<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Interference Team</span></span><br/><br/>Vespi growled, sounding more like crackling electricity, although whether it was at the sudden appearance of Fenris Dragon-Heart or Xienghen, she couldn’t say. However, she fixated on the rock star. “Dragon-Heart,” she spat. “Never cared for his so-called music. It all just sounds like noise to me.”<br/><br/>Either not wanting to deal with Fenris, or just eager to get on with the race, Vespi angled towards Xienghen and arced a thick lightning bolt towards a her.<br/><br/>The infuriated monk took the bolt, as well as Leske’s gunshots and Cale’s sword bursts. After going down in a heap, she immediately flew up into the sky, looking quite a bit bruised. “All right!” She yelled from her lofty perch. “I don’t have time to deal with all of you! Someone better tell me who is responsible for the murder of my friend, Mhenlo, and his (apparently) lover!”<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Infiltration Team</span></span><br/><br/>Haley snorted. “Who made you the boss?” she mumbled. But Dorian returned a moment later and confirmed what Ephantus said. Still muttering, she headed for the stairs when she heard a sharp<span style="font-weight: bold">click</span>. She had just enough time to say “Shit” before the entire floor opened up, dumping her, Ephantus, Spirit, Kayla, Izaak, and Geirhald down a dark pit. They fell for a few minutes before they hit the bottom floor.<br/><br/>Groaning, Haley picked herself up. The room was rather nondescript, made of slippery stone with a few torches around. The room was a rough square with one hallway leading off in each direction. Above each hallway hung a worn sign.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Stormfront Dungeon System<br/>Dungeon designed by Rouge Dungeoncrawler Ltd.</span><br/><br/>“…”<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="text-decoration: underline">Elswhere</span></span><br/><br/>Jeremiah tapped the readout on his display, a tracking system coded to locate Purifiers wherever he went. It had begun pinging a few minutes ago, but he hadn’t believed it; this was way to far from the Land of Herbs.<br/><br/>“Just how far have they spread,” he mused. Not too far below him spread a destroyed city. “Stormfront, huh? This the Purifiers’ work? Must be. They don’t like to leave anything standing.” He circled a few times, edging lower and lower, absently aware of the battles and kart race going on. But Lettucehead only had eyes for one scene, the Purifiers leading away two caged figues.<br/><br/>“Bombs away!” He dove sharply, spraying the area with gunfire, scattering the Purifiers. He ejected, set the plane for autopilot, and let it angle upward while he landed, after doing some sweet flips. In the confusion, Jeremiah Lettucehead cracked the cages open with one sick kick each.<br/><br/>“Any enemy of the Purifiers is a friend of mine, daddy-o!”