The Low Landing

You come in at the top, the way everyone does. Behind you the passage climbs toward a fall of rubble and stops; whatever was above has been shut a long time. The way on is down.

The near wall is close with marks — strokes cut and scratched and burned into the stone, grouped in fives, one set for every wanderer who has stood where you are standing and then gone on. There is room for yours. Someone has written, small, along the bottom: KEEP TO THE LEFT AND YOU WILL COME BACK HERE. It is not true. It was kindly meant.

Depth 0

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