Greck marshals the others down the stairs, ensuring the he is the last to leave. Thundering down after them, he scans the ceiling quicky, making sure it wasn't about to fall on his head, then followed everyone out the door. Calen immediately collapses into the grass and after scanning the area for any potential ambushes, Greck kneelt down to check on him. Finding the young man still conscious, the half-orc just gave an exasperated grimace before standing back up to more thoroughly search the area.

He stood close as Yusha began his ritual, somewhat familiar with the spell being cast. A few minutes later, his attention was caught by a strange out-of-place glow down the hill.

Fires.

Something was wrong. He took a hasty step towards the fairgrounds, but stopped as once of the acid burns sent a tendril of pain runing up his spine. He grit his teeth, and glanced at Yusha, then back towards the fair, then back at the warforged again.

Patience. Not a virtue that came easily to him, but in this case, one he desperately needed to exercise.

Once the spell was complete, he checked himself over. Ignoring Calen's questions, he determined that his injuries, while not completely mended, were at least no longer severe, and took off alongside the Dragon.