nightmare · 11 rooms · did not come back · seed log-nightmare-19
4 damage, a great deal of noise, and the party comes out of it spread across the passage.
The line this delve would be retold by.
10 of 12 values met. A reading, not a grade — the score exists to sort logs, not to judge them.
| Value | What the log shows | |
|---|---|---|
| met | A delve should be about somebody. | Pico della Mirandola carries it (4 mentions against 4); 4/4 named |
| missed | Rooms should be in the order they are for a reason. | nothing any room did reaches any later room |
| met | Something must go wrong, and it should be legible when it does. | 6 rooms cost the party something |
| missed | If every room is a beat, no room is. | flat: peak 3 against a median of 2 — no room stands out |
| met | A choice reads as a choice only when the alternatives are named. | 10 of 11 deliberations name a road not taken |
| met | A death is only worth reading if the dead had a line first. | 6 deaths, each of somebody the reader had met |
| met | Name the thing and state the number. | 11 of 11 resolutions state a number |
| met | The party should not argue in one voice. | 4 distinct voices across 10 deliberations |
| met | No sentence should appear twice in one delve, verbatim. | every effect line is said once |
| n/a | The boss should get to be a boss. | the party never reached the throne room |
| met | A resolution should be readable in one breath. | every resolution inside its budget |
| met | The back half should cost more than the front half. | front half 0, back half 7 |
| met | The ending should answer the delve it ended. | the epitaph names somebody who went down |
The dungeon itself turns hostile. The party must brace together or scatter. A pit takes up a third of the floor. The bottom is not visible. A boulder sits at the top of a slope, held by a wedge of rotten timber.
They might have chosen to brace together, or scatter and regroup — Michael Sendivogius made the case: "The body is a temple. Mine's a fortress." The party chose to sift the rubble.
🪨 The party sifts a fall of rubble: 40 gold.
🛡️ The order settles with Michael Sendivogius at the head of it: whatever comes, comes to them.
A shrine. Resting here heals the party; the gold leaf on the altar could be stripped instead. A brazier burns in its bracket — nobody has been here to feed it, and it burns anyway. A font holds water that has been still a long time and is somehow clean.
They might have chosen to rest and heal, or strip the gold leaf — Michael Maier made the case: "Gold in, gold out — that's the whole science." The party chose to bless the font and drink.
⛲ The cleric says the words over a stone font of still water and the party drinks: 12 health healed.
A chittering rat swarm holds the room (attack 8, health 20). The party must decide how to get past it. It is a swarm: spell openings hit it ×1.5. It keeps clear of the torches: weak to fire (fire damage ×1.5). Shelves sag under books nobody has audited in a century. A brazier burns in its bracket — nobody has been here to feed it, and it burns anyway.
They might have chosen to accept the duel, or recognize his school — Pico della Mirandola made the case: "I did not memorize this spell to whisper it." The party chose to negotiate the terms.
🤝 The stakes are agreed before the blades are: purse against passage. He is a better swordsman than a bargainer, and pays out. +30 gold, +22 score. 🎓 Everything this asks for, the party happens to have brought: +25 renown.
The dungeon itself turns hostile. The party must brace together or scatter. A pit takes up a third of the floor. The bottom is not visible. Half the ceiling is on the floor, in pieces worth stepping around.
They might have chosen to scatter and regroup, or sift the rubble — Marsilio Ficino made the case: "We are exactly where we are meant to be. Regrettably." The party chose to brace together.
🌋 The party braces together and rides it out: 5 damage taken. 💚 Purify the Font heals 12 as the dust settles.
🕯️ The wick is well down the oil. 2 more marches of light, then none.
A treasure chest sits in the room. It may hold gold; it may be a mimic. Somebody stacked supplies here and never came back for them.
They might have chosen to open it with Knock, or loot the treasure — Michael Sendivogius made the case: "If it bleeds on me, that's how I know it's working." The party chose to crack the crates open.
📦 The party cracks open stacked crates and barrels: 55 gold.
🕯️ The wick is well down the oil. 1 more march of light, then none. 🕳️ Michael Sendivogius finds a hidden door into the burial wing. Behind it: burial niches, most of them open. Its rooms join the route.
