An episodic adventure using ‘Iron Dungeoneer!’ rules.
West along a short downward slopping corridor Ēlin steps into a long hall, his torch light revealing a large grey patch of mushrooms secured to the cobbled floor.
They look, odd, to his eyes.
To the south he notices a small pile of papers ‘?‘, a far more interesting thing to look at then fungi ‘,‘.
Five sheets of vellum lay upon the floor each have the same short phrase penned upon them, ‘Indemeor co me‘.
He senses magic in those words.
Stowing them in his ruck he looks back at the mushroom patch and notices what appears to be an apple ‘,‘.
Not being a picky eater and it only being slightly wrinkled, he stows it away in the ruck as well.
A strange place to find an apple laying about.
Now, for those mushrooms.
Ēlin moves to get a better look, maybe they’re of the edible sort?
As he moves closer he sees that the patch looks very unappetizing, in fact they look down right poisonous. Unnaturally large, glistening grey with large purple spots, they looked to him of bruised dead flesh.
He leans forward to take a closer look and is met with a discharged cloud of spores, the fine cloud hangs close to his person and is inhaled.
His eyes water and burn, vision blurs and his head aches as he stumbles about the patch.
He fumbles for his dagger and swings wildly at the grey and misses, stumbling again unable to control his movements.
Another cloud of acrid spores fills his lungs, his mind is stricken with confusion.
He can feel his body weaken with each burst from the patch, his thoughts and actions betray him.
He attempts to step away from the un-moving patch but ends up beside it and into a fresh cloud of spores.
Concentrating all his will upon escape…
he manages to take a step away from the threat.
And then, another.
The spores cease to explode from the mushroom enemy and he collapses to the ground, weakened but alive.
He briefly passes out.
He awakens.
Lazy torchlight flickers from the floor.
Blurry eyes make out the mushrooms in front of him, a twitchy spasm ripples through the patch.
The room is silent.
His head throbs with pain.
He recovers himself and slides back toward the corridor defeated and takes several more moments to gain his wits.
Sitting, back against the wall the youth reaches inside his ruck and produces one of the sheets of vellum recovered from the floor.
In his still addled mind he reads the words to himself.
Indemeor co me…Indemeor co me.
‘Indemeor Ço mɛ‘!
The words so easily slipped from his mouth.
The room disappears.
He finds himself sitting back inside the burial mound, the sheet of vellum gone.
He stands up, a little taken aback by the abruptness of the trip but not perplexed by it, as though he had always recognized the words and their arcane affect.
Very useful items, he keeps the remaining sheets close at hand.
Walking back to the hall and looking at the exits, a closed door ‘+‘ begs his attention.
He will return later to explore the others and perhaps rid the room of fungi as well.
For now he carefully avoids the patch and moves to the south eastern door.
The door pushes in, mostly opening with a little persuading, the air is mildewed and damp beyond.
It feels different in here, reminding him of a root cellar perhaps.
The walls roughly shaped and the floor sparsely cobbled with large stones grouted with dirt and patchy, grey mosses.
He follows the snaking corridor as it leads steeply down until he comes to a leveled intersection.
To the west, an open hallway.
To the east, a broken door ‘,‘ askew on its hinges…
East it is.
Still sloping down he reaches a second leveled intersection.
A short few steps north and the hall abruptly ends.
He turns to the south and sees what appears to be an entrance to a larger chamber.
As Ēlin draws near the entrance torchlight dances across a small collection of neatly arranged vials upon the floor, a reddish liquid can be seen inside ‘!‘.
Potions, for the having.