You awake in the midst of utter devastation. You recognize neither the land nor sky–which is covered by the dark clouds of a fierce but now-receding storm. You are in the midst of a grassy field but all around you are debris picked up and thrown by some great force–of which you yourselves were a part, apparently.
This now-past storm seems to have had more than merely natural powers for you see not merely natural debris scattered as far as the eye can see. Weird remnants of artificial structures abound: Whole sections of wooden and stone ruins, picked up and thrown, carved arches and shattered columns freshly embedded in the ground, individual bricks, broken sculpture and whole sections of masonry and construction from seemingly a hundred sources lie everywhere.
You must follow the Golden Road. All travelers who were delivered by the great storm before you left upon it and none came back frustrated. Or, really, came back at all. But at the end of the Golden Road lives a wizard we have heard of: A wizard of great power who dresses all in green and likewise lives in a palace entirely of green stone and crystal. He, surely, can help you to return to the place from whence you came.