A trap blocks the corridor. The party must disarm it, avoid it, or take the hit. Half the ceiling is on the floor, in pieces worth stepping around.
They might have chosen to push through and take the hit, or search for a way around — Michael Maier made the case: "Don't burn the carcass — half my income is in the glands." The party chose to sift the rubble.
🪨 The party sifts a fall of rubble: 40 gold.
🕯️ The flame stands up, thins, and is gone. The party is out of oil.
A hidden vault, stacked with treasure. Vaults always hold something beyond coin. A sarcophagus stands against the wall with its lid slightly wrong. A portcullis hangs raised above the passage, on a chain that still turns.
They might have chosen to open it with Knock, or inspect it first — Pico della Mirandola made the case: "I asked permission for this spell. Twice." The party chose to loot the treasure.
💰 The party loots the chest: 174 gold. 🍀 Also in the hoard: a whetstone of surprising opinion (+1 attack), now worn by Pico della Mirandola.
🌑 The party gropes through the dark and pays for it: 3 damage to everyone. The Covetous will not leave a room unsearched, even blind. It costs them. The Bold walk the dark like a road they know. It costs them less than it should.
A rattling skeleton patrol holds the room (attack 12, health 28). The party must decide how to get past it. It will not face the cleric: undead take holy damage ×1.5. A brazier burns in its bracket — nobody has been here to feed it, and it burns anyway.
They might have chosen to stand and fight, or fall back — Marsilio Ficino made the case: "Candles first. Then courage." The party chose to turn the undead.
✨ The cleric turns the undead: a rattling skeleton patrol crumbles. +30 score. 🦴 A rattling skeleton patrol drops a femur of surprising balance: a trinket (+1 attack), now worn by Marsilio Ficino.
🌑 Another march by touch alone. Walls, edges, and things underfoot take 3 from each of them.
A library. The party can study here to learn spells. A brazier burns in its bracket — nobody has been here to feed it, and it burns anyway. Pillars break the room into aisles — something to fight behind.
They might have chosen to reconstruct his rounds, or question the ghost gently — Pico della Mirandola made the case: "Knowledge is treasure, but treasure is also treasure." The party chose to read the sealed texts.
🔏 The wizard reads the sealed texts: 2 spells learned, including a forbidden working. +50 score.
🌑 The dark is telling now. Everyone is bleeding somewhere they cannot see: 3 damage each.
A connecting corridor. Nothing blocks the way; the party moves through.
They might have chosen to speak with whatever wears the armour, or name the armour by its heraldry — Marsilio Ficino made the case: "Tithes flow both directions, technically." The party chose to put the armour down.
⚔️ Empty armour does dent like full armour, and hits back like it too. 4 damage, a great deal of noise, and the party comes out of it spread across the passage.
🌑 They have stopped calling it a march. 3 damage to everyone, again, and the hill goes on.
☠️ Michael Sendivogius falls. The party's fighter is dead; the 3 still standing march on.
☠️ Michael Maier falls. The party's alchemist is dead; the 2 still standing march on.
A rattling skeleton patrol holds the room (attack 12, health 28). The party must decide how to get past it. It will not face the cleric: undead take holy damage ×1.5. A silvered mirror leans against the wall, and it shows the room more honestly than the room does. Pillars break the room into aisles — something to fight behind.
There is no light left to decide anything by.
🌑 They have stopped calling it a march. 3 damage to everyone, again, and the hill goes on. The last of the party does not get up.
☠️ Michael Sendivogius falls. The party's fighter is dead; the 3 still standing march on.
☠️ Michael Maier falls. The party's alchemist is dead; the 2 still standing march on.
☠️ Pico della Mirandola falls. The party's wizard is dead; one of them is still standing.
☠️ Marsilio Ficino falls. The party's cleric is dead, and there is nobody left to carry them out.
The party is wiped out in the Old Delve. The dead: Michael Sendivogius, Michael Maier, Pico della Mirandola, Marsilio Ficino. Rooms cleared: 10. Trophies lost with them: 1 (latest: 🦴 a femur of surprising balance).
Regenerate this exact delve:
npm run simulate -- --seed log-nightmare-19