Silvermoon City.
(PS: This damn name showed up so often in all sorts of Western fantasy settings...)
This was a city built by the daughter of the Goddess of Magic—Mystra.
It lay in the northern regions.
Normally, thanks to being personally governed by a demigod, its public order was unquestionably excellent.
Even the surrounding nations and cults knew to give it a measure of face.
Even during this Cataclysm of the Saints, it could be considered one of the few safe areas in the World of Toril.
Few people had the audacity to come here and provoke a demigod—or perhaps even a true god.
Inside an incomparably luxurious palace.
The floor and walls.
Were covered in all kinds of Magic Runes and magical materials.
Brilliant fluorescent light flickered continuously among them, as though reflecting something unseen.
Suddenly, after a faint shockwave.
Amid wisps of thick white mist.
The slender figure of the Goddess of Magic—Mystra—slowly emerged.
"Why have you come back again?"
Seeing the Goddess of Magic appear before him, Elminster, one of the officiants of the Magic Ritual, asked with some hesitation and confusion:
"Did the plan fail? Could Sage Form not enter the Astral Stairway?"
Several women surrounded by divine halos beside him also revealed concerned expressions at the right moment.
In response.
The Goddess of Magic, slowly walking out of the white mist, merely shook her head with an unpleasant expression.
"The plan succeeded. I did reach the Astral Stairway, but Heim, the God of Protection—that stubborn, hard-nosed bastard—said it only counted if I brought back the Fate Stone Tablet. Then he mercilessly kicked me back down. Even when I only wanted to see AO, he wouldn't allow it..."
Although she had a good temper.
There was still a trace of anger in her words.
Elminster caught