D&D General Maps, Maps, Maps! Dungeons, Ruins, Caverns, Temples, and more... aka Where Dyson Dumps His Maps.

Domur’s Refuge

Many a noble was forced to build redoubts and refuges as the great war progressed – places that they could hole up when the elves deployed magics of mass destruction, tearing down whole cities in revenge against those who dared to resist their rule. The dwarves were of great help, strengthening stonework against elven magic with their own artifices. After the war most of these underground structures were left half-abandoned – humans were not meant to live underground and instead they spread out across the world as elven power declined.

Domur’s Refuge is one of the smaller structures of this type – a complex of less than a dozen rooms with the only surface presence being a bunker-like stone protrusion from the hillside that the Refuge was cut into. The refuge was a last ditch defense structure where Lord Domur would send his immediate family along with some guards to watch over them. As such, the structure is mostly defensive – the bunker with arrow slits facing out of the hillside, a few guard rooms, a large hall for dining (and a very large kitchen, mostly pantry to last out a siege), barracks space; and private rooms for Domur’s family. The two private rooms have a secret passage between them that was originally supposed to connect to the escape passage, but at the last minute this was cancelled when a thrall assassin found the escape passage and stumbled into the barracks.

The 1200 dpi versions of the map were drawn at a scale of 300 pixels per square and are 9.600 x 9,600 pixels (32 x 32 squares) wide. To use this with a VTT you would need to resize the squares to either 70 pixels (for 5′ squares) or 140 pixels (for the recommended 10′ squares) – so resizing it to either 2,240 x 2,240 or 4,480 x 4,480, respectively.

Sparrow's Tower

Sparrow’s Tower is yet another ruin along the King’s Road with old dungeons cut into the ground beneath it. The tower itself is on the verge of collapse, and some day the whole thing will come down, sealing off the dungeons beneath. But for the time being the tower is home to a strange collection of large Lantern Moths. These massive moths have a three foot wingspan and their abdomens glow with drifting, candle-like flames. These moths are attracted to magic instead of light and flames and will swarm any magic-user that disturbs them. If allowed to ‘feed’, a swarm of about a dozen moths will eat one spell slot (starting with the lowest level slots) every round until they are somehow chased away or killed. There are at least 40 moths living in the shell of the tower during the day and hunting around it at night.

There are two means of accessing the lower levels beneath Sparrow’s Tower. The main staircase of the tower goes down to a small cellar under the tower; and the stairs in the ruined attached building lead down to its own more extensive cellar that used to be larger but the north end of it has collapsed completely. Both of these cellars have stairs down to an even deeper level below that connects to both.

While locals believe that some bandits have established themselves in these cellars, the truth is a little more bizarre. The ‘bandits’ are indeed thieves that have been grabbing food and valuables from the local farmers – but they are no normal thieves. The whole lower complex has been taken over by a gaze of very clever mutant raccoons. They will pretend to be normal raccoons when investigated, constantly running ahead of the adventurers to disguise their numbers. Only if they think they have the upper hand will they come together and attempt to trap the adventurers into a small room and bar the door. If driven to violence, the whole gaze will fall upon the adventurers, picking up weapons of opportunity as they do so.

The 1200 dpi versions of the map were drawn at a scale of 300 pixels per square and are 8,100 x 10,800 pixels (27 x 36 squares) wide. To use this with a VTT you would need to resize the squares to either 70 pixels (for 5′ squares) or 140 pixels (for the recommended 10′ squares) – so resizing it to either 1,890 x 2,520 or 3,780 x 5,040, respectively.

Grey Maw Cave

The farmers around Granite Hill speak in hushed tones of the Grey Maw Cave; quietly, with a glance over the shoulder, as if the cave itself might be listening. They say you can hear water rushing far below even on the stillest days, a thin, splashing and burbling noise like a phlegmatic creature breathing in its sleep.

Old Mara Tellen swears the cave was once a limestone wellspring that collapsed inward, leaving a sinkhole that “never stopped falling.” Her grandfather claimed he dropped a stone down the narrow throat at the bottom and never heard it land.

But Jory Pike tells a different story. He insists the water you hear isn’t underground at all. He claims it’s the echo of the Elvenflow, a river that once flowed over Granite Hill, long before the valley was settled. According to him, the cave remembers the river, and the sound is the memory leaking through.

Then there’s Bram Hald, who says the cave is deeper than any spelunker can say because it “doesn’t stay the same shape.” He claims the low, tight passage at the bottom wasn’t there when he was a boy, and that the cave “grows teeth” when it wants to keep people out.

Most folks don’t go near it. The entrance is harmless enough, but everyone knows the real danger lies where the ceiling drops low and the stone presses close. Down there, the Grey Maw narrows, and whatever waits in the dark prefers it that way.

Grey Maw Cave is indeed a little odd once you get down past that first bend beyond the sinkhole (where the cave ceiling drops to only 2 and a half feet above the floor). It opens up into a long cave with a small waterfall and stream flowing southwards, but the cave has a series of six perfectly straight round columns that reach from cave floor to ceiling. These are clearly not natural just by looking at the shape, but also don’t appear to be worked stone or masonry. It feels like someone or something created or moulded these columns magically but why remains a mystery.

