Seeing the gates of Candlekeep again was bittersweet. I was Sonny, having all his memories, so I was filled with nostalgia. The high walls and inner keep of Candlekeep represented safety and dreams to Sonny the halfling. It was home.
I recognized the Keeper of the Portal at the gates of course. Being a former resident of Candlekeep, I knew that this position was a rotating job for a member of the Watchers. The Keeper of the Portal of the day's role was to bar entry from the casual visitor, and allow entry to only those that donate a tome of great value to the Candlekeep library. In order to perform this duty, Watchers needed to be familiar with literature in order to judge the worth of the donated tomes. Sometimes if the tome was too exotic the Watcher would have to cross check it with the librarians, in which case the process of judging its worth would be greatly prolonged.
Thankfully this wasn't the case for us. The Keeper of the Portal, satisfied with our donation, readily commanded the gates be opened for us.
"You have met the requirements to gain entry to our most holy library. It is fine to see the child of Gorion once again within these hallowed grounds. Please have your less civilized friends refrain from causing trouble. We are very strict with the letter of the law, as you well know, Sonny."
Holy library. I myself forget that aspect of Candlekeep. There was only one temple on the ground, a temple of Oghma. Technically, Candlekeep was home to the Avowed, a group of monks without a specific denomination. Considering the commitment the Avowed held to preserve the knowledge of the realms however, the entire fortress may very well be a shrine to Oghma. Or to Oghma's principles, at least.
"He's telling us to follow the letter of the law instead of you. Are you sure he remembers you, Sonny?" Neera asked under her breath.
"Shh, don't let him hear you," I whispered back.
As the grill raised up, I and Imoen led the way in.
"Everything looks the same," Imoen noted wistfully.
"It should, logically. We haven't actually been away for that long. A few months at most," I replied. "But I get what you mean. It doesn't feel like it should be the same, should it?"
"Yeap. But we're the ones that changed, not Candlekeep," Imoen said. "More happened in those few months than the rest of our lives put together."
"Come on. Let's see how everyone's doing."
---
There were plenty of people to catch up with. Dreppin was by the cows as usual, and I told him about my adventures across the Sword Coast. Phlydia, muddle-headed as usual, hardly realised I had left.
We met two of our favorite watchers, Hull and Fuller. Catching up with them was nice, the two of them had gone out to find Gorion's remains and give him a proper burial. I thanked them profusely. When I was asked why we had come back...
"I've been trying to get to the bottom of this metal crisis. I haven't put it all together yet, but the Iron Throne has their hand in it somehow."
Fuller frowned. "The Iron Throne? Two of their leaders are here right now, in the central keep… I hope you know what you're doing because Candlekeep isn't the place for blind accusations. Look, we'll just pretend the topic never came up, okay?"
---
Parda on the other hand had concerns she wanted to share with me. "Oh, Sonny, I heard you had returned! If only it weren't in such dark times. Something is afoot in Candlekeep. There is an unvoiced panic amongst those of us who still call these haunted halls out home. You must help us, I pray you."
Parda had always something of the sixth sense about him. He was aware of things which others would dismiss or miss completely. Parda could not give any concrete signs that something was wrong in Candlekeep, but having known Parda so well I was not foolish enough to dismiss his instincts.
Besides, having played the game, I knew what exactly lie in wait for us here.
---
Then there was a priest of Oghma. I recognised him, of course. I also knew what he was as soon as I caught sight of him examining a dead cat.
The priest swiveled around suddenly. "Hthsss! You startled me, child."
I gave him a raised eyebrow. "Why so nervous? You're not doing something wrong with the dead cat, are you?"
"It died and I am studying it. That is all," the priest said, indignant.
"You're studying it? A cat?" I asked, then sighed. "Please tell me you don't have your dick out. Super gross. Just find a nice lady or something."
The priest's mouth "You, you dare!?! Thsss, forget the plan! I'll taste you now, I will, and study your dead flesh as I do the cat!"
I was hardly surprised when the priest transformed into a Doppelganger, so I had already taken a step back behind Khalid when it struck out at me, its claws dashing across his shield. Khalid retaliated with Varscona +2, wounding it gravely. Before long, the fight was over. Doppelgangers were not a trifling threat, but a single one was no match for our whole party.
"I would have said I didn't see that coming, but that would be a lie," I muttered under my breath. "Whatever the 'plan' is, it must be too early for the doppelgangers to strike. But we should be on our guard from here on out."
---
Candlekeep Inn was just as I remembered it: cozy, welcoming, the smell of ale permeating through the air.
"Aye, now there's the rapscallion! Set on the little wisp, now, and make every bolt count!" Winthrop said aloud.
I was somewhat tense, so I nearly ducked for cover at his words, in spite of remembering him saying the exact lines from the game.
I laughed, in spite of myself. "Winthrop, you old fool! If I had an arrow for every on of these practical jokes you've played on me, I'd… I'd… I don't know, I'd have a lot of-"
I was interrupted by Imoen, who held my arm in a death grip.
"Imoen?"
She shook her head, and led us back outside silently, away from Winthrop.
There, Imoen started to tear up. "I'd know Puffguts from anywhere. that's not him. It's not," she told us, sniffling. "He didn't even look at me. Only at you, Sonny."
