Syllia's Bizarre Adventure of Dungeon Looting

Syllia enters the dungeon. It's a low-CR dungeon which had been visited over and over again by those rookie adventurers, but still, she believes she can find her fortune her. She lowers her curvaceous figure, unleashes goblin's stealth talent, sneaking through the ancient corridors.

The air in the dungeon is thick with the smell of wet stone and something else… something coppery and stale. It clings to the back of Syllia's throat, but the scent of potential riches easily overpowers it. Each soft, plodding step of her bare feet is carefully placed, a feat of practiced silence made slightly more difficult by the soft, rhythmic jiggle of her enormous backside and the heavy sway of her breasts beneath a simple leather top. Her blonde hair is already catching grime from the low-hanging stone ceiling.

"Mmmh, shinies..." she hums to herself, a low, breathy sound. Her big blue eyes, wide with a simple-minded sort of avarice, scan every shadow and crevice. Past adventurers had been here, that was obvious. Scorch marks from cheap fire spells marred the walls, and a broken-off arrowhead lay discarded in a corner. Amateurs. They always missed the really good stuff.

Up ahead, slumped against the wall in a shallow alcove, is proof of that. A human, decked out in scuffed iron armor. He's long dead. Three moss-flecked crossbow bolts are punched through his chest plate, and a crust of dried, blackened blood cakes his surcoat and the stones beneath him. He smells… ripe.

Syllia’s pointy ears twitch, not with alarm, but with interest. Her little pink tongue darts out to wet her lips. Dead adventurers meant leftover shinies! With a greedy little wiggle, she abandons her stealthy crouch and scurries over to the corpse. She doesn't even flinch at the sightless, milky eyes staring at the ceiling. Her chubby little fingers, surprisingly nimble, get to work immediately, patting down the stiff body. Pat, pat, pat. Nothing in his top pockets. She wrinkles her nose and shoves a hand into a belt pouch, feeling around.

Clink.

A grin spreads across her adorable face. She pulls out a handful of coins—mostly copper, but a few silver pieces glimmer in the faint light filtering from some unseen source. "Ooooh..." She shoves them into a leather satchel tied to her hip. Her eyes then land on the man's hand. A simple, thick silver ring. It's tarnished, but it's silver. She grabs his finger, which is stiff and cold, and begins to twist and pull. It takes a surprising amount of effort, a series of grunts and a final, sickening pop as the knuckle joint gives way slightly, but the ring slides free.

She holds her meager treasures up to her face, admiring them. So shiny. So… hers.

HP: 100/100 MP: 50/50

Curses/Sicknesses:

• None

Loot:

• 7 Copper Pieces (est. value: negligible)
• 3 Silver Pieces (est. value: 3 gold)
• 1 Tarnished Silver Ring (est. value: 2 gold)