(Super sorry guys.)

The halo around Kazri's neck starts to radiate bright light. One can almost hear Kazri utter to herself. "Oh, for the love of Helm." With a very annoyed expression on her face, she bring her dragonsword high, the swords flashes a blight light itself, and she swings it down on the cultist that is still standing. (Divine Smite lvl3)

Attack1: 18 Damage: 11

Attack2: 23 Damage: 12

(On a hit, the attack deals extra 22 radiant damage)

With a blast of light and energy Kazri cleaves the remaining red robed cultist in half, the grin wiped from his face.  She sends him to his master in the nine hells.  Near silence fills the rooms as all you hear is the heavy breathing from your companions and the grunts of Oli as the fight comes to an end.

"Finally, they're all down." Krom says, lowering his hammer as Kazri's blade fells the last red robed cultist. "That was a harder fight that I expected."
The dwarf scratches his chin, securing his hammer on the hook of his belt. "Channeling the All-Father's power for this long has taken its toll, I could really use a good rest. Hopefully, the dryad's glade will offer us with some measure of protection against the hags. In any case, we should head there and inform Vellynne of everything we have discovered so far."

"I... I couldn't agree more, Master Krom." Rhogar replied, if albeit a little breathlessly. Yet given a moment to steady himself, and with Gorrah quick to return to his shoulders and nestle agaisnt his head, the dragonborn appeared to regain some vigor and even smiled a little. His expression immediately soured as his eyes fell upon the red robe figures. "Hmn... Given their capabilities, it would behooves us to be a touch more...thorough. So I say let's see if they possess any artifact or even Chardalyn on them. Then we should burn the bodies and make doubly sure there'll be no second act for this bastards. "

Chill nods and starts checking the bodies of the cultists.  When finished with that he searches the room and the tower.

Perception 25

A check of the bodies reveals that each has a sword-shaped amulet of chardalyn. This is the same type of amulet all of the other Black Swords you dealt with in Caer-Dineval had. Other than that, they have nothing of real value.  Their weapons and armor are of poor quality.  A check around the tower reveals some food storages and basic supplies.  This was a hastily built camp and not a long term base.

After Chill finishes checking the bodies, Krom collects some of the weapons. "The craftsmanship is poor, but I'm running a bit low on raw materials, so these will serve me just fine."
Following Rhogar’s suggestion, the dwarf piles the bodies together and douses them with some of the oil recovered from the cultists' camp. "Once we're ready to leave this place, we can burn them."
Krom then checks and adjusts his gear, ensuring everything is secure before preparing to return to the dryad’s grove.

While Chill went about searching the cultist, Rhogar assists Krom (and presumably Kazri) in moving the bodies afterwards into a pile and a little ways away from the tower. "I think that just about does it. If any of you can, I'd suggest loading up on some of their food storages before we go, as we might as well not waste them." Rhogar replied at some point, though sounded a touch distracted and a little morose at the time. But once the work of moving and setting ablaze the bodies, including that of their leader after a quick trip back up the tower, is done, the Dragonborn huffs once before making ready to return to the dryad's grove as well. 

"I can fetch the body of their leader Mr. Nimbatuul." Kazri goes upstairs and brings the leader and the cultist to the main floor. At the mention of returning to the Dryad's grove. "I wonder if Ms. Harpell, or Hathowyn would have any information regarding the Frostmaiden. We must prepare ourselves her her arrival, if that is true."

Chill finishes his searches and then aids the others with the remaining tasks.  "Ready to go when you are."

Bruised and battered from the grueling battle with the Black Swords, you stagger back into the quiet sanctuary of the grove. Though exhaustion weighs heavily upon you, a sense of grim satisfaction lingers—you have eliminated a dangerous threat, ensuring the cult will no longer hinder your quest. The crisp night air bites at your exposed wounds, but the knowledge that you have secured a temporary respite grants you some measure of peace.

Now, with the immediate danger behind you, your thoughts turn to the greater task at hand. The mystery of the tower still looms, its secrets locked away behind cryptic clues yet to be unraveled. Time is slipping through your fingers, and you must gather your strength if you are to uncover the path forward.

Vellynne stands near the edge of the grove, her ever-watchful familiar watching the passage.. As you approach, she turns, shaking her head. "There has been no sign of the Frostmaiden," she reports when you ask about her, Vellynne's tone calm yet edged with caution. "If she passes near, I will send my familiar to warn you as swiftly as possible." The seriousness in her voice is unmistakable—though you have earned this moment to recover, danger is never far behind.

The fire crackles softly as you settle in, the warmth providing a brief comfort against the ever-present cold. The weight of your journey presses upon you, but for now, you allow yourself a moment to breathe. Soon, you will press on, seeking the final pieces of the puzzle that will unlock the tower’s secrets. But first, you rest.

