If Lazar's got thoughts on how anyone strong-arms a mage the size of a cart, he's distracted by chugging.

"All that seemed daft," Around a swallowed mouthful, bit of purple clinging to his beard. "Demons crawling out the damn sky, gotta be an easier way to do it. So, what, they block the exits on you?"

How's it taken him so long to make a break?