I fainted. I'm not the least bit ashamed. Anyone would faint if they found out they'd suddenly turned into a demon. I stand by this response.

  On the bright side, I seem to have slumped sideways and haven't gotten a concussion, and the flying eyeball didn't murder me.

  Still a little confused as to why I can only see color near this mp, but I guess that's gonna be one of life's new mysteries.

  Now that the original shock is over, I stand back up and take a proper look at myself in the mirror.

  Huh. Definitely familiar. Peach colored skin. Horns sprouting from my temples before curving back over my head, peach colored with a sort of turquoise gradient. Long hair that seems to be a mix of my old body's burgundy and a very unnatural bright red. Pointed elven ears that seem very expressive with every shift in my mood making them wiggle. But my eyes. Wow. Golden eyes that seem almost backlit with no visible sclera or iris, just a single slit almost draconic pupil.

  Taking in my new clothes, it all seems to be a dark purple that screams rogue from your cssical RPGs, complete with what I'd call a leather fanny pack, for some reason a canvas bag, and a belt with a sheathed dagger. Swaying behind me is a long peach colored tail that has the same turquoise gradient as the horns and ends with a spade like tip.

  I take a deep breath.

  "This cannot be real."

  I lift my left arm to check, and sure enough. In turquoise letters, what looks like a weird birthmark or faded tattoo is the word "STRAX".

  How in the hell did I wake up as the character I py in tabletop games. Despite spping my cheeks quite hard a few times, nothing is happening. Probably not a dream then. Shit.

  "Okay. I have a quilt. A fanny pack. A canvas bag. And a dagger."

  Nothing immediately useful in the room, and rooting through another person's belongings seems rude, although that is an awfully nice looking lipstick that I put in my canvas bag with no thought to the action.

  If I'm Strax now, does that mean some fucked up god, sorry if you're listening in god, or power threw me into some pocket universe or different world?

  "Status?"

  Nothing. No floating blue overy. No game screen. Trying a couple of variations and other phrases from novels I've read, nothing seems to work. There is a weird stuffy warm feeling in my chest, but I have no idea what to do with that.

  I head to the nearest door in the hopes of an exit and am greeted with the most extravagant walk in closet I've ever seen. It has to be at least 10 meters deep and equally wide, and every wall is covered in clothes ranging from feminine suits to ball gowns. The floor has several cubbies holding footwear ranging from sandals to stilettos that I'd break my neck if I wore.

  Backing up, I close the door and try the other one leading to a stone hallway with what looks like extinguished sconces from the middle ages along the walls and no obvious direction to head towards.

  Shrugging to myself, I pull out the dagger and start heading right.

  Thinking as I walk, I try to recall what I can. My memories of my life are oddly muted. I can clearly remember having pyed Strax. Various systems I pyed them in. I never cared about min-maxing and always made Strax with a rogue build in mind despite them always being a caster of some sort. I stop and try to think of the most common spells across the various game systems.

  "Faerie Fire" I mutter.

  Nothing. No feeling of anything. Hmmm. I'd try Fireball, but that seems like a bad idea in a hallway.

  Continuing to walk along what seems to be a spiraling hallway, I eventually find a door along the wall and decide to peek in. Huh. Locked.

  Getting a nagging feeling that locks shouldn't be a problem, I offhandedly start rifling through my fannypack and find a set of lockpicks. I've always known how to use a lockpick because fuck locksmiths and their overpriced rates, but with a startling familiarity and a satisfying ker-click, I manage to unlock the door with them.

  "Huh. Not what I expected."

  A medium sized room with walls covered in paintings, a chaise lounge, and an easel.

  The paintings on the walls seemed to depict beautiful people in what can only be called scandelously little clothing, some winter ndscapes, and what, despite everything being grayscale, was easily recognizable as a volcanic region seen from an aerial point of view. Each of the paintings seemed to have a pque under them.

  Peering closer in an attempt to read them, I notice they're a little dusty and wipe the pques a little.

  "Yup. Can't read this for shit."

  Clearly not English or any of the Nordic nguages, and not in any immediately recognizable script.

  Purloining a paintbrush from the room before walking back out, it only takes another five or so minutes for me to reach the end of the hall and see... a dead end. As well as a lever. Weird.

  Welp as the youths say, YOLO. I pull the lever, and the wall slides sideways, revealing a rge, well lit library. Wait. How the fuck have I been finding my way without light till now. Nope, nevermind demon things. Not gonna think about it.

  My first look around the library shows several neatly lined up bookcases along the left wall with a rge spiraling staircase in the middle and catwalks? Is that the word? Bridges. Neat little bridges that lead off the staircase to other floors, and wow, that's a lot of floors. Am I in a tower of some sort?

  To the right there's a desk that doesn't seem to be manned, with a stack of books on it. As well as little balls of pure white with a single eye and ethereal wings leaving trails of light when they fly around. Not sure what they are.

  Approaching the desk, the creatures all freeze and look my way before blinking out of existence. What the in the Hells is with this pce and flying eyeballs.

  Scanning the bookshelves. Each case has what seems to be a solid gold pque that separates them into sections, and nope still can't read anything. No remotely familiar letters.

  Desk it is! There's a whole lot of nothing here other than a stack of five books in an unreadable nguage with no clear indication of their subject matter aside from the one book that seems to be about botany or trees of some sort based on the cover. There is, however, a door behind the desk that I decide to peek through.

  "Oh, break room!"

  Letting myself in and closing the door behind me, I see a single, mostly empty bookshelf, an armchair, and a coffee table with a pte of what looks like biscuits of some sort. Deciding to try the biscuits, I decide the weird combination of some sort of exotic fruit and nutmeg isn't for me.

  I nearly shit myself as I hear the sound of metal snapping behind me, along with a growled "Inferari!" coming from the doorway.