The d∞

The dissertation project of theoretical mathematician Professor Dies Yaws Githe, recovered from the depths of the MEGA-MEGA-YETI-HAND section of the Infinity Hotel. The die appears as an iridescent d20 of some kind of bone or ivory, of the typical size and dimensions you'd have available at the table. The grain of the bone on each of the sides appears to shift and warp under non-rolled conditions.

Professor Dies theorized it was made from the long tooth of the fabled Recursive Infinicorn. Under normal circumstances, when the die is rolled it will produce a symbol on its topmost face which in all likelihood represents some impossibly-too-large-to-understand number. Staring at the number for even a short time produces headaches and nausea in little tiny apelike human brains. It is infinitely impossible that the same symbol will ever appear again.

Under unusual probabilistic circumstances when something is fiddling with fate, such as the influence of a god, a probabilistic entity, or a mathematical determinator, something else is likely to happen entirely. As such, the Professor Dies discovered that the die can be used much like a canary in the coalmine for the proximity of anomalous probabilistic influences.

The ∞ Die Has Been Cast! (d20)

(And circumstances are NOT normal!)

1. The Die keeps rolling and rolling, faster and faster, heating up itself and the air around it. If not restrained it will bore through the earth and produce a thermal explosion about 1 to 20 meters below the surface, producing the effects of an Earthquake spell. It can be painstakingly recovered. A restrained infinitely-rolling die can probably be made into an everlasting reactor, or something.

2. The Die splits into two dice, each of exactly half the volume and mass as the original. Every 1d20 seconds it will do this again. Unless time is somehow reversed it will continue to split until it becomes a pile of Recursive Sand the same mass and volume as the die. Anything that eats, breaths, or looks at this sand for a modest amount of time effectively becomes a living Infinity Die, and will function as the die would in similar circumstances. It is up to you as to what 'being rolled' encompasses. If the Recursive Sand is scattered into an environment it will have similar results upon the environment, resulting in weird probabilistic nonsense like trees growing into squares or water flowing against gravity.

3. Higher dimensional projections fail and the Die puffs out becoming a sphere of equal mass and volume. Hypothetically there is an infinitely small die face oriented up at any given time, but in all likelihood it's going to start rolling downhill.

4. The Die splits into two dice, along with the one who rolled it, producing a Doppelganger of the roller who in any given situation will do the opposite of what the player-character does, even if it's obviously self-destructive. All future results of each of the dice have half the normal number of outcomes (d4):

1. Evens + Odds. Easy enough. Effects this Table's results.
2. One to Halfway + Halfway to Infinity. Virtually functionally identical.
3. Infinity + Infinity x 2. Second die rolls twice on this table.
4. All Digits Ending in 1-5 + All Digits Ending in 6-0. Effects this Table's results.

If this result and its sub-table eventually produce an impossible combination, then a Paradox Archangle (sic) will come and beat the shit out of you for messing with reality.

5. For the next 5 rolls in which it's applicable: X in Y chances are now Y - X in Y chances. (Ex: 1 in 6 becomes 5 in 6.)

6. The digits shown seem like a summoning circle. Whatever is messing with your fate spontaneously appears out from the die in reverse-spaghettification. If it's a god then they will be present in the flesh, and they might need to explain themselves, or you could possibly murder them forever. If it's a probabilistic entity it'll probably be pretty confused as to why it just got reverse-sphaghettified, and possibly meander a bit or eat the luck of everyone present. If it's a probabilistic determinator, then congratulations! You now have a new probabilistic determinator in your possession! If none of the above seem plausible, then The Devil appears, laughs, and offers to buy back his die for deferred sentence in Hell. Refuse his third offer and he'll simply take it.

7. Strange number! For the next 7 dice rolls not related to the Infinity Die, the roller can determine their results.

8. The next time the roller rolls a standard die roll for your system, they roll two dice and add them together to generate the result.

9. The Die fumbles and rolls out of existence. To the lay observer it will have simply disappeared. It's on some higher plane now! Can be retrieved by Astral Projection or similar plane-shifting.

10. The die becomes as a mirror face, and a shady individual appears within it. They ask for someone to kill, and require only a name. Given a name, the Mirror Assassin, who moves in reflections, will go and kill this person provided there are any reflective surfaces for him to use. He is very patient, capable of waiting centuries for a time to strike.

