<em>"It seems weird that there would be magic when they talk so badly about it, but in a way its genesis....there are not that many people who know the language of the angels. So they can move out scrolls if there attacked, but if a thief comes in his trapped unless he knows the language, or has someone with him who does."</em><br/><br/>Laszlo nods, the escape route had been far more treacherous than he'd thought. Without Anethrial his entire plan would have failed miserably. Perhaps it had anyways. The notes are gone, perhaps destroyed. And what of that name?<br/><br/><em>"Did you find what you were looking for?"</em>Anethrial whispers.<br/><br/>Laszlo grunts, "I found what I could. With the goon squad stirred up, I don't have the time to look anywhere else."<br/><br/>He looks ahead, craning to see any sign of the end of the tunnel.<br/><br/>"There's going to be a lot of trouble waiting at the end of this tunnel," Laszlo says, turning his gaze on Anethrial, "And you've saved me about as much trouble as you've caused."<br/><br/>He reaches into his pack and pulls out a tiny jangling sack, shifting its heavy contents in his palm.<br/><br/>"So when we get to the end of this, I am going to make it very clear you've been at sword point through this whole mess." He glances over her body, and lightly touches her arm. The ashy black camouflage dissipates from her in a cloud, leaving her skin, clothes, and wings immaculate once more.<br/><br/>He glimpses the end of the passage ahead, and readies himself, tucking the small bag into his belt.<br/><br/>"We're nearly there. Don't know if your friends are waiting for us, or en route. Just be ready."