Sinkholes might open up unexpectedly, leading Southlands adventurers into new areas—and into interesting situations. You can roll randomly for a result below, or use the handy number provided with each entry to figure out your result on a d12. You can also pick the one that works for the area in which your characters currently linger.
- The net in which you land looks like it was formed from the wrappings of mummies, but they’re also sticky like you’d expect a spider’s web to be. What manner of creatures live down here?
- Your landing is softened somewhat by the numerous layers of papyrus and other materials that provide writing surfaces. Was this area once a repository of learning?
- Glowing illustrations of all manner of ways to kill someone line the walls of the chamber into which you’ve fallen.
- Words form in front of your eyes, showing your thoughts in glowing colors.
- You fall into the rounded spiral of a shell, nearing the center of it before you can stop yourself. What manner of creature left this vestige of itself out here?
- The plants here are singing. Or maybe touching them is causing hallucinations. You’re not entirely sure. Whatever is going on, you feel all warm and fuzzy around the edges now.
- The glowing form of a human child beckons you onward. What does she plan to show you? And are those batlike wings on her back? Wait, they’re gone now, leaving behind only the child’s form. You must have knocked your head harder than you thought.
- The little alcoves that line the walls here are filled with spiky, scuttling things that are starting to converge upon you. They seem to be waiting for you to do something.
- The walls glitter with metallic colors. Lights from hovering spheres start glowing more brightly, making it harder and harder not to squint as it grows more and more intense and reflects off the shiny, glittered walls.
- A table with a simple and warm meal awaits you.
- Someone likes to collect the stingers of scorpions and hang them about the area. Are they still poisonous?
- A leather backpack rests in the middle of the area. All that remains in it is this scrawled letter fragment: “…remember the ten-foot pole I gave you.”