11. Professor Dies Yaws Githe spontaneously appears! Alongside him is a rotting worm-infested corpse that looks like it just came out of a shallow grave (because it did). Professor Dies will be momentarily very confused, as he will have just been teleported from whatever he was previously doing. 1 in 6 chance he's indecent. After coming to his senses, he'll realize what happened: "You rolled EPSILON-DEVILFACE-DEVILFACE again. Well, welcome to the club you poor sod!" This die roll summons anybody who ever rolled this number, dead or alive. Professor Dies unfortunately had to put down this poor nameless bloke, who believed he was an evil ghost and tried to kill him. It was self-defense, he assures you!

If circumstances are amenable, Professor Dies can explain the Infinity Die and its strange mathematics. Unfortunately he can only do so in terms that someone with at least a graduate degree in fantasy theoretical mathematics could understand, so it's best to gloss over it 'off camera'. He can also explain that he is currently researching why he isn't being constantly summoned forever: if infinity exists, then infinite instances of this die roll being rolled should exist, and he (and you) should be being teleported all over infinity forever. This apparently isn't the case. He best hypothesis involves ghosts.

12. The Die result is 12. The odds of this happening naturally are 1/∞. Incredible! The next 1d12 die results on any die that can roll a 12 rolls will be 12, including on the Infinity Die and the d12 rolled to determine the number of twelves. The odds of this happening naturally are considerably less than 1/∞, which really calls into question the principles of probability in general. If somebody comments that that initial 12 really shouldn't count, since it means there are only really 11 rolls that become 12, then you are obligated to tell them they are stupid and unnecessarily argumentative!

13. The number rolled gains the attention of a Super-Planar Devourer, whose projection appears in the form of a mass of slavering mouths which will latch onto and eat anything they touch, sending the bits and pieces bitten off scattering through higher dimensions to be lost forever. This can destroy literally anything in this reality. If the roller didn't cast the die away from them for the initial roll they must Save or lose a limb. The Devourer will linger in place for 1d6 Days before unlatching from reality. For the Devourer, this is the equivalent of licking a mossy rock for sustenance. Great for destroying undestroyable things!

14. The roller gains a glimpse of the future on the die face. At the roller's choosing, they to retroactively act upon an event it as if they had known about it one minute prior to it happening. What they did cannot prevent the event from happening, but it can give them some sort of advantage.

15. The Grim Reaper appears, and informs you that you have just wagered your life against your death. The roller chooses a game of chance of their liking. If there's a house advantage, then the Grim Reaper gets to be the House. Win the game, and the roller is functionally immortal (though not eternally young or abled, see: Tithonus). Lose, and the Reaper instantly claims his due.

16. The roller gains a glimpse of a strange number and gains strange insight into the nature of mathematics. They can now comprehend very very very very very very large numbers, and the roller doesn't get sick when looking at them, such as under 'normal' rolling circumstances for the Infinity Die. Additionally, they now comprehend and remember all arcane symbols and can ascertain their meanings, and they are no longer affected by the effects of magical runes unless they want to be.

17. The Die result is 17. The odds of this happening naturally are 1/∞. Incredible!

18. Chosen roll! Every subsequent time the roller naturally rolls a '18', they bank a roll of 18 which can be used in place of any future roll. You can only have one '18' banked at a time, unless you roll this result again on the Infinity Die without using a banked 18, in which case the number of banked '18's goes up by one.

19. God appears (or whatever passes as closest to God in your setting) and commands that you roll the die again. Technically speaking, you have free will, so you could refuse, but that probably wouldn't go well. I suppose if you have something to say to God now is the time. If you refuse three times then a Saint will appear and snatch up the die, using the good fortune of God's blessings to escape.

