The last crimson threads sink into Kynes’s mark, and the terrace goes slack with a shudder. Then the ground gives way beneath the grass, opening a stone-lined chamber below.
Old foundation markers sit in a ring, half-buried and ancient, each stone cut with the first lines that ever named Phandelver. The air hums around them, tight as a drawn wire.
Sable
The markers are answering the Soul-Cutter. This is the seam. If anything can cut the lattice clean, it is here.
Kynes
The resonance is real. The chamber is not just old ground, it is the town's root.
Bren braces at the rim of the pit, eyes on the trembling grass above, while Kynes feels the blade in his hand pull toward the stones like a key toward its lock.
Sable
Use the markers, Kynes. Sever this connection now, and Phandelver may keep its shape.
Sever the lattice at the foundation seam