Collect it and backtrack, for the upcoming green gate cannot be opened yet. You will eventually come across a chest in a corridor holding the red key. Instead, go south from the yellow gate room, then take either the east or west branch, and ignore any northbound branch at the next T-junction. Don't travel to the sides, as they are incredibly long corridors that lead to dead ends. With that in tow, journey south, unlocking the gate. The third leads to a chest holding the yellow key. Ignore the first two side branches as it leads to a dead end. Start with traveling down the west side of the map. Your main goal is to defeat the Countess, located in the very center of the map. The map is largely symmetrical barring the paths branching out to either side. The route to the Countess is a fairly long but straightforward one. Her coming back to life triggers the events of the Crimson Court DLC. An insectoid vampiress, she is the source of the Crimson Curse, as her corrupting blood was spread around the Courtyard's guests by the Ancestor's machinations, following her murder by his hands. The Countess is the third and the final boss of The Courtyard fought during the "Bewitching Predator" (LVL 6 Epic) quest. My head throbbing to the growing whine of winged vermin come to drink the tainted blood. I stood reborn, molted by newfound knowledge. A single drop of that forbidden tannin gifted me with a dizzying glimpse of the hibernating horror beneath my feet and in that moment, I understood the terrible truth of the world. But my exultation was cut short, as the attending gentry turned upon themselves in an orgy of indescribable frenzy. The air pulsed with anticipation as I revealed the unnatural terroir of the house vintage. Mercifully, the morbid encounter resolved itself in my favor, and I set to work pursuing degeneracy in its most decadent forms. But as the moment of murder drew nigh, the gibbous moon revealed her inhuman desires in all their stultifying hideousness. Driven half-mad by cloying vulgarity, I plotted to rid myself of this lurking threat, in a grand display of sadistic sport.
Though outwardly urbane, I could sense in her a mocking thirst. A bewitching predator slipped in amidst the swarm of tittering sycophants. In those younger years my home was a hive of unbridled hedonism, a roiling apiary where instinct and impulse were indulged with wild abandon.
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