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The rising sun did nothing to dispel the gloom inside of the ruined keep. They started the day off by leaving their safe haven and moving out to inspect the grounds. Sonja, having slept the entire night, found that she felt stronger than ever. The others felt only the wear of sleeping in strange surroundings under dubious circumstance.

It took little time to realize that besides the barracks where they slept, only one other structure survived the wrecking of the keep. The pavilion stood only 15 feet high, and about 50 paces around, with a low stone railing. On top of the small building was a large crystal that stood as a beacon of oddity. They stepped over the stone rail and quickly discerned that the tiled floor held no danger for them. Upon closer inspection, they found that the round building had four panels: one had the holy symbol of the rock, another had a leaf, one had a sword, and the last one had a flame. They spent nearly an hour looking closer at the panels until Mac put his face flat against the panel and saw very slightly raised sections on either side of the etched pictures. The raised portions were barely more than bumps, rounded on the edges, beveled to resemble the shapes of hands pressed palm down against the stone. They each placed their hands on the raised handprints, but to no avail.

"If it were a conventional lock, I would have opened it by now.” Mac muttered in frustration.

“No, this lock was made by a mage, not a locksmith.” Aldarys elaborated. “It was meant to keep mostly everyone out, or to keep everyone inside locked tight. Either way, it has specific criteria for opening. The symbols and the hands tell the tale: the Rock of Erin, a leaf, a sword, and flame. These panels call for certain types of individuals. Four individuals to be exact.”

“The rock must designate a person of faith.” Sonja joined in the theorizing. “As the leaf calls for a person of nature…”

“…And the sword of a soldier, and the flame for someone who plays with fire.” Mac mocked their train of thought.

“A soldier, yes, and a mage.” Aldarys clarified. “All to enter from these specific panels.”

“And what if I meet none of this ‘specific criteria?’” Mac asked indignantly.

“I am sure that it was meant to keep out common thieves.” Spike told him coldly. “We have the people to fulfill the criteria, why has nothing opened?”

“We all tried the same spot. Let us try it in different spots at the same time. That may be the key.” Aldarys said as he moved over to the panel that bore the symbol of fire.

The others agreed and moved to their respective panels. Mac stayed by the panel that had the symbol of the sword and sulked. Spike stayed at that same panel and ignored Mac.

“All right, we will press our palms against the panels on the count of three.” Aldarys said. “1…2…3.”

They all pressed their palms against the panels simultaneously. The beveled palm prints glowed blue, lighting up the symbol in front of them. The edges of each panel then let up, and the panels gave a little.

They all complied and leaned their weight onto the panels. The panels gave suddenly, from the top, tipping all of them off of their feet and causing them to fly into the dark that lay beyond the panels. Mac saw his opportunity and dove through the opening left when Spike fell into the void. Once they were all inside the panels sprang back into a closed position.

The tipping panels dumped the five adventurers into darkness broken only by a single ray of light emanating from the crystal on the top of the pavilion. They regained their feet and stayed their ground, not wanting to move until they knew where they were.

“We are on a balcony, it seems.” Tragg said, his dwarven eyes attuned to the darkness quicker than the others. “There are stairs over by Aldarys, make your way to him.”

A spark flared up as Mac lit a torch that provided some light for the others to see. He moved around the balcony to where Aldarys stood and let the others follow the flame.

“Why don’t ye build a bonfire while ye’re at it?” Tragg grumbled as he joined the group.

“Not everyone can see in the dark, and I would rather see what is going to eat me before it takes a bite.” Mac shrugged off the dwarf’s grumpiness.

“I can see up to sixty feet in darkness, but I can’t see a thing beyond the light of your torch.” Tragg continued to grump.

“None of us can see beyond the light of the torch, but those that have no dwarven or elven blood will not even see that far in the dark. We can only travel as fast as our slowest member.” Aldarys said to Tragg.

That little lecture left the dwarf stuttering and stammering, but at least it kept him from ranting more about traveling in complete darkness. They moved off to the stairs, a narrow spiral staircase that led down for 60 feet. When they reached the bottom they could see that besides the light of their torch, the light from the crystal above them pierced down and illuminated a spot on the floor where a gleaming great sword lay. They all gathered around it, wondering if by touching it they would set off some sort of elaborate trap.

Come to me, she-warrior, for I have waited these many years for one such as thyself. Spike heard a voice whisper in her mind.

