Something was wrong, something was horribly wrong. The magic Karliege had felt wasn't simply close, it was here, inside this tavern. He could feel it like a cold breeze whispering down his back. It stank of acrid metal and smouldered like the heart of the sleeping volcano... just waiting to erupt. It was old magic, and it was so powerful. It filled the air and overpowered Karliege's own sorceries. Even Sarcen's immense demonic shadow seemed but a flame in comparison to the inferno he felt. There was only one other note in his cacophony that Karliege knew, the sinister emanations of the jewel at his neck. Daigon's jewel.

He almost reeled in his seat. This tavern was filled with with a power as great as Daigon, how could such a thing be? That would be impossible, no one, no one apart from perhaps Justinian himself had been as powerful as Daigon. Colndil had been the greatest wizard in a hundred years, and even he could have never matched his feats. The records and rolls of the College of Sariya, deep beyond the southern deserts and stretching back five hundred years, produced no name that could have bested the ancient Lord of Nagath. It was impossible.

And that was when it saw it.

Her wrist. As the woman next to him had brought her purse out from under her cloak he saw the bracer she wore upon her wrist. It burned with Daigon's magic like a beacon to Karliege. Open mouthed he gaped at it in disbelief.

"Gods be damned..." He swore beneath his breath, unable to blink at the sight before him. 

Did she know?! Did she know that she wore a token of power that surpassed a lifetime of his own work and study?! Why did she have it?! Where did it come from?! And what... What did it do? That, that was the most important question of all perhaps. The possibilities were most... intriguing.

A tankard of warm soul smelling ale and a bowl of something that could have been a sort of fish stew banged down on the counter in front of him as the alewife scooped up a generous helping of his worthless silver. Karliege snapped back to where he was suddenly. He could still feel the low hum of the bracer in the back of his mind but it was no longer consuming him. It almost seemed as if the world had been stretched thin for a moment there... two tokens of Daigon in such proximity... perhaps that was the cause.

Against his chest, his gem felt warm to the touch. That was wrong, it should be cold, it had always been cold before...

Karliege grasped the ale tankard with both hands and drank deeply for courage. He was going to get to the bottom of this. He had sacrificed so much to obtain his power, to obtain Daigon's gem. The desert. Colndil. His arm. The Wastes. The long, terrible nights. And here... in a fucking alehouse... fell something of equal magnitude by sheer serendipity? Impossible.

"Mhmm" He coughed, his throat was so tight his voice came out as rasping squeak. "Where... where did you get those bracers?"