As Twich was on his way to check out the second granary, his pony came to a stop and reared as the ground around them started to glow a bright red... and singing voices filled the air. Clinging to the pony for dear life, Twich's mind quickly started to go through the few pieces of magic theory he had deemed fit to study out of curiosity and enjoyment back in the day and was quickly coming up blank. Sure, he had picked up a few useful pieces of information but magic wasn't his passion and he wasn't one to use it. 

There was no way in all the underworld that this was being cast by any of the villagers... They would have seen evidence of such a powerful spell caster long before they arrived! So clearly it was one of his allies that was casting it. Surely they wouldn't cast something that would wipe out the village and everything in it before their allies could loot everything of value and vacate the place surely?

That line of through died very quickly in Twich's brain as he reconsidered who his so called 'allies' were and an old saying of his tribe; '[color=f7941d]You couldn't have been my ally, you made such a good target![/color]' 

Twich directed the pony towards the nearest exit to the village and made it bolt as fast as it could go, clinging to it because his life might depend on staying on the bloody thing. The supplies would be fine provided someone didn't [b][i]freaking magically purge the place from the face of the earth[/i][/b]. If they did, he would very much rather be outside the glowing red circle of death so that the loss of the supplies would actually be a problem worth worrying about.