n 1:enticing someone astray from right behavior 2: an act of winning the love of someone [syn: conquest]
The people were starving -slowly but most surely. The meat crawled with maggots, the flour filled with weevils. The crops were devoured before fragile blossoms could be born, those delicate things that were the gateway to nourishment. Those infants of foliage, birthed of the green, those that would survive the initial onslaught were only later met with a horrible fate. In the end, there was little that Myrken could spare from this tiny but large invasion to place upon their own tables.
Children cried of hungry bellies and mothers fussed over what they could not fix. At night when they thought that all within the house were asleep, when none would witness, fathers sobbed into pillows.
Woo them.
They came. These servants of the dark ones, humans who some would say have made pact with the very devil himself. They came with food. Supplies from outside of Myrken that would begin to trickle in. A caravan from here, another from there. In peace, without any show of arms and no threat. They came from this wealthy family and that, papers to prove it. Official and all quite true!
With good intentions would they journey to the far homes of farmers, slink to those within the very confines of the town, to those that suffered the most. The peasantry, the very backbone of Myrken. It was not until they darkened door steps that they whispered. They mean you well, they would croon. They wish to aid. See the bounty they supply? Untouched, untainted. No more worries. No more aching bellies. They wish only to help.
Win them.
Welcome was what the sign upon the door of the Rememdium Edificium. The building was filled between it's walls with the sick, the suffering. Certainly the had the means to heal but at what achingly slow pace?
Gifts were brought. Crates filled with relief, an elixir that would end the pains of the Bloody Flux. It would -preserve- life. See how well it works? One of their own so willingly infected by this same insect spread disease days before, one who began to show the symptoms as he sweated blood. He would drink and they would witness.
The healers would accept, or would not. Depending upon their reaction, whispers again of how the dark ones only desired to help as crates were passed within. If turned down? They would return to the homes of the farmers, seek out those that suffer for themselves. Venom poured. See how they do not care? They turn away deliverance given freely to those with little means. We care. We bring them to you directly.
Gossip is like wild fire. It takes but the right conditions for it to burn brightly, for the heat of the flames to be fanned into a great expanse.
Make them desire us. We are their salvation. I shall be their goddess.
