The Dungeon doesn’t appear in any discernible pattern, even after rigorous study by the brightest minds. There’s a single place in the world where it’s ever-present: underneath Dungeon Town. One is advised to watch their step on the approach— an errant stride could send one falling into it headfirst.
Miles of dungeons twist underneath Dungeon Town’s mishmash of improvised scaffolding, tents, and wagons. The site is a quagmire of dozens of entrances. Architecture, monsters, and otherworldly magic tangle around and back over themselves. One might be navigating an animated hedge maze, then take a right turn to see a log flume floating on a lazy river of boiling oil. Chaos is always underfoot within the limits of Dungeon Town.
Dungeon Town is a nickname more than the formal title of a jurisdiction. This semi-permanent expedition consists of archaeologists, Dungeoneers, arcanists, and whatever delver caravans happen to stop there on their way elsewhere. Most are sure to do so; the site has attracted a thriving marketplace of merchant stands and tourist attractions. The town is a mix of carnival and trade show and ultimate challenge for visiting delvers. Crews splitting up have taken to using “see you in Dungeon Town” as a farewell, which often turns out to be true.
Of course, not everyone treats the place like an amusement or business opportunity. The Dungeoneers, whose field of study (and nigh-religious fascination) is always a few steps or shovel thrusts away here. Among other researchers, they attempt to glean knowledge from its depths while doing their best not to rouse the ire of the threats that lie within its infinite maze.