Dungeon delve (for Manicorn)

[Pseudosym]

Brosh charges the circle of giggling creatures. He cuts through four of them with a great swing of his sword. As he makes contact with each of them, there is a burst of green light and a little popping sound. The little creatures vanish as abruptly as a burst balloon.

On his backswing, Brosh takes out two more. They, too, pop out of existence.

Their neighbors seem wholly unconcerned. With another gnoll-like squawk, they surge forward for another attack.

 

The creatures' numbers have been significantly reduced. They will no longer attack with advantage.

Roll: [ 15 ] + 3 = 18
Hit: 2d4 => 6

One of them springs six feet in the air and wraps itself around Brosh's head. It covers his eyes with its scaly claws, giggling into his ear.

Brosh can't see what's happening, but he hears the snap of a whip a fraction of a second before he feels the sting of the lash. A moment later, there is another, equally sharp. The crack reverberates through the cavernous chamber.

More of the creatures hurl themselves at him, securing his arms and tugging him forward into a hunched position. A whip flicks almost playfully against his protruding backside, four times in quick succession, and then he is released once again as the creatures resume their circle.

They certainly seem to be enjoying this...

 

Roll 2d4 to determine how many of the creatures Brosh can attack this round!

[Manicorn]

"Augh! Quit--Oww--doin' that!"

Brosh isn't used to this. He's a bully at heart, so he's typically the one picking on those smaller and weaker than himself. This time though they have numbers on their side and won't let up. He yelps as more and more whip-lashes crack against his round butt as he's helplessly bent over. When they finally do let up and dance away again, he takes a moment to rub his stinging cheeks.

Dammit, what kind of dungeon is this!

At least they had dispersed earlier under his blade. He figures that means the things aren't even alive. Just some kind of enchanted ass-tormentors. Brosh figures the only thing to do is keep fighting. Like hell is he going to run after all this. He goes to swing again...


(Brosh rolls a 5!)

[Pseudosym]

Another five of the horrible things are vaporized under Brosh's blade.

The handful that remain give a collective laugh, shrill and grating. Then, as though reacting to some indiscernible summons, they turn as one and skitter away. They clamber up the walls of the chamber and disappear through a series of small openings toward the top.

There are a few seconds of stillness before Brosh feels secure that he is, once more, alone.

Faintly, he can hear the mechanical sound of gears turning somewhere in the walls. It is joined by the grinding of stone on stone, and a portion of the wall to Brosh's left slides open to reveal a dark passageway. A series of torches flare to life, and Brosh can see a spiral staircase illuminated beyond the wall.

Something is approaching through the passageway. It is a tiny, spherical construct, about the size of Brosh's two fists and made of gleaming copper. It hovers a few feet above the steps as it descends amid a soft humming noise.

As it approaches, a lens on its surface slides open to reveal a dimly glowing arcane light. The light scans Brosh up and down, and Brosh feels oddly scrutinized.

"GREETINGS, THIEF."

[Manicorn]

Looks like that did it, then.

He grunts as he watches them retreat and then--only once he's sure they're not coming back--sheathes his sword. Then he takes a few seconds to rub his ass again.

"Nasty little buggers," he mutters.

At least they hadn't been as strong as his father at wielding a strap. That would've been a real nightmare. But still, he hoped that'd be the last of that sort of encounter. He turns as a nearby wall slides aside to reveal a passageway going deeper inside.

He'd almost relaxed. But when the floating sphere approaches, his hackles rise back up.

"Greetings yourself," he shoots back. "Where the hell am I, and how do I get out of here?"

[Pseudosym]

The construct's eye goes dim, and it emits a long whirring sound. Then it says, "YOU ARE IN THE MANSION." It speaks with a tinny, monotone timbre. "FLOOR: SUB-BASEMENT. ROOM: WELCOME CHAMBER. ACCESSING WELCOME MESSAGE. PLEASE WAIT..."

Another whirring sound, and then the eye glows brightly, and a different voice emits from the orb--a human voice. It is masculine and smooth, as crystal clear as though the speaker were standing right in front of Brosh.

"Welcome, intruder," says the voice. "I see you have found your way into my dungeon. This most probably means you have attempted to take that which is not yours. Of course, it could be a simple misunderstanding, in which case I hope you will accept my most sincere apologies. The road ahead will not be a comfortable one for you.

