pretenses of higher motives. I can respect that. No less so that 'tis a mirror of mine own. So too, there is reputation to be won as well as gold, and that coin, though harder to hold, can be no less a worthy trophy."

One geezer who not yet spoken, the eldest by the looks of him, looks at Belamros, "You need to be far more capable than that if you want to survive even your first encounter in there. I saw many very capable and very experienced warriors get overwhelmed by the first enemy we encountered. The hordes of little ones are many and smart enough to learn quickly and adapt in the midst of battle. In there even the most capable need to be wary."

Some of the other geezers shake heads at Galador, "Prideful."
"And arrogant."
"Yep. Quick death for that one."

Belamros throws a cocky grin towards Galador. "Wanna team up? I'm feeling real interested in proving these geezers wrong."

Galador pays the old men little heed. That they are old and alive means they don't know how to fight properly.
"Aye," he says to the well-toned monk. "Four eyes are better than two, two heads better than one. Let us unto the breach go."

A human woman walks over to the two adventurers. She has not spoken with them before, although they have seen her around town. She walks with a sense of comfort with herself and power. Since she is obviously almost completely unarmed, they can conclude that she is a practitioner of magic. She has obviously overheard the last few comments.

I'm Alexia, student of the arcane arts. If you are looking to build a team to prove the old xxxxx wrong, you can't leave me out!

"I say welcome to the group. Two heads are better then one, but three heads are better still. My name is Belamros - I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Do any of you even have training in healing?" asks one of the geezers, now that the lack of other companions is implied.

"Greetings to you, Alexia, student of the arcane. If you are crazy enough to join us in this venture, then you are indeed welcome.

Yes, I am as well versed in healing as I am in harming. What of it?" he then asks of the asker.

"You'll need those skills lad. If you live long enough to use them." with several of the geezers laugh, though the oldest doesn't seem to hear as he focuses on the third of your group, appraising her.

Belamros ignores the geezers.
"Well then. Shall we be off? No point delaying, I think."

Galador nods at Belamros. "Indeed. We know not how long this will take, so the sooner we start the sooner 'tis completed."

Belamros will lead the way to the dungeon entrance, I suppose.

Walking out of town you notice several walls of graffiti and even some signs, all saying things like "Goodbye!" "Good Luck, You'll need it." and "Don't forget to leave your will at the town hall."

The labrinthine ship is large enough that you can see it clearly rise above the valley floor despite it still being nearly a day's march away.

There are a few camps of both soldiers and mercs. Most ignore you., save the occasional the look of pity.

I feel lonely :)
We press on until we reach either the dungeon or a random encounter! Or a not so random encounter, I suppose.

Imrael stalks onward, next to the forlorn monk. "I've seen such graffiti before, but as often as not they are just misplaced signs from those that would see others fail rather than succeed. That such care is taken at all bolsters my spirits."

Alexia quietly follows the others.

You've luckily not seen any monsters as yet, after hours of walking, watching the massive wall slowly consume more and more of tge horizon, but dusk arrives as you find yourselves at the outer wall scrambling up a steep and rough incline of dirt, roots, and rocks. There seems to be a large door a few above the ground. It is mostly closed, just enough of a crack to potentially pry it open.

Belamros lets out a shout of joy for having finally made it to the ship and begins to run forward, then hesitates. "Should we camp here for the night, or head straight in?"

Galador shakes his head. "I've not yet tasted battle this day, so I've no desire to abed. Let us open this door and see what secrets it yet holds."

Galador goes up to the not-quite-closed door and tries to open it.

As Galador struggles with the door, it suddenly pops open and a creature bleats loudly and dashes out right out over Galador's head and runs off into the tall grass beside the trail.

Galadors looks after the creature with a stunned look on his face. "I admit, I did not expect that. Well, shall we?"

Belamros glances after the creature with a raised eyebrow. "After you - who knows what strange creatures may lurk within." she says with a grin.

Galador lights his lantern and holds it aloft. Cautiously he enters the yawning abyss.

He is followed by an equally cautious Belamros.

The first room is simple, with another closed door on the far side. The left wall on the far side is busted, allowing you to "see" the other side, save that it looks dark.

There is lots of detritus around the floor, a few dark stains on the walls, and a carved stick on the floor.

Can we kick the busted wall enough to go through it? Or are we just talking some small holes in an otherwise strong stone wall?

Belamros will wander over to examine and then pick up the carved stick.
Perception before picking up the stick: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22 I'm basically trying to make sure it's not a trap
"Check it out! Some hard-earned loot after vanquishing our first encounter!"

The stick is short and decorated with geometric designs. There doesn't appear to be anything else special about it. It may have been a wand once, but picking it up it doesn't feel magical like a fresh wand would. There also are no marks indicating activation method either.

As for the hole in the wall, the panel probably pushes back easily enough as it looks loose, and people could easily fit through it.

Galador motions to Bela. "Let us not try the door--you never know what might be on it, or lurking behind it. Let us take the unexpected route through the wall.

Congratulations or your epic loot. Surely the bards will sing of this day!"

With that he works at the wall so it's large enough for them to fit through. Once through, he lifts his lantern and looks about.

The wall easily moves, but there is no floor on the other side, as Galador discovers while scrambling to grab the wall when his foot doesn't stop going downwards when expected.

After getting his feet back under him, Galador looks out with the lantern. He can't see much, but it looks like there are support beams criss-crossing between the left and right walls.

Belamros will attempt to jump to one of the beams.
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17

"Be careful. There could be anything in there."

Belamros manages to grab the faintly spotted supports, a trio . Looking around however, she gets a sense of vast space, though the darkness eats the light save for the little bit coming from the lantern, which shows faintly a bit of wall to the left and right and the support beam. The lantern reveals a bit of the outside of the walls of the room that was entered from, but you can't see anything underneath or above it.

You can't see anything else, at least not with your current light source.

You can however just ever so slightly hear the occasional drip of water on metal far below you.

"Alright, come back here, Belamros. It appears there is nothing but danger this way. Let us try the door."

Belamros nods reluctantly, and jumps back to the main room.
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30
Belamros approaches the door and checks to see if it is locked.

The door has no locks nor traps that you can discern. Actually, it doesn't seem to have a door handle either. It is a large round flat surface that once was probably white, with three lines of unknown lettering.

Galador prods the door with the tip of his weapon. He tries to push the door open.

When you push the door, the middle of the door depresses about an inch into a concave bubble, then nothing happens for a long moment, suddenly the border depresses to match the center becoming flat again save being an inch deeper in the wall, and the whole door rolls sideways. You can see the teeth of huge gears inside the door and in the wall where it rests when closed.

Beyond the door is a short hallway about as wide as the room you are in, and the hallway hits a t-intersection, with hallways to the left and right.

War never changes. ;-)

"Fair Bela, I'm for the rule of 'always turn left.' Would that seem fair to you?

"Seems fair to me. I never did like right, anyways."

Belamros begins walking cautiously down the hallway because she has more HP than Galador does.

Galador advances behind Bela down the left-hand corridor, polearm held at the ready.

The hallway extends as far as you can see in both directions, into the horizon, though you can't see many details, but there are occasional pale green lights, some flickering or pulsing, but the spacing of them is irregular like many of them are not on at all.

There is a doorway on the right up ahead.