Adrianna’s mind raced the path across the ashlands and through the craggy pass into the mountains. The mind was amazingly good at finding it's way home. She swore silently in her head, cursing her brain for returning her to that where she fled. Now was not the time to be homesick. A greater revelation dawned as the moment soaked in. All the bustle, the strangers of the tavern, seemingly some specific patrons almost, even the air around her felt ... welcoming? It wasn't a feeling that had words. It was as though some imaginary force had drawn her here to this backwater tavern in the middle of this gods-forsaken hellscape.

Humans only claimed to have five senses, but there seemed an innate ability to sense presence around oneself. Most people never paid it mind. For Adrianna the tavern was nearly overwhelming in this way, but there was more than just people here. There was an energy in the air. She stayed silent, head bowed lightly, almost meditative, just for another moment. There was something radiant; it was close to her. Her bracers felt ... different, as well. It wasn't a sensation she could describe. She supposed magic might be at work. The notion was strange really, for how would she know what magic felt like in the first place? 

The clatter of a bowl of stew of some variety clattering down in front of her shook away her introspection. Her inquiry had gone unanswered as well. The wenches at this establishment were evidently less personable than others she'd crossed paths with. Though the food was no better or worse than anything else she'd been served. Brief inspection of the gruel was cut short by an unexpected inquiry.

She hadn't noticed the adjacent man’s minor revelation nor his interest in her gauntlet pieces until now. A direct address was much harder to not notice. The first thought in her head was what made it matter? Why would that be of interest to a stranger? The obvious answer was he was a thief with intent to sell them for all they're worth. She had no intent of letting that come to pass. His interest seemed ... odd. The way his body conveyed his fixation with them was similarly indescribable to the sensation of the bracers themselves. Coincidence couldn't explain this away. “Custom forged, hand tailored. [i]Why?[/i]”

The truth was that the Corvello family metalworks didn't have a blast furnace hot enough to process such a high grade steel. The metal was salvaged, smelted again, and then cast just for her. She never knew or cared about where the material came from. Why should she? Metal was metal ... or was it? She was questioning things she had no reason to question. Something was off. It was one of those things a person could feel in their bones. She waited for the inquisitive ruffian to answer, but she was briefly distracted. She heard whispers ... or some small noise. It wasn’t distinguishable quite what it was, but the feeling there was someone ... or something, over her left shoulder. She glanced in the direction out of the corner of her eye to find empty space only.

She had developed the thought that he knew something about this. [i]How though?[/i] She could think of not one rational notion why she would suspect such a thing, yet she strangely felt confident about the idea as though some masterful authority on who he was had told her personally. Nothing about this was normal, or right, or even okay. This was myths and magic and things she had never needed nor wanted to understand. She turned her attention back to the man next to her, glancing over him many times. Did he really hold any answers? She couldn’t shake the irrational feeling he did. The uneasiness of her whole demeanor was painfully evident, and she had yet to realize just how poorly she was concealing it.