"In any case, unless you wish to live the remainder of your days being tormented by my extremely loyal minions, I suggest you come and find me. VoxOS will serve as your guide. He is quite knowledgeable about this area--although, of course, he is only a simple construct. He cannot recommend what you should do in a given situation; he can only share that which is objectively verifiable. Nevertheless, I hope his companionship will be of some small comfort during your stay. He is certainly the only element of comfort I have willingly endeavored to provide.

"Speaking of discomfort: my minions are due to return shortly. I would get a move on, if I were you."

As the message winds down, Brosh becomes aware of a skittering in the walls, and the sound of dozens of tiny, giggling voices, drawing ever close...

VoxOS, apparently unconcerned, chirps in its mechanical voice, "INCOMING: FLOGLIN SWARM. QUANTITY: TWENTY-FIVE. AVAILABLE COURSES OF ACTION: PROCEED THROUGH STAIRWELL, OR ENGAGE SWARM. RECOMMENDED COURSE OF ACTION: ...INSUFFICIENT PRIVILEGES. PLEASE CONTACT ADMINISTRATOR."

[Manicorn]

"Oh shi--"

Before the sphere thing has even finished its message Brosh is hoofing it down the corridor. No way is he going to fight more of those things unless he has to, especially as he suspects there's a never-ending supply of them. As he runs for the stairs, he looks around for something he rip down or knock over to present an obstacle to the swarm.

"So I'm supposed to find the freak who runs this place? Yeah, right!" he bites out. He turns to the sphere skimming along at his side. "Hey Boxos, or whatever your name is! Can you hold those damn things off and buy me some time? Or better yet, gimme a map to the exit!"

[Pseudosym]

"PROCEEDING THROUGH STAIRWELL," VoxOS announces as Brosh takes off running. Then, in response to the question, adds, "NEGATIVE: I AM UNABLE TO HOLD THOSE DAMN THINGS OFF. ACCESSING MAP TO EXIT: ...INSUFFICIENT PRIVILEGES. PLEASE CONTACT ADMINISTRATOR."

Brosh casts around for something to block the way. All he can find in the stairwell are the torches lining the walls. He wrenches one of these out of it socket and chucks it backward. It clanks against the stone steps and out of view as the sounds of giggling and whip-cracking grow closer.

Spiral staircases are notoriously difficult to sprint up, but Brosh is a seasoned athlete. He winds his way up to the top of the stair and through another stone door, which slides shut behind him with a reverberant DOOM.

Brosh can briefly hear the swell of yips and barks as the creatures jam up behind the door... then, mercifully, the sounds die down, and Brosh can take stock.

As soon as he enters, torches flare up to illuminate a short hallway. At the far end, Brosh can see a door. It appears to be barricaded by a set of heavy steel bars.

Along one wall are three statues. They appear to be made of stone and metal, and they depict tall humanoids, sitting or standing in various poses.

Hovering at Brosh's ear, VoxOS pipes up: "ROOM: THE CORRIDOR OF CONCESSION," and then falls silent.

[Manicorn]

"And I do not like the sound of that..." Brosh mutters. But finding himself safe for the moment--or so he believes--he takes a moment to lean back against the door and catch his breath. He does not proceed further into the hallway.

"Alright, Boxos," he addresses the sphere again, "Just who is this administrator I'm supposed to contact? Who owns this place?" And how do I wring his neck when I find him? he adds silently. He chews his lips as he eyes the three statues distrustfully. "While we're at it, what exactly is this corridor of concession?"

[Pseudosym]

VoxOS whirs, apparently processing the succession of questions. "THE ADMINISTRATOR IS... INSUFFICIENT PRIVILEGES. PLEASE CONTACT ADMINISTRATOR.

"ACCESSING INFO ON: THE CORRIDOR OF CONCESSION...

"THE CORRIDOR OF CONCESSION IS THE SECOND ROOM IN THE MASTER'S DUNGEON. TO PASS THROUGH THIS ROOM AND PROCEED CLOSER TO ESCAPE, ONE MUST SOLVE THE PUZZLE OF THE STATUES AND UNLOCK THE DOOR. THE SOLUTION TO THE PUZZLE IS: ...INSUFFICIENT PRIVILEGES. PLEASE CONTACT ADMINISTRATOR."

[Manicorn]

Brosh rolls his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"


Deciding to ignore the statues for the moment, he goes to investigate the barred doorway first. If he can get out that way without bothering with any "puzzles" at all, he'll be a happy boy...


Barring that, he'll more closely examine the statues and see if there's anything unusual about them.