I am Para, I work as one of many assistants for the Grand Mender of Wounds in the capital, and as of this moment she has sent me and five other assistants to the outlying township of Petalburg, there was word of a strange fungal infection that is currently inhabiting the body of a Wayfinder.

This Wayfinder, goes by the name Scarab, a flighty little changeling who was born slightly different from others of his brood in Petalburg, and from what the paperwork that was given to us, he is touched in the head and is generally has his thoughts lost up in the cave moss. Looking deeper into this changelings report it is said that he was told to explore and report on any findings he may or may not discover in the Blighted Lands far from our borders and that he actually went into the Bleak Hollow, from there it is said that he was injured and brought it back here.

Now, I am no expert in the field on biology or pathology, but I would think that by bringing back an unknown disease that we have no means of curing or treating was a smart idea or let alone not be placed in isolation to be studied and kept safe from spreading to others was a smart move on their part.

Alas here we are, the six of us and a small cadre of guards to keep us and the patient safe from both harm and if need be termination if it turns out to be far more dangerous than expected.

The township seemed fine on our approach, it was not on fire nor were their changelings rioting in the streets, so all was well and the diseased patient hasn’t spread their contagion to anyone else.

Yet.

The first order of business was to locate the patient and place within an isolation chamber and study the effects that this disease has on his body. If we are lucky we can figure out its symptoms and see if it matches any other disease we know of to begin working on a cure if at the very least lessen the symptoms of the disease to make it manageable to recover from. The six of us spread out with an accompanying guard to handle the patient if they started acting out or have become aggressive.

Searching high and low of the town we spent the better part of an hour until one of the other assistants found Scarab curled up in a ball complaining about a humming noise that only he can hear. Giving Scarab a look over we all noted the infected hind leg and the growing severity of the infection, most notably the seemingly odd fungal growth that has almost started taking over the limb. Another thing that we have noticed is that his eyes appear to be partially bloodshot and agitated, I wonder what else is happening in his body.

But for now we will confine him to his home, we will keep a watchful eye on the patient and hopefully we will learn more about this disease and find a means of a cure for him before it consumes him.

So far it only appears to be a fungal infection with a minor attachment of headaches, maybe a constant usage of anti-fungal medication can cure him?

…
…

Two weeks have passed since our arrival and the locals are feeling somewhat at ease with our presence. I take it that when the capital sends a team of medical elite (to their eyes) to their town to deal with a strange new pathogen it means that they will have it under control.

So far it sure as the bleakest tartarus hole we have this under control. Our patient is so far complying with our commands and is taking the medication we have given him, but so far his illness is not lessening nor is the medicine showing any signs of actually working. He is still complaining about his leg injury and the chronic headaches, but one thing we have learned is that the fungus on his leg does indeed react to magic.

From what we have seen so far, just using magic in its vicinity causes it to react by trying to reach out toward the source of and absorb whatever it can siphon off. I personally watched Assistant Krabb stand next to the fungus and use his magic right on his hind leg and the result was the fungus reached out small tendrils towards Krabb and the moment it touches his magical aura it began to drain it and grew rapidly from the absorbed arcane power. Pulling Krabb away from Scarab and checking him out to see if he was suffering from magical exhaustion or infection from being drained but so far we saw no signs of the disease on the assistant.

Scarab on the other hoof… he looked worse than we started this experiment. He appeared to be more drained and agitated, the fungal growth in his leg grew twice in size and that it was encompassing the entire lower half of the limb along with almost the rest of the upper portion as well.

I can tell that by now that magic must not be used in the patient or else it will cause the disease to grow rapidly and spread across the infected area. If magic makes it grow, what would happen if emotion was used?

My assistants are scared of that line of questioning, and for good reason. The Academiae Intellectus back in the capital strictly forbid the use of emotions to exacerbate or accelerate the growth of any living or non-living entity’s for the consequences of such actions are unforeseen and unintended. We are told time and time again that the few times that emotions were used in the name of science resulted in both abominations of the flesh and uncontrollable arcane aberrations that have killed and injured several dozen changelings and destroyed priceless relics and artifacts alongside with expensive equipment and buildings in the lower reaches of the academy.

For now all we can do is pray, and wait for the results of our attempts to bear fruit.

…
…

A month has passed since we arrived at Petalburg, our subject so far has only gotten worse since our arrival and it would appear that they are a lost cause.

One of the town doctors has prescribed to Scarab a low dosage of antibiotic herbal medicine to deal with his disease but I know that pathetic garbage will not aid him in the slightest. His hind leg is lost, completely overwhelmed by fungal growth and that his body is reacting negatively to our own medicine. We have also taken note and notice that whenever Scarab coughs he would sometimes eject fungal-laced phlegm and it has the same consistency of mold.

One of the assistants delicately placed it within a glass jar for safe transport and study back at our camp. I fear that it may be another means of spreading the infection to others and we have all started to wear full muzzle masks whenever we interact with Scarab.

