It seems to be one of those Airstream trailers much like I would see in the cinema when I was a boy. Sitting in front under a valance is a portly middle-aged gent with a loud blue Aloha shirt over a sweat-stained undershirt. In a way he reminds me of pictures I had seen of Dr.Zandi but this man's face is slightly rounder with a full head of hair. The ribeye on the portable grill next to him reminds me that I had left my home without thought of sustenance. He puts down the can of beer he is holding, smiles and nods at me as I approach.

To the left of me is a fenced area around a large crack in the ground, and a small ancient windmill stands as a lone sentry beside it to the north. Something in that rift in the earth beckons me, the voice of a woman in an ancient forgotten tongue telling of a Journey I must complete.

"Welcome." Says the man with the bemused grin, "I'm sure you have questions, and I probably know more about why you are here than you do. My name's Zandi. I'm here to help."