You awaken to find yourself in a bright hall. The grey walls are plain and unadorned, save for the row of torches that illuminate the room. To your curiosity, you find that they emit a peculiar bright white light that renders the few shadows in the room quite noticable. A single table, long enough to serve a feast for a sizable court, sits in the center of the hall, with ornately-carved wooden chairs placed every few feet.
Your vision is blurred from the surprising intensity of the magical torches, and while you can see several figures nearby, you cannot make out their faces quite yet. One, however, steps forward, obviously confident in his or her movements.
"Well, this is a surprise. I'm honestly not sure whether you are supposed to be here or not." The voice is feminine and strangely-sweet, almost echoing in your mind as much as in the hall.
As she steps nearer, you begin to decipher details of her face. Her smooth ivory skin seems to glow with a strange warmth, and her eyes are an unusually-piercing golden color. She seems to inspect you for a moment, not sure what to do. Finally, she steps back, seemingly satisfied, and takes a seat at the table.
You hear a voice from the far side of the hall, "Where are we?"
The woman at the table seems to think for a moment, then answers, "What is the last thing you remember?"
To your surprise, the last thing you remember is the last thing everyone else remembers: dying. The woman nods knowingly as the group begins to vocalize this fact. "Well then," she begins, "I suppose you are in the right place. Just not at the right time."
As confusion overwhelms your already-addled mind, someone else in the hall asks what you should do now. The woman replies, "That's simple. We wait for the rest of you to arrive. Then we ask Them why you're here..."