I doubt that. [ Adrian replies, disbelief clear in his voice. That he must keep line of sight on these ruffians is nearly torturous because he can't watch the man beside him work his own magic. Even Alden, with the gifts he was born to, was forced to use his spell focus and rely on enhancing recognizable spells. He imagines that he can feel the shift and change in the weave, though perhaps it's only the breeze that stirs with the spell.

It's almost a fireball spell, but not the same at all. Fascinating. He can't even be sure that the words are necessary in the casting, though they are quite impressive, reverberating off the walls. All of it is spectacle, and none of it is lethal. Adrian can't help but appreciate that.

The men run, fleeing as fast as their feet will carry them, and Adrian lets go of his own spell with a slow exhale. Pain radiates from the mark on his back, but he's well accustomed to ignoring it now. He rushes down to help snuff out the last of the fire in a largely mundane fashion, using mage hand to help with any out-of-reach embers and an old cloak hung up by the door to smother the threat of flame. ]

Good show, my friend. [ He says, unable to help a quiet laugh. ] That should make them think twice about assaulting any other establishments tonight. I'm Adrian, by the way. A pleasure to meet you, even in these circumstances, Mister...?