Nienna Miramir's Story

Leon dropped his shot glass and reached for his revolver. How did he get here? He listened carefully for any sound in the pervasive darkness. His teeth clenched in frustration.

“I don’t have time for this. Need to find a way out…”

Elanna Torres opened her eyes after what seemed like an eternity. She didn't remember how she got here, and she didn't seem to know where she was at, drifting in an infinite void. She ran her hands on her body, the polished leather of her sam browne, and the sleek casing of her disruptor. She reached into a leather pouch, and clicked on a small LED flashlight, shining it into the void.

Heralding Rymesis examined the Void Dust carefully. He's run across it before...but her looked around at the vast emptiness. He knew not where he was, but remembered where he should have been. After many a millennia, there would not be a soul that could transport him without his will. So he was a bit expected, despite his old bones and indifference towards certain adventurous proclivities.

"Well, I suppose Gambit's is no more." For that is the last thing he remembers.

He knew it was time to have a little fun. The divine nature of him being where he was certainly screamed 'higher power'. So, He was sure that meant there were new places to explore and to people to help. Or at the very least, new worlds to explore and pupils to be had. Explorers always came a knocking whenever he stayed anywhere too long.

"Oh Ho! Time to move it!" Heralding exclaimed.

Quickpaw Hurojo awakes after having been asleep for several years. Around the area was only void. It was empty. Dark. Cold. "Where... where have the spirits placed me?" He started patting his body all over; ensuring that he was corporeal. "Not dead; that's a plus." Though there was no time to lose. If he was corporeal, that likely means that he could return to the world he knew, and hopefully return to his king. He began running, hoping to find an exit to this ethereal obscurity.

Sibael Rhodwyn looked around, finally staring one of the strangers in the face, "I don't remember you. Any of you, to be frank."