Despite Dowell's warning, Aoko and the others had to search for the Helmet of disjunction. Aoko was curious about this artifact capable of dispelling magic—maybe she could even learn a new spell from it!
However, regarding artifacts, Aoko still didn't know how Faerûn defined artifacts. For something like the Helmet of Disjunction, able to spark a dragon-involved war between two great powers, just how potent could it be?
"You want to know what magic is permanently imbued on the Helm?" Simon glanced at Aoko. "How would I know? My guess is some powerful, rare spell nobody's ever heard of."
Hmm... it seemed even a sorcerer of Simon's level didn't know the details. Still, Aoko figured it probably wasn't a true artifact capable of casting super-9th-level spells—most likely just capped at 9th.
"From its effects, probably Mordenkainen's disjunction," Dowell said after overhearing. "That's already the highest-level spell mortals can use. A wizard willing to permanently imbue such a top-tier spell into a helmet must be immensely powerful."
Aoko didn't confirm or deny this, but shifted the topic to other magical and outworld lore with Dowell and Simon, while the others decided to head to the Longsaddle tavern for a drink.
There was still plenty of time before midnight, and they weren't worried about being too drunk to function later—they could always use magic to sober up, since alcohol was technically a toxin, and druid Doric was good at detoxifying.
...
Meanwhile, on the morning Aoko and company arrived in Longsaddle, the witch Sophina met with her people at a remote Neverwinter dock—a team of Thayan assassins summoned from Thay itself.
"That wildshaper must be help that Forge's old teammates called in," Sofina told the assassins' leader. "After scouting the castle, they'll be back."
"Is there a chance Forge will betray us?" the leader asked emotionlessly. "He's a born conman—never had any credibility."
"Hmph, such people are easy to read," Sofina sneered. "As long as there's money, Forge will betray anyone. As long as the reward we promise is big enough, he won't turn on us."
"But one thing to note," Sofina's expression turned serious. "A high-level mage is backing that group. Other than seeing a raven familiar, I know nothing about them."
"Even you can't take down that mage?" the assassin leader looked at Sofina in surprise. "Are they from Waterdeep's Blackstaff or Luskan's Arcane Brotherhood?"
"Not necessarily stronger than me, but able to cast teleportation through a familiar means she's not far off," Sofina shook her head. "And she's very cautious—hasn't shown herself in front of me yet."
"I'm not well-versed in divination, so I can't break her wards," Sofina frowned. "That's why I called you—to find out who they are, and if possible, kill them!"
"I'll find these thieves," the assassin said coldly. "Glory to Szass Tam!"
"Before you act, make sure our meeting is secret," Sofina said icily. "In front of high-level wizards, mortals can't keep secrets. Szass Tam will not tolerate any slip-ups."
"Understood." The assassin leader nodded, and together with the other Thayan assassins, pulled down their hoods and drew weapons, turning toward the soldiers behind them.
The captain of these soldiers, seeing the assassin leader's tattoo indicating Thayan wizard affiliation, immediately drew his weapon and shouted, "They're Thayans! Draw your weapons, prepare for battle!"
Although the soldiers reacted quickly, the Thayan assassins were even faster. The leader's scimitar blazed with eerie green fire, and they cut down the unfortunate soldiers like chopping vegetables.
...
After sobering up, the trio in the tavern quickly gathered Aoko and Simon to head for the Evermoors. They didn't check out of their Longsaddle rooms, planning to return and stay the night after their errand.
To reach the Evermoors, they'd have to pass through the Elk Tribe's lands—Holga's old home.
"Before that, I'd like to drop by and see Marlamin," Holga said from horseback. "There's something I have to make clear."
"Why put yourself through this?" Edgin asked, baffled. "I really don't get—"
"I just need to pick something up," Holga said evasively. "Don't worry, it won't take long."
"Who's Marlamin?" Aoko whispered to Simon, and even Doric leaned in, curious. "Sounds like an old friend of Holga's?"
"Oh, very old," Simon chuckled. "Holga was exiled from the Elk Tribe because of him—he's her ex-husband."
Aoko raised an eyebrow. Holga always acted like a rough-and-tumble big sister—who'd have thought she had such a story?
She and Doric both glanced at the small and cute house. Just what kind of succubus could win Holga's heart?
Holga stood at Marlamin's door, took a deep breath, and knocked.
Moments later, the door opened, and a man half Holga's height greeted her.
"That's Marlamin," Simon said. "Well, what do you think?"
"Oh, that was unexpected," Doric commented. "I never would have guessed..."
"Never thought Holga would marry a halfling?" Aoko added. "I even suspect Holga could accidentally break his bones..."
Holga and Marlamin quickly went inside, and Marlamin closed the door. But not long after, something even more surprising happened—a bigger, stronger barbarian woman than Holga simply let herself in.
"Looks like Marlamin's tastes are easy to guess," Aoko remarked.
"I'll have to reevaluate Mr. Marlamin's Constitution score," Doric added.
"That's life," Edgin chimed in. "Marlamin filled some hole in Holga's heart—or maybe in the hearts of all Elk Tribe barbarian women."