The fog is thicker here, and its effects are, too. It's an oppressive feeling of decay, and what was an itch will begin to turn to full out pain. It affects the full body, regardless of breath, regardless of physical makeup. To organics, it feels like exhaustion and aging, and to spirits and gems, it could feel like an erosion of their very being.

It's all too clearly coming from the Great Beast herself. It comes from her wings and out of her mouth like smoke, filling the air around them. She's the Miracle of Life and Death, but this is clearly only the latter on display.

She lunges forward at any one nearby, snapping her still-draconic jaws. Yet, ultimately, her movements are defensive, like an animal backed into a corner. The words people say filter in but slowly, and twisted.