It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Vax Vax'ildan, a half-elf rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, He enters a chamber of stained glass. you steps into a pool of ice-cold blood and goes underneath the surface.
DM: You ascend a few feet behind her, about 40 or so feet, until it comes to a single large doorway of deep, deep dark oak wood with what looks to be a dark iron ring in the center. As she steps up to it, she takes it and (thud) knocks on it twice. (deep creak) It just shifts open and leads into a central chamber now that looks about a hundred feet high, and it is a large steepled dome of what looks to be nothing but stained glass. It's awe-inspiring. It's beautiful: the colors, the light as it peeks through. The source of light, diffused as it is by the clouds, is sourceless in here. It seems like there are beams of light coming from all directions and all the colors are just strewn across the floor in what looks like this perpetually-shifting kaleidoscope of dots of reds and blues and purples and yellows and pinks and whites. You can see, across the room, there are three other figures that are all dressed in the same dark robes, the veils over their heads, of varying size. You can't make out what their racial background is, per se, but they are all stationed around the center of the room, in which lies, from what you can see, a very, very large round pool of some sort of deep crimson liquid.
Player: I have come to pay a debt, and I do so gladly and without question. What would you have of me?
DM: "You came to speak with the Lady. Well, the way is before you." She gestures to the pool.
Player: I walk slow and straight in.
DM: You step into it. (squelch) It comes up to your ankles, to your knees. And what catches you first is that the liquid is very thick. It is viscous in a familiar way. This is most definitively a pool of blood. And it is cold. It is ice-cold. As you step in, you can feel that as it begins to seep into your boots and begins to find its way into the crevices of your outfit as you get down into your waist, it's just chilling. You can't help but to stand up straight as you step further in, not quite sure of how deep it gets. And it gets deeper. And deeper. Up past your chest, up past your shoulders, and you're not even halfway into the center of the pool before it's going past your nose.
Player: I keep going.
DM: You take your last breath, hold it, and submerge yourself in the pool. Darkness around you, the cold sensation. Nothing... Nothing... Nothing...
Player: I open my mouth and inhale.
DM: As you do, you feel the blood fill your lungs and immediately your lungs begin to seize with the lack of oxygen. You instinctually begin to reach up for the water and pull, but you can't rise. You can't get up. And at that point, the cold, piercing pain of the liquid in your lungs becomes warm. All the liquid around you becomes warm. And in the darkness, where you cannot see, you calm, as suddenly your breathing is no longer difficult. It's natural. It's like air. And it's reminiscent of being in the womb, of the moment of birth you'd forgotten so long ago, that you're just surrounded in darkness and comfort. And piercing the center of this darkness before you, you see a very faint bead of white light just begin to spark and grow, and grow, and as that light widens out, it becomes a face. A porcelain face. A nose, lips, a chin, empty dark sockets, long dark hair that goes to crimson and surrounds you. You see a small hand reach up behind and lift you from your legs. And for what you thought was only a few feet of liquid, you look around you and it is an endless space, a space you've been before, a space that you once visited in your sleep, in your dreams. You look down below and you can see the infinite skein of threads that you were once given inspection to. As you look down, you see the very palm of the Raven Queen holding you aloft in this space as the mask pulls in close to you with a smile. The lips don't move, but you hear a voice from all directions in your head. A comforting voice. A welcoming voice. "My champion. Vax'ildan. You've come to me at last."
