Candlekeep

The party shook off the fear that the mind flayer colony in Old Weir would kill all their loved ones. The thrall was bluffing, right? Right? 

Onward. They traveled through the Fields of the Dead, where a farmer warned them that one of the nearby farms had some trouble recently -- might have dug up something and awoken a spirit on the old battlefield-turned-farmland. They gave the indicated farm a wide berth, but still, the banshee found them.

It's wail was too much for a few part members to handle. But strangely, Ironica did not hear it as a wail, but as sad keening words. "Kelemvor won't let me in, won't let me rest!" Even stranger, Ironica found she could ask the banshee what was wrong. 

"My brother won't forgive me, won't let me in. He can't rest, and so, I can't rest." 

Ironica offered to help and the banshee took off, leading the party back to the farm. "Yes, help my brother rest."

Back at the farm, the banshee dithered by a wooden fence. "He's in there...help him rest!"

Suddenly, another spirit emerged from a barn, and charged at the party, slamming Dala'gse as the group realized what "help him rest" meant. 

But Falka's arrows, Rya's lightning, Ironica's dagger, and Dala'gse battleaxe made short work of the spirit. The banshee was grateful, and told them to dig up his bones, which were next to his brother's --  a brother whom he betrayed. If they brought his bones to the sea, the brother could rest, and he could rest. 

In the barn, they found a dead farmer, killed by the spirits when he dug too deep for a new barn support post. They group dutifully dug up the remains of the brothers and carried them back to camp. They found on one of the brothers a strange and magical javelin, which Safad was able to identify as a Javelin of Lightning, a rare and powerful item from eons past. Dala'gse took it. But he sort of felt bad that he was stealing from the dead. 

In the morning, the group rounded up their supplies and set out for Candlekeep. Finally, after their meandering travails down from the Greypeaks, the diversion at the Mootscarp and distractions on the High Moor, the group would be reaching their destination.

The group made haste through the Fields of the Dead and crossed the River Chionthar east of Baldur's Gate, bypassing the great city. They met up with the Coast Way and followed it south until they reached a turn off toward the coast called the Way of the Lion. They passed few fellow travelers, and after their ordeal with the thralls, kept to themselves. 

Soon enough they could smell the salt air, and after a fortnight of travel, they saw it emerge through the coastal haze: Candlekeep.

Standing atop a rocky crag overlooking the Sea of Swords, the massive citadel of Candlekeep had an eye-catching silhouette: a high wall interspersed with towers, almost like a cake decorated with an overabundance of candles. The wall was an impressive fifty-foot-tall, fifteen-foot-thick, iron-reinforced and hewn of stone with a double gate facing east. 

They were told there was no better place in the Realms for those who have a love for or a need of knowledge and they were eager to learn more about this goddess, Arumbelle. 

As they got closer, the enormous double gates of Candlekeep towered above them, three times the height of a human and wrought of black metal. Both doors were emblazoned with the sigil of Candlekeep. One of the two gates stands open far enough to admit visitors while the other is kept shut.

Bedecked in purple vestments, five Avowed priests of Deneir oversaw the front gate, milling about the entrance engaged in what looked like deep philosophical discussion.  They looked up at the party expectantly.  

“Yes, Seeker?”