The Fall of Twist-Tail – Part 4: Snacks, Soda & Staplers

By Koldron’s flaming apron, I can’t believe they made it this far. At this point, they’ve been set on fire, tangled in chandeliers, paper-bombed by filing cabinets, and dropped off a rope bridge by a tabaxi gymnast with the combat instincts of a flying ladle.

And still, still they crawl forward — glowing, greasy, bruised, and dumb as ever.

You’d think one of 'em would’ve said, “Maybe Kitara shouldn’t be our trap monkey.” But no. They kept trusting the bendy one. And the price? Cursed soda, mimic rage, and a stapler golem with an attitude.

The Goblet’s Chamber, Almost

They finally reach the Goblet’s chamber — golden light, raised dais, shimmering prize on a pedestal. Only problem? The guardian’s a magical mime that mimics every movement they make.

Kitara grins. “I’ve got this.”

Now I shoulda stopped right there. Any sentence that starts with “I’ve got this,” and ends with a backbend, is gonna break bones or break hearts.

She steps up. Twists her arms behind her back. Folds her leg over her shoulder. Does a double-backflip and lands in a squat only cats and nightmares can manage.

The mime copies it all, entranced.

So far, so good.

Then she goes for the quadruple twist.

Ties herself into a knot, loses balance, and falls onto the mime. They both crash into the pedestal. The Goblet of Marginally Tastier Ale rolls off… and vanishes into a crack.

Gone.

The mime vanishes too.

Silence.

Jenkins, covered in dust, tweets, “Twist-Tail’s flexibility: 10/10. Usefulness: 0/10. #GobletGone.”

Grok tries to “retrieve object.”

Summons a turnip.

The Escape, Barely

The pedestal collapse triggers a ruin-wide tremor. Stone cracks. Walls shake. The whole place begins to fall in on itself.

“RUN!” someone yells.

Kitara, finally useful again, zig-zags through falling debris like a contortionist rat in a trap maze. She leads the way. The rest follow.

Then she overdoes it.

Backbends under a beam — and gets stuck. Right in the exit. Bent in half, tail flailing.

Jenkins, ever the helper, yells, “Nice one, Furry! #BendyBlockade,” and tries to pickpocket the beam. Why? Who knows.

Grok casts “Levitate” to lift the beam.

Lifts himself into the ceiling instead. BONK.

They eventually shove Kitara free like unjamming a furry cork, and spill out into daylight — covered in dust, shame, and what may or may not be enchanted turnip juice.

Spines Ain’t Keys, and Goblets Don’t Bounce

👉 If yer party thinks the solution to every puzzle is “have the bendy one contort on it,” ya deserve what’s comin’. For parties that actually survive dungeons, read about the rogue who doesn’t trip over his own tail, or build yer own logic trap in this dungeon here.

The Pit of Pointless Paperwork

Back on the surface, they collapse onto a trail — only to trigger one final trap. A pit. Filled with animated parchment screaming “SIGN ME!” in fifty languages.

Kitara, thinking redemption is one backbend away, dives in. Grabs a form mid-air like a furry swan.

For one glorious second, the pit falls silent.

Then she bounces back outta instinct — and does the splits midair.

The gust scatters the forms.

BOOM. Magical windstorm. Papers fly everywhere. The pit howls.

Jenkins, buried in documentation, yells, “Furry’s a paper-shredder! #DocumentDisaster.”

Grok tries to “Dispel Magic.” Turns the forms pink instead. Kitara flails in a pile of shredded bureaucracy, still hissing, “It’s KITARA!”

The Mimic Vending Machine

They stumble into the last hallway, only to find a vending machine labeled “QUEST SNACKS.” Suspicious, but Jenkins wants crisps. Of course he does.

Kitara steps forward.

“Let me handle this.”

She does a pirouette, a spinning elbow lock, a tail-flick flourish — and snags a snack.

The mimic pauses.

They stare. Hope rises.

Then she bends backward to pose and jams her tail in the coin slot.

The mimic screams. Spits stale biscuits everywhere. Begins to chase them.

Jenkins, dodging snacks, yells, “Nice one, Cat-Caller! #SnackAttack.”

Grok casts “Mage Hand” to grab a biscuit — slaps himself in the face.

Kitara, tangled in her own limbs, tumbles like a furry wheel down the hall.

The Ladder of Ludicrousness

The final room. A vertical shaft. One ladder.

Kitara, sore, scuffed, and determined, says, “I’m built for this.”

She climbs like a ribbon in the wind. Dodging dart traps. Flipping between rungs. The party’s cheering.

Then she does one last flourish — a double-twist across the top rung — and snaps it in half.

Ladder collapses.

Jenkins and Grok drop to the bottom.

Jenkins tweets, “Twist-Tail’s a ladder-killer! #ClimbingCatastrophe.”

Grok tries to cast “Feather Fall.” Only his boots float off. He lands with a squelch.

Kitara dangles upside down, hissing, “KITARA WHISPERWIND!”

One Part Left. No Goblet. No Dignity.

👉 By Durven’s last tankard, I ain’t seen a party fail upwards so hard in me life. There’s still one room left — one fake goblet, one stapler golem, and one final backbend of doom. Catch it in Part 5 when it drops. Or send yer own group disaster story to Mike’s inbox so I don’t feel so alone.