20. Wish Number. Gain one Wish.

Tomb of the Iconoclast - Level 1 Room 13-24

 INTRODUCTION

Level 1 - Rooms 1-12

Level 1 - Rooms 13-24

Level 1 - Rooms 25-37

LEVEL 2 (TBD)

~~~~~

LEVEL 1

Entrances: Tomb Entrance (1-1), Crawling Bats (1-10), Cistern (1-17)

For a bigger map, link here: Tomb of the Iconoclast Map

Made in Gridmapper

1-13. Decorated Hall

Walls with peeling plaster detail the conquests of the Iconoclast. His towering person topples the idols of gods. He drives the priests into the mines. He melts down their golden treasures.

Among one depiction of the Iconoclast enthroned, there is a slightly smaller but still towering figure next to him - a queen, forever lost to entropy. The plaster has totally rotted away, revealing the dark webbed passage of Room 14.

1-14. Spider Larder

Large spider webs criss-cross in the darkness. Ellipsoid coccoons hang every 10ft or so. It smells musty. Touching them will alert Madam Spoon in Room 15 that visitors have arrived. What is trapped in the web?

1. A deer, dead.

2. A man, Miller, a Fighter and a poisoned one at that. If revived he's in a stupor, and afraid his guts will fall out (they won't, but he doesn't know that). Return him to civilization and he'll murder someone important after it's discovered that his wife remarried after having forgotten him.

3. An Unseen Servant. Waiting.

4. Couple of flightless bats.

5. A broken idol.

6. A small bear

If the Madam knows that company is due, a welcome mat made of spider silk will be laid out on the flow just inside the entrance. It says, in crooked typeface:

Welcome! To

Madam Spoon's

Soup Buffet!

1-15. Soup! Soup!

A great rusty metal cauldron of soup! It smells savory and a bit dusty. Tended by Madam Spoon, who churns the stew to a spidery perfection. She is a Cauldron Spider - brown bear-sized, with marks upon her back that look like a sad or happy drama face, depending on her mood. She uses this to ‘talk’ by moving the face around with her back muscles. She considers this her 'real' face.

"Oohhhh! Come in! Come in! The soup is almost ready! How skinny you all are! Come, you must have a taste!"

The soup is a roiling boiling cauldron of mystery meat and venom-digested innards. It's gross, and smells a bit like vomit. It's safe to eat, though.

As long as the illusion is maintained that she is a chef, and not a spider, then she will act as a chef (albeit kind of a bad one). If people keep insisting that she's a spider, then her animal memories will come crashing back and that's exactly how she'll behave, with hissing and chittering and trying to eat you.

What Does She Want?

• You to try the soup!
• Comments on the soup. Was it good? Savory? Tasty?
• To talk about cooking with literally anyone. The extent of her cooking knowledge is injecting venom into innards and drawing out the soup. (For whatever reason this doesn't conflict with her illusion.). She wants to know what 'grilling' is? She can be endlessly occupied and kept in her sapient state by continually discussing cooking. Show her a cooking technique and you'll be best friends.
• A cessation to that confounded rumbling! The "Rumbling Machine" (The Juggernaut) rumbles about all day and all night sometimes! She suggests that you go tell whoever is driving it to give it a rest. (In fact nobody is driving it, but this might give hint about the hollow backside of the Juggernaut.)
• She's been watching the chests in the next room (Room 1-31, as seen through 1-18 Spider Peephole). "They sometimes move around, isn't that odd? They never come into my house, though..."

Why Is She Like This?

The Forgotten God affects different species differently. Sapient creatures like humans, dwarves, and elves become as feral beasts, 'forgetting' their civilized selves. For certain beasts, it's the opposite. They 'forget' their instincts and become blank slates for personalities or spirits or ghosts to take hold. Perhaps Madam Spoon is possessed by a ghost, or perhaps underneath every spider there's a chef waiting to emerge.

1-16. Webs

Above the cistern stair is a hole. Webs inside, most invisible. Any disturbance will alert Madam Spoon in Room 15.

1-17. Cistern Entrance

Below the Tower of Baul are stone steps. It is dark. It opens up into a cylindrical cistern with an internal thread stair 40ft deep. One stone step midway down will give, plunging the first to step on it 20ft to the ground. Careful examination or pole-prodding can avoid this hazard.