Another thing to take notice that Scarab’s aggression levels has risen considerably over the month, to the point that he struck his own brother the moment he entered the room.

We have since long placed him into a tavern room for isolation to see if he has been infected from both the physical assault and from being coughed on.

Here is hoping that the Weave is watching over us and that this ends here.

I am starting to fear that this may be worse than anything we have ever seen or will ever see.

…
…

This is far worse than we can possibly imagine! We thought we can contain Scarab and limit his interactions with other changelings would prevent the disease from spreading but we were wrong! When we discovered that his brother was infected with the fungal disease we immediately sealed him in the tavern room and used magic to deliver food and inspect him from a distance but that was also when we discovered that Para, Echo, and Taurig along with their guards were infected.

The three were infected via the lungs, filled with fungal growths as they had continual exposure to the plague whenever they entered his room without wearing the full proper protective attire, and now they are laying the price for it. And as for their guards, they were infected when Scarab’s aggressive actions injured them via scratches and bites. For the time being they are sealed up within their tents, magic filters allowing them to breath still but now they are on a doom clock and have to record all that they can before the aggression phase kicks in.

And as for myself, Krabb, Toxi, and Etan, our workload grew and was stacked against us and we feared that there is no hope of curing this disease as we still have no clue on how to combat it.

Medicine and magic have proven to be ineffective, emotions are still a no-go, and as far as we can tell, performing a vivisection will only put us at risk of infection if we make a mistake.

The four of us came to an unanimous agreement that we will have to set fire to our infected friends, the guards and the two brothers to prevent it from spreading.

Toxi went to go gather the necessary reagents to create the liquid pyro fuel while Etan and I went to move the infected to a single building so that they can all be burned together. It was during this process that as we have moved our infected friends and associates into the building to contain them, Krabb and I went to the home of Scarab and Stinger to carefully give them one final examination before escorting them to their final destination, but when we opened the front door to their home did we see the true horror of this plague.

Standing in the center of the living room was Scarab and Stinger, blood coating their faces, frontal portions of their body and hooves, and laying between them the still twitching and twisted remains of their mother. The eviscerated body of the poor mare reached out a hoof to us as she gurgled out sounds that failed to formulate into words before said hoof dropping as the light leaves her eyes just when her children stop ripping into her carcass to look at us.

The moment I saw those soulless eyes stare at us, blood dripping off their muzzles as we stood there in silence, I gave the the order to barricade the door and set fire to the house. My guards pulled me back before slamming the door shut just in time as two loud thuds collided with the door that was followed by scratching and clicking sounds and the feral clicking and hissing of the infected occupants within. Krabb and his guards began to shoot flames from their horns, low-level fire cantrips as neither of my friend nor the guards were true practitioners of the arcane arts.

Flames crackled and flickered as it slowly spread across the roof and walls of the home, several onlookers were confused as to what was happening and when they came towards us to inquire what is happening to the Wayfinder’s home, the sounds of glass shattering alerted us all that our containment has failed.

Screaming.

That was what happened next.

The two brothers broke through two different windows on the other side of the house and they began to attack anyling that they could get their hooves and fangs on.

It was madness, madness all around us as the order and peace we tried to keep together fell apart as the two brothers fell upon those unfortunate souls who could not get away from them, leaving us no choice to put them down as we have failed to find a means of a cure.

We gave one final order to our guards, to put down as many infected as they can. And should they become one of them, to self terminate for the good of the hive.

As Krabb and I ran away from the residence we headed toward our commandeered house and quickly grabbed all that we can shove into our saddle bags, whatever we can’t carry must be protected should another group find whatever will remain of this village and try their own hooves at finding a cure or means of vaccination to this horrible blight. Placing the runestone onto the table next to the research papers we are leaving behind I activated the magical device as it created a shield around the table and itself, protecting all within it from aging and any external effects.

“That is all we can do, now my friend, we must evacuate all that we can, those infected won’t leave us quietly and those uninfected will say that those that are diseased are safe. We just saw firsthoof that is not the case.”

“Yes Para, I guess that leaves us no choice then.”

“Indeed, we must commence the rite of purgation immediately if we are to stop this madness from spreading out and infecting the outlying communities.”

“May the queen forgive us, and may the townsfolk have mercy on our souls.”

The two of us brought our horns together as we levitated out from within its sealed confines an obsidian box, runes wrenched across its surface as magic radiated from the cracks in its casing.

Only in the most dire of circumstances was relics like this ever used in the Underhive, from the few plagues and pestilences we have had to deal with and the Umber Hulk colony that appeared within our tunnels, and now we must use it on yet another plague.

‘Oh Sacred Weave, guide your faithful to paradise, for these souls are innocent of all crimes and pure of heart and spirit.’

