The Mob's Story

The Mob began to congregate around the doors of Gambit's Bar. Every person in the mob held either a pitchfork or torch, and each screamed either chants of encouragement, profanity, or insults.
Near the flank of the mob, a cloth sign billowing in the wind was slowly raised on two pitchforks.
"Gambit, Get Gone!"
Another soon followed, and then another, until the hysterical people evidently realised that torches and cloth were fire hazards. The torches were quickly disposed of, via throwing them through the windows and at the doors. One of the torches sailed through the air directly towards Dark Wolfie's face, and another flew towards KH2 Sora.

Hopefully, the inhabitants of Gambit's would realise that they were now in a building targetted for arson.

The Mob continued to dither around in front of the establishment, leading one to wonder why they hadn't just kicked the door and gone inside. The flags and banners were still being held up, despite Ro Retna's demands, and the crowd of people held.
Soon, the chants coming from outside were loud enough to be audible inside.
"Gambit, get gone!" "Bars are for prisons, not for people!" "Sobriety is a virtue!" "Alcohol is the bane of society!"
Soon, someone's car parked in front of the crowd. One of the doors was kicked open, and a tall man with a sizeable beard tittered through the crowd, pushing through people like a bulldozer.
A couple seconds later, the mob quieted, and he began to speak.
"Do you see this seedy establishment? This so-called 'bar' that promises entertainment for those accustomed to the nightlife? Do you good people see what this place holds? Temptation from the Devil! Vices! Sinful lies!" At the sound of a loud "Hear, hear!" the man smiled and put his finger to his mouth as a teacher would to a kindergardener, and continued once the rabble stopped. "Now, let us join in prayer in seeking for the redemption of these souls, the cleansing of this devilish place, and the judgement of the foul. Praise the Lord!"

And so, what had just been a crowd of people yelling loudly had suddenly become a praying mass.

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."