For once, the squall had cleared in the high peaks of Abel. The denizens feared this day more than anything, being that anyone could now see and find their way to the "sanctified" halls of their domain. Sure enough, Iron's increasing workforce had spotted this castle upon the peak and warned him of the dangers of ballista strikes. He made his way up the hill to meet the leader of the castle, surely they would communicate with him. As he reached the peak, a bellowing distorted voice arose from within. "ABANDON THIS CASTLE, SIR KNIGHT. WE WISH NO HARM." Iron explained what he was doing there and offered to assist them with their construction. The fort replied with another bellowing answer: "YOU MUST NOT CATCH OUR POX, FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY, LEAVE THESE SACRED HALLS." Iron tried once more to explain that he just wanted to help. As they say, third times the charm. "FINE. YOU MUST REMAIN OUTSIDE." Master Aureate came to the door, covered in eyes. Naturally, Iron shuddered slightly at the grim sight. Master Aureate lowered her voice, speaking in a more welcoming tone: "Greetings, sir knight. What might be your name?". After Iron regained his composure from seeing the ghastly, malformed creature, he answered. "I am Iron. One of the Three Lords." They exchanged words and both listened to their respective tales. Iron agreed to build large metal defenses around the outside of the castle, so long as they had a treaty. However, the air began heating up and crackling was heard coming up the hill. Turning around, Iron saw what looked like the contorted figure of Korinthine. Aghast, he slowly began to get nervous.
...And the hellstorm followed.