The stair drops fast, then levels into a lower corridor slick with cold seepwater. Torchlight wavers along carved stone, and the air carries iron, ash, and something older, like buried rain.
F reaches the foot of the steps and stops at a long archway half-swallowed by moss. Beyond it, a narrow grotto opens around a black pool, its surface trembling with ember-bright reflections.
Torin
This was not on any map I found.
A low pulse rolls through the chamber, and the water answers with a faint shimmer. Along the far wall, a ring of old bronze chains hangs over a cracked stone dais.
F
The glow is coming from below the water.
The Watcher
You have arrived where thresholds remember.
Torin tightens near F, staring at the pool as if it might speak next. The air warms by a breath, and the hidden chamber waits, listening.