>Your eyes slowly open, and you feel like you’ve got the worst physical parts of the flu without the general haze that makes it a literal bit harder to realize just how much you hurt.
>You look around, trying to get your bearings. You are in a small, dimly-lit room.
> There is a window nearby, but it's too dark outside to provide any clues, either very late or very early. You sit up and wince, your head hurts, reaching back, you find a tinder, bandaged lump on the back of your head. It still throbs a bit, but you can bear it. You turn your attention back to the dark room.
>The bed is small, cozy, and worn in. A groove has been slept into it, a groove a little bit smaller than your body. It smells... thick, and earthy, with just a touch of sweetness. You had been propped up on a small landslide of mismatched pillows. You pull aside the thick, down comforter, patched in multiple places and slide out of the bed that is not yours.
>Something around your neck shifts as you stand up. A necklace: a Key on a matching golden chain. It looks… important, familiar, but… you can’t place it.