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Roleplay Adventure

You begin to descend the staircase, first Dimitri, then Andy, then Kordian, then Akam, then Beep. You descend deeper, and deeper, and deeper . . .
Soon, the entrance above is merely a blob. The blob turns into a dot; The dot into a speck. Soon the light is lost to view. The torches cast the only illumination (Visibility is now 4 squares, aka 12 feet, in a radius from the square in which each torch-holder stands). You'd think there'd be dust, cobwebs, and rat feces, but there is no grime, nor dust, nor dead spiders, nor webs. And still you keep descending. Eventually, the stairs level out, and you find yourselves in a small room. In the opposite wall is a door banded with iron. There is no handle. In the middle of the room is a low wooden bench, with two keys on it. On the wall is an inscription graven into the stone with Draconian runes. Beep moves forward and translates them. They read thus:

If thou wishest to enter my domain, first a key thou must choose. Random is the choice, for no clues nor distinguishing marks reside on either. Both keys are identical, however one is cursed with a deadly spell, and will not fit the lock. The other opens the lock.

Beside the plaque is a round hole for the key.
 
*thinks*
Well then, shall I do this?
*inspects the key*
Well, they are identical
Beepbobit, Can you check for dark
magic on these keys?
 
Beep casts Detect Magic. The left key thrums with magic, while the right key buzzes with the same energy.
 
*turns to the group solemnly
"I cannot say that I know which of these keys is the correct one, it may simply have to be a gut feeling by one of us courageous enough to stand forward and attempt it. Even if they die, the rest will be able to move on. I'll do my best to heal them if anything bad happens"
 
((Keys aren't evil themselves, so really there wouldn't've been anything to detect.))

After a moment of tense silence, during which the air itself seems to hold its breath, a sharp click permeates the silence like a knife, and . . . the door swings ajar.
 
*breathes out deeply
"Good choice Kordian! Now, let's hope our luck continues. Onwards!"
*Continues down the passage, in the same order of people, but moves to the center so as to protect his back as well, who knows what might be following us...
 
The corridor is high enough for two men to walk comfortably abreast. The walls, ceiling, and floor are all of the same material: Gray, unadorned stone bricks, placed at regular intervals. You continue on for about forty yards, all the while gradually sloping somewhere between up and down but not level - a weird sensation, if you can imagine it; a bit like walking with your eyes closed on a sidewalk - until you come to a fork, with two passages branching off, one to your central left, and the other to your central right. There is a small anti-chamber where the two paths diverge, and in the middle of this, huddled around a fire, are three Grimlocks. Their skin is gray, and their hair straggly and black. Their hands end in clawed nails, and they wear only old loin cloths or rough tunics. When the fire flares up briefly, you see that they have no eyes; Grimlocks are blind creatures. Each carries a rough stone hatchet, and one of them has a stone knife lying on the floor by it. Scraps of skin and bone liter the floor; they obviously can't see to clean up, even if they wanted to. Something is roasting on a spit over the fire. They are speaking to each other in a language, probably Deep Speach. "Druzavesh nuskaa rushuln bgour, D'zal!" "Kra-ne-toi, Vshagrau!"
 
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