"Ugh! Dat potion tasted terrible!
" Gorawartieniup hawks and spits. He wipes his hands down his face and shudders. "I should knowed ta never trust potions from some random traveling alchemist ..."
Gorawarthieniup's monologue trails to a stop when he notices his surroundings.
"Wait ... where am I?" He turns around, scanning the featureless horizon. "Where's my damn cabin? Where's, um, everything?!
Gone was his beloved swamp bayou, replaced by a barren landscape lit only by the unfamiliar stars above.