Color Focus - Common Diseases
If you are reading this, then one of three things is true:
You are cautious.
You are curious.
Or you have already made a mistake and are now attempting to negotiate with consequences.
Only one of these tends to end well.
These are the most common - if such a thing can be said with a straight face - afflictions to be found in Ville des Marai. What follows are my most abbreviated observations; they should suffice for anyone possessed of a functional mind and a modest command of language.
If they do not, I shall assume you are a barbarian from the cold North, a mindless undead, or - in the most unfortunate cases - a barrister.
Anthrax - The Ragpicker’s Regret
Anthrax is what happens when one handles dead things with the optimism of the living. Wool, hides, and other “perfectly harmless trade goods” have a distressing tendency to disagree.
It begins quietly - a cough, a chill, the sort of discomfort one might dismiss with tea and poor judgment. Then, quite suddenly, your lungs decide they would rather not participate in your continued survival. The transition is… decisive.
If you suspect it, burn whatever you touched. If you are feeling generous, warn others. If you are feeling realistic, leave quickly and let someone else make the announcement.
Bog Rot - The Swamp’s Claim
Bog rot is less an illness and more a negotiation with the land - one you are not winning.
The pustules arrive early, green and glistening in a manner that suggests enthusiasm. They pulse faintly, as though something beneath the skin is considering its options. Eventually, one will rupture. They always do. That is when the situation becomes communal.
If someone nearby says “it’s not so bad,” they are either lying, delusional, or already lost. In all cases, step away. Preferably quickly, and without touching anything that looks moist.
Brainworms - Shared Thoughts, Poor Company
There is something almost admirable about brainworms. Individually insignificant, collectively devastating - rather like certain committees I have known.
The early signs are easy to miss: hesitation, forgetfulness, a slight dulling of wit. Then comes the shift. Sudden aggression, strange decisions, and a growing tendency to solve problems with violence.
If your companion apologizes immediately after attempting to stab you, do not accept the apology. Accept that their mind is no longer entirely their own. Distance is advisable. Permanent distance, if necessary.
Bubonic Plague - The City’s Undoing
The plague is not merely a disease. It is an event.
It reshapes cities, empties streets, and reveals just how fragile “civilization” truly is. The swellings are unmistakable, the fever relentless, and the smell… memorable.
People will avoid you. This is not cruelty. It is efficiency. Should bells begin tolling with suspicious frequency, take that as your cue to leave. If you cannot leave, then do not expect visitors.
Cholera - The Betrayal of Water
Water, one assumes, is meant to sustain life. Cholera finds this assumption deeply amusing.
It empties you. Thoroughly. Repeatedly. With a level of enthusiasm that borders on vindictive. Strength vanishes, clarity follows, and before long you are negotiating with gravity.
If you value your continued existence, treat water with suspicion. Boil it, bless it, glare at it if necessary. Trusting it blindly is how this entry becomes relevant to you.
Dysentery - The Slow Humiliation
Dysentery is not dramatic. It does not roar. It does not strike with flair.
It simply dismantles you.
Strength fades, hydration becomes a strategic concern, and dignity is abandoned somewhere along the way. Entire armies have been reduced to miserable, ineffective shadows by this most unglamorous of afflictions.
If it begins, address it immediately. Pride is not a cure, and stubbornness is not a treatment plan.
Grave Rot - A Courtesy to Necromancers
Grave Rot is, in its way, efficient. One might even call it considerate - particularly if one is a necromancer.
You will feel cold first. Then wrong. Then irrelevant, as your flesh quietly resigns from its position. Within the hour of your death, your bones will find new employment.
If you suspect infection, seek magical cleansing immediately. Failing that, have a very direct conversation with your companions about what is to be done with your remains. Be specific. They will hesitate otherwise, and hesitation is how you become a problem.
Lantern Fever - The Invitation You Should Decline
You will see a light.
It will not belong there. It will not behave correctly. It will seem… interesting. This is how it begins.
Curiosity becomes fascination. Fascination becomes devotion. Before long, you are walking toward it with the quiet certainty that this is the correct decision.
It is not.
If your companion says, “Do you see that?”, your answer should be “No,” followed immediately by leaving. If you do see it, then I am afraid you are already involved.
