Telmon's Scourge

A disease that wrought unpresedented havoc to the world

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n the year 5875 after the events of the Cosmogony, chronologically near the middle of the era known as Neyrvelë, during a particularly hot and humid summer, an illness took hold over the populace of Lugòrnno, a maritime kingdom in southwest Sòvoth. Scholars of the era noted that the first reports of the illness came from the port town of Kengèrnatha, which at the time functioned as a replenishment station for provisions such as fresh water, coal, wheat flour, cured meats and alcoholic drinks, mostly accommodating the needs of the ships traversing the trade routes of the South Ermothine Sea. At the time it was hypothesised that the crew of one such ship coming from faraway lands must have been responsible for bringing this newfound malady to Lugòrnno, though to this day its exact origins remain a mystery.

At first the aforementioned illness was mistakenly diagnosed as summer fever, a disease all too common during the summer months, especially in temperate climates such as that of south Sòvoth. The initial symptoms of both afflictions shared many similarities, including (as the name suggests) an onset of sudden fever, accompanied by abnormally increased perspiration, body aches, persistent coughing and malaise. However, whereas summer fever usually subsided after four or so days and was rarely fatal for otherwise healthy individuals, in patients afflicted by this new ailment the fever could last for at least thirty or so days, and it would not subside through the use of common poultices and layperson's remedies. Furthermore, after a few days the patients would start coughing up blood due to pulmonary exertion, while dark spots would appear scattered throughout the body. As the illness progressed, these spots would gradually transform into enlarged blisters which would eventually rupture, bursting with blood and a foul-smelling liquid akin to green pus, causing excruciating pain to those afflicted. Without the use of magical treatments or divine blessings, or even -to a lesser extent- the services of an accomplished doctor, all of which were hard to procure, more than eight out of every ten infected patients would eventually perish, usually after a prolonged and agonising illness. Physicians, scholars and healers named this terrible new disease aûckmolpo, meaning "ailment of blood and bile" in the Scedorronish language, while the general public initially called it the Lugòrnnan plague, named after the realm in which it originated. Nevertheless, within two mere weeks from the onset of the epidemic in Kengèrnatha, the illness spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom of Lugòrnno and via the nautical trade routes it reached even the farthest corners of Sòvoth in a matter of months.

The empire of Voggsàlka, whose territories amounted to nearly half the breadth of the continent, was especially afflicted. The Voggsàlkan emperor at the time, Telmon à Cuynnem, whose reign had been mostly uneventful up until that point, proved to be an incompetent and weak ruler at such a critical moment for the fate of the realm. Firstly, he paid no heed to the initial suggestions of his court physicians, who urged him to declare a mandatory quarantine in the most afflicted provinces of the empire, and to temporarily halt all trade with the rest of Sòvoth in an effort to contain the spreading of aûckmolpo. Ιn essence, the Emperor was detached from the struggles of the populace, residing in his lavish, sprawling, and majestic imperial palace (located in the idyllic countryside a few leagues outside Lothanvòst, the imperial capital), purposefully isolated from any meaningful contact with his sublects. He was also heavily influenced by the demurrals coming from the numerous merchant guilds -who claimed that any disruption of the trade routes would result in immense economic upheaval- so he resolved to not interfere in the matter and let the disease run its course. Unfortunately, after months of utter inaction, he was forced to acknowledge the severity of the situation, when by that point aûckmolpo had spread in every major city, nearly every single town, and the vast majority of the villages throughout the empire.

Furthermore, his imperial majesty was equally inept at handling the situation once the illness had solidified its presence and had turned into a continent-wide pandemic by the winter of 5875. All around the territories of the empire, aûckmolpo was responsible for thousands of deaths on a daily basis, and the realm was brought to its knees. Collectively the members of all vocations who provided medical care, such as physicians, apothecaries, nurses, healers of all sorts, magick practitioners versed in medicine, clerics and priests gifted with the blessing of healing by their respective deities, all of them were struggling -and failing- to meet the sudden and urgent demand for their medical services, since the sick outnumbered them more than ten thousand to one. The severe lack of organised healthcare facilities funded by the Crown, such as hospitals and sanatoriums, was the largest contributor to this predicament. In the centuries prior, most of the reigning emperors had neglected the upkeep of the admittedly few public houses of healing, all of which were situated only in prominent, populous cities (and sadly none was to be found in smaller towns, villages or hamlets). Instead, people relied mostly on individuals, doctors and pellars alike, or sought the aid of independent places of healing, which were either under the care of temples and religious orders (such as the devotees of Herrdjywim, god of agape and compassion), or were secular in nature (such as the sister-schools of Vendelinoc Ghe'eti). It would also be pertinent to acknowledge the unprecedented stability, prosperity, and relatively high standard of living permeating all socioeconomic classes in the Voggsàlkan Empire during the first three quarters of the 59th century, which seemingly rendered any provision for the future or any foresight to be considered unnecessary.

