The spring brought with it more than just color and warmth to the land of Albion. With it came a plague of which none had ever witnessed. It began in a small town outside of Lyonness. A local villager came out of the woods terrified and barely able to speak. His ramblings were so dillusional that people took him as a mad man who had too much to drink. A wealthy man took him to the local inn and paid to his stay for the night. By morning the man covered in black welts, his fingers had turned black in color and he lacked the strength to even move. By nightfall three of his fingers had fallen off at the knuckle, and the welts on his body began to burst, leaking a white substance. By the next morning he was nothing more than a mutilated piece of flesh. That day five more people became ill. By the end of the week, hundreds of Albion men, women, and children were ill as well.

The Albion king set up a stockade preventing anyone from entering or exiting the east side of