Belly of the Beast

The primordial world serpent Apep long gnawed upon the roots of the Underworld until he choked on the sins of the living and died. Now he’s stinking up the place. There are many things that the world serpent swallowed: monuments, tyrants, cathedrals, martyrs, magic swords, sailing galleys. They’re all lying in the serpent’s belly, ready to be reclaimed. It’s like somebody took a museum of pre-recorded history and shoved it into a series of reeking subway train cars made of meat. To enter this level, climb through Apep’s jaws (remember, even dead snakes can still bite) and crawl down the tunnel of its esophagus into its spacious stomach chambers.

Sights

A litany of strange objects, from the miniscule to the monolithic, sits in about six inches of bile.

Sounds

The buzz of flies, the rumbling of digestion, and the slow dripping of fluids.

Smell and taste

A sweet stench, but not entirely rotten—akin to the formaldehyde-soaked frogs you dissected in high school.

Lighting

None.

Structures

Tunnel-like passages, usually about 15’ high and 15’ wide. Walls and ceilings are made of tissue and cartilage. Doors, such as they are, are valves and sphincters.

Common monsters

Melancholic Imps, Dire Tapeworms, Dire Rats, Hellflies, Skeleton Jellies, Green Slimes, Various Stomach Prisoners

Dungeon lord

The Still-Beating Heart