I almost choked on my coffee, Scras.
I know thatafew of my players would never willingly give up the belt, screaming "My precioussss!" even as they would be drawn into the munchkin - prison.
I can picture Cthulu coming over and saying: "Mortal, I curse you with ... this!"
This reminds us of an often forgotten truth:
A warrior should not fight just for the fighting itself.
A thief should not steal and backstab just because he can.
A mage's quest for power should not be only about gaining said power, but using it to furter a goal.
A priest should first of all serve his go, and then himself. An honest prayer is worth more than a smitten disbeliever. Go to Comment
"Soon they find themselves drawn to a distant location, one that their compatriots might follow them to."
Might? By the time the Munchkin Land Curse kicks in, the other PCs have probably used either magical copying techniques or old-fashioned GM-badgering to get Munchkin Belts of their own (it's contagious, in my admittedly limited experience). So they'll be following the first munchkin, all right... and then you can start over with brand new PCs...
...wait. That's a feature, not a bug. Good thinking. Go to Comment
Added some more information for the feel of the city, mostly the description of how the buildings have aged.
Some other things to add without editing the post again.
Smells - the city reeks of old wood, mildew and rot. There are alot of dark, wet places for the stuff to grow. Remaining foodstocks rotted and offered ample sustainence to fungus and such. Some buildings could be eaten with corpseweed fungus, making them dangerous.
Sounds - creaks and groans, settling stone, and the occassional crash as a load bearing beam finally surrenders to the forces of erosion and entropy. Some places while have more severe damage, sections burned out, others washed away by occassional torrential rains, and other bad weather.
Texture - The ruined city should feel gritty, but with a slimy consistency underneath, like picking up a piece of wood that has lain in the forest for years and what was once hard enough to crack a mans skull is now soft enough to crumble in the palm of your hand. Go to Comment