Chris peered down through the grill at the platoon marching underneath. They had their helmets off, revealing that all their fur had been blackened and all their eyes turned the same dark red colour, more for the psychological aspect rather than any magical sense. Their expressions were vacant, but this was simply concentration as a number of off-duty ones were laying around and chatting amongst themselves, though this mostly involved, from the state of their grins, comparing weapons and inappropriate jokes. Soon, though, there was a loud, piercing alarm and they all jumped up, put their helmets on and charged down the hallway hurriedly. Chris angled himself to look down and saw they were all heading towards some kind of main hall. "This is the daily address Soren told me about. Quick, let's get down there." He hurried along the vent until he came to the end of it, and peered through the end grill, which gave him a perfect view of the hall. A tall, well-dressed red dragon was standing there, a large smirk on his face as he addressed the Purgers in a language Chris couldn't understand, which made him scowl. "I can recognize some words...must be some obscure form of Dragic. Baltic, maybe, or Prussian. I can't understand it anyway." As soon as the address was finished they filed out and returned to their regular patrol, the dragon disappearing back upstairs, surrounded by his guards. Chris turned around to Ptricia and sighed. "I guess we just keep looking for anything incriminating. We know when he addresses them, and I'd guess it's a routine thing because of the alarm, but other than that, that wasn't much help."