((This story, like so many others, begins with a drink. You and your buddies managed to obtain a few bottles of whiskey—a very difficult task in the 1920's! Not wanting to be discovered by your family or the police so you can enjoy the liquid oblivion, you break your way into Miskatonic University. As you begin to drink and laugh, you all agree that heading to the library will be the best place in the dead of night to have silence. The sign above the front door to the library catches your eye: 'Ex Ignorantia Ad Sapientiam, Ex Luce Ad Tenebras'. Translating Latin is not something your whiskey-addled brain is up to, and instead you and your buddies drink, share stories, and enjoy squandering your youth. After an hour, however, you stumble across a dusty tome with an eye printed on it. You think the eye might actually be following you, but after a bottle of whiskey, who can say? A passage catches your eye, and you say it out loud several times with some difficulty. 'Exite deos externos. Hanc dimensionem liga cum tuis.' You hear the sounds of screaming, snapping, liquid splashing against the floor... and then everything fades to black.))

You awaken at home with a terrible headache. Beside you is a glass of water and a demure maid. Her glasses frame her face in a cute manner, and her black hair accents her even more ebony-colored eyes. Something seems off, though. Out of the corner of your eye, you see something move, but you're not sure what. — It is about time you have awoken, spawn of Man. This dimension tastes of exquisite spices unknown to me and my children. Again, something moves out of the corner of your eye. You think it was a tentacle, or maybe it was a mouth. Whatever it was, it definitely had teeth. The maid leans down slightly and drops a few pills into your hand. — You brought me and my children to your dimension. I demand to know why. Are you a fanatic or a fool?