[Espy]

Dante nearly choked. "They are...psychics? Your...what...?!"

Part of him yelled at him to help the artificer; the other half told him to get away. He hesitate for a brief moment, then shot forward, struggling to regain his balance. If only I had my bike... He missed the edge a few rooftops down, pitched sideways, and instinctively rolled, bruising his shoulder on the gravelly ground but injuring nothing else. Damn that alcohol. Then he stiffened.

The huge, grim building ahead of him nearly pulsed with aura. Even in his slightly drunken, energy-less, adrenaline-lacking state, he could trace the aura of several baubles with ease, then with some focusing, saw the outlines of what seemed to be swords and firearms. This is...the armory? Taking a deep breath in, he slipped his left hand into his holster and pounded on the barred metal door with his right.

The sound of bolts being drawn, then a draft of chilling air; a bearded man holding various pieces of scrap metal stood in the hunter's way, discouraging any more rudeness. An annoyed voice growled, "What is--"

"Save the damn questions for later! My friend (What? Since when was he a friend?) told me to tell you his Code. It's 21573 Delta. I don't know what's wrong, but he seems to be in...trouble," Dante cut in. "Look into that!"

Marching inside ("Hey! Where'd'ya think you're going?!") and turning his back to whoever the doorkeeper had been, Dante gritted his teeth and mentally yelled at the two psychics and the purple-aura'd old man. "Ok, look, hate to have to ask much of you, but the artificer's in trouble; I don't know why, or where; we've been running for a bit and since I obviously can't see, I'm a bit lost. Get to him. He's got pursuers. And for your damned information, I'm in the freaking Armory. Couldn't tell you where it is, even if I wanted to.