"By the Pricking of my Thumbs, Something Wicked this way Comes!"

You are in bed, asleep, but it is not a good dream, or even one grandly wicked as yours often are, but rather a true nightmare.

You are being stalked, hunted through a dark and winding labyrinth, and you hear...

NOTHING.

You try to scream and no sound emerges, try to beat your fists on the walls and nothing happens, and then you feel a cold breath, like the exhalation of the freezer, on your back, and you run as if the very Devil pursued you, which for all you know he does.

At last you take a wrong turn, and put your self into a dead end hallway, were you turn to confront your pursuer intending to fight, but, your magic will not obey you, and a wall of darkness closes in...

At last the darkness stops closing, and soon there is a pair of long thin white arms dressed in a black business suit emerging from it, hands clasped together, and you KNOW who harries you now!

You try to scream again, and this time sound does come out, sound which draws you back to wakefulness and you sit bolt upright!

"Was that just a dream?" You wonder aloud, wrapped in the half light coming in from the street, to which your eyes adjust quickly. "Or a declaration of war?" You finish the thought.

You most certainly are not going back to sleep, and the clock reads '3:33', so you must find something to occupy yourself till dawn, and your impending meeting with someone you hope will be an ally in your exile here...