Krystilhold held little from the glorious times of its Dwarven occupation. The Order of the Crimson Drake was caught off guard when they were ambushed by a small tribe of Troglodytes inhabiting the ruins of the ancient stronghold. Battle was decisive – although Tera and Lunan were too badly injured to be of much use, they valorously staked what health they did have to cleanse the old fort from vile influence. The adventurers continued on to find great mines – spiraled towers of hoary earth and crystal that seem to be swallowed by the endless dark maw of the inner depths of Abeir Toril.
The heroes took this as a dead end – and they returned to the surface – back into The Baron’s library. They continued on – finding guest bedrooms, a grim family portrait and a laboratory. The party also found a large arena / training ground of sorts that was home to some monstrously dangerous ogres. They swiped what was surely an assortment of equipment that was intended for use by trainees. It would not be long until the party would see this area again.
Up a nearby flight of stairs, there was a set of hallways shrouded in darkness – full of dangerous areas and walls that consumed Dasheeki and Aramel. There has yet to be a solemn moment to reflect the fate of these dear, trusted friends.
Shortly after their demise, while the party was resting – they happened onto an ideal situation to rescue a pair of able bodied prisoners from a surely dire fate at the hands of the same ogres that nearly annihilated the party earlier. This was the introduction of Commander Slade and Volgrim. Not much time to introduce was allowed as the party quickly looked for an alternate way out of the chamber and spotted it.
Downstairs, they found those who threw the prisoners into the arena – and our heroes proved their mettle and sought their revenge upon them. Some escaped – and tried to release a great white dragon Skalthar on the party. They bargained for their meager lives with the hulking, wise beast and somehow escaped not only with their lives, but with a token of gratitude – an rusty iron ring set with a small rhomboid diamond in the center. The purpose of the ring has evaded the party thus far. The party ushered this dragon through the keep, past the grounds and saw his safe through the portal.
They then returned to their previous hallway – finding a storage closet for rugs, tapestries and the like. The other hallway led to a large chamber used for rituals of the vilest imagining. A circular yawning chasm was surrounded by acolytes – and the heroes fought their way past guards and defeated a deathpriest and watched as the acolytes were sacrificed in the name of what, only the gods know. As the last bodies were subsumed a hulking crackling black mass erupted from the foul well. Roiling with arcing blue-white flame, the behemoth rose up and sought revenge on the heroes for trespassing in its sanctum. The heroes were able to subdue the beast and rescue the sacrifice in the meantime – Victoria’s warden, Richter. The party caught their breath, put their weapons away and began to take stock of all around them when Victoria approached Richter to see him, he points out the crackle of blue white fire, still lingering around her body in a filgree pattern – a sure sign of Victoria contracting a spellscar.