2 Yarthmont - Avoiding getting slimed

Broneslav opened the north-west door onto a corridor. Moving carefully, he advanced quickly to the corner and peered round it. Nothing there, so he moved on to the next corner as the corridor turned back on itself. Again, nothing there, but a door on the south side. Easing the door open, he was met with a strong, musty smell. Nothing moved within. The room was dusty and had obviously not been used in a long time. It was full of old crates, bales of cloth and rotting sacks.

He headed back out into the corridor and further along, following its twisting route. The next door was on the north side of the corridor. He could hear voices through the door, even as he approached. Carefully easing the door open, he peered inside.

"Oh, a man," twittered a high-pitched voice.

Broneslav had not been sufficiently quiet. Suddenly he was bombarded with questions by the small, winged people who were seated on the crates in the middle of the room. They all talked over each other, and did not appear to listen to his replies. He tried asking them about the place he was in, but the only reply that made sense was that he was in the city of Cynidicea. Well, at least he had a name for the place. He left the small people to their twittering ways and left the room.

The corridor ended at a door. No noise came from this one. He opened it and beheld an empty room, apart from a large pile of green slime on the floor. As he looked in, the slime suddenly moved. He slammed the door shut and retreated. There had been no door out of the room, and he saw nothing to gain by fighting this thing. He headed back towards the central room again.

1 square = 10 feet

As he walked back, he suddenly realised that there was something amiss with the wall of the corridor immediately before the door to the room he had first entered by. Checking further, he found that the wall swung inwards into another room. Something glittered on the floor in the middle of it, but his attention was drawn to the half dozen bird-like creatures that swarmed towards him as soon as he entered. The speed of these creatures surprised him, but he was up to the challenge. His sword darted with devastating swiftness in and out of their bodies, and in seconds six of the creatures lay crushed and skewered on the floor. Unfortunately, as these six distracted him, the last of them landed on his shoulder and sank its beak into his unprotected neck (1 DAM). He grabbed the creature and threw it to the floor, crushing it under his boot heel. He cursed as he bandaged his wound, before examining the room.

From this side, he could clearly see that there was a secret door on the opposite side of the room too. He had missed that before. On the floor in the middle of the room, for no readily apparent reason, there lay some gems. Broneslav cleared guano and dust off them, and put them in his pouch. Other than more guano and dust, there was nothing else in this room. He returned to the central room again. Just one more door to try, before he went down the stairs he had found before.

2 Yarthmont: Bee-hind you, Mr Torenescu

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.

2 Yarthmont: Bugs, Mr Torenescu

As he descended the ladder, Broneslav could slowly make out more detail of the space below. The light got brighter as he neared it, although not as bright as a lit torch. The space below was obviously a room or corridor. With his feet near the ceiling of that room, he could see a large beetle with glowing stripes on its face and back. Fire beetles. [Oracle says that he knows about them] He'd heard of them before. They had glands in their body that gave off light. His family had occasionally had recourse to keeping them, but they were known to be vicious and hard to manage. With that in mind, he carefully unslung his shield drew his sword. Taking a quick breath, he dropped the final ten feet to the floor and swung at the beetle. Staggering slightly as he landed, his first blow missed, but the follow-through caught it at the back of the head, and it fell in its tracks, twitching. Suddenly a second beetle that he had not noticed before attacked him. He got his shield in the way of its bite just in time and crushed its head with his booted foot. Meanwhile a third beetle had now joined the fray. It's mandibles fastened on the back of his leg, tearing a bloody gash in his calf [2 DAM]. Off balance, Broneslav backpedalled quickly away from it, and it scuttled after him, biting another hole in his leg [1 DAM]. As his back hit the wall, Broneslav rallied and attacked. He skewered the beetle with his sword and then sliced its head off. Looking quickly around, he could see no other beetles, so he stopped to bandage his wounds before checking out the room he was no in.

There were a dozen or more urns against one wall. They were sealed, except for one whose contents had long ago evaporated. Against the other wall was a small forge with tools and scraps of metal around it. He opened one of the sealed urns and found it half-full of oil. Presumably the contents had evaporated even through the seal. There was nothing else of use, so Broneslav contemplated the three doors out of the room. Which one to take?