Don walks out last, grimacing and covering his head. "Blast! Who turned on the lights?!"

Steve's eyes slowly adjust, as his hands were covering his face to some degree. As soon as he can see anything he begins to see that things are not as they should be.

"What the hell is this?!"

As eyes slowly adjust to light, you all see a small clearing in a wood near a hill. The entrance to the cave is nearly entirely covered by vines that you didn't notice as you stumbled out. You are surrounded by an assortment of odd-looking people...or, you think they're people. One of them is a very small man, not too abnormal, other than standing a full foot shorter than Don, who in turn is nearly two feet shorter than Theresa. He has very curly hair, and clothing that seems to have been designed for a person twice his size are very loosely draped over his diminutive frame. As the last one out of the tunnel, he is still rubbing his eyes while the rest of you begin to gain your bearings.

(I was going to post descriptions, but you already should have done that. Obviously, you can't see yourself. You are largely unable to see changes in yourselves {with a few exceptions such as the hue of Steve's skin and the protrusion of Don's nose}, and are surrounded by people whose looks range from slightly odd {Theresa} to the outlandish {Don} to the monstrous {Steve}.)

"WHAT. THE. %^&*!"

Tim stumbles backwards away from the others, raising his hands to ward off any attack. He is almost running, but as he cannot see behind himself, he trips recovering his footing with much more grace than he'd thought he possessed.

The strange creature moving away from the others is over six feet tall, has long silver hair and his eyes are a vivid green lacking pupils. He is very slim, and might even appear refined if not for the look of terror on his face and the obscenities he squeals as he backs away from the rest of the group.

"Holy-" Theresa yells as she jumps away from the green brute next to her.

Don's seen a lot of weird crap in his building - the undercrust is pretty ugly. Still, he does take a step or two back, so he doesn't have to crane his neck so much. "By the Forge! What are you folk? And why by Forge's Fire are you all so tall?"

Steve looks down at the others, all of whom are bewildered, and strange looking, but also small and non-threatening. He doesn't see why everyone is so frightened, sure there are strange-looking folks, but they're all fairly non-threatening in stature.

"Where the hell are we and why are you all cosplaying?"

"Dude, this is bull****. You look like a freakin' monster. He,"

Tim point a long, elegant finger at Don.

"Is a midget, and I have never taken any drug that would give me hallucinations like this."

He reaches into his pants pocket, which seem to be hanging a bit looser, pulls a silver flask from it and shakes it.

"Aaaand I'm not drunk."

The tall, silver haired man, once he is far enough from the others so as not to be hit, continues.

"I didn't sign any waiver for one of those stupid reality TV shows either."

"Hey, who're you calling a midget?" Don demands. He stomps over towards Tim, looking up at him. "Like you're one to judge, looking like some pretty angel-boy from some bad Vallejo knock-off."

"Hey."

Tim scrunches up his forehead.

"I'm sorry about the midget comment, I've never met a . . . uh, little person before, but come on. I know I'm not all that but give a guy a break."

He tucks a hank of hair that had been hanging in his face behind a pointed ear absently as he talks.

Noticing people not looking normal, Theresa feels her ears. Yep, pointy. "S**t." She then tries to compose the group. "Alrighty then, none of us remember what happened to us, how about we check our inven... pockets for things that might help." She wonders where the Hell 'inventory' came from.

Don folds his arms across his chest, but becomes obviously annoyed with the way his sleeves flap, far too long. He stares at them a moment, then shoves them forcibly up his arms to uncover his hands. As soon as he has finished, he rubs his nose a couple times, as if unsure of its size.

After a bit, he stops, puts his hands on his hips and looks up at the others. "Alright. What in the Forge is going on here?"

Steve similarly does the face-touchy see-what-happened-to-me routine. Bigger nose than this morning? Check. Teeth? Huge. Hair? Longer, than his office-drone buzz by quite a big. Ears? Not quite Spock, but definitely different. Hands? Greenish, with nails that belong in Guinness.

Hrmmm.

"THIS IS @*$#ING poop!"