[hr][hr][center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230605/b188b8e9cb2b405065c58f91ded076a7.png[/img][hr][img]https://media.tenor.com/rLjTeD6cKhQAAAAC/dr-strange-doctor.gif[/img][hr][@BlueSky44][@Nallore][@Trainerblue192][@PatientBean][@Blizz][@Kirah][@KazAlkemi][hr][h3][color=FF0000][b]Hallow's Eve - Earth-666[/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr]	Perhaps you do not know how to read, otherwise you would have followed my instructions. 

	Dressed in what was once mine, you are now a Sorcerer Supreme of Earth-666 in the year 2021. I do not know why there are nine of you, but I have my suspicions. I was murdered in Limbo. This realm, existing outside of time and space, fractures the soul. One soul is multiplied into many. One Sorcerer Supreme begets nine. For the sake of my native reality, I hope that your powers are equal to mine. Anything less and our universe will fall. 

	Alone in this mountainous range, perhaps you have called out, searching for another soul. You might have waited for minutes - you might have waited for days. Time moves strangely here. It is impossible to track. Eventually, a red haze sweeps in - tiny particles of sand or dust, obscuring your vision. It buffets your face, and if it gets into your eyes, it will burn like a ghost pepper. The haze grows thicker and thicker, until your lungs are burning and your eyes streaming with a river of bloody tears. 

	It is then that you will see a crossroads ahead - with two other figures nearing the center. 

	Madalyne, Jack, and Annika will meet at a crossroads. 

	Maximilian, Princess Klara, and Carolina will meet at a crossroads. 

	Queen Runa, Prudence, and Edus will meet at a crossroads. [hr][hr][center][h3][b][color=#a81a75]Runa the Grey[/color][/b][/h3][img]https://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/db4f97a911c55834e8956c78fb0d486b.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=#a81a75]Location:[/color][/b] Limbo
[b][color=#a81a75]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A
[b][color=#a81a75]Spells:[/color][/b] Elder Furhark Runes (algiz)
[hr][hr][/center]	Runa sighed wearily. They had expected some sort of a response, some vicious mockery from Stephen's ghost. They were surprised that the (deceased) Sorcerer Supreme had not split off a portion of his soul for such an event. It was reckless. They reached into the pocket of the cloak, intending to see what else Strange had left. Their fingers wrapped around something stiff and scratchy - paper. 

	It had been eons since they had felt paper under their fingers. Yet they were blind and could not read even braille. Had they eyes to roll, they would have rolled them. Instead, they returned the piece of paper to the pocket. Perhaps later they could think up some way to read it. Seidhr was always an option, but it left the body vulnerable. They did not know where they were, but they could feel the heaviness and pain in the air - this was some sort of hell realm. 

	And she had no intention of dying here. 

	She tightened her grip on her staff. Though she did not know, the bones glowed slightly green , even after all this time. It was the last connection she had to someone she had adored more than the moon and the stars. The staff would one day kill her. She bore it all the same. [color=#a81a75]"Åh, ånden min blir trett. Vil ikke noen forbarme seg over en gammel og lede meg mot ly?"[sub]1[/sub][/color]

	She didn't expect it to be that easy. She heard not another living soul. However, her lungs began to burn - and so would have her eyes, had she something more than empty sockets. The burn spread all over her body, a chemical heat that caused only the slightest tinge of panic in her empty chest. Their bony fingers dug through the bag of runes they kept tied to their waist, feeling before recognizing the carving of algiz. A muttered spell shot up a flimsy shield of protection, and the aching chemical burn lessened, but her body continued to scream in protest. 

	Runa hobbled forward, through the stinging atmosphere. It might have been years of walking before it cleared. But eventually, she heard a new sound. She could hear the ground crunching under feet that were not hers. In the All-Tongue, they cried out, leaning their body weight on the staff. [color=#a81a75]"Oh, kind traveler, won't you spare some time for an elderly soul who has lost their way? What realm pray tell is this?"[/color] Their hood fell over their face, obscuring the empty sockets. 

[hider=Translations]1 = Oh, my spirit grows weary. Won't someone take pity on an old one and guide me towards shelter? [/hider]