With the relic placed upon the floor and our horns crossed we began to chant the words for this most sacred and perilous of rites bestowed upon changelingkind, for even the most minor of mistakes, the most minute of incorrect incantations, can either spell disaster for the casters, or for the entire region, depending if it was intentional or not.

But for us we must get this right, we will be giving this town a few minutes to evacuate with all post haste or else they risk absolute obliteration of both body and soul.

We spoke in the ancient tongue of our kin before we have ascended from feral beasts writhing in the mud, our chant was felt first before it was heard, and with it all within the town knew that something powerful and beyond their comprehension was happening.

But it also alerted those that were infected that we were attempting to stop them.

Like a reaction from the body dealing with a sickness, the infected rushed towards us from all directions. The two brothers came at us from the front door covered in more blood and gore, our friends crashed through the windows in a mixed haze of blood and confusion, not entirely sure why they just did that, and the guards came in through the back door in shower of splinters and dust.

All of the infected were looking at us, the two brothers glaring at us in rage barely held back, my friends kept shifting between hatred and fear, and the guards were flat, unable to emote as they knew what were trying to do.

When they lunged at us we stopped the ritual to put up a protective shield around us to keep us safe, but when we both turned away from the relic to do this, we have made the terrible mistake of not appointing the anchor for the relic and who would supply the mana to activate it.

The obsidian relic wobbled and shuddered as the stream of mana that we were giving to it has stopped flowing and it started to destabilize and begin to unravel. For all of my knowledge on the relic shuddering before us I have forgotten just how dangerous this artifact was and what it means to fail the ritual when it begins or near its end. Even though we have only gave it a little bit of our combined mana to activate it, it was still more than enough to allow it to cause a chain reaction from within its depths.

But there was still time for one last gamble.

“Para, we are out of time.”

“I know.”

“We must go our separate ways. I will take the relic and lure them away, you must take all you can carry and any anyling who will follow you to safety.”

“But you die.”

“Yea, yeah I will die. But you will live and carry with you the knowledge our queen will need to fight this plague.”

“But I can’t leave-“

“You can and you will. For the hive.”

Those were the last words he said to me before he dropped the shield that was protecting us both and transitioned into a teleportation spell and sent me away, leaving himself at behind to contend with the full fury of the infected.

…
…

One moment I was standing beside my best friend, and the next I was laying down on top of a bunch of moss and lichen on the outskirts of the town.

I saw plumes of smoke as the buildings burned brightly, the screams and cries of my fellow changelings as they fled their home en masse, but what made it worse was that my friends were still in there.

Upon getting up and just as I was about to take off and fly back to the town, a bright flash of emerald light illuminated the caverns around me and bathed all in it’s baleful ephemeral glow before fading out of existence.

My eyes were filled with blinking dots and rendered my vision useless while my body wobbled and bowed from the concussive sensation that tore through the air, and when it all ended I was rendered speechless at the sight left before me.

Petalburg, gone, annihilated, destroyed, it was simply no more. From its outskirts were a few scattered houses and fences untouched from the blast, but past them there was only smoking and smoldering ruins, falling apart as they can no longer support the weight they once were able to. At its epicenter there was a thin crater, maybe a meter deep but its radius was larger, the size of the house it was trapped within when it detonated.

Getting my bearings together I pushed myself to take flight and once in the air I got a full bearing as to what has occurred and the consequences of our failure.

There was no life remaining in Petalburg, the relic’s cataclysmic destruction ensured that nothing will remain when it went off. This town is now nothing more than dilapidated buildings and smoldering bricks and wood, anyling that wasn’t fast enough to get out in time has been reduced to dust and echoes as I saw their afterimage forever etched onto the floor and walls. Going further into the town I only saw more ruins and images of changelings, and when I finally got to its epicenter there I was correct in my assumption, that my friend was no longer here along with any of our friends who turned against us.

All that remained was the barrier surrounding some of our research notes and his supplies he placed in the dome.

“Farewell, my dearest friend. I will see you again soon, and hopefully see you with good news.”

Grabbing what little wood and stone that remained nearby I created a grave marker for my friend, and etched into the stone his name, it was all I can give him for now.

…
…

I am Para, the last surviving member of the medical expedition relief squad that was sent to Petalburg.

All of my friends have either died from their injuries brought about from the infected, or stayed behind to stall the inevitable for as long as possible. My guards are also all dead, they gave their lives to save as many civilians as they can when they tried to stop the infected from spreading their plague. The civilians of the town are scattered, they all ran or flew in every direction possible but I know that over half of them flew towards the Hollow, the rest in the direction of the capital.

I do not know just how many infected are still alive or if they managed to escape the unstable relic’s detonation.

But what I do know…

Is that if this plague manages to reach the capital and my warning is not received…

Then all life as I know it will end.

The underground will fall first as all paths lead to either the other hives or directly into the dog warrens.

And when those fall, they will rush towards the surface and the surfacers will not know what is coming until it is far too late.

Weave have mercy on us all.

Author's Note

Sorry for the massive delay