It piles up down there.

For when the adventurers take a moment out of their busy schedules for a bit of dumpster-diving, dungeon-style.

d12
1. Skulls, skulls, skulls
2. Decrepit ogre vagrant sleeps one off in shelter made from abundant stacks of pre-cut dungeon masonry
3. Crates and crates of ceramic bottles, all but a handful drained of imported fizzy energy beverage favored by puny humanoids, each worth 5 copper pieces if returned to big city distributor
4. Heaps of dented, punctured cans of anti-fungal concoction w/manufacturer's label, if residue painstakingly collected, enough to ruin a myconid's day
5. Barrels of fungal bits trimmed from unsightly outbreak blooms by dungeon maintenance crew breaking down into slurry of the foulest shit ever
6. Stack of crates filled with shards shattered wine bottles of shockingly posh, tasteful vintage
7. Jumble of oversize humanoid armor beyond repair/reclamation, chest plates burnt, pitted by dragon fire, bits of mail encrusted w/caustic pudding/ooze/slime, rent helmets, vambraces/greaves chewed to uselessness
8. Mothballed fleet of automatic dungeon go-carts gone to rust & rot under rotting tarpaulins, magic batteries utterly depleted, designed for single passenger + small payload to scoot around 10' corridors
9. Swarm of micro-puddings not looking for trouble but violently unwilling to share kitchen scraps
10. Box full of recently forbidden books earmarked for burning but nobody's gotten around to it yet
11. 1000 experimental monster-fodder sausages way past their sell-by date
12. Battering ram customized for dungeon use, declared obsolete since the sentient factions settled their differences