Agatha, who hung in the back, trying her best not to completely doze off, shook off her sleepy thoughts at the mention of EVIL. "Did someone say its time to kick ass? No?" She grinned as she cracked her knuckles. "I'm game to share some war stories too, once we finally put a beat down on someone. Oh, maybe you'd be interested in the time I wrestled a bear who turned out to be some elf guy." 

Araleth bristles, fingers twitching, but she simply nods tightly. "Let's go."

She looks back at Agatha. "Why would you wrestle a bear to begin with?"

"Why wouldn't you wrestle a bear if given the opportunity?? You see, it all started when the circus came into town..." There is a twinkle in Agatha's eye which indicates this is a very, very long story.

“I don’t want to talk about my family,” Quay says flatly. His mood seems to somber after he says this, his eyes becoming downcast.

"Maybe later," Araleth cuts off Agatha. "We don't exactly have time for long stories right now."

Olivier hung back a little as tension rose between the party members. Having just met these individuals, he figured it’d be best not to pry too much into their personal lives. In time, maybe, he thought to himself. In the meantime, they had an investigation to get back to. Someone had suggested checking on the fields that had already been hit by flames. 

After a few minutes of walking, you are able to make your way toward a field that stuck out rather obviously as being marred by recent events. It is closer to the town of Goris than the watch tower. Upon scanning over the field, all you can tell is that much of it has been blackened and burned from a violent fire. All you can hear is the wind brushing up against the hardened stems of once-glorious plants, and the very distant hum of music and laughter coming from one of Goris's two taverns. There is a farmhouse at the distant edge of the field, but it is difficult to make out much else in the darkness. 

So Leander does not have dark vision. If it's a moonless night, he will need to break out some illumination. If the moon is out and he can see you enough to kind of walk around that's fine.

Quay closes his eyes, standing in the burnt grass. He reaches out with his senses, trying to see if there was any kind of magic or magically residue left behind from whoever burned the field.

Arcana: 8

Olivier, seeing that some members of the group, including himself, seem to be struggling with seeing in the dark, pulls out a handful of glass vials from his satchel. Inside, there is an odd minty green liquid swirling gently. The young alchemist takes one of the vials and begins shaking it vigoursly. As he does, the liquid begins to glow faintly with the same color. 

He hands one over to Leander. 
"Here. Thought you could use a little help with light.", he says with a smile.

Leander's eyes glow with an intense curiosity when Olivier does this, "What was that?!? I mean I can make some light but that was... well I'm not actually sure what it was, but it was pretty incredible."

"Can you do different colors? If so, not only would be fascinating, but I could think of some reasonably tactical ways to use that if we need to communicate over and moderate distance."

Olivier lets out a small sheepish laugh. There wasn’t anything particularly incredible with these mixtures to him, but he was amused by Leander’s sudden interest.

"Oh…that’s just a simple alchemical solution with a phosphorus base. The solution reacts to agitation by emitting a phosphorescent light. I guess I could change the color by adding some sort of dyeing agent.", he says, pondering at the possibilities.

Quay, as your senses drift through the field, it seems as though there may be a hint of magic still lingering in the air. However, as soon as this comes to mind, a powerful wind blows and breaks your concentration and it is difficult to discern the accuracy of your understanding. 

(All good with the Magical Tinkering) 

“There was something magical here,” Quay says. “At least, I think so. It might have just been the wind. I’m, uh, not really used to this whole magic thing.”

Araleth looks intrigued by the magical lights, despite not needing one herself. “That’s impressive,” she remarks. “Are you an alchemist, then?”

To Quay, she simply says, “Trust your instincts.”

Surprised by Araleth’s compliment, Olivier replies. 

"I dabble. I’m also sort of an apothecary and physician around town."

With the information provided by Quay, Olivier decides to help out by pulling another trinket from his satchel: a pair of thick copper wires bended at a 90 degree angle. He puts one in each hand and points them at the location pointed out by Quay. Should they find traces of magic, the "dowsing rods" would begin humming faintly and glow with a color associated to the school of magic.

(Olivier casts detect magic)

Quay’s breath has a sharp intake, before he says shakily, “My instincts have never been good.” He keeps his eyes out, trying to perceive anything unusual about the area that was burnt.

Perception: 21

Olivier, almost immediately, a low hum begins to emanate from the rods as they grow a faint orange color. You know this to mean there was likely evocation magic nearby. However, within a few moments, the rods begin to hum louder, and the color fades. The rods flicker a dark purple. Perhaps this means an enchantment has been close, but your rods have never acted so strangely before so it is hard to interpret. 

Quay, everything about this site seems to be unusual. There are several fields that are not far away from this one, but they are entirely unscathed. The scorched plants end right at the edge of the field and do not press any further. Additionally, upon looking to the actual crops themselves, you struggle to see any fruit or vegetable or the like attached to it. You do not have an extensive enough knowledge of this region's crops to know if this is normal, but it seems strange to you that the entire field only consists of burned stems of crops. 

“Hey guys, these burnt crops have no remains of any kind of fruit or vegetable,” Quay says, bent over and holing a pice of the burnt crops. “It’s almost as if these were just stems. What’s grown here, Olivier? Also, the burnt part is contained to just this field, even going right up to the edge and no further.”