<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/cd/CorinneLorimer.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Corinne Lorimer (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1945676)<br/><strong>Location: </strong>Guest Room<br/><strong>Wearing: </strong>Stout Frock<br/><strong>Content: </strong>Academic Musings, and grave concern.<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Faelyn, Zoe, Aloisa<br/><hr/><br/>Corinne nodded as she took in the elf's story. "I must say, this is news to me. But then, I am an urban creature. Even on the best of days, the wilderness tends to strike me as feral and dangerous. I am glad to have your more discerning perspective."<br/><br/>"As for my own observations," she cast her eyes down, embarrassed. "Much of my study has been purely theoretical, I confess. Studying traveller's accounts, academic articles, and more... esoteric works, generally held to be the fancies of madmen. Only once did I dare to study them firsthand, prior to the<em>Charlotte's</em>expedition." Her fingers tightened on her skirts. "It was a most harrowing experience, and convinced me that perhaps the madmen were not so mad after all."<br/><br/>How foolish she had been, back then, trudging up to the wall of the Mists, as though some caged animal in a menagerie, confident that her scientific rigour would shield her from the one all-consuming horror that enveloped the whole world. Instead, it had blinded her to the danger; fixed her eyes on trivial little whorls and eddies, while the Mists as a whole drew in around her.<br/><br/>Only when she had been fully drawn into the Mists' embrace did the vapours become truly real to her. There was a weight, a thickness to the fog that sought to drive her to her knees, and every little current and eddy seemed to carry a whisper, as though the Mists were some great, smothering blanket, forever folding the world up within it. She<em>felt</em>a fait cloud-whisp trail across her lips, gently, lovingly. But when she parted them, the mists drove forward, a breath unbidden, filling mouth and throat. She tried to scream, and found it all too easy to fill her lungs, but nigh impossible to empty them. In panic, she fled, stumbling and choking, heedless of her direction until she collapsed.<br/><br/>When she next awoke, she was naked and shivering at the gates of town, with no choice but to endure the leering judgment of the townsfolk as she returned to her rented room.<br/><br/>She shook her head. Her mind had wandered once more. It was becoming a bad habit.<br/><br/>"I believe there is an... if not intelligence, then an<em>agency,</em>to the Mists," she said. "It may not be enough to ward off the Mists... one must<em>outwit</em>them. That would explain why the accounts are so varied - the mists consider each one of us in turn."<br/><br/>So lost was she in speculation that she entirely missed the knife aimed for Doctor Noire's back.