Back in the tavern, Davo leans over the table and grins at Inric. "So, ah, Inaric, right? What do you want to know?" "When did the wizards first arrive?" "Ooh, nigh-on forty years ago now." Davo strokes his chin. "I could be wrong. They kept themselves to themselves, see? But some were friendly, and they did some trade." "These were the Ashan-Gethir?" "That's the ones all right!" Davo drains his tankard, and Inric turns to beckon a little tentatively to the serving girl. She comes over willingly, picks up the empty tankard and provides another without needing to talk to Inric, which is a relief. "And when did you find out that there was another group of wizards in Kaleir?" Inric asks. "That was about ten years later. 'Course, I don't know when they arrived for sure, but the Kalein weren't shy about them getting their own wizards."