Wait, WAIT…hold up.

Let me get this straight: the characters are about to explore the cellar of an ancient ruined manor where:

1. Restless dead controlled by an eeevil mage guard the crypts adjacent to a
2. Crevasse which emits a “faint aura of necromancy,” which is inhabited by a
3. Cursed acanist who has been transformed into a hideous, telepathic “eye monster” who, by the way, has come to a friendly arrangement with the
4. Aforementioned eeevil mage who has established residency in the cellar below Tresendar Manor, for the purpose of brewing potions in the comfort and privacy of his very own
5. Eeevil wizard’s laboratory, all the while scheming with yet another
6. Eeevil mage on a larger plot, likely for the purposes of enriching himself and ascending to greater arcane power.

It’s times like this I wish I wore glasses, just so I could take them off, rub the bridge of my nose for a long, dramatic pause before looking to the game designers and explaining in a strained, but patient tone that “folks, this is not a Redbrand hideout. It is, in fact, an evil wizard’s abode.”

With that in mind, let’s finish out February retrofitting the Redbrand Hideout with some elements that make it impossible to think of Tresendar Manor’s lower level as anything but an Eeevil Wizard’s Abode.

But before we get to that, I want a satisfying answer for why Iarno Albrek, agent of The Lords’ Alliance, forsakes his duty to the alliance in order to partner with Nezznar, The Black Spider.

Surely there were correspondences, meetings, and assurances between the two that eventually corrupted Albrek. Yes, there was the gift of a magical staff, but I’d think a substantial gift like a Staff of Defense was a reward for Albrek’s governance of Phandalin from the shadows, rather than something that was used to slowly bend the young wizard toward evil.

Perhaps wizards who become friendly are keen on gifting obscure things to each other. Maybe its knowledge of monstrous denizens, or books with histories unremembered, or scrolls with arcane teachings, or weird oddities that only a wizard or hag would nerd out on.

It’s the latter that I think would be fun to retrofit Tresendar Manor’s cellar with. You know who would think a gelatinous cube is really cool?

A wizard would think a gelatinous cube is really cool.

Of course, you don’t just show up to a frontier town like Phandalin with a gelatinous cube measuring anywhere between 10​ to ​15 feet on a side and weighing as much as 50,000 pounds. Even fantasy has it’s limits, people!

But what if in the early stages of their bromance, Nezznar gifted Albrek a “budding” (a small, juvenile gelatinous cube), with instructions to place it in a well or pit somewhere within the manor’s cellar, feed it organic matter often, and then watch the cube grow into a formidable defense for his abode, among other things.

Intimidate the subject of an interrogation? Gelatinous cube.

Dispose of a body? Gelatinous cube.

HR problems? Gelatinous cube.

Clean floors? Gelatinous cube.

The cistern in the manor’s cellar (area 1) would the perfect place to cultivate such a creature. When it grows large enough to level with the lip of the cistern (a depth of 10 feet) you’d know you have an adult gelatinous cube. And, with its colorless, transparent appearance, it could be cunningly hidden beneath the surface of the water in the cistern.

Getting toppled into a cistern full of water is a fun flourish to work into a combat. But getting shoved into a cistern with shallow water at the top, and a gelatinous cube at the bottom? That’s an experience your table is unlikely to forget.

Tomorrow, let’s talk about that pit trap in Area 3: Trapped Hall

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