Aozaki Aoko Case File [491] (Patreon)

The Elfsong Tavern was located just north of Baldur’s Gate’s largest newspaper, the Baldur’s Mouth, only a block away from the inn where Aoko was staying, right next to the Sanctuary of the Storm Coast.

The tavern occupied a sprawling area—a result, in a sense, of years of operation during which it had gradually annexed or bought out all the nearby shops.

Aoko strolled through the streets with the leisurely air of an old man taking a walk after dinner, aimlessly wandering until she finally arrived at this lively, bustling place.

Like typical Western-style eateries, the Elfsong had booths set up outside the building, allowing patrons to enjoy their drinks and the afternoon sun at the same time.

Upon entering, Aoko was instantly greeted by melodious, cheerful music. She could tell the tunes were elven melodies infused with human musical characteristics. Edgin, a professional bard, had once educated Aoko on this particular subject.

Groups of people sat chatting happily at their tables, sampling food and drink with friends.

Aoko found an empty booth by the bar and sat down. Before long, the part-time bartender, who also happened to be the innkeeper, approached her. “First time in Baldur’s Gate?”

The black-haired half-elf innkeeper asked in a friendly tone. “I’m the owner, Larry Ellis. Anything you’d like to drink?”

“How did you know?” Aoko looked at the half-elf, slightly surprised. Judging by his appearance, he seemed only about thirty, but half-elves couldn’t be judged by human standards. “Do you have a menu?”

“Outsider spellcasters always look like you at first, especially women. I mean, you all tend to use magic for a bit of disguise,” the half-elf explained, handing her a menu that included both drinks and food. “Baldur’s Gate is full of all sorts, so your choice is wise. But after you’ve lived here for a while, you’ll find the public order is actually pretty decent.”

Aoko nodded, glancing back over her shoulder. She noticed that, besides patrons of various races, the Elfsong also had several members of the Flaming Fist mercenaries stationed inside, easily recognizable by their uniforms and weapons. That probably explained the owner’s confidence in the area’s safety.

The fact that Larry Ellis could see through some of Aoko’s illusion magic suggested he had fairly strong perception—he might even have a few levels in druid or priest-like classes.

Still, Aoko figured his actual level couldn’t be that high, since he noticed her disguise magic but couldn’t see through to her true appearance.

“I’ll have a glass of Purple Dragon’s Howl and an order of potato wedges.”

Aoko browsed the menu and picked a refreshing drink from Cormyr, along with potato wedges—deep-fried food that was unlikely to taste bad no matter what.

The kitchen here was efficient. Looking through the window, she saw a dwarven uncle in a white chef’s hat handling the cooking. In no time at all, her order was served.

Aoko took a sip of her drink and was surprised to find that the low-alcohol Purple Dragon’s Howl had a complex flavor, not at all like the sake or rice wine she had expected.

No one else came to sit near her—entirely due to her own enchantment magic at work. Since the innkeeper hadn’t noticed this, Aoko was happy to enjoy her peace and quiet.

As she ate and drank, she listened to the patrons’ conversations—some even discussing her own party’s recent battle with the Red Wizards in Neverwinter.

However, many of these stories were exaggerated, with claims like “the two archmages fought all the way to the edge of the Astral Plane, shattering the Weave itself,” which left Aoko feeling a bit embarrassed.

Perhaps this was the charm of the pre-internet age, she mused, munching another potato wedge.

Other chatter included random gossip—pirates raiding merchant ships, scandals among Baldur’s Gate’s nobles, and other odd happenings.

It took Aoko more than two hours to finish her drink. After bidding farewell to Larry Ellis, she left the tavern.

By then, it was nearly six in the evening. Aoko glanced at the setting sun and returned to her room at the inn.

As soon as she entered, Aoko began casting various protection and anti-divination spells on her room. She would remove them after her operation succeeded, since keeping them up would draw attention if the Ramajis Tower’s people noticed anything missing and sent someone to investigate.

Once her preparations were done, Aoko sat by the window and reviewed her notebook, carefully examining the hand-drawn map of Ramazith's tower she had sketched from memory.

Her familiar, Stark, was already out, but she didn’t dare let it fly too close to the tower, given that a mage tower of this caliber had powerful detection and attack capabilities. If discovered, Stark would likely be blasted out of the sky by arcane turrets.

Through Stark’s viewpoint, Aoko compared her map to the actual details of Ramazith's tower, making corrections and adding notes as she spotted discrepancies.

By eight o'clock, night had fully fallen. Though Baldur’s Gate was still brightly lit, the streets had emptied out noticeably.

Aoko opened the window. Stark fluttered in and eagerly feasted on the food and water she had set out.

“Wait here for my orders,” Aoko instructed. “If anything happens, notify me immediately.”

Stark nodded human-like, then flew out to a tall tree beside the inn and kept a sharp watch on the tower.

Aoko leaped silently from the window, flying into the night sky. Her form faded and vanished, completely cloaked by magic.

Normally, one would enter the sorcerer’s shop through the front door, then use a portal on the first floor to reach the lord’s level at the top, and look for an opportunity to access the vault where Markoheshkir was kept.

But Aoko had no intention of doing things the normal way—after all, what worked in a game wouldn’t necessarily work in real life, since nobody here was an idiot.

Tonight, she would play the role of an airborne thief, entering directly from above. She had confidence in her skills.