Tradition tells of an annual event among the Dungeon's languishing collective. At the advent of each full moon, fueled by heavenly light above, those with able bodies rise up and attempt to ascend from their sandstone hell, with only jetting ledges to guide them upwards. For every thousand to fail, there is one who succeeds, carrying on the faintest of hope for redemption as the next lunar cycle approaches.

But this is a tradition that does not apply to this particular dungeon.

Try not to become the freshest skeleton amidst the spikes while you're down here, hmm?

Map by BatElite