"The wizards were the problem, see," Davo says. "Our fighting was just skirmishing, raiding... that sort of thing. But the wizards fought with unearthly powers. And where they fought, the land was destroyed." Inric listens intently, concentrating on what Davo is saying, pushing away how it makes him feel. "By the time they were gone, there was nothing left worth fighting over," Davo concludes, standing up. "They went away?" "Went away or died." He shrugs. "They're all gone now. Our wizards and theirs." He extricates himself from the bench. "I have to go out back, won't be long," and he winks cheerfully. "It's all the ale you've been getting me."