Nov 12, 2015 6:20 pm
The hallway winds along for another fifty feet, and opens up into a comfortably sized room with three exits opposite where you enter. Before you, a gyrosphinx squats behind a free-form desk in the middle of the three-way fork. The sphinx is rather mangy and bedraggled, her hair in tangles. She is filing her nails, appearing thoroughly bored. As you approach she looks up, and in a monotone voice belonging to what must be the most bored receptionist in all the realm, she says "Welcome to White Plume Mountain. Can I help you?"