“Some kind of witchcraft weaves its spell here.” She said to Sonja. “Something speaks to me, in my head.”

I am Bryn Mawr, once the counselor and servant of King Alliaceous Dintmoor, now a soul condemned to a sword. The silky voice whispered to her. I have longed for a stout warrior to wield me in vengeance.

“Who are you? Why do you torment my friend?” Sonja said loud into the darkness.

I am the sword that lies before thee. I am the cursed of the Tower, seeking to destroy the foul mind that has trapped me thus. Take me. Wield me. I will give unto thee my power.

Spike reached down and picked up the sword. It felt surprisingly light in her hands.

“What the bloody hell are ye doin’?” Tragg shouted as he dove away from the light.

Both Aldarys and Mac also moved away, wary of where Spike’s rash actions could lead.

“This sword speaks to me. It tells me that it has a soul imprisoned within steel.” Spike tried to explain to them.

“She’s gone daft.” Mac said under his breath to Aldarys. Aldarys was inclined to agree.

I will lead thee to my quarters; there thou shalt find tools to help the travel in the dark. The sword said to Spike.

She walked over to Mac, took the torch from his hands, and led them into the darkness. The others were inclined to follow her, though they did not know where she led them. They soon learned that the small pavilion in the center of the keep marked only the tip of the iceberg. As they reached the walls they found bookcases lined with thousands of books. The only furniture that they found as a large desk made of a dark hardwood, and a few broken chairs. The library, large and cavernous, exited down a wide staircase to the east. The stairs turned at a landing and then continued down into the gloom. Signs of battle told a tale of destruction: torn tapestries, broken banisters, shattered mirrors, and torn canvasses in paintings. Still, they could tell that this palace had once displayed riches that crossed the line into opulence. The fabric on the tapestries displayed a quality to high that the undamaged portions still showed vibrant color beneath the grime of negligence. The thick carpet beneath their feet cushioned their footfalls and stifled any sound of their passing.

This was the royal apartment, where the King and Queen lived. The children lived beyond here in their own rooms. Bryn Mawr told Spike. Most of the family was here when the assault happened. Darius was out of the castle, with his bodyguard, in the woods for the night. King Alliaceous led a studious life, and spent most of his time in the library studying ways that could improve the lives of those that lived under his rule. He and Dambrora had seven children, then youngest being Darius. The royal children all performed official duties in the kingdom, but Darius aspired only to the life of a ranger. He was still quite young back then, not quite twelve years of age, and Dambrora entertained his little fantasies.

“The prince that we seek loved the outdoors, he trained to be a ranger.” Spike relayed to the others.

The sword guided Spike to lead the others past the royal apartments to another hall that led to more stairs. The deeper they moved through the palace the more they could sense an oppressive presence that permeated the castle. The stairs led to a large room with a long table that stretched the length of the room. Many broken chairs, all of the same size and style, suggested that they had descended into the dining room. As they crossed through the room they heard a crash come from a doorway to the north.

They stopped walking and turned to see what had caused the crash. Through the doorway they heard something grunting and running towards the dining room. Moments later four figures burst through the door, each carrying a spear. They had gray skin and long, stringy, dark hair. Their eyes were sealed shut with a patch of skin.

“Troglodytes!” Spike yelled to the others as they spread out to meet the attack.

The troglodytes wore no armor, and the light from the torch that Spike held seemed to both attract them and bother them at the same time. One of them made a lunge towards Tragg, who showed that he had seen battle more fierce than the blind creature could show him. Tragg let the troglodyte overstep its lunge and he smashed his hammer down on the side of its unprotected head, killing it instantly.

Sonja had pulled her newly acquired scimitar and held her new wooden shield. She metal of the curved sword glittered in the torchlight as it arced and spun through the air. She deftly landed three blows on a single creature, carving it to smaller pieces than it had started out with before it charged to attack. If only the troglodytes could see the speed of her attack, they surely would have fled. Spike kept one of the cave creatures at bay with the torch, and then she moved in with a slice of such power that she cleaved the wretched creature in two.

The fourth and final troglodyte fell victim to a joint attack by Aldarys and Mac. In seconds from the time that the troglodytes rushed in, they were dead on the ground. Sonja, and Aldarys marveled at the swords that they held, they seemed to move faster in their hand than any other weapon that they had held.

