Temple of Traps, Honey, and Poor Decisions

(Filed under: Bugs, cults, traps, and unsolicited pixie commentary.)
 
Zardic had a lead on some old ruin. I tagged along. Two days through the woods. No idea who sent us, but the place was definitely cursed.
 
Deep in the forest, we found a sunken ziggurat, ancient and half-swallowed by trees. At the top: three statues—
 
A man holding scales and lightning
A child wrapped in snakes
A woman offering wheat
 
Zardic did puzzle things. Door opened. A dead hobgoblin was wedged inside like a warning sign.
 
Inside: ladder up, ladder down. I climbed up first. Got shot in the back by a bolt trap for my trouble. Zardic pulled it out—laughed the whole time. I kept going.
 
That’s when I heard a voice—someone asking for help. Said they were locked in a cage. We went down instead.
 
Zardic slipped off the ladder. No injuries. Just dignity loss.
 
Next chamber: four giant fire beetles. Two on the ceiling, two rushed us. I crushed mine, Zardic blasted his. Bug guts everywhere. Smelled like lightning and vinegar.
 
Tracked the voice to a cell. Inside: half-elf named Cy Anders. Claimed we should know him. We didn’t. Said his jailer in blue robes hadn’t shown up in days. We freed him.
 
Next room: jailer, dead. Cy kicked the corpse. Overhead: scourges clinging to the ceiling, sleeping. I snatched a bag of gems off the desk and got out without waking anything.
 
Further on: an old forge. Cult symbols on the fresco. Took a silver and orichalcum bar. Down the corridor, I triggered a blade trap—bad step, not the ingots. Realized the gem bag was a bag of holding mid-dodge. Rearranged everything. Felt blessed.
 
Ran into pixies—Wenly, Weenly, and Wally. Cy tried Elvish. They mocked him. I joined in. Gave them a bottle of rum—they dropped it and cackled. They've followed us ever since. I’m choosing to believe they’re allies.
 
Found a corpse coated in honey. I tasted it. Felt better. Bottled more using the rum bottle. Emergency paladin medicine.
 
Next: a cage of coins under a beehive. Tried to rip it open. Failed. Bees stared. We moved on.
 
Stumbled into a cult ceremony. Blue-robed figures with strange masks. Their leader, Kanadius, welcomed us like we were expected. Cy asked how they got the bees in the cage—turns out it’s food. Weird cult, weird rules.
 
Turns out the temple was once a city. It sank. They built on top. Then it sank again. Rinse, repeat. Now it’s layers of history and bad decisions.
 
Four groups in the ruins:
 
Followers of Gorm (the ones we met)
Cult of Zargon
Madarua’s warriors
Mages of Usamigaras
 
They offered us shelter for the night. Seemed peaceful. For now.
 
---
 
Inventory:
 
Boots: still blessed
Bag of Holding: confirmed
Honey bottle: healing-grade
Silver & orichalcum: one of each
Pixies: rude
Zardic: smug
Cy: suspicious
 
---
 
Closing Thoughts:
 
I got shot. Found a locked elf. Stole some relics. Befriended aggressive forest spirits.
Still not the weirdest day I’ve had.
 
(Still not a journal. This is divine recon. With garnish.)