The Lost Dungeon of Rickedness
Thursday April 16, 2020
This week finds AC20, Queen Badonkadonk, Buzz-saw, Just The Roy, Claws and Robo-DaJ in Room 16
16. Many Doors Room
At the center of this room floats a tiny orb of energy that lights the area up. The room has two other doors. When the last of you enters the room, the door you all came through suddenly slams shut! The door you came through and the other doors are no longer alone. All the walls are suddenly covered with identical doors 24 in all. Weirdly, you’re no longer sure which door you came through to get in here. But each door now accesses this same room in a different parallel dimension. Each dimension has one difference from the others, determined by rolling on the Bonkers Dimensions table. A character who passes through a door immediately notices the novelty of the dimension, but the rest of the characters waiting in the room have always existed in this new parallel dimension, and they don’t think it’s strange at all.
- Everything smells like licorice. Gross.
- Coins are sentient here, and they are aware that they are being traded and hoarded as property.
- The air tastes like lemon but smells like lime.
- Laughter is backward here.
- All movement is done in dance.
- All light is fluorescent and irritating.
- A constant “EEEEEE!!!” whines in the distance.
- All fire is pixelated.
- Every surface is slightly bouncy.
- People’s hair grows at an accelerated rate here. You can watch it happen if you pay attention.
- You are overwhelmed by the certainty that squirrels don’t control this dimension.
- This is the exit door. Nothing is different in this dimension. You’re free!
15. Buttless Zombie Room
The doors to this room are open just a crack. Regardless of which direction the characters approach from, a gravelly croak for help issues from inside the room. If the characters look inside, read my words:
It stiiiinks like something rotten in the fridge in here. Before you can come to appreciate the delicate bouquet, you see five zombies hunched over another rotten-looking figure in a plush-*** chair. It looks like the zombies are gesturing accusingly at the figure, which appears to be tied up. You miss a lot of the nuance of the zombie debate, though, since they’re just grunting and moaning.
If you wanted this room to be weirder, you’re in luck—because these zombies are complaining that someone stole their butts….and then returned their butts!
Once any character makes their presence known, the zombies turn toward the party, and the ghoul in the chair calls out: “Help! I know I’m a ghoul, and this could easily be my thing, but it isn’t! The zombies think I ate their butts, but I swear, I didn’t! Help me, please!”
Its at this point that I seem to recall Morticia going straight full Trogdoor on this room. The Ghoul eats through his bindings during the distraction. I also seem to recall all of our heroes repeatedly swinging and missing at monsters that are basically just meat targets. Claws goes all Prophecy (obscure 1979 movie reference) on a Zombie. In (unnecessarily) cramped quarters Queen Badonkadonk takes out like 2 Zombies. Then Just The Roy whips out a cross or somefin and the undead are forced to flee. During their congo line of death, they are spanked out of existence brutal style. Good bye and good riddance. Smell you later.
Morticia finds a ring box. The box is opened. The box poofs into dust then the dust reforms on her/his/its finger as a magic ring of +1 Protection
24. Ooze Cult Room (Rated “M” for Mucus)
Even before they reach the door leading into this room, the characters notice that the floor, ceiling, and walls of the corridor adjacent to the door are moist and glistening. When you describe it, really draw out the word “moist.” It makes people pretty uncomfortable.
As the characters get close to the door, they see a pitiful dude embroiled in some serious inner turmoil stuff regarding his life decisions.
Beside a closed wooden door, you see a middle-aged man sitting with his back to the wall and his knees drawn up under his chin. He’s a real sad sack, sitting there in a rumpled yellow suit. To be clear, the suit is of fine quality, but there’s only so much you can do with a guy like this.
Light catches a lone tear rolling down his cheek. He lifts a flask to his lips, drains the contents, then stares at himself in the flask’s reflective surface. After a moment, he slurs, “I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
This guy is Borkibok, and he’s a cultist. If the characters give him a chance, he talks their ears off about midlife-crisis anxieties regarding choice, regret, broken dreams—you definitely know the script. Borkibok fell in with his cult twenty years ago, and he thinks now that he might have wasted his life.
After a few minutes of moaning, Borkibok takes a deep breath and vomits. Like reeeeally vomits. It’s all mucusy and mustard colored, and it just keeps coming. Kind of impressive, honestly. When he’s finally done, he stares as the whole messy pile starts to move on its own under the door and into the as-yet-unseen room beyond.
“Oh,” Borkibok says after a moment of watching his own vomit amble away. “I didn’t tell you about the treasure, right? I’m not supposed to tell anyone there’s treasure in there.”
The door to the room is unlocked. If the characters decide to follow the vomit into the room, read this description:
Five cultists bend over the railing of a balcony that rings the room, seriously vomiting. They vomit with true conviction, and it’s pooling in the middle of the floor.
As the foul pool begins to move, you are stricken with the thought that maybe the cultist in the corridor was right. Maybe all existence—everything that is, was, and will be—has just been a tremendous waste of time.
The goo is an ochre jelly, backed by five cultists. Once they notice the characters, they all attack.
If Borkibok is still alive, he attacks the party from behind. He’s a cultist after all, and duping rubes is kind of his jam.
Melee ensues. Claws goes up the stairs. Roy considers nuking the entire room. Robo Daj does some Eldritch Blasts. Queen B puts herself into the center of combat to gain advantage on the SQUARE WITH A CIRCLE AROUND IT. By doing so she receives a barrage of Donkey Kong barrels being thrown down from above. She Jackie Chan’s the incoming projectiles and deflects them into the SQUARE WITH THE CIRCLE AROUND IT killing it. A desparate cultist tries death from above only to be deflected into the support beam which collapses the balcony and getting trapped by it. The 2 or 3 other overhead cultists fall to the main level taking damage. Claws rolls down the stairs taking 1 point of bruised ego damage. The heroes quickly put these cultists out of their misery.
A half-empty cask sits on the balcony in the room, containing the oily, yellowish ipecac syrup that inspires the cultists to … make their offerings. A sticker portraying a green cartoon face smiles from the cask’s side. There are ten full swigs of “medicine” remaining within. Anyone who drinks from the cask spends the next 1d4 rounds prone and unable to stand as they heave up the contents of their stomachs. Why anyone would want to do this is beyond me, but if you’re drinking the leftovers of a whole mob of ooze cultists, you sort of get what you deserve.
The heroes don’t partake of the enticing barrel wine and instead retreat to a previous room and take a small rest.