Dilapidated Cabin
(I've been reading Wellman)
Less than a day's hike up the mountain from Thunder Spike, hidden in a tight cluster of black pines, an ancient windowless cabin made of moss-covered vertical logs. Its door hangs askew, seeming to dangle from one leather hinge, though it feels sturdy enough when pulled open, and closes firmly enough. The door will quietly shut by itself if left unattended and remain sealed unless opened by a chaotic character, or until the house takes 5 HD of damage.
When lawful characters look inside, they see a small, cozy shack, with a thick fur rug, and a comfortable bed, table and chairs, scented with the richness of the roast gamebirds on a spit over the crackling fire. The filthy hammock hanging near the ceiling detracts from the atmosphere, and the observant will note that there was no chimney on the outside of the house, but otherwise this illusion stands up to close scrutiny.
Chaotic characters see the cabin for what it is, walls of prickly pink flesh, tongue-like protrusions where others see furniture, and a stifling, rot-scented heat that doesn't seem to have a source. Under the rug-tongue is a pit containing a pile of bones soaking in a yellow caustic fluid. Beneath the bones is a clay cookie jar shaped like a pig which contains 1200sp and a scroll of protection from fungi, spores and poisons.
Each character can explore the house for one turn per point of constitution before succumbing to the warmth and falling asleep. Once everyone inside is asleep, the caustic fluid will rise, flooding the room to just below the hammock. Submerged in the fluid, a human's flesh dissolves from their bones over the course of eight hours.
The house is a Gardinel (HD 10, AC as None, ATK 4×Pseudopod, DMG 2d6, MV 0')
Bearded Mystic Volian Ulot sleeps here in the evening along with his pet giant possum. He feeds the gardinel credulous travellers and vagrants in exchange for a roof.