The room beyond the portal appears hazy from your vantage point.  It is like looking at a reflection on water.  The image seems to ripple gently, but it isn't the chamber beyond that is rippling.  Stan, followed by the others, bravely steps through, not knowing for sure exactly to where the portal leads.
The path by which the party now travels feels more than a little different than the teleportations granted by Shirok's magic map—a feeling that has been growing more and more familiar to them.  Presently, the party members do not feel like they have been electrified, nor do they seem to suffer nausea or other "summoning sicknesses."  This magical and instantaneous travel is more gentle and painless, as if they had simply passed through a curtain of warm water.
One-by-one, they step into the cold and dark hall beyond.  But they are all not entirely unaffected.  Later, some have mentioned that they heard strange sounds and voices just after passing through that portal from Criss' secret realm.  Most of them agree on an otherworldly noise they heard: a slow and rhythmic beeping, unlike anything any of them have ever heard before.  Stan and Shirok claim to also have heard a man quietly praying, while Roth and Ilsa clearly heard a woman crying softly.  The brief experience seemed strangely peaceful, and wholly final.
Hyglak reaches the top platform just in time to offer Garret a curt nod as the cleric passes through.  He retrieves the key and holds it in his hand for a long while, considering the strangers that had only just left.

* * *
It takes you only a moment to gather your bearings, perhaps only a breath or two.  The room is a good size, about 20-feet-squared, and contains only one visible exit.  The portal you've passed through is no longer behind you, leaving only a bare stone wall in its place.  The other three walls bear worn and tattered curtains of what might have once been a rich blue.  A layer of dust covers nearly everything in the room.  Taking a quick stock of the things, they might have been furniture at one point in the past, but are now nothing more than heaps of splintered wood.
Upon the northern wall hangs a portrait with a broken frame.  The painting is ruined, but appears to have once been a family portrait.  The faces of those in the painting are so ruined, they are unrecognizable.

Map Update Pending
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:10, Thu 04 Nov 2010.

Porto looks around the room and behind the curtains. Among the wreckage and anywhere else he can think to look. He's looking for a clue as to what this place may be, or for something valuable...

18:59, Today: Porto 'Chubbs' Brandybuck rolled 20 using 1d20+2. search.

Ilsa snorted her disapproval of this place that offered nothing of interest. "When we get back to the city, that craftsman better have my bow," she said, refocusing on the task. She stomped across the room and out the exit.

Shirok and Neya were silent as they followed Ilsa out through the exit. He had no desire to remain in this dead place any longer, and the only way to find out what this place held was to go look for it.

Stan waited around to see if Porto found anything. If nothing of note came up, he followed the half-orcs to the next room.

On second thought, developing the perfect map for this next part will only take more time than it will be worth.  I will not be drawing a map—this section is too short.  If it is absolutely necessary, I'll bring out the battle map grid-thingy.

Porto wastes no time in searching the chamber you all have come into.  The piles of refuse that litter the room allows very little in the way of clues as to where (or even when) you are.  He finds a few good pieces of wood, probably legs of an old dinner table, which might serve as a fair club.  He does notice a few pieces of wood bearing the carved Sun insignia of Tharür.
"We are either in the fabled Castle Tharür," the portly halfling says aloud, "or some swanky antiquarian found himself in a fit of rage.  A dismissed cleaning-lady perhaps?"  He tosses a length of wood to the floor as he looks up to the others.

Ilsa leads the others from the chamber after regaining her bears after passing through the portal.  Once out of the hall, a rotten odor assails your nostrils.  The corridors of this ancient keep are long and twisted; many rooms branch off from the main hallway, but none of them seem to lead anywhere.  On and on the barbarian continues, determined to find a way out of the ruined castle as quickly as possible.
Neya seems to be on edge.  She is on high-alert, as if expecting some kind of encounter.  As you continue through the tight corridors, the stench grows more pungent.
"Be on your guard!" Garret declares stridently.  "There are undead about."

The party turns a sharp corner and encounters a body.  Neya quickly investigates its scent and, deeming the creature dead, leaves it be.  The body appears to be dwarven and in a terrible state of decay.  Strangely, Shirok is able to locate several "fresh" cuts on its torso and arms; probably what killed it.  The decay looks older.
Gingerly, you continue down the corridor, stopping only when Neya halts, baying threateningly.
Farther down the hall stands a figure.  There is a good deal of distance between the figure and the party, but they can see it is standing over a pile of bodies.  More bodies—all in various stages of decay—and bones yellowed with age litter the passage, but amass closer to the figure.
"Stay back!" the figure yells, the voice belong to a man.  "I'll suffer no more of you!  Olidammara herself will guide my blow, creature!  Roll the Die of Fate—I dare you!!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:05, Fri 05 Nov 2010.

Ilsa snarled, readied her sword, and stepped forward. "Ilsa Redeye of the Snake Tongue Tribe accepts your challenge. Yield or die. I care not which."

Moving forward, close enough to start a charge next round, if the man doesn't realize he's not dealing with undead.

Porto waits to see what the mans reaction is to Ilsa. Hoping that no fight will break out.

"We are not undead," Shirok called out, Neya's barking becoming a low, sustained growl as she stepped up next to Ilsa. "Now lower your blade."

"Finally!"  Roth exclaims as he arrives with the others in the dark, old, dusty, stone room, "Back in my natural habitat!"  He stomps a bit to feel the stone beneath his feet and leaves the digging to the halfling.  As they pass the apparently re-killed dwarf, the elf gives a quick pat for anything of worth it might have carried.  When threats come from ahead, Roth is both surprised and worried as he feels apt to step back and let Ilsa handle the diplomacy.

The stranger doesn't seem to recognize the party, although he does give pause.  He isn't threatening them directly, only calling for them to keep distance from him.  He appears haggard and probably delusional.  His cloak is torn and spattered with blood and bits of gore.  Those closest to him notice four bodies appearing different from those littering the hall.  They look as if they died relatively recently, compared to the other bodies in various stages of decay.  They also wear newer-looking adventuring gear; some of it had may have never been used before.  They appear to have suffered from the clawed hands and teeth of zombies.
"Hold!" Garret commands Ilsa before she does something she might regret.  He then regards the man and waits for him to respond.

No, not again. haahah not this time. The batterd man says delusionaly. Come to take thier bodies for your sick little games again have you? Well I wont allow that to happen again! It's clear to all that this man seems on the verge of being driven madness. I'll lower nothing.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:37, Sat 06 Nov 2010.

Ilsa was just beginning to charge when the man spoke. She stopped and tilted her head to one side. "Not another one," she said with a sigh. She turned her back and addressed the group. "Why is everyone insane?"

When the large, and menacing half-orc stopped instead of charging, Hennesy was indeed taken back by it. Every other attempt by this castles undead to steal the bodies played out much differently then this. Perhaps these people were indeed real? Could they be there to search for the missing adventurers he had lead to Castle Tharűr? Could this finally be his way out and a chance to give these poor young men a proper funeral, instead of them being turned into such foul and wretched undead creatures like the ones he couldn't protect?

"You probably scare them all senseless." Roth answers Ilsa as he steps around her towards the man.  "You are ... protecting your friends from the walking dead?"  Roth analyzes the situation as he approaches him, "Maybe we can work together and all get out of here--with your friends."