"The first time I entered the dreamworld--the world of the dead, the underworld, the world from which I speak to you now--I was not quite twenty years old. I had prepared the materials myself, according to the ancient recipes, and had done my best to understand my teacher's cryptic instructions. When he decided that I was ready, he took me to a cave in the mountains at dusk, and led me down a winding tunnel, until the only light was the red glow of the incense in my hand. Then he left me to find my own way. He waited for me outside, and less than a quarter of the night was gone when he heard me screaming." So begins an exciting tale told by a perfumer in an ancient culture devastated by plague and conquered by barbarian warriors.