The correspondence shelf is empty, and Laszlo's found no further mention of Kerklos. Had they torched it? His knuckles are white, and his vision clouds. No sense thinking about that now, who's to say what this woman did with the formula. Perhaps if he looked up Siriel...<br/><br/>Siriel? His eye widens, and he glances at the scroll again. That name has no earthly business being on that scroll.<br/><br/><em>"You know...If your trying to be sneaky, your failing at it right now."</em><br/><br/>Laszlo looks at Anethrial, and sees the solution to his problems. He strides towards her with purpose, eye wide with fear.<br/><br/>"What does it say here, at the top?" He holds the scroll up to her face, pointing at the shield maiden's name.