This is from a longer thing what I'm doing, but can basically be dumped anywhere you need a weird wizard-tower. Cool. Could be a nice hex filler?
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The Last Tower –
Rising still, each brick heavily engraved with warding sigils, the spirits of
longevity bound within so very tired. From anywhere nearby the top of the tower
glints, being made entirely of glass, containing something which seems to call,
call, call.
All floors of the tower show signs of very small cuts, everywhere.
This is from the golem on floor five.
1. The first floor contains mess and rot.
Many have used the base of the Last Tower as their camp, and something is
always left behind. A stone trapdoor leads to the basement of the Last Tower,
which is flooded, and filled with slime-encrusted black leeches, swirling about
in their foulsome pool. Eliminating them would allow you to search the basement
to no great effect, bar the corroded metal of prior unfortunates. There is an illusion here, which shows a
well-stocked larder, a trap designed to eliminate casual thieves and determined
adventurers alike. A set of stone steps curl up to the second floor. A slender
silver gate once blocked the way, but it has been successively torn to shreds
by passing mercenaries.
2. The second floor contains portraits, each
portrait framed in exquisite white-gold frames. A figure made of wooden
splinters hangs from the ceiling. This is the guardian of the room, who will
faithfully return the paintings if they are disturbed. Each painting depicts a
notable alumni of the college. All are very much alive, and will threaten to
blast you with magic should theft be attempted. There are several scorch marks
on the floor and walls attesting to the truth of this. Each can cause an
elemental blast dealing 5d6 damage once a day. If moved, the splinter golem
will replace them to their rightful place, harmless but endlessly
reconstructing itself. If stolen and survived, each painting is worth 6000sp.
The stairs continue to curl upwards.
3. The third floor is nearly bare, featuring
only a glyph set in gold into the floor. Reading the glyph, it is simply a
depiction of the creed of the college –
"A light amidst the dark"
The gold is animated to regrow when in
this room, and chipping out all of it is laborious and not worth the time
taken. 500sp for several days work.
4. The fourth floor contains three
sarcophagi, unmarked, constructed of frosted glass. Within each is a blind
woman, a bandage covering her face. The founder of the college decreed they be
kept here in perpetuity. Each is long dead but perfectly preserved, untouched
by time. This effect emanates from the sarcophagi, but only functions on the
women. Attempting to interfere with them or the sarcophagi will awaken the
golem on the floor above.
5. The fifth floor contains a golem,
constructed to resemble an octopus, each tentacle made up of razorblades. If
the women are undisturbed, it rests, hanging from the ceiling, swaying gently,
whistling as the blades slice the air. If they are distributed, it will
savagely kill everyone in the tower before weaving a new sarcophagus, gently
caressing the dead women with its razor blades. It cannot leave the tower
unless the women do.
HD 8 AC 18 +4 1D8 RAZOR SLASHES 1D10+1
MORALE 12
6. The sixth floor is the Assumed Mausoleum.
It marks the supposed death of the founder – he simply vanished and after
twenty years was assumed to be dead. All forms of divination have failed to
discover anything about what occurred, or her location. All of the goods here
are entirely false, and utterly worthless – unless you can convince the buyer
of their validity, in which case all the moveable wealth in the room (about a
wagon load) is worth 20000sp. It takes the form of exotic silks, precious metals
and gems.
7. The seventh floor is filled with star
charts, and set about with 4 great lenses, cunningly hidden to stop them being
visible from outside. Each one is pointed at a constellation of note:-
The first lens is directed at a
constellation which confers luck upon the first viewer, granting them advantage
on one roll of their choice. It must be spent within 6 days. The second viewer
has poor luck, as the constellation siphons their luck to the original viewer.
The GM may force them to roll again and take the lower result at any point for
the next 6 days.
The second lens is directed at a
constellation which looks really nice.
The third lens is directed at a
constellation which renders the first viewer idiotic (2 INT), the second blind
and the third deaf. The vampiric constellation feeds on such things.
The fourth lens is directed at no
constellation, revealing only inky blackness.
There are no stairs to the eight floor.
8. The eight floor is a chamber of glass, a
brilliant gem which randomly emits pulses of powerful, blinding light. (Every
d4 rounds). Holding it would burn the hands for 2d6 damage from the sheer
intensity of the light. It is an embryonic star, crystallised by unknown
processes. The chamber of glass refracts and mutes the light, acting as a
containment chamber. It could be worth 10000sp if transported.
