The Mossed Great-Tank

A smell of wet iron and old leaves hangs in the air, and does not move. You are in a chamber of some size: 5 paces one way and 5 paces the other. The room bends round on itself, and the far arm is out of sight until you reach the corner. A great sieve hangs from the ceiling on chains, as wide as the room. A cracked earthenware pipe sticks out of the wall and drips a steady thread onto a worn stone. Water trickles behind the brick, loud, then quiet, like a tap turned by an unsteady hand.

Depth 16.

First charted by Wanderer #1.

You are reading the dungeon, not walking it. Rooms are only created by people, and only from inside the maze.