Long rest

"Thank you Vellynne. That is much appreciated. All-Father willing, we'll unlock the tower's secrets before the Frostmaiden arrives in this forsaken place," Krom says with gratitude as Vellynne offers her aid.
The dwarf sits down, takes his share of food and, after wolfs it down with gusto. Once finished, he pulls the weapons recovered from the cultists from his backpack along with his smith's tools. The runes on his smithing hammer glow faintly as he begins reshaping the crude weapons into a small anvil with a hammer etched upon its surface. Satisfied with his work, he stows his tools away, leans back against one of the trees in the Dryad's grove, and takes his rest.
The next morning, as soon as he awakens, Krom retrieves the small anvil he crafted, places it on the ground, and begins chanting a hymn of divination.
"All-Father, hold my hammering hand firm, my crafting mind steadfast, and the tools I form in your image." The dwarf intones as he completes his ritual.
The small anvil melts away, leaving no trace of its existance.
"All-Father, what must we do to safely enter the tower of Necromancy and rid ourselves of the horde of undead that surrounds it?

(OOC @DM Before taking the long rest, Krom uses Artisan's Blessings on the weapons recovered from the cultists and craft a anvil with Mordain's holy symbol  - 25 gold value. The next morning Krom ritually casts Divination and asks his question to Moradin. Krom has 5 sticks of incense in his backpack, I'll remove 1 since it's also a material consumed by the spell)

Rhogar had grimly nodded in agreement to Vellynne, and in addition to requesting the dome be put up as an extra security measure against potential hag intrusion that night, the dragonborn wouldn't allow everyone to take their rest for the evening without one final nugget of consideration for tomorrow. Or at least he would if Krom's own divine portent proved a little less than helpful.

"Given the time constraints we face, it will behoove us to make use of that... of the scrying artifact at least once more. Not immediately, of course, but... *sigh*... But once we've scoured the other towers, and should no other alternatives present itself, then... it must be done if we are to learn what we need from the ruins of the necromancy tower. And I... *ahem* I will pay its price and broker no argument on this."

Chill watches as Krom chants his hymn and asks his god for guidance and the answer to how to find the clue at the Tower of Necromancy. Kitsune has wandered off and explores the grove while they wait.

Kazri thanks Vellynne, and tells that her aid is much appreciated. While resting, she tries to strike small talks with her. "Assuming that we are getting out of here alive, what are your plans Ms. Harpell?"

As the last trace of the anvil vanishes, a deep silence falls over Krom, as if the world itself is holding its breath. Then, like the distant ringing of a hammer on steel, a voice—not spoken, but felt in the marrow of his bones—resounds within him.

"The tower fell, but its truth remains buried. Dig where the stones have swallowed the past, and the path shall be revealed. The words you seek lie entombed beneath ruin and dust."

Krom's vision shifts. He sees the fallen remnants of a once-mighty tower, half-buried in the earth, choked by time and neglect. Shadowed crevices pulse with unseen power, the stone itself whispering secrets long forgotten. Scattered amongst the wreckage, countless crawling hands skitter and claw at the dirt—mindless things, yet drawn to something below.

Then, a revelation: the hands do not seek to hinder, but to aid. They grasp and dig, unearthing fragments of runes, scraps of ancient etchings half-buried in the cold embrace of the ground. A riddle, lost in ruin, awaits the one willing to uncover it.

"They who fell will rise again, should you give them purpose. Let the restless dig, and the past shall speak."

With a sudden gasp, Krom returns to himself, the divine message burning in his mind. The All-Father has spoken—the riddle is buried in the wreckage of the fallen tower. And the crawling hands, those eerie remnants of forgotten souls, are not their foes but their unlikely allies.

As soon as the vision fades, Krom immediately shares its details with the rest of the group, telling them everything the All-Father revealed to him.
"We had it completely wrong. Those hands will help us uncover what we seek, not hinder us." The dwarf adds. 
After checking his gear, the dwarf tighents the straps on his armor and grips his hammer "The path to take is clear, my friends. Let's head to the Tower of Necromancy at once."

Despite sensing the urgency in Krom's voice, Rhogar yet crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and clenched his jaw as if in deep thought. "... I suppose we have a little choice. To do otherwise would be folly, and I... Heh, I cannot say I was looking forward to having my eyes plucked out!" He admitted and weakly grinned at the party. "Either way, seeing as your god didn't deem it necessary to warn of us a need of having someone along with robust understanding in necromancy, all should be well enough. Let us make haste." By the time Rhogar finishes speaking/"grand standing", Gorrah was already in the process of flying up to his shoulder with the dragonborn's backpack hanging from his jaw. "Mn! Thank you, Gorrah. Oh, and before I forget-" With a flick of a wrist, a curt word in draconic, and a bit of conjured electricity to form a tether, Vixix  favored staffs each find their way to a hand. But whereas one found itself latched to the backpack before it was adorned, the latter is tapped into the ground, sending a harmless but magical shockwave that left a few a bit more energized than before. 

-Casting (3rd level)Exuberance on Oli, Gorrah, & Rhogar using a warlock spellslot, gaining 10 additional Max HP and healing same amount.

Kazri and Oli are jolted by Krom's visions. "Yes of course Master Krom." We shall be ready in a moment. After receiving the magical boost to his health, Oli goes close to Uncle Rhogar and rubs his heads to the Dragonborn's side. (That's his way of saying thank you.)

"Did he give us some picks and shovels?  Or could you turn some metal into some?" Chill asks looking at his claws.   "These things weren't made for digging."