Saronim continued along a pathway through the forest at a steady pace. He was still equally excited and exhausted; he chuckled to himself as he thought of how he replaced the captain’s armor with his prisoner clothing, after that getting past that pig at the door was a no-brainer. Then it was just a hop and a skip down a stone hallway to the evidence room to get all his old equipment. After that it just got even easier. For in his ragged and musty satchel, where scrolls. Well, not just scrolls, but tomes, enchanted rings, amulets, and a few small bombs that were barely the size of his palm. He'd never tried to hurt anybody with them of course; the bombs were usually used to keep animals at bay during the nights. Once Saronim used an identity tome he walked out of the evidence room and went straight to the large wooden doors and went out. He'd not gotten a hundred paces away from the town's walls before the heavy armor became too much to bare. So he stripped and put on a grey and tattered robe, a leather shoulder guard from the captain's armor, and some boots. He left the armor where it lie and kept walking.
     Easy as that.
     Easy. Something about that word made Saronim doubt the authenticity of his escape. After all, isn't the hardest part of escaping... escaping? Saronim shrugged his shoulders. Maybe he was just that good? Or maybe-
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of frogs and birds in the distance. Then Saronim looked around him and realized he must've wandered off the path some time ago. Seeing as how the worn smooth cobblestone had now given way grass and pebble. Where he was now standing was a large open field, in the trees there could be seen birds of all shapes and colors perched and preparing for the evening, the first of two moons was already beginning its slow ascent into the sky, and Saronim's head was spinning from the sheer volume of the bird calls at this moment. To his left he could see some old, crumbling ruins. What was left standing was barely half as tall as the great evergreens that surrounded the clearing, and covered by vines blooming with flowers budding in every imaginable color. High above the trees in the same direction was a long stretch of black clouds. Saronim knew that a storm was coming, he could taste it in the air, and he could see flashes of lightning just along the top of the tree line, even if he couldn't hear it above the birds. He made his way across the clearing to the ruins, which were allot bigger and decrepit up close. The two large main doors, which looked like they hadn't been opened in years, opened only after Saronim took the knife out of his boot and chiseled the rust off the hinges.
The inside of the ruins didn't look any better than the door implied. Every five or ten feet down the main hallway there was another tangle of roots breaking through the stone walls or ceiling, although it was dry it was also unnaturally cold. Saronim shivered as he tucked his hands inside his robe. Branching off from the main hallway were smaller passages, each blocked by iron gates that had long past been corroded down to a few thick bars. The room looked like it was at least twice as tall as the entire ruins were on the outside. Towering pillars loomed over Saronim as he continued to walk through the long, fog filled room. Each pillar brandished what looked to be writing along the base and at eye level. What language the small bits and pieces of undestroyed stone writing were, Saronim couldn't figure out.
     Saronim continued up a flight of stairs that was positioned on the opposite side of the room to the entrance. At the top of the stairs Saronim saw it.
The next room looked as to be crudely carved out of the rock it was surrounded by, this room had no ceiling; instead, there was a large opening through which Saronim could already see the storm beginning to rain, on the floor was grass and flowers, much like the ones that he'd seen in the clearing just outside. But this isn't what grabbed Saronim's attention, in the center of the room was a statue of an angel, the age was apparent. It was stained to an almost yellow color, and was missing a right arm and its nose. The left wing was mostly intact; spare a few cracks and missing chunks. As for the right wing, the only way you could tell it was ever there was the rubble at the base of the statue's pedestal.
Saronim looked to his right to see a rocky outcrop that made a good overhang to keep rain off of him as he slept; as he sat down he reached into his satchel and pulled out the hood to his robe, using it as a pillow he laid down with his back to the wall, staring at the statue. It was something he couldn't quite understand, but, it made him feel a little more at ease. And falling asleep was far easier than he'd hoped.