Laszlo feels Anethrial's hand on his shoulder,<br/><br/><em>"You...didn't kill him do you? Do you know the implications of them finding a dead guard here?"</em>She asks angrily. Laszlo's own anger flares, and he pivots grabbing her hand by the wrist and prying it away.<br/><br/>"How about the implications of a traitor in the priesthood?" He snarls, his eye burning into hers, "You had your chance to play the unwilling victim, and you didn't take it. Since then I've led you past traps and guards, lost blood and time, guiding you through this catacomb..." He stops himself, and takes a few slow breaths. There really is no time for this. He releases her hand, and turns away feeling the ache from the recent wound in his side.<br/><br/>"I don't have the time," he says, the subsiding anger leaving exhaustion in its wake, "to sit and argue morals with you, Anethrial." He continues down the passageway.<br/><br/>"You can either come with me, or find some way to explain yourself to the guards. I don't care."<br/><br/>The flame he'd sent bobbing ahead had reached the end of the passageway, and he can briefly see the outline of the vault as it begins on its way back. His goal is so close.