
— Edward Coley Burne-Jones, late 19th century
I’m once again hopping on the blog bandwagon. As my drafts folder bulges like a large sack full of 601 coins, I’m happy to have a deadline and an excuse to post something silly and unpolished.
My first ever post to this blog was a table of 100 dungeon entrances. I haven’t written another such table since, though I’ve been meaning to. I have no idea how ktrey of d4 Caltrops writes multiple in a week. Something that surprised me the first time around was that my favorite entries all came to me towards the end of the process—only after I felt I’d exhausted all inspiration. There’s something to be said for generating a bunch of related ideas; once the obvious stuff is out of the way, it’s easier to get weird and creative.
Anyway, without further ado:
You Fall Down a Hole And…
- Bounce off several cushiony shelf mushrooms before settling onto a fungal floor.
- Straight into quicksand.
- Into a giant-sized pumpkin pie, which rests on a giant’s dining room table.
- Into a pool full of bioluminescent plankton. You’ll glow bright blue for an hour.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but you hear the click of a pressure plate when you land.
- Into an exquisitely-tiled communal bath.
- Die.
- Die—only to be belched forth from a nearby bog at dawn, sodden and diminished, but alive.
- Into a nest of giant burrowing owls.
- Right back out again—it’s the threshold of a reverse gravity field.
- Into a giant spiderweb—unharmed, for now.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but the top closes over you. You’re separated from your party on a different level of the dungeon.
- Into a gelatinous cube.
- Into a cube of gelatin. It’s harmless but impervious to everything except biting. To free you, someone (or something) will need to eat the gelatin around you.
- Through the velvet canopy of an opulent bed, launching its occupant from the mattress.
- No one can knowingly aid in your rescue.
- Into an underground river.
- Become lodged at the point where it narrows not too far down.
- Into a colony of giant ants.
- Into the earth’s hollow center, where you of course find dinosaurs and an ancient civilization.
- Find a door at the bottom. Opening the door causes the ceiling above the hole to gradually descend.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but the top closes over you: it’s a magic mouth, and it wants the password.
- Into a vat containing a mutagenic slurry.
- Get shot back out again by a geyser.
- Plummet cartoonishly through a series of goblin clotheslines until you land in a heap of goblin laundry in the middle of a goblin market.
- Turn into a bat before you hit the ground.
- Into a pit filled with skeletons. They won’t hurt you but will do everything they can to prevent you from leaving.
- Into another dimension.
- Become lodged in a fleshy sphincter. You’ll need to relax it to escape.
- Into the weird, backwards, upside-down version of the previous dungeon level.
- Into a pixie lair. They snuff torches and lanterns until you make amends.
- Just keep falling. How to make it stop?
- Into a trash compactor. The walls are slowly closing in.
- Onto a heap of dilapidated carpets and tapestries. Moths swarm the air and will eat any fiber or textile (including ropes).
- Die—every 24 hours, you reappear, alive, at the lip of the hole and fall to your death again.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but it is weirdly dark. For the next hour, you can only see in near-total darkness.
- Out of another hole elsewhere in the dungeon.
- Land upon a straw pallet in a prison cell.
- The emaciated, half-mad sorcerer at the bottom slows your fall with magic.
- Into a sewer.
- Onto a comically large (and deafeningly loud) drum. Its peals echo through the dungeon.
- Land in the palm of a colossal hand.
- Land safely in water, but a blade scythes through the shaft above at regular intervals, severing ropes and slaying climbers.
- To get out again, you must leave a memory behind.
- The hole expands to swallow the entire dungeon.
- There’s a Rough Collie at the bottom.
- It’s actually really nice down there—so nice that you don’t want to leave.
- Into piranha-infested water.
- Into a net. You’re completely entangled, and small bells strewn from the net clang erratically to alert whatever laid this trap.
- Into the depths of hell.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but a powerful adhesive coats its bottom.
- Die—that is, until someone else falls into the hole, at which time you are expelled from its depths, right as rain.
- Into a witch’s cauldron.
- Get sucked through a twisting chute before being dumped unceremoniously in another part of the dungeon.
- A reverse gravity field about halfway down slows your descent so that you may catch a convenient handrail at the “bottom.”
- Into a cenote.
- Onto a mossy heap. Mushrooms grow all along the sides of the shaft above you and release toxic spores when disturbed.
- Into a safety net prepared by a group of rival explorers who are also trapped and all insist on being rescued before you.
- Into a giant fondue fountain.
- Into a crater on the moon.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but everything in the hole weighs several times its normal weight.
- Into the cockpit of a boring machine.
- Into deep water. A grate seals off the shaft above you, and the water begins to rise.
- It forms a sort of Klein bottle with the associated room or corridor.
- Into an iridescent slime that imbues a reverse gravity effect on whatever it touches for one day.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but contains a puddle of liquid with a stench that attracts monsters.
- Die—only to awaken in a new body at dawn.
- Down a waterslide, Goonies-style.
- Into a snowdrift.
- Into the midst of a dark ritual.
- Lurch awake in bed, certain that your companions are still in the dungeon.
- Into the pitcher of a massive carniverous plant.
- Onto a patch of cushiony mushrooms with soporific spores.
- Get drawn by a strong current through a series of water-filled chutes until you emerge in the well of the nearest town.
- Into a cauldron of soup. The attendant cooks aren’t pleased.
- Into a mass of vines that slowly begin to constrict you.
- It’s actually the nostril of a colossal beast. Make it sneeze to escape.
- Into a superchilled liquid, freezing solid within moments. You’ll be unharmed if rescued and thawed.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but the top closes over you: it’s a magic mouth, and it wants to hear how another magic mouth elsewhere in the dungeon is doing.
- Land safely in a pile of hay. Everyone above, however, perceives your issusory death.
- Emerge from a hole in the ground next spring.
- Into an underground lake.
- Into the mouth of a colossal herbivore. It carries you in its mouth for a while before spitting you out elsewhere in the dungeon.
- Into the faerie realm.
- Land chest-deep in sticky mud.
- Experience acute déjà vu.
- A talking skull at the bottom offers to grant a wish if you take it with you.
- You emerge impossibly clean.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but your bones are jelly as long as you’re in the hole.
- Onto the back of a colossal bat in mid-flight. It will swoop deeper into the dungeon before shaking you off.
- Into a hobbit’s fireplace.
- Into a pit of venemous snakes.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but the top closes over you: it’s a magic mouth, and it wants you to feed it something delicious.
- Die—until horses and men in service of the king reassemble your scattered fragments.
- Into a net, your weight causing a grate to seal off the shaft above you.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but it is incredibly magnetic.
- Land in a bramble bush, tangled up but remarkably without so much as a scratch. Better keep still, though: the thorns appear wickedly sharp and quite poisonous.
- It seems perfectly shaped to fit a massive key.
- Into a pool of acid that only dissolves inorganic matter.
- It’s not that deep, actually, but—unbeknownst to you and your companions—you landed one hour into the future.

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