The Culverted Walkway

The brick overhead is so low and so wet that it drips on the back of your neck. The passage goes some way and then doglegs; 6 paces in all. A drift of gravel lies against the wall in long ridges, combed by the last water to pass. A brass plate on the wall once said something; the verdigris has eaten all but the last word, FLOW.

Depth 42.

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.