pryceless

[Have an eighteen year old, gangly bookish looking boy who's a bit out of his element, but trying to look unfazed and in control of the situation.]

Greetings.

It would appear that quite a few of us have been abducted against our will and taken to a world far from our own. I've managed to discover that it's called The Sphere and the city we're in is Anatole. There's something called the Mist which rises up in the outskirts and is very dangerous so try not to get caught up in it.

The Library's proven to be quite informative, actually. Rather an impressive collection of texts-

[He's gravitated there, of course and is currently standing between some stacks and looking around, a bit over-awed. Then he recovers himself.]

We don't seem to be in any immediate danger, but if you need assistance, please contact me immediately. You never know where menace may be lurking.

[He glances over his own shoulder with a furtive, slightly fearful glance.]

Don't despair, though, if we all band together, bide our time and collect what information we can, I'm certain that we'll find a way to thwart our captors and return home again.

[Then, realising that he hasn't introduced himself, oops:]

Oh, and my name is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.