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| Ingrid the One-Armed Dragon Slayer by her player, Josie |
One of the most well-known areas of Stonehell Dungeon is what I call the morgue, rooms 27 and 28 in quadrant 1A: a straight hallway with doors lining the walls. Each door leads to a 10' × 10' crypt. Inside each crypt is a monster roll and a treasure roll. The monsters are weak—especially with a Cleric, and we had two—but it's a grind. The 1d6 treasure roll is 50% nothing, but a '1' results in 1d6 × 1000 dungeon bux—that's a whole lotta dungeon bux! They've cleared half the crypts and made a fortune from great treasure rolls.
However, at the end of the hall is a big scary door. Behind that door is your average "evil temple with evil altar." Skulls and stuff. But, no real danger.
As a player, I was let down by that. So, as a DM, you better believe I put a monster in there—a giant rattler stylized as being undead. I gave it enough venom for one "save vs. death" strike—and it landed.
Ingrid the Dragon Slayer took the hit. She failed her save. Black and purple veins of rot started spider webbing outward from the horrific wound on her left arm. She was doomed. The dice said she had an hour of game time to live.
Ingrid's player took the death roll pretty well, but we all knew how much she liked her character and the players weren't ready to submit to the dice's fate yet. "Can we chop off the arm, Walking Dead style, and save the character?"
"She'd bleed out," was my reply.
One of the players offered that the instantaneous use of a Cure Light Wounds spell could "cauterize" the wound without healing hit points (similar to how it canonically cures paralysis without healing). Iver Swiftaxe, the Dwarf, would perform the surgery with a single swift stroke of Ingrid's own sword, "Dragon Cleaver."
As the rest of the party battled the snake, they performed the field surgery. It worked. The amputation cost eight (max damage) of Ingrid's nine remaining hit points. She was incapacitated but alive.
Just then, the entry doors the players had previously spiked closed started to rumble. A bunch of failed wandering monster checks were attacking from behind! The party was surrounded, caught between a giant undead snake and a squad of nine orcs bursting through the doors!
Kesshut the Magic-User's Sleep spell made quick work of the flanking orc horde; eight of nine dropped and the last fled. Our swordmaster (F3), William, rolled tremendous damage on two attacks and hacked off the rotten snake's head.
If you know the room, you know the quadrant's greatest treasure is hidden there. They were stuffing their pockets, bags, sacks, pouches, and backpacks full of coins. More than 20,000 xp worth of treasure to be divided between the six players. Everyone would level once; half would hit the one-level-per-delve limit with hundreds of xp wasted (Bolek the Acolyte went 1,118 over!). Now that's a haul!
They picked up the limping one-armed Dragon Slayer and started to make their way out of the dungeon, thoughts of the riches, fame, and power all this treasure would buy! The exit wasn't far! Just through the now-empty dragon cave, then past the sign and up the stairs—then home free.
There was only one problem. The dungeon wasn't finished with them.
Ever feel like the dice are supernatural arbitrators? I rolled a wandering monster literally right directly in front of the exit. Snakes! The save-or-die kind!
There was no way around them, only through. They fought well, but Swiftaxe got bit. His saving roll failed him. The evil serpent god would have its victim! He went down fighting, defending the rest of the team. So close to the exit, it was a bittersweet victory when the last snake was defeated.
With heavy hearts, they all escorted Swiftaxe to Snorri Broadshoulders, the NPC dwarf in the nearby dwarven statuary (Room 19). Swiftaxe would be laid to rest with full dwarven honors. Everyone said their farewells.
Missing their dwarven comrade, the party ascended, finally, back to the surface.
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