10ft above this point halfway down is a dusty crack in the wall 5ft across. This is the entrance to 1-16.

1-18. Spider Peephole

A peephole looking into Room 1-31. Bathouse-side the peephole is fixed within a mosaic of a comely medusa. Madam Spoon likes to spy through with several of her eyes, where the eyes of the medusa and her snakes are.

1-19. Eye Hall

a. An eye is painted on the eastern side of the western door, paralyzing an Unseen Servant which is frozen mid-hallway. If the door is left open, the eye will no longer bind the Servant (though the PCs eyes likely will as long as they look at it). The walls on the north and south sides have been crushed through. Dust and rubble around the statue.

b. Three skeletons of ancient masons still claw at the walls with their bones. By a lethal forgetfulness they were bricked up here, along with their tools. Scattered about are: four chisels, three trowels, two hammers and two axes, one borer, and thirteen gold teeth worth 130gp. The tools are still in good condition, despite their age.

1-20. Unseen Servant Prison

Circular room, eyes painted on every tile. Supposedly an eternal prison for the Unseen Servants. The floor in the middle has given out and is very unstable. Trying to inspect the hole without caution will result in more of the floor falling through, resulting in a 30ft drop into Room 2-24.

1-21. Crumbled Stairs

Hidden hallway, untouched by the tombmakers. The walls depict a haze-faced god. Its arms are like rivers. Poppy flowers are its crown. The Forgotten God, whose image is long eroded.

Crumbling plaster hides a 20ft spiked pit trap to the north, accessible from below.

1-22. Graveyard of Idols

Hundreds of religious idols, ground into a dusty dirt parking lot. Here and there the remains of partially crushed stone idols hide in the rubble, fragments adorned with torment. Much of it seems flattened, undisturbed, as if a streamroller had recently run over it.

Search the piles, and every Turn have a 1 in 6 chance to discover something for each person searching:

1. Idol of Enu, God of Mice and Small Things, lies unnoticed and uncrushed in the corner. Depicted as a tiny man with mouse ears. Enu will request that the idol be removed from this place, and then squirreled away in some secret place. Do this and all tiny things will be your friend.
2. Crushed Idol of Strength: only abs remain. Made of solid rock. Strong and tank-trappy enough to halt the Juggernaut for 3 Rounds.
3. Beautiful Stone Face, eyes scratched out.
4. Emperor Head, big as a cooler. Enormous eyes gazing skyward, pitifully. Examine very closely and listen quietly, and you can hear the long-dead Emperor's cries from whatever hell he inhabits, very softly as if very far away. He cries for annihilation.
5. Geode. Miraculously uncrushed. Seems an oddly spherical stone to all but those who dwell underground, who will recognize it immediately. Contains one serving of Primordial Water, which smells a little like a fart but completely restores health and all lost memories.
6. Rat Pawprints. Halfling-sized. Ultimately leading to and from 1-23.

1-23. A Terrible Smell

A crumbling plaster wall gives way to a stinky natural cavern. In this alcove there is a horrible smell, emanating from below. The occasional chitter and squeak of tussling rats can be heard if one waits and listens.

1-24. The Juggernaut!

The door to the west depicts a great and terrible demon face on its western side, identical to that in 1-2. Two easy to find switches in each of the demon's eyes, when flipped together, causes the door to drop down vertically into the floor with a great clamor.

Behind it: a great demon face! The juggernaut stirs! Its axes slice and its terrible gears whirr! It will stir to life in 2 Rounds, then pursue all who live and crush anything in its path! If the door is replaced after activation, the Juggernaut will simply plow right through it.

The Juggernaut is virtually indestructible, but it cannot turn around easily in hallways (although trying to get past it is extremely hazardous, due to the whirring axes and scythes.) It will plow through doors and roll over pit traps in pursuit of intruders. Anything that could stop a WW2-era tank could potentially stop it.

Tomb of the Iconoclast - Level 1 Rooms 1-12

INTRODUCTION

LEVEL 1 (Rooms 1-12)

Level 1 (Room 13-24)

Level 1 (Rooms 25-37)

LEVEL 2 (TBD)

