Continuing deeper into the labyrinth of the “Dungeon Master,” the group encountered a long narrow hallway that was an opening to a maze. It was that was populated by wispy strips of dark plastic. While the strips themselves were unremarkable, they undoubtedly were meant to obscure all manner of traps and hazards along the corridor. Venturing carefully, Montana and the other managed to avoid or disable the worst of the obstacles, but not before they spied a flowing amorphous mass gliding across the ceiling.
The thing dropped into the darkness ahead, and then placidly introduced itself in a watery voice. Unsure how to react, the group humored the conversation and found themselves in parley with a strange being. The creature, which was an apologetic alien—with a liquid mass as a body and a disregard for the conventional dining standards of earthlings—introduced itself as Mr. Johnson.
It revealed it had been living down here for quite some time, even since the time when the Dungeon Master was present. Mr. Johnson, a Miami Vice fan, had been the dungeon’s cleanup crew, eating the bodies of fallen adventurers.
Mr. Johnson seemed unaggressive and even receptive to working together for rewards of foodstuffs, so with a little coaxing agreed to help in whatever manner it could, so long as it didn’t present itself to obvious danger. Its flowing oozing body was useful to maneuver into spaces where it could scout ahead and find alternate routes, and it had a knowledge of the various workings and happenings of the “dungeon” itself.
Further down the path, the group found a trap door in the floor, but no one fell in. Farther down the corridor, they say twin red glowing lights in the darkness. Mr. Johnson went ahead and reported back that it was a robotic guardian, made up to resemble a black knight. The automaton stirred to life with a singular purpose: to thwart the advances of those that would venture deeper, but stood passively and patiently in place, goading the intruders that they would never pass.
Montana noticed it was plugged into a power source, and got the idea to sever the cord from afar with a well-placed gunshot, and this eventually spurred the guardian to go on the attack, with fairly alarming foot speed. The group retreated to the hall hoping to gain an advantage against the robot; turn the traps against it perhaps, but alas as part of the dungeon itself it had an awareness of all its hidden dangers. A short standoff turned into a extended melee, as the black knight’s superior resilience weathered countless attacks, even resisting bolts from the ray gun until the gun itself malfunctioned and became a smoking wreck. Programmed with a peculiarly honorable nature, it chose to engage Junpei in hand-to-hand attacks simply to fight on the “same level.” Eventually the guardian was felled, and pushed into the junk pits below the trapdoor.
The group finally reached the sealed door to the Dungeon Master’s chamber, and after some handy tinkering, the group was inside. Unfortunately a final unintended challenge awaited, as the chamber was flooded with methane gas that made it unsuitable for entry without special breathing equipment. Fortunately time was not an enemy and the group simply waited for the gas to dissipate. Between the chamber and scavenging the junk pit, some notable spoils were had, not the least of which being the Bestiary book that was a part of the Black Moor’s collection. The group allowed Mr. Johnson to retrieve his personal effects as was agreed upon, and let him go about his business, free to roam the world after decades of being sealed away. The group did ask him to avoid eating human beings when he was out in the world.
Junpei explored the depths under the trap door and found a watery expanse, and various items, mostly corroded or otherwise damaged. There was an interesting cybernetic eye and two slightly rusted energy pistols that looked potentially useful. Mr. Johnson explained that there might be other interesting items under the water.