My Basement

Morina banged her head hard against something. She felt her forehead, and her hand came away wet. She wiped it on the something hard and decided it must be a rock.

“Of course it’s a rock.” The disembodied voice was a deep baritone.

“Who? What? You reading my mind?”

“Sorry. I forgot humans can’t see in the dark. Here.”

Morina blinked as a light snapped on. She was in a basement.

“My name is Egdad. Welcome to Berbain Castle.”

“Castle?”

“Also known as my basement.”

“So we’re like in the Bavarian Alps or what?”

“Or what is closer. Naperville, Illinois, to be precise.  How’d you get here anyway?”

“I… I… well, I remember falling into a sewer, but I was in Cleveland, Ohio.”

“Dragona Bertforth.”

“What?”

“No. Who. Dragona is… well, you might think of her as a witch but she’s more. Vampire witch perhaps. You earthers have such a limited imagination it’s hard to find a good analogy. Let’s throw in werewolf but take away the fur coat.”