~~~~~

(X-Y) = Dungeon Level X - Room # Y

(2-26) = Dungeon Level 2 - Room # 26

FOREWARD

The Tomb of the Iconoclast is built upon the foundation of the temple of the Forgotten God - a god of unknowing, memory loss, entropy, and dementia. The Iconoclast was his greatest servant, and eventually his greatest victim. This erased king used the temple's power to destroy the gods of his enemies, throw down their idols, and bring ruin to their nations, but he could not prevent the Forgotten God from doing the same to him through the slow process of entropy.

An aura of forgetfulness encompasses the entire tomb, emanating from the Idol of the Forgotten God (2-26) and leaking out into the countryside. Those proximal eventually lose all of their memories and become as the old woman in Cast: unable to remember even their names or formulate coherent thoughts. This entropy also applies to the tomb's residents and even its mechanical traps: none of them function as they should (but some of them are still dangerous!).

The Reverse River leads to the Idol. In any room with water present, there is a moderate current going towards the Idol Room. In Tidelock, the original setting for this dungeon, it is implied that the god eats water, because memory is stored in water, hence he eats memories. An alternative explanation may be needed for your game. Perhaps...

• Onderboven, a local god of reversal, is trying to bury the temple and its denizens as an act of revenge.
• The spirit of the Lake, Mother Superior, is trying to hint at the presence of the temple. No god likes a god that kills all other gods.
• The effect of the temple is so strong that water forgets which way to flow and the laws of reality come apart at the seams.

ONCE EVERY TURN...

Roll 1d12. On a 1, roll on 'Something Is Lost'. On a 2, roll on the 'Random Encounter' list.

1: Something Is Lost... Take turns with each character, starting with the character of lowest Intelligence. If the thing lost isn't present, move down the list until it works.

1. A Spell - Lose one prepared spell, Magic Die, or spell slot of lowest available.

2. A Skill - Lose random proficiency until retrained.

3. A weapon proficiency - Until you retrain in this weapon, gain no proficiency bonus (or take a -4)

4. Personal Memory - Cross off ONE NOUN on your character sheet. That thing never happened, and if it did someone else now has credit.

5. One Name - Cross off ONE PROPER NOUN on your character sheet or contact notes. That person will treat you like a stranger. If it’s one of yours, nobody in the party can remember it.

6. Item - Cross off ONE ITEM from your character sheet. Where did it go??

2: Random Encounter. (Roll 1d8)

1. The Juggernaut - Rumbling around in the next room over. May come crashing through the wall or door making a new passageway.

2. The Cauldron Spider - Doesn’t want to be seen unless in lair. It is shocked, abashed!

3. Unseen Servant - Appears behind a door with the sound of stones grinding together.

4. 2d4 Feral Ratfolk - Looking for food

5. Passive Green Slime - Can’t attack, but it can occupy a space.

6. The Wizard BA-UL, he’s probably crying.

7. Stray Deer, Boar, or Badger. What is it doing here? (Going to the Chapel)

8. 1d8 Ancient Skeleton Warriors, patrolling for intruders.

LEVEL 1

Entrances: Tomb Entrance (1-1), Crawling Bats (1-10), Cistern (1-17)

For a bigger map, link here: Tomb of the Iconoclast Map

Made in Gridmapper

1-1. Tomb Entrance

Cave entrance leading into/out of the mountain. Where the Reverse River leads, flowing down a narrow passage. A great seal, now crumbled. Above the threshold, beside crumbling plaster there remains the word: “OBLIVION”

The full message, if the remaining plaster is removed: “May those who enter embrace OBLIVION.”

1-2. Epithet

A mighty 20ft-high statue of the Iconoclast dominates the center of the room. Hammer in hand, imperial beard, face seemingly melted away as if erased by the ages. The Reverse River from outside snakes around the following inscription on the floor before heading west:

HERE RESTS ~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RAZER OF TEMPLES

SLAYER OF KINGS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~ ICONOCLAST!

Crumbling stone doors to the west and east. The eastern door is locked by a bolt-lock mechanism. Standard door-breaking check to bust it down.

The walls are decorated in crumbling plaster depictions the same figure as the statue. In no depiction is his face visible. He burns the weeping priests. He enslaves their servants. He crushes idols and gods beneath his great hammer. The plaster on the northern face contains in bas relief a great leering demon face (the same as the Juggernaut’s). Its orifices are obviously hollow on inspection.

Inside the...

• Mouth: a dusty crawlspace leading to a hallway beyond. Dead bugs cover the floor.
• Nose: One hundred ancient scrolls, fused together by time and compression. They crumble in your hands. Thorough search reveals one good spell scroll of a Deconsecrate spell.
• Left Ear: hidden switch covered in spider webs. Seemingly doesn't do anything when flipped, but it will alert the Cauldron Spider in Rooms 1-15/18 that there are visitors.
• Right Ear: hidden switch unlocks the door to 1-19
• Eye Pupils: Aperture six inches across. Horrible endless void within. The space in here goes on forever in darkness. Anything tossed within will fall endlessly in a fathomless void forever.