The Dintmoor line rewarded loyalty with masterworks of weaponry. Still, for all of the magical weapons, the guard could not stop the invading drow.

“The sword has told me that there was much in the way of masterwork weapons in the castle.” Spike relayed to the others. “Still, one cannot replace skill with magical glamour. Let us press on to the laboratory.”

They moved beyond the dining room and into another hall. This hall had been lined with paintings, presumably of the royal family bloodlines. The paintings were all hung neatly, but the faces were cut out of the canvases in a deliberate defacement. They passed through the hall until they came to a grand entry. The dark marble, made all the more morose by the thick dust that coated the floor, would have been magnificently offset by the brass fittings in its days of glory. On the north side of the chamber two a staircase that split into two sweeping spiral stairs led to the upper level. Spike took them underneath the staircase, following the instructions of Bryn Mawr. There she stopped them.

“Look for the panels.” Spike told the others. “One of them, the center one, is door.”

Mac stepped forward and started knocking on the wall behind the stairs. Aldarys also inspected the wall, and between the two of them they identified three panels in the torchlight. On Spike’s instruction they knocked on the center panel twice: once on either side. The panel swiveled on a pivot, allowing them to pass through the doorway. They found themselves in a narrow hallway that quickly opened up onto a room lined with tables and dusty alchemist apparatus.

I did much work in this room for the King. Bryn Mawr told Spike. I kept a meticulous journal that outlined my suspicions of Maktar and my plan for exposing him. I also have some apparatus that will help thee on thy travels deeper into the castle.

“This was Bryn Mawr’s laboratory.” Spike told them. “He has a journal around here, and he says that he has some items that will help us while we travel through the castle.”

They picked through the dusty piles of scrolls and parchments until they found a leather bound book. They opened it and read the spider like script that scrawled across the pages. Spike took the torch and lit some of the sconces in the walls, giving light to the entire lab. Aldarys took the journal and read the last page out loud:

“So what is the rest of the story?” Mac asked Spike. “How did his soul end up banished into the sword?” For the first time since they had met him, Mac sounded somber.

I went to King Alliaceous and obtained his family sword for the spell. I was in the library, with the king, casting the spell on the sword when Maktar came upon us. It was past midnight on the 3^rd day of Alamar. He had drow warriors with him, and they killed the king outright. My spell was in its crucial moment, and I could not break myself away from the trance. Maktar banished my soul into the sword, and left me in the library until the day that you all came to me.

Spike relayed the story to the others. Mac seemed very angry over the whole incident, more so than the others.

“Well, where are these spectacles of dark vision that he mentioned?” Tragg asked. “You can but them on and we can move without the torch.”

Under the table was one unlocked chest, and inside were some trinkets, mostly junk. They found seven wire-rimmed spectacles with dark glass set in the eyepieces.

“Kill the lights, let’s see if these work.” Mac said, putting on a pair of spectacles.

They doused the lights and put on the spectacles, and found that they could see things in a black and white spectrum. Their sight reached as far as Tragg’s natural dark vision allowed him to see. Now they could travel without the need for the torch.

“The trouble started in the mines, and the that is undoubtedly where the drow came from.” Tragg said, “I suggest that we start there.”

“We need to restore the Dintmoor dynasty.” Sonja said, “We should be looking for Prince Darius.”

“Simon and his brothers were the last to see the prince, and they have no clue what happened to him.” Aldarys said, “We will have to continue poking around here in the castle…it is either that or roam the forest in search of clues.”

“I have a feeling that he is in the forest, that he never left the forest.” Sonja urged the others.

“He was twelve when Maktar killed his family.” Spike said, “Twenty years in the forest is a long time to survive without seeking any human contact.”

“He probably lost is mind the night he disappeared. I have seen it happen to soldiers before.” Tragg told them, “He had training in the woods, he may have survived as some sort of wild man all this time.”

Maktar’s malice for the Dintmoor line ran deep. Bryn Mawr told Spike, If the prince lives it is only by Maktar’s will, and doubtless it is in some form of cursed state.

“Sonja, you know that I respect your opinion, and our search may yet lead us out into the forest, but I think that the clues for which we search are here, in this ruined castle.” Spike told Sonja.

“So the mines started deep in the castle, in the royal crypt. Can the sword lead us there?” Mac asked.

They left the laboratory the way that they had come, and moved deeper into the castle.