I took a moment to think of the implication.
"A doppelganger from the Iron Throne would have been instructed to look out for me. Not you. Whereas Winthrop would focus on your first, the little girl he brought up himself," I reasoned. "I'm sorry, Imoen."
I knew that there were doppelgangers disguising themselves as the residents here. I just didn't know for sure the people up here were already replaced, even from the game. Just that the imposters which appear later. So a part of me really though that the Dreppin, Phlydia and Winthrop we just met could be the real deal.
"If that's not Puffguts, then...," Imoen asked, hesitant. Likely, she wasn't sure if she wanted to ask, in case I may give an answer she didn't want to hear.
"I don't know, Imoen. Jhasso was spared because he was valuable. Doppelgangers can only imitate appearances, not the minds of the people whose faces they take,' I said gently. "They may keep someone alive to learn their mannerisms. Study it, in their words."
Imoen wiped her tears. "It's okay, Sonny. You, you don't have to soften the blow. First Gorion, now Puffguts. The Iron Throne has much to answer for."
---
A little later, Jaheira shook her head, "The purpose of replacing the residents here elude me. Rieltar is here for a meeting with possible business partners. At most the Iron Throne would want to replace those business partners, not the whole of Candlekeep."
"Obviously it's a trap for us," Imoen muttered. At Jaheira's glare, she pursed her lips. "Sorry, I'm not in the best of moods."
"I'm not sure that is the case. This much preparation means would mean that they would need to know we were coming here long before we did," I retorted. "Remember what happened to Thaldorn? Sarveok has taken charge of operations back at the base. I imagine he's not willing to hand over the reins to Rieltar and Brunos when they come back."
"Oh gods," Neera gasped. "We're not the targets of the doppelgangers. It's Rieltar and Brunos."
Branwen scowled. "A hostile takeover? Now? Sarevok should be aware that our party is a threat to his organisation. Why take such risks at such a critical juncture?"
I shook my head. I had some idea, based on why Sarevok was from the previous game. But there were subtle changes happening in response to some of the actions I had taken.
---
We had done enough surveying around the keep, having confirmed that Candlekeep had been infiltrated. It was time to say hello to Reiltar and Brunos who we had learned was in the main keep.
Along the way, we passed by the chanters in the garden.
"The Lord of Murder shall perish, but in his doom he shall spawn a score of mortal progeny. Chaos will be sown from their passage. So sayeth the wise Alaundo," went the chant.
There were other chants, but that line was the only prophesy from Alaundo that was relevant to us.
Branwen stopped dead in her tracks when she heard this particular chant. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that for us?" she asked the chanter.
The chanter gave her a tired look, and we had to wait for all the other chanters to complete before he repeated his lines in turn.
Branwen could hardly contain her excitement as she brought us aside. "That's it! The missing piece of the puzzle! The previous Lord of Murder, Bhaal, died at the hands of Cyric. We knew that. But this is what we didn't know. Before he died, he had a score of mortal progeny! That's our son of Murder from the ogre mages right there!"
"Sarevok's acolytes must be acolytes of Bhaal," Neera said, then gasped. "Oh no. Sarevok is the client of the ogre mages. If he's the son of Murder they were talking about..."
"He's the son of Bhaal himself!" Imoen remarked. "But wait, Sonny's supposed to be the one with the tainted lineage according to the palm reader, Elminster and Entillis."
"A score of mortal progeny. Bhaal spawned more than one," Neera said. "This is all conjecture, but the pieces fit. Sonny's powers are divine in nature. Both he and Sarevok could be fellow children of Bhaal. We still don't have a motive why Sarevok targeted Sonny back in Candlekeep, but at least that would establish some sort of connection between the two."
Full points to Neera! And Branwen. And Imoen too. Gosh, the party has really outdone themselves. Of course, I was pointing out the main clues to them the whole way. But I was genuinely impressed they figured it out nonetheless. I and Sarevok were indeed fathered by Bhaal.
...Which means Bhaal lay with a halfling at some point while he was walking around as a mortal during the Times of Troubles. Ew, was he a pedophile?
Moving on.
The party was looking at me expectantly. I was considering what the proper way to react to the information. For the most part, I must have looked pensive.
"Sonny, you don't seem particularly surprised?" Imoen asked me. "We just told you that you may be the son of the dead god of Murder. I would have imagined you to be more upset, at least."
It was nice to see that a good mystery was helping Imoen forget about her woes.
"Well, we had already hashed out some of our suspicions earlier based on all the clues. I did describe the contents of the dreams to you all, right? So I've had some time to think about who the voice that wanted me to be more murder happy was. Without this final clue however, I had only had some vague suspicions."
"As Neera said, keep in mind this is only our best guess. Nothing's been confirmed with solid proof yet. So it may be premature to grieve," Jaheira said.
Neera was looking away, trying not to give anything away to the rest with her facial expressions.
"So... what now? What does it mean if Sonny is the son of a dead god?" Imoen asked, directed at Branwen.
"I.. I don't know," Branwen admitted. "There hasn't been a precedent. But I doubt the Lord of Murder sired so many children because he was out to enjoy himself. He must have a purpose for his actions. One that does not bode well for the realms."