Deconsecrate Scroll: Cast time 1 Turn. Any room which this is cast on becomes unnoticeable to all gods. No sins can be committed in it, and the Forgotten God cannot impose its influence on it. Lasts until reconsecrated by a priest.

1-3. Pit Trap

(Note: Smell of rot from Room 1-5)

The floor is uneven, visibly sloping down from west to east at a shallow angle. A smell of rot emanates from the hall west.

Somehow, the Reverse Stream goes down into the pit and back up the other side.

Walls depict soldiers leaping over a gorge to slay priests. A concealed plaster pit trap hides a spike pit. 10ft fall onto rusted metal spikes. The spikes are decayed to the point being unable to hold weight, but they can still give you tetanus.

1-4. Empty Chapel

Cold walls and a stone altar split in twain - by mighty blow sundered. Inside the cracked altar is but unremarkable-looking dust. This Saint Bone dust can be revealed by Detect Magic, or by a cleric putting their hands in it (gives them a holy feeling), and can be rubbed upon wounds to staunch bleeding and heal any single wound or disease.

1-5. Idol Dinner Torment

Smells like rot from one room away. The Reverse Stream traverses the room, flowing north.

Stone table eternally piled with rotting offal. Broken god-idols are placed around the table like a big dead propped-up family, indistinguishable from another save for vague anatomical forms. Like the barbarians came through and mockingly set up a pantheon dinner. Their eyes are all scratched out, and their ears torn off, but their noses remain so they can smell it.

One is not like the others - an Unseen Servant has replaced one - the replaced broken idol body litters the area behind it. The Servant will stalk those it can, for a way out.

The vessels on the table are made of good silver, obscured by the rot. Bowls, cups, knives, forks, plates: all together would fill up a potato sack and be worth 1000sp.

Western wall has a portion oddly bricked-up. A secret tomb behind. The eastern wall’s plaster is failing, revealing a room scattered with bones: Room 6.

Unseen Servant - Virtually indestructible. Weeping angel rules. Won't snap necks but it will block doors and arrest intruders by grabbing their limbs and holding still forever.

1-6. Bone Bins

(Note: Smell of rot from Room 1-5)

This room may be viewed from a peephole in the crumbling plaster to the east, the decomposing plaster from the west, or tunneled through the wall to the north.

Three gleaming golden bins full of miscellaneous crumbling bones. Upon being touched they will jumble as if animating, but they are too tangled to do anything but rattle the bin. They will continue to rattle loudly for 1d4 Turns. For each Turn this is happening, Encounters happen on a roll of 2 to 6 on the d12 Once Every Turn.

If any bins are emptied or turned over, their bones will spill out and animate into a horrible bone amalgamation, which will vengefully try to end anything it sees.

The gold can be stripped off of the exterior of the bins. Each bin's gold exterior is worth 200gp, and can be stripped off with appropriate tools (like a chisel) in 1 Turn, or 4 Turns without tools. Up to four people can divide this required time amongst themselves.

7. High Priest Sarcophagus

(Note: Smell of rot from Room 1-5)

Lead sarcophagus, sealed weakly with plaster. Inside: skeletal remains of a high priest, with an obsidian dagger impaled within a desiccated heart and an all-encompassing iron vessel placed on his skull. Ancient wound still stains brown the ceremonial robes, which depict a skeletal hand. If the dagger is removed the heart will beat again, and the flesh will regrow. Replacing the dagger will require an attack roll or skill check and will arrest the regrowing process.

High Priest Mithrum was so devout to the god of undeath that he could never truly die. For him but a moment has passed since the forgotten dagger BLASPHEMY was plunged into his heart. He believes the Iconoclast and his servants are still before him, though now his body has rotted away and he is blind and deaf from an iron helm placed on his head. He will cast dangerous spells (lightning bolts, cloudkills, marks of death) purely randomly, with a 20% failure chance due to his deafness.

