It's been five minutes at least that you've been staring at the same room...well...half a room. You're seated on a patch of grass wearing your pajamas, really just a pair of sweat pants and an old, worn out black t-shirt from some indie band you've never actually heard of. You clench the toes of your bare feet which you currently have stretched out before you. before you is part of a room, but oddly the cream-colored walls seem to gradually fade into existence with the outside air as though they were drawn into place by some unseen hand. Similarly the tan carpeting on the floor of the "room" in front of you shades into the green grass you're currently sitting on. A white door stands at the center wall before you. Next to that is a table with several bowls and a brass plaque set into the wall just above it.
The odd thing is that last night you went to bed in a small one-bedroom apartment. You wrack you brain about how you've ended up in a strange, and (much as you hate to use the word) magical world. Try as you might, the last few hours before going to bed are a complete blank to you. You puzzle over things for a few more moments before finally standing up and cautiously making your way over to the plaque on the wall. It reads: