On the road to an unspecified location...
Kevin, still having made no progress toward feeding himself, goes on to forage in the woods for sustenance of any kind, stumbling over the ditch and into the underbrush, his hands questing for anything handy to devour.
Some time later, he finds himself a bush covered in small yellowish berries that nobody seems to have bothered to eat yet - with a greed only possessed by the famished he digs in, picking the bush clean of any sort of edible matter, including any insects. This serves to take the edge off his hunger, but he'd hardly consider it filling. Needs something to go with it, definitely.
In an improperly sealed teleportation chamber...
Sigmund, having had enough of this room, tries to tunnel out with the help of his focus.
[Magic roll: 2]
He pokes at the wall firmly, but it refuses to yield, being a bit more homogenous and unified in structure than, say, the average layer of sedimentary rock. Dang it, this was his best plan yet!
On the third topmost floor of the Black Tower of Eckledun...
Scott commits himself to cleansing this place, applying more fire to the problem in a perhaps ill-advised maneuver.
"My judgement is flame and torment, madness is my domain and from which springs forth the Dharma of my followers. Run, little voice, for actions and alliances often come with grim consequences... curiosity killed the cat, you know... but satisfaction verily brought him back!" he starts to rant.
[Firestarting roll: 1]
He sets off the most minute of sparks on the volatile, flaming pinkness, hoping to push it over the edge into a massive explosion... and the spark bounces off in a most unprecedented way, jumping into the air and somewhat distressingly deciding to ignite that instead.
[Endurance roll: 2]
The entire hallway (and presumably quite a bit of air outside as well) combusts spontaneously, engulfing Scott in a whole lot of flames, his maniacal laughter becoming interspersed with pained screams as a result. The tower is shaken by the blast wave that results, and bits of it start to crumble all around him. Scott hardly notices, in horrendous pain as he currently is.
[Will roll: 4]
Not that this level of horrendous pain is terribly unusual for him, naturally, given that he's still finding time and energy to laugh. Floating in place, he feels the tower begin to lean, the hallway moving despite his own still state. The walls are falling, chunks of magically-shaped concrete falling past him.
~I... probably should have seen this coming,~ Francine speaks into his mind, her voice growing distant. Scott is now outside the tower, not feeling like keeping up with its fall. He watches the entire structure collapse onto the surrounding buildings, bits of pink architecture stabbing into it and exploding, twisting or otherwise reacting unpredictably. A supersonic piece of rubble passes through his smoking, shriveled form, which now is reminiscent of a half-burnt sea sponge. The rubble on the ground after a brief resting period seems to have started to organize itself into small cohorts of miniature tornadoes that proceed to storm into the town's streets.
Well, his work here is probably done, Scott supposes. Whatever that might have been.
In an unsealed chamber in a lonely void...
Morton dims his light and waits a bit, listening carefully for any sounds. At first, there's nothing - however, a few moments later he hears a shuffling noise approaching, and it continues to approach for a good few moments before suddenly a shape appears in the area above. Humanoid, dark, indiscernible and shadowy, it overall doesn't seem very friendly.
"Hey!" it says. "Don't fool around with the feeding hatch before your food's brought along! No dinner for you just for that, you hear?" it says, then disappears from sight before Morton can say anything to it. The shuffling noise resumes, moving away from Morton.
In a presumable control room...
Mark, after retrieving his axe from the murdered shadow, takes a look at the various things it was messing around with - boards full of blinking, whispering, beeping, scintillating, sometimes disturbingly organic lights, switches, dials and other things, virtually all of them with little to no indication of what their function might be - there are only two clearly noted thing, a little blob of some kind with the words "EJECT" written over it, and a bony lever with "EMERGENCY STOP" engraved on it. He also manages to locate the lip-like switch that the shadow flicked right before engaging him, though it lacks any sign of its function. Not a very helpful control room, Mark would think. But there are certainly enough thingamabobs and whatsits to control any function of a giant void eel that he could think of, so he'll give it that.