The Cold Hall

A slow drip somewhere out of sight keeps time, patiently, with nothing. The space opens out into a great open hall, roughly 3 by 4 paces. A lantern bracket juts from the wall, empty and rusted through. A boat — if it was a boat — has rotted to a rib-cage of grey wood against the far wall.

Depth 5

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