Dodge Tanner’s Highly Unrecommended Travelogue - #127: The Worst Salad Ever

With wide, dazzled eyes, Dodge stared at the small pile of glittering gemstones nestled in the heart of the jungle clearing, the map on which he was carefully charting landmarks forgotten in his grasp.

Sapphires. Emeralds. Rubies. All in a pile. Just sitting there. Alone. Unclaimed.

Dodge was not a fool.

No, he was a well seasoned adventurer, a brilliant tactician, a man of experience and means...

And that’s why, when he spotted a glittering pile of gemstones just lying in the middle of the clearing, unprotected and unclaimed, he immediately knew it was a gift from the gods meant for him alone.

Now this is the kind of reward he deserved for his selfless efforts to map out the jungle paths for the guild. Sure, he'd not volunteered and had needed to be ordered, then dragged out of his comfy home, and then escorted out of town to enforce the demand. Truly selfless! “Oh. Yes! Come to Uncle Dodge!" Dodge whispered, his hands unconsciously clasping at air in the need to hold his new precious gems as he approached. “See, THIS is what happens when fate finally decides to repay my suffering.”

He took one step forward. Then another. His hand reaching out to touch the beautiful, veiny, leaflike, texture of the gems. Wait... Veiny? Leaflike?!?

Then the gems, his lovely sweet gems!, attacked.

It was instantaneous—a whipping lash of thorned tendrils snapping from the undergrowth in all directions, coiling around Dodge’s arms, legs, and very unfortunate midsection before he could even scream properly as the entire clearing suddenly became anything but clear.

His rapier fell from his grip, his buckler was wrenched tight against his chest, and suddenly—he was airborne, hoisted toward the towering open maw of blooms that had just been lovely brilliant gems a second ago.

And now?

Now it was teeth. Rows of teeth. A Cavern of teeth. Why would anyone be ok with plants with teeth?

And it was salivating.

Dodge struggled violently, kicking wildly as the Glimmertrap tightened its hold, vines flexing like the world’s most uninviting salad bar.

“I REFUSE to be eaten by a salad!” he shrieked, thrashing, completely bereft of dignity. “I don’t even eat salad! Salads should be what MY food eats!”

The plant, indifferent to his completely reasonable argument, flexed its vines, pulling Dodge closer—closer to the wide, gaping maw, lined with curling, razor-edged thorns.

And then, the smell hit.

See, Dodge had, surely due to a terrible oversight by that useless good for nothing Wayfinder Quartermaster Bream, been terribly, abusively, un-humanitarianly, poorly provisioned for this journey.

His rations? Impossibly dry biscuits that could double as building materials or road stones.

His protein? Outrageously over-salted pork that could last a millennia and mummify a man just for sitting too close to someone attempting to eat it.

And at that moment... pressed against his back, crushed by the tightening vines—the pouch burst open.

A wave of stale crumbs and salt-packed meat tumbled into the Glimmertrap’s hungry maw—directly into its digestive core.

And the reaction was immediate.

With a violent heave, the plant spat Dodge out like a particularly displeased tavern keeper and would his third least favorite drunk.

He tumbled through the air, smacking against roots, vines, and bouncing across a very unfortunately positioned treestump before landing face-first in the dirt.

Spitting out dust, slightly bruised, but miraculously intact, Dodge staggered upright, eyeing the Glimmertrap as it recoiled, its petals curling inward in deep, disgusted rejection.

And then Dodge noticed something lying next to him in the grass.

A single delicate, shimmering petal, ripped free in the struggle, now rested beside him—a rare Glimmertrap bloom, known for its powerful illusion-empowering properties.

Dodge stared at it.

Then grinned wildly.

And that, my fair Wayfinders to be, is the story of how Dodge Tanner, through equal parts innocent greedy intentions, truly inedible rations, and sheer brilliantly dumb luck, almost became a side salad, but somehow, walked away with a treasure instead.

***

The Glimmertrap

(Looks like an easy score, feels like free money, ends like the wrong side of dinner.)

Glimmertrap: A deceptive predator disguised as a prize, this insidious plant lures adventurers with its treasure-mimicking bloom—a cluster of gem-like petals shining with unnatural brilliance. As soon as greedy hands reach for the bait, coiling vines spring to life, dragging victims into its grasp with a strength that belies its delicate appearance. The more they struggle, the tighter it holds, its thorned tendrils covered in barbs coated with a poison that doesn't stop its victims from feeling their pain, it just stops their interest in doing anything about it and leaves them sighing and blinking as their eyes grow dim and they are stuffed down the Glimmertrap's toothy maw.

Advice: If you encounter a a pile of gems just sitting there for the taking, admire from afar and keep your hands to yourself. No treasure is worth suffocation by the Glimmertrap's poisoned vines. If you must retrieve an item near one, use a long stick, fire, or ideally, someone else’s hand. If the vines touch you, congratulations—you are officially the bait now. Hope you enjoy being a decorative addition!