The last thing you remember is settling down for a good night's sleep. That's when then they took you, whoever<em>they</em>are, and brought you to this place for reasons uncertain, but definitely dubious.<br/><br/>The experience has been murky, mostly a deep slumber of surreal whimsies and grim nightmares, interspersed of moments of lucidity in which you are aware of the surroundings of the dungeon. Your limbs do not respond to your commands, but your blurry vision and fuzzy hearing can make out some sort of strange magical laboratory, with goblins scurrying around messing with equipment, mixing potions, and cleaning up messes. Occasionally they come over to you to perform bizarre, grisly tortures, some of which end in your death and dismemberment, making you aware that these sequences are not entirely in the realm of reality.<br/><br/>Every so often a thin man with lime-yellow eyes stands in before you, gazing intensely at you through a strange violet lens, babbling excitedly while a goblin assistant takes extensive notes. He is observing you... whatever kind of experience you are going through is of interest to them... though you have no idea just what is happening to you.<br/><br/>And then there's the enigmatic figure... the man in the heavy black scarf and goggles, whose presence evokes more terror in the back of your heart than the most vicious of your nightmares, who on rare occasions accompanies the babbling man silently, or more rarely stands before you himself, speaking brief, cryptic messages that you can never remember, but feel if you could, would be the key to understanding your current situation.<br/><br/><br/><br/>But all that's all sleep-memory now. A spray of steam followed by a chilly draft have given you a rather rude, if welcome, awakening. You are in the lab, apparently haven been encased in some kind of glass cage which has now been shattered. The cases remains are surrounded by gray-black stone engraved with flickering diagrams, and you are wearing some kind of metallic circlet, connected to the stone casing by a silver cord.<br/>You recall having been jolted out of your sleep by a tremor... and it certainly looks like an earthquake hit the place. The alchemy equipment is disheveled and wrecked, the floor uneven, and a fissure has ripped through the walls, giving easy exit from the room.<br/><br/>Glancing around, you notice that others are in the room with you.<br/>A cursory examination of the surroundings reveal that your possessions have been stowed in chests in a side room.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>