Deeper into the cave is a small area made of worked stone covered in masonry. This area looks like it was once a shrine or temple to a goblin deity, although most would be surprised at the quality of the masonry. Except for the subject of worship, this looks too organized and too well built for a goblin shrine.

But naked humanoid footprints track dry mud through the temple, and seem to go down deeper into the caves…

Every month I try to release one map painted in watercolours like this one, and one in the classic "old school blue" format. Starting next month (March), these will be available exclusively to patrons on Patreon and will no longer be posted to the blog.

The 1200 dpi versions of the map were drawn at a scale of 300 pixels per square and are 9,000 x 7,200 pixels (30 x 24 squares). To use this with a VTT you would need to resize the squares to either 70 pixels (for 5′ squares) or 140 pixels (for the recommended 10′ squares that fit the furnishings shown) – so resizing it to either 2,100 x 1,680 or 4,200 x 3,360, respectively.

Mouser’s Deep

Mouser’s Deep clings to the stone like a scab on an old wound. An abandoned outpost of the Initiates of Cordun, carved in secrecy and left to the slow hunger of time. The Initiates once used this narrow, redoubt to watch over the cavern they named Mouser’s Cave, a limestone wound that descends in cold spirals toward the underdark. Though the Order is long scattered or slain, the place still feels inhabited. The walls remember.

The dungeon and the cave twist around each other like two creatures locked in a silent struggle. In three places the structures touch where stone corridors brushing against the hollow dark of the river‑cave, separated only by thin walls or cunningly placed vantage points. At the southern end, where the Initiates kept their closest watch, two such overlooks remain. To the east lies a broad chamber whose floor ends in a waist‑high parapet of pale stone. Beyond it yawns the cavern, the river’s faint roar rising from below like distant breath. Dust lies thick on the parapet, but the stone is worn smooth where generations of Initiates leaned to peer into the depths. Their vigilance has left a ghostly polish.

To the west stands the so‑called Tower; three stacked chambers built directly into the cavern wall. The lowest level is cramped and narrow, pierced by arrow slits that stare into the cave like lidless eyes. The middle level holds a single great window of crystalline material, nearly transparent yet unnervingly cold to the touch. It was said the Initiates could see more than mere stone and water through that pane—shapes moving in the deeper dark, allies or enemies or things without names. The topmost level opens directly into the cavern’s upper air, two great ten‑foot arches gazing down from near the ceiling. Wind moans through them now, though no wind should reach this far underground.

Where the dungeon crosses over the cave, a stone bridge spans the chasm. Its underside drips with condensation, and the river’s echoing murmur rises through the gap beneath. From the bridge’s eastern end, a natural descent winds downward along the cavern wall. A sloping path of slick limestone that leads down to the river‑cave proper. The Initiates used this route as needed, their boots carving shallow grooves into the stone that remain visible even now.

The cave itself begins far to the north, where a thin ribbon of icy water cuts through the limestone and begins its slow, relentless descent. It widens as it travels southward, gathering strength until it spills into a vast chamber dominated by a cold, black pool. From there, the river plunges deeper still, vanishing into the underdark through a jagged throat of stone.

The Order of Cordun once treated this river‑cave as a hidden road; a secret artery leading to their allies in the deep places. They trafficked with beings most surface folk would not name aloud: a pair of ancient aboleths whose memories stretched back before mortal kingdoms, and a deep dragon whose coils could encircle a house. When the Initiates needed counsel or power, they would descend the sloping path, step into the near‑freezing waters, and wade waist‑deep into the dark. Their torches guttered in the damp air, their breath steaming as they pressed on, climbing and slipping along the river’s course until the surface world was only a memory.

View attachment Mousers-Deep-Blue.png

Before Christmas, I was approached to do some commission work in the classic “old school blue” style of dungeon maps. I quickly ascertained that they were looking for a darker blue as used in most modern replicas as opposed to the true “non photo” blue used in the early D&D adventures. The plan going forward is to release at least one map with an old school blue variant every month (along with a full colour variant of another map each month). Starting in March, these variants will be released exclusively through my Patreon to supporters and will no longer be posted to my blog and social media (but the traditional B&W versions will still be available for free.)

The 1200 dpi versions of the map were drawn at a scale of 300 pixels per square and are 10,800 x 16,200 pixels (36 x 54 squares). To use this with a VTT you would need to resize the squares to either 70 pixels (for 5′ squares) or 140 pixels (for the recommended 10′ squares) – so resizing it to either 2,520 x 5,040 or 3,780 x 7,560, respectively.

Mouser’s Deep

Mouser’s Deep (300 dpi promo) Mouser’s Deep clings to the stone like a scab on an old wound. An abandoned outpost of the Initiates of Cordun, carved in secrecy and left to the slow hunger of …

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