The Red Tape of Death
by Reverend Dungeon MasterWell, well, well, look who's back in another dungeon, searching for treasure like a toddler rifling through a stranger’s purse. You’ve hacked through goblins, sidestepped traps, and now stand before a grand obsidian door marked with ominous runes. It practically screams, "Hey, poke your nose in here, nothing bad will happen!"
Inside, rows of flickering torches cast deep shadows across a vast chamber filled with thousands of neatly organized, alphabetized scrolls. A massive Pit Fiend sits hunched behind an ornate desk, absently chewing on the leg of some unfortunate adventurer. It peers up from a towering stack of parchment, sighing deeply.
"Ah. More looters. Splendid."
It picks up a quill and scribbles something onto a scroll.
"You'll need to fill out Form 66-B for unlawful intrusion into a Fiendish Archive, followed by a Waiver of Torture, and of course, the Standard Agreement of Eternal Soul Forfeiture. But since you all look incredibly dense, we can skip to the murder part."
It cracks its knuckles. They sound like bones snapping underwater.
The Monster: Pit Fiend, Senior Bureaucrat of the Nine Hells
AC: -3
HD: 13
HP: 68
MV: 90’ (30’)
THAC0: 7
Attacks: 2 Claws (1d6+4), Bite (2d6+4), Tail (3d6), or Fireball (20' radius, 10d6 damage)
Special: Can cast Hold Person, Invisibility, and Wall of Fire at will. Oh, and it regenerates. Slowly. Because paperwork.
Morale: 11 (This fiend is dedicated to its job and will NOT quit ever.)
Alignment: Chaotic Evil (also a licensed notary)
Tactics: You’re Already Dead, But Let’s Play This Out
Round One: The Pit Fiend sighs deeply and lazily casts Hold Person on the two most annoying-looking members of your party. (Yes, it can tell.)
Round Two: If nobody has exploded yet, it casually hurls a Fireball across the room while muttering about budget cuts. The walls blacken. The cleric regrets their life choices.
Round Three: If you’re still moving, it goes full melee, clawing, biting, and whipping its tail in a display of violence that is both horrifying and strangely bureaucratic.
If Reduced to 20 HP or Less
The Pit Fiend pauses mid-attack and mutters, "You know what? I’ve got three overdue reports to file by sundown, and I do not have time for this nonsense."
At this point, it attempts to negotiate, offering:
A forged diplomatic pass that allows safe travel through some parts of the Nine Hells (expiration date: one week ago).
A contract guaranteeing the party’s souls remain their own (in print so small you’d need a Wish spell to read the fine print).
A mysterious iron key that "definitely isn’t cursed" (spoiler: it totally is).
If the party rejects this offer, it fights to the bitter end.
Treasure & XP
If You Actually Win (Doubtful):
20,000 GP stored in ledger books, requiring a three-day processing period to access.
A magic quill that can forge any signature flawlessly.
The Official Scroll of Infernal Bureaucracy (allows one free use of Commune per month but also summons a minor devil to complain about your paperwork).
The Pit Fiend’s Personal Planner, which contains forbidden knowledge, three Hellish stock tips, and a breakfast burrito recipe (the secret sauce is human blood).
XP Reward: 9,500 XP and the sudden realization that Hell is just one big office job.
Art: Pit Fiend by the-murdellicious on DeviantArt
