Dimal's vision blurs in the familiar way and he sees the patrons of the inn, cheering laughing and carrying on as they had the night before. Blissfully unaware of the strange experience he and his fellows had after the mysterious bard's song. Something changes, as if the visions is mixed, the spell is confused, the target is unclear. There is another vision, this one black and fleeting. Swirls of darkness and madness, of pure magical energy. The force is strong and Dimal's mind is wracked with pain as it tries to comprehend the meaning of the twisting, writhing, essence of magic... Then the visions fade and he sees a familiar face, that of the bard who played at the inn the night before and whose moonstone beads had brought them to this place. A second vision clouds this one, a ragged woman, skin old and worn. She looks like she may be dead, but she moves and walks - a lich perhaps? Before he can focus on her the spell ends and his vision clears.