Been dreaming about old school dungeon crawls, the ones populated with Black Puddings, Gelatinous Cubes, Monstrous Centipedes, and Carrion Crawlers. It started with a phantom smell, one that wafted up from nowhere and pulled my memory along; the smell of a toy Carrion Crawler I once had. It was the smell of rubbery plastic that set it off. I was in the toy store; not one of those big box chain ones but one of those small family run ones stuffed with all sorts of strange and wonderful toys and a sing-song staff. My niece was fiddling with some plastic dinosaurs–multi-colored and rich with detail–when the smell swept me up and filled my mind with visions of the past.