>>5417465>>5417477>Sorry, I saw the dead in my dreams. Get me something to drink."At once, My Lord." The first man bows, and leaves the chambers, his companion following suit.
You have some time to collect your thoughts. But try as you might, nothing is making sense, and nothing is coming back to you. Your attempts frustrated, you take a look around your room, striving against the existential dread.
The bed is more a palanquin, draped in rich cloth and marvelously carved. It sits wide and squat, low on the floor, which is plain baked brick. The walls are covered in beautiful mosaic patterns, red and black and blue. A dry morning breeze slips through thin openings just under the ceiling. There is a low table by your bed, complete with incense-holder and an extinguished oil lamp. Beside it stands a low stool -
The door is pushed open again, and you see the guard's hand slip back to let a servant-woman through. She carries a large terracotta jug, while a slave girl hurries after her, pot-stand and straws in hand. They bow, and set the implements up in front of you in silence; the jug soon stands upright, the straw poking out of it, the stool invitingly empty.
>Demand to know who they are.>Demand to know who you are and what your name is.>Demand to know where you are.>Demand to know what the drink is.>Sit down and take a swig (in silence).>Sit down and make small talk first.>Ask to see... your doctor? Surely you must have one...>WRITE-IN 