Sommeril

Your ears barely perceive a slight hissing sound. It takes great effort to open your eyes, and when you do, you wish you had not. There are two beings standing before you, glowing like cool gas flames. One being stands at the foot of the table you are lying on, the other stands at your shoulder. Beyond, you can see diffused light pouring from a vaguely door-shaped opening.
They seem to be observing you. The nearer creature leans closer, as if considering something. Tiny violet electrical tendrils arc randomly over the surface of its "face" of  boiling wax and blue flame. It is both beautiful,...and terrifying. You squeeze your eyes shut in panic.
The next thing you realize, you can hear the whistle of wind and waves of cold air washing over you.  Opening your eyes, you see that you are flying, clutching a leatherbound book close to you chest with your right arm. Your left arm is extended, and when you look to see who is holding your hand, you are not too paniced, or surprised, that it is the being that was observing you. You don't feel threatened by it, just calm. Suddenly you come to realize that you can hear thoughts in your head that are not your own.
"Hold the book tightly...."
Drawing the heavy book slightly away from your chest to look at the cover, you can see that it is old and scarred, and the spine bears your name. It is about two inches thick with yellowed page edges. The cover is mirrored and reflects your face.
Suddenly, distracted by the strange book, your feel your other hand slip away from the being's hold. You go tumbling down through the misty air, and the book is ripped from you grip by the wind. The pages fly through the air about you. The clouds part, and in mid-tumble you can see a dark, strange little village thousands of feet below you. The ground races up to smash you...
But the jolt is only minimal, like rolling over. The cold damp stones of the street press against your body. Standing up slowly, you realize for the first time that you are stark naked. You feel an overriding drive to find your book, because you know it must be important somehow. You begin to take stock of where you are...

Mist-shrouded junction
You are standing, naked, damp and chilled, at the intersection of three cobblestone streets with gas street lights burning weakly. - One going north, one going north-east, and one going north-west. Behind you, the mist is thick and unending - very uninviting. You get the sense that large, monstrous shapes are moving about unseen in it.  It is twilight. The rest is silence.  Also here is a BOOK COVER.  Exits are north, south, northeast and northwest.  

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