Laszlo's ears pricked, interrupting his gaze, footsteps downstairs. Curious students coming to see the proclamation.  The telescope clacks shut just as a temple guard below stiffens. Laszlo is over the edge of the roof as priestly hands open a trap door.<br/><br/>The fall hurts, but the walk hurts more. Laszlo grits his teeth as his fractured bones and battered tendons knit back together. The red haze of pain fades from his vision, but the memory lingers in his abused legs. He drifts into the bazaar once more, hunch in place, limp more genuine than ever. Back to the main avenue, to home, to the plans.<br/><br/>A running figure nearly knocks him down on the main road. The figure, a girl, glances over her shoulder, and Laszlo glimpses a rune etched on her cheek, and smells the strong odor of fear. 'A rune mage, here?' She disappears into the crowd, scent trailing behind her. A guard staggers into the middle of the street, head whipping about, eyes wide.<br/><br/>Laszlo nods to himself, and the hooded girl is beside him again. She glances at him before running past the guard into another alleyway. "Witch!" He bellows, giving chase. The girl will run circles through the city for another five minutes before running through a wall and disappearing. Laszlo limps onward, following the scent trail towards the residential district.<br/><br/>He ponders the girl's presence, a spy maybe? Surely the Strati must be curious of the madness brewing here at the capital. If not, she'll have some sort of contract, the rune mages only leave their towers when good money is on the table. In that case he could certainly buy her out with the gold he'd stashed in the fields. No matter her mission, the girl is a fellow outlaw, perhaps an ally if the right leverage is applied. The grand temple has many precautions against thieves, with a rune's help he might not need the stone's finicky magic.<br/><br/>Her scent becomes richer, more concentrated, she's nearby. Laszlo follows it towards an alleyway, and peers quickly around the corner. There she is, recuperating from her sprint. She'd come quite a distance, from the Angel's Harp if the scent of ale was to be trusted. From here on out trailing her would be easy, but the alley is deserted, and should the girl notice him there would be no witnesses if she were to wield her magic. Time to use the stone. He contemplated for a moment, a bright eyed young man appeared. 'No, young man, dark alley, she'll bolt again.' A motherly priestess flickered into existence next to him, 'Close, but no clergy.' The priestess aged, her robes becoming light plate, a shield and sword appeared on her back. 'Perfect.' He looked at the young man. Try as he might he could not dissipate him, once more the stone was acting out.<br/><br/>The man smiled and mouthed the word, 'Tonight.' He walked off towards the north wall, disappearing in the market crowd. The illusions, the ones that refused to fade, always wandered away eventually. They'd never spoken on their own before. Laszlo slumped down against the wall, cup out, looking once more the beggar. A cold sweat dried on his skin as he nodded to the elderly shield-maiden. She stepped around the corner, hands up, smiling sweetly.<br/><br/>"Mage, I've done you the favor of dispersing your pursuers, might you pay me back by sating my curiosity?" She stopped twenty paces from the mage, "Are your services available, young lady?"<br/><br/>Laszlo closed his eyes, imagining the scene in the alley behind him, now was the moment of truth.