A Certain Stillness.

[Carnath-Emory]

Myrkentown has suffered: that much is undeniable. The Rememdium closer resembles a morgue than a hospital, its lawns littered with bodies so bloodied that they're easily mistaken for corpses. Well, and during the later stages of the flux, there's not much difference. There have been some small commotions at the gates of the Wall; any guards with the sense of a gnat expect this to worsen in coming days. But Myrkentown has not been alone in its strife.

With the coming of dawn, word filters back to town -- first as a trickle, later as a flood of rumour and alarm -- of trouble in Lothbury Estate. Bloodshed, which could be accounted for by the disease; screams through the night, less easily explained. The howling of agonised beasts, wild and feral: it was this which had driven the gossipers far away, to spread their stories in whispers.

Confusion abounds, but this much is a certainty: that by the coming of the sun's first light, Lothbury's tall iron gates have been chained closed. That barricades have been erected -- from the interior; a great heap of wooden benches and tables, of doors surely torn from tall barns. Dark clouds of smoke spiral high into the air, and those bold enough to peek through that barricade have caught only a glimpse of furrowed and ruined fields, of great flaming pyres burning Faith-knows-what. Entry is impossible; so, one might presume, is escape.

In answer to disease, Lothbury has closed itself off from the world.

[Mongrel]

...and in the night a silent vandal painted a single word upon the wall beside the barricaded entrance. Written in blood for all to see was the word...

BELIEVE

[Tyralor]

"Eepi'anran'achin'e'urk" Otis declared, before pausing to solemnly spit out a stream of brown goo from his mouth. Not surprisingly, the guards had been the first to notice the display. It was merely Otis' unfortunate lot to be the senior staff member on duty, which meant that he was out there, in the early morning hours scrubbing down the wall and removing the vandal's work.

"urk'ens'uulde'eepin. Uysachye'ous'e'iptoud!" He swore, dumping the cloth into the soap filled bucket and then going back to striking the mark from the wall.

[Mongrel]

Goody Potter and Bea Kanaya walked slowly past the guard as he washed the graffiti from the wall.

Bea's eyebrows rose with concern as she read the message not yet illegible. She licked her lips and spoke softly to her companion. "You heard of that farmer and his wife that were killed up Oakhollow way, did you not, Goody Potter? I heard that she had that 'believe' carved upon her same as was written on that wall." The older woman paused for moment to swallow before continuing. "Otis can scrub all he likes at that wall, but cleaning that word off ain't going to make any of this go away."

There had been enough horrors of late that Goody Potter didn't want to think anymore of such things. She replied with a tone of chiding on her tongue. "Now, Bea, you're going to work yourself up. Let's not speak of these horrible things."

Bea took one last look over her shoulder at the bloody message and the man working so hard to make it go away. She made no effort to conceal the fear on her face. "Yes, dear," was all she said as the pair rounded the corner, but a voice in her mind continued to whisper the word…"believe."