I have come to understand why the Mouth of Doom has nothing but bugs in it. The place is trapped all to hell. ENDLESS arrays of pits, collapsing rooms, exploding chests, acid ceilings, and toxic gas vents.
Our latest delve started with zombies. Simple wandering corpses, Malic held the door shut while we readied ourselves and then cut them to ribbons. As usual they had nothing of value, but 2 less walking dead is 2 less monsters in the world.
We’ve found a serviceable and ventilated kitchen to hole up in, and have begun further explorations. At Ralnor’s Fall we found more centipedes and killed them. I don’t recall if this was before or after Maladash revealed his new and interesting method of finding traps, vis a vis setting them off and falling into them. But in doing so he discovered a very well-equipped and very dead adventurer. We took his gear and I said a quick prayer of peace, but I can only carry the weight of so many dead on my mind and heart, so we moved on.
Behind a spiked-shut door we found 3 piles of bones, the only remnants of 3 ill-fated adventurers who had chosen to camp in a place where the air was not safe. Very sad, but also very surprising, the gas was foul-smelling and horrid and they seemed to be sleeping right on top of the vent.
Further along, we discovered a room whose ceiling dripped acidic green slime. After its painful discovery Bamf was canny enough to strap a torch to a polearm and our mighty sweeper Mierda kept the slime at bay by burning it while we investigated the room beyond.
3 large treasures chests lay before us, and after Maladash’ trademark method of disarming the traps, one ugly crater and an unstable roof lay behind us as we rapidly fled yet another deathtrap.
Such an odd thing, this dungeon, like it was designed by a sadist who hated the people who might serve him within it.
In any event, after more picked-clean rooms and more collapsing ceilings and floors we happened upon 4 bandits who were somehow able to survive and camp down here. They set to battle and lost, but in truth I suspect it was merely suicide by adventurer. I suspect they were trapped down here, hiding from all the monsters that had chased them to the back room they were hiding in and unable to find their way out alive.
As for our own companions, they are shaping up to all be as insane as the rest of us. Mierda is obsessed with poop, and the sweeping thereof. Maladash continue to be disgusting for the sake of being disgusting. Bamf and Mathilda exude a fog of angst so thick you could cut it with a knife. I suppose Devon, Ged, and Malic aren’t exhibiting signs of any particular obsessions or emotional injuries, or much of anything at all.
But here I am, a man with the power of life going into a land of death, so I suppose I can’t point any accusatory fingers. But at the same time while I can magically heal the body, healing the mind and soul is just as important and nowhere near as easily-fixed. I should talk with them, see what I can see about how they feel.
Nothing good comes easy, after all.