The Shrieking Outhouse
Smaller on the outside. A lot louder on the inside.
I Thought It Was a Toilet. It Screamed When I Opened It.
Now listen here, lad. I’ve been suckered into cursed dungeons, kissed by mimics, and once drank a potion labeled “probably not bees.” But nothin’ — I repeat, nothin’ — prepared me for the first time I opened The Shriekin’ Outhouse.
Looked like a regular loo. Half-rotted wood, bent moon carved in the door, buzzin’ with flies and shame. I opened the door with one hand and my belt already half-down — only to find five bars, three floors, a ceiling made of stars, and a halfling shoutin’ at a minotaur across a snooker table.
A banshee laughed in the corner. A jug band played polyrhythmic death metal. And a bartender made me a drink that insulted my mother.
I stayed three weeks. Never even used the toilet.
📌 Heard somethin’ giggle behind the privy door? That ain’t yer nerves.
👉 Step sideways into the Tavern Toolshed, or drop yer dreams down the contact chute and see if they echo back.
What Is This Bloody Place?
The Shriekin’ Outhouse is a bigger-on-the-inside, planar-adjacent anomaly disguised as the world’s saddest lavatory. Built by a trickster, or maybe born from one, it opens to reveal a multi-floor tavern that changes slightly every time the door swings wide.
Don’t ask how the plumbing works. It just does.
Don’t ask where the staff comes from. They don’t blink.
And if you ever see a seventh door appear behind the coat rack — don’t open it.
Exterior:
Looks like an outhouse. Smells like cedar and lies.
Randomly appears in remote roads, city alleys, dungeons, even dreams.
Disappears when ignored for too long.
Interior:
3–5 shifting floors, rarely in the same order
At least one room always has a fight in progress
Bar changes themes hourly: pirate cove, hellish jazz club, elven disco
Patrons vanish when you ask their names
Who’s Drinkin’ Here?
The Outhouse never empties. And that’s suspicious. Here’s a few folks yer party might spot — or become:
The Long-Timer — been here 40 years, never aged. Plays chess with ghosts. Never loses.
The Masked Trio — identical cloaked figures. Only one speaks. You never know which.
Varla Pinchgut — claims she owns the place. Also claims she’s a horse.
The Drink Named Dave — a sentient cocktail who demands to be consumed… correctly.
Adventure Hooks You Didn’t Flush Fast Enough
Toss yer players in and watch ‘em try to escape a tavern more sentient than polite.
A Door That Shouldn’t Be There: One night, a door appears labeled “REWRITE.” Behind it: an alternate version of one party member. Stronger. Meaner. Curious.
Time Slips: The bartender says they’ve seen your players before. Tomorrow.
Planar Shuffle: Every hour, the gravity tilts. New patrons arrive. Some don’t breathe air.
A Wedding Begins: A sudden wedding ceremony begins — and one of the players is the groom. Whether they like it or not.
By Trickin’s Cursed Coin Purse, That Ain’t a Lavatory
The Shriekin’ Outhouse is the perfect wildcard. Throw it in when your players need a rest, a shock, or a mystery that smells like cheap ale and existential dread. Play it light, or make it dangerous — this tavern shifts with yer tone.
👉 For more locations that lie to yer players’ eyes, visit the Tavern Toolshed, or drop yer head into the FAQ bin before it’s too late. Screamin’ optional.
FAQ
Q: Is the Outhouse always in the same place?
A: No. It wanders like a bard in heat. If yer lucky, you’ll find it. If yer unlucky, it finds you.
Q: Can it be destroyed?
A: You can try, lad. One adventurer detonated the whole hill it was sittin’ on. Tavern still showed up next week — in his pantry.
Q: Is the interior safe?
A: Safe? It’s got rules. Don’t break ‘em. Don’t look under the bar. And for the love of Durven’s last tankard, never ask what the special is.