Leprosy - The Long Goodbye
Leprosy is not cruel in haste. It is cruel in patience.
It alters the body slowly, visibly, and in ways society finds deeply inconvenient. The greater suffering often comes not from the disease itself, but from the distance others place between themselves and you.
You may live with it for years. Quite competently, in fact. Which only makes the isolation more pronounced.
Whether it is a curse, a condition, or simply an unfortunate reality depends entirely on who is speaking. None of those opinions will make it go away.
Malaria - The Rhythm of Misery
Malaria does not stay. It visits.
Fever rises, breaks, and returns with renewed enthusiasm, each cycle leaving you weaker than before. One moment you are functional; the next, you are shaking and contemplating your life choices.
If you hear insects in still, wet air, consider that your first warning. If you ignore it, the second will arrive shortly - and it will be internal.
Mononucleosis - A Lesson Learned Indirectly
This one I did not suffer personally - being, as I am, somewhat inconveniently resistant to such things. A halfling acquaintance of mine, however, was not so fortunate.
He contracted it through what he enthusiastically described as “a promising romantic development.” Weeks later, he was exhausted beyond reason, unable to think clearly, sleep properly, or speak without consequence. His enthusiasm diminished in direct proportion to his ability to remain conscious.
I do not recommend acquiring it in this manner. I do not recommend acquiring it at all. But if you must learn from experience, I strongly advise ensuring it is not this one.
Pneumonia - The Finishing Touch
Pneumonia rarely arrives first. It prefers to conclude matters.
Breathing becomes work. Then effort. Then negotiation. The body, already weakened, finds itself unable to continue arguing for survival.
If it appears, act immediately. This is not a condition that rewards optimism. It rewards intervention. Without it, the outcome is… consistent.
Rabies - The Unraveling
Rabies is deeply unsettling because it takes the mind before the body.
Confusion, agitation, and a most unfortunate aversion to water follow. The afflicted may lash out, not from malice, but from a complete breakdown of reason.
Once symptoms appear, options narrow considerably. If you suspect exposure, do not delay. This is one of the rare times panic is entirely appropriate.
Red Harvest - The Bleeding That Won’t Stop
Red Harvest ensures that every injury matters.
Small cuts become large problems. Blood flows too easily, too freely, and refuses to cooperate with your desire to remain intact. One begins to feel… structurally unsound.
It is often associated with cursed battlefields or weapons that have seen excessive enthusiasm. Whether punishment or coincidence, the result is the same: avoid injury at all costs.
I appreciate that this is inconvenient advice.
Smallpox - Survival, With Evidence
Smallpox is thorough.
The fever is intense, the lesions unmistakable, and survival - should you manage it - comes with permanent reminders. The body heals, but not quietly.
Some wear the scars with pride. Others hide them. Both approaches are understandable.
Either way, the disease ensures you will not forget it. As if that were ever a concern.
Tetanus - The Locked Silence
Tetanus begins quietly, which is rather unfair given how it proceeds.
Muscles tighten, then lock, until even simple movement becomes an ordeal. The jaw follows, robbing you of speech and, eventually, comfort.
All from a wound you likely ignored.
Clean your injuries. Every time. I assure you, this is preferable.
Tuberculosis - The Lingering Fade
Tuberculosis does not hurry.
It lingers, cough by cough, breath by breath, until strength has quietly abandoned you. The progression is slow enough to ignore - until it is not.
In crowded places, it spreads with remarkable ease, making it as social as it is lethal.
By the time it is taken seriously, it has usually already won.
Typhoid Fever - The Invisible Guest
Typhoid is deceptive not because of what it does, but because of who carries it.
Fever rises slowly, weakness settles in, and confusion may follow. Yet some show nothing at all while spreading it freely to others. It is, in that sense, a profoundly unfair illness.
If it appears in a group, assume the source is not obvious. It rarely is.
Trust cautiously. Eat carefully. And remember that not all threats announce themselves.
Final Observation
You may have noticed that very few of these entries end well.
This is not pessimism. This is consistency.
Still, survival does occur. Rarely, inconveniently, and usually to those who act early and trust their instincts over their optimism.
If you intend to be among them, remember:
If it glows, leaks, whispers, or invites you closer - decline.
— Kelwyn