Broneslav decided to leave by the south-west door of the room. Beyond was a corridor. He followed it to a door that led to some stairs, but decided against going deeper into the pyramid until he had oriented himself here at the top. He followed the corridor further to a room that had obviously had a fight in it; the broken furniture and the rotting corpse on the floor were big clues. The room looked like it had not been used in a long time and was covered in a thick layer of dust, except where the fight had disturbed it. The dead hobgoblin had a water flask on its belt. With hope and fear, Broneslav took it. It felt full. He opened the flask and took a long sniff. It did not smell bad. A tentative tast. Then a much longer draught. The water was cool and felt glorious sliding down his throat. He breathed a huge sigh of satisfaction as he forced himself to stop drinking. He knew he might be sick if he drank too much in one go. He hung the flask on his belt and helped himself to the purse that also hung on the body's belt. It jingled satisfyingly. If the purse remained untouched, it suggested animals rather than humanoids. With sword and shield in hand he prepared to explore further, ready for whatever might lie ahead.
1 square = 10 feet
Broneslav moved to the door on the far wall. It lay slightly ajar and he could hear buzzing from the other side. Looking through the gap, he saw a giant bee, a good foot long, fly across his field of vision. He carefully pushed the door open a bit further and beheld a large pile of treasure in the centre of the room. A beehive hung directly above it, and half a dozen of the large bees were circling the room. The young warrior pulled the door shut, before the bees noticed him and decided to retrace his steps. There would be time to return for the treasure later, if he could find out where he was and the route back to civilisation.
He retraced his steps to the room he had first entered and considered which way to go this time.