BLASPHEMY causes those its strikes to blaspheme, losing the favor of their gods. Very effective against angels, clerics, priests, and those that made dark pacts with godlike beings, robbing their powers unless they can atone.

If the iron helm is removed before the dagger, Mithrum will only cast one killer spell in confusion.

If his initial onslaught is survived... He will apologize curtly in a strange tongue and quickly come to despair at his surroundings. If by some odd chance there's an expert in dead languages present, he'll ask what year it is. Whatever the answer will be an unfamiliar system to him. In a panic, he'll expedite to the east, and seek to exit the temple. He horrors at the scene in 1-5. If the pit trap in Room 3 is yet unrevealed, he'll fall right in an impale upon the spikes, but of course it won't kill him (he can't die). He'll just be stuck there forever, fixed by the spikes, until someone comes along.

8. Falling Statue

(Note: Smell of rot from Room 1-5)

Giant statue of the Iconoclast overlooks the hall. He wields his great hammer high above his head, as if he might strike the ground before him.

Concealed pressure plate activates the hammer: it swings partially down, but gets stuck before it can hit the ground. A great sundering of stone can be heard where the ankles of the statue break. Two rounds later the whole statue will topple into the hallway, crushing anything underneath.

Retreat or dash forward, a decisive maneuver is required to avoid getting smooshed. (Note: there's a good chance the way back will be blocked by the Unseen Servant, if eyes haven't been kept on it.) Being within the hallway but not within 20ft of the statue's original position does the damage equivalent of a Fireball instead of instant death.

Once the statue has fallen, the hallway will be completely blocked. It will require 10 Turns with tools, or 30 Turns without, divided among all the working people to excavate the blockage. Double that time is needed to excavate anything crushed beneath the statue.

9. Strange Docile Ooze

Natural caverns appear oily, as if the walls were sweating. Pools of docile Grey Ooze linger about. They will corrode metal if touched and burn skin if in prolonged contact. The ooze has forgotten its aggression and will not react to anything. If brought outside, after 1d4 days it will gain its animating spirit again and start ravenously consuming metal.

Navigating around the ooze will require a climb check to not fall in it. Failure means falling down, taking a menial amount of acidic damage and saving for each metal item that's exposed (armor, weapons, belt clasps, etc.).

10. Crawling Bats

The floor is covered in crawling guano-covered bats. They scurry around like rats, and will peep and scatter if approached. Guano litters the floor. Moving through it faster than a crawl requires a dexterity check. Moving on a slippery slope likewise.

If handled, they bite! Bite means 1 in 6 chance of contracting rabies.

A set of slippery guano-covered stairs in an alcove leads directly to a dusty red-bricked wall. A solid hit will bust it open, revealing more slippery stairs down to 2-7 - Slippery Moss.

11. Dark Pit

A black pit whispering multitudinous madness. Compulsion emanates from it, powerful and wanting. It wants libations - alcoholic drink poured down into the well. If not spirits, it will take oil. If not oil, it will take blood. The compulsion gets stronger and stronger the more one resides in the room.

If their patience runs out: it will attempt to enchant all those in the room to jump down the pit, spilling their blood upon the cthonic deities within. The last thing you'll see after plunging 200ft down is a horrible face.

With the giving of spirits or blood, the Nameless Excess God will give its blessing to all those around. When next they do something incredibly excessive, it’ll be incredibly successful in an excessive way.

12. Idol Hands and Idle Heads

Piles of severed stone idol limbs, heads, fingers, and noses lie in heaps beside a large pit. It’s clear that they were here to be cast down, though the pit is now jammed up with so many.

Searching among them carefully, or with magical detection, or having found one of the other fingers reveals the Black Thumb, embedded in a stone eye.

A narrow way can be navigated down this jam, but it will require a squeeze. The jammed chute is not so stable either. A dexterity check is required, or one will be trapped. A stable way can be cleared in 6 Turns. Only one person can work at a time on this. It will be tiring.

Black Thumb - 1 in 4 pieces of the Black Hand. The Black Thumb can be used when held aloft like a holy symbol to wither all plants within 60ft. Or otherwise as a Blight spell. It can do this once per Day for each finger of the Black Hand you possess (max 4). (When used on Slippery Moss, it also dries it out and makes it not slippery anymore.)