CCVV-0212
| Dicey Dangers, The Creepy Creature of Vulture's Vineyard | Game by Joel Hills |
The Elite Destroyers in the way
The soft sounds of hammering and whispered bickering echo through the dungeon corridor as you approach. The light from your torch flickers across a curious scene. Before you stands the self-proclaimed Elite Destroyers, a group of small but determined figures hard at work constructing... something. At first glance, it looks like the beginnings of a crude trap, but the longer you observe, the more it becomes clear: it’s both entirely useless and potentially dangerous.
The leader of the group, a scrawny boy with wild hair sticking out from a mismatched helmet, notices you first. He puffs out his chest, gripping a stick that he has clearly fashioned into a "command rod." "You there!" he declares in a tone of mock authority. "Do not approach! You’ve stumbled upon the masterpiece of the Elite Destroyers, a trap so cunning and devious it would stump even the most seasoned adventurer!"
Behind him, his three companions are busy at work. One of them, a lanky girl armed with an assortment of tools that seem far too heavy for her, is hammering a board into place over a precariously balanced pile of loose stones and what looks like a rusted chandelier. Another member, a boy with thick glasses, is carefully tying a tripwire made of what might be dungeon cobwebs to a wooden plank. Finally, the youngest of the group—a tiny, freckle-faced child with an oversized hat—sits directly in the middle of the "trap," their legs swinging innocently. They hold a large, conspicuously shiny gold coin in their hand, waving it around with exaggerated gestures.
"It’s perfect, isn’t it?" the leader beams, gesturing grandly to their creation. "Any greedy fool who comes after the bait will trigger the wire, and then BAM!" He claps his hands together loudly, startling even his own teammates. "The chandelier will fall, the rocks will tumble, and the intruder will be utterly destroyed!"
You take a closer look. The trap... well, calling it "functional" would be generous. The chandelier is so rusted it’s unclear if it could actually fall even if triggered. The stones are balanced so precariously that a stiff breeze might collapse them prematurely. And the tripwire is barely taut, sagging in the middle like a tired vine. Yet somehow, the combination of these elements radiates a dangerous unpredictability. It’s the kind of disaster that could easily backfire on its creators.
The youngest child, blissfully unaware of the risk they’re in, waves the coin around again. "Look at this shiny coin!" they shout with as much drama as they can muster. "I bet you want it, huh? But you can’t have it, because our trap is—"
"Shush!" snaps the leader, who waves their stick at the child. "You’re supposed to look scared, not brag about the bait!"
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The Creepy Creature of Vulture's Vineyard | ******************************************************************************************************************************************** |