[100 words, rated G]
I can’t even glance at the Map Of Mists without getting that shiver.
Reading it outright feels like drinking a glass of iced water, the spidery chill spread throughout my chest; knowing that just reading it opens the doorway to engage my soul with the Mists.
They howl inside your ears; oh my dear Brehnill, protect me even for speaking the taboo of chaos.
But, swallow the dog to chase the cat, yes? Which chased the mouse? That wriggled, jiggled, and tickled inside her?
They opened the Mists to Xenth, and now I must bring Matignagol himself, to suppress him.