Sketch made his way through the woods of Scara Brae to the village of Lorne. According to his friend, Nevin, Lorne had attempted to find medicine of all sorts after some disaster had broken out in their town. Sketch had made his way through the woods to see what had happened, he was a storyteller, it was his job to find stories, such as towns being destroyed.

The tall, pale man made his way through the last of the trees that separated the village from the path to Stonevale. He relished the feeling of the wind running through his shaggy dark hair, as the tree line gave way to open plains. He looked around him and saw fields of dead crops as far as the eye could see, their dead husks rotting in the sun.

Lorne was known for its agriculture, the mountains to the north of the town allowing its water to hold huge amounts of nutrients that allowed the crops and livestock to thrive. Sketch had no doubt that the “disaster” he’d heard about was some disease that ravaged the surrounding area. He walked around the dead stalks of corn that should be thriving in late summer, and tried to find a proper road that lead the village center. The buzzing of insects filled the air around him as he made his way through.

Sketch wasn’t sure what plague had enveloped the area, but he couldn’t remember ever having smelled something so vile as the rotting, sunbaked husks that littered the farms. He had to take his cloak off and cover his face to keep the biting flies from entering his nose and ears. Eventually, he made his way to a main road that lead into the town.

The road wound between several farms that were littered with innumerable rotting vegetables, and as Sketch made his way towards the village center, he even saw the rotting corpses of herds of cattle and horses. When the village was in view, Sketch began to smell smoke on the wind, and could see multiple black spirals working their way up towards the sky. The front gates of the village were almost completely blocked by a wooden coach, several men wearing face masks and long, red robes were unloading several casks and crates from the top.

Sketch made his way to the gates and waved down one of the men, attempting to start a conversation. One of the men stopped unloading the cart and made his way to Sketch. “I’m sorry sir, the village of Lorne is under quarantine, there’s an extremely viral plague running rampant, and until the cause and nature of the blight can be ascertained, travel in and out of the village is prohibited.”

“I understand completely doctor, I just wanted to ask about the conditions of the town, and inquire as to what happened with in. I saw the fields and farms, is the town in the same shape?” Sketch asked the man, making sure to keep the cloak over his face to try and filter the air after hearing the news of the blight.

“The town is a graveyard sir. There’s no man or woman alive inside. We’re sanitizing and sterilizing the remains, in attempts to stop the plague from spreading. The symptoms include massive boils and legions, as well as bleeding coughs. Make sure you clean yourself thoroughly with lye sir, we’re not sure how the plague spreads or is contracted.” The man said, “There’s only one other thing we know about this incident, that there’s absolutely no children inside the town, at least no corpses anyway.”