Consequently, the impact of aûckmolpo was especially devastating for the Voggsàlkan Curimot, significantly more so that the other nations of Sòvoth. The plague's reign on the continent lasted for nearly a decade, from the summer of 5875 till the spring of 5883, when the last known deaths caused by the illness were recorded in Lothanvòst. Within this time period, the Voggsàlkan Empire’s population decreased to one third of its initial inhabitants at the beginning of the plague, as indeed millions upon millions died of aûckmolpo and its complications. Additionally, in the midst of the pandemic, a famine broke out during the autumn and winter months of the year 5877, since aûckmolpo had ravaged the population of the provinces responsible for producing the lion’s share of wheat and other grains for the empire, and as a result there was not enough manpower to tend to the fields. The subsequent scarcity of food available led to widespread starvation of the population, especially the lower classes, which in turn caused an unprecedented public disdain and societal unrest. Many protests and riots took place in nearly all urban centres of the empire (which were its most populous regions) and in some cases the anger and desperation of the famished led them to join forces with brigands, robbers and other opportunists, essentially resulting in the forming of mobs. These extremist riotous groups would arm themselves with wooden clubs, torches and other makeshift weapons, then would proceed to break into the estates of the wealthy and affluent, especially those belonging to the imperial nobility, where they would engage in pillaging, theft, vandalism, arson, and on occasions physically harming, maiming or even lynching particularly detested figures, such as provocative displayers of wealth, corrupt politicians, ruthless landowners, and extortionate moneylenders, claiming to thusly administer extrajudicial justice.

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midst this violent and polarizing societal turmoil, the Emperor finally decided to intervene, particularly after being pressed to do so by the concerned nobles, courtiers, affluent individuals, and government officials, who were distressed by the public’s unparalleled disdain for them and the tangible threat they were facing. In order to counteract the illicit activities of the riotous mobs, Telmon ordered a few battalions of the imperial army to be dispatched and to advance into the most prominent cities of the Voggsàlkan Empire, where most dissidents naturally were to be found. More precisely, he tasked them with the decree to “enforce the imperial laws, punish those who broke them, and restore the emperor’s peace in the realm with whichever means deemed necessary”. Needless to say, the events that transpired could only be described as an ever-expanding series of tragedies. The army officials, eager to appease the emperor and the disgruntled nobility, encouraged their soldiers to exert unnecessarily large amounts of force to crush any and all opposition, essentially giving them the liberty to be mercilessly violent against their own countrymen.

As a result of such proclamations, the general populace felt slighted and enraged by the hostility with which they were treated, and by the accusations of being criminals as a whole, since the emperor’s commands had purposefully not distinguished between the famished protesters merely asking for food, and the illicit mobs who were a law unto themselves. Regardless of their differences, however, those two groups were treated almost with the same brutality. The imperial battalions marched into the cities which had been the focal points of protests -such as the imperial capital of Lothanvòst, the port-cities of Foskḗlwe and Novŏndro in west Scèdorron, Thuryel-ä-Qidrast in the flatlands, and the mountainous Goruḯmmoc- where they acted both with swiftness and unrelenting force. What followed was nothing short of a massacre. The thousands upon thousands of rioting crowds were met with the unsheathed blades of the soldiers, and the cities were painted in the blood of their slaughtered citizens. The battalions hunted down the fleeing rioters as if chasing retreating armies on a battlefield, and by the time the crowds were dispersed, countless limbless corpses, severed heads, and headless bodies were strewn all over the cobbled streets. Those who managed to escape the carnage barricaded themselves in their homes, fearing for their lives, and dared not go outside for many weeks. Similarly, the entire urban population, flabbergasted and utterly horrified, dared not emerge from their homes and into the streets until the armies had finally left the cities and had returned to their respective imperial garrisons. Nevertheless, the military commanders declared this outcome a triumphant success, since in their own depraved minds peace and order had been reinstated at last.

In the aftermath of those horrific events, a few things were of particular note. According to historical texts of that era, more than a million citizens were killed during the military’s slaughters and accompanying attempts at restoring order throughout the Voggsàlkan Empire, although in later centuries some scholars surmised that such numbers were exaggerated. What remained undisputed, however, was the unequivocal public disdain and outright hatred towards Emperor Telmon, who was considered to be the foremost perpetrator of the massacres. He was thenceforth viewed by the public as a vile and cruel tyrant, while the aforementioned events were immortalized in the annals of history as Telmon’s Carnage. Furthermore, the scorn for the emperor was so ubiquitous, that first the Voggsàlkans and soon afterwards the entire continent of Sòvoth colloquially gave aûckmolpo the byname Telmon’s Scourge, and rightly so, since the emperor’s actions -and inactions- greatly exacerbated the spreading of the disease. Additionally, the events leading to Telmon’s Carnage inadvertently caused a rise in the prevalence of aûckmolpo. In particular, the gatherings of hundreds of thousands in the streets of metropolitan centres in protest during the famine of 5877, meant that asymptomatic carriers of aûckmolpo were in close proximity to many a healthy person, and thus tens of thousands more contracted the illness. Similarly, many soldiers were also exposed to the pathogen while carving bloody paths through the protesting crowds, and later carried the disease to their respective garrisons, resulting in a gigantic death toll for the army. Self-evidently, all those otherwise avoidable deaths sadly contributed to further the decrease of the entire Voggsàlkan population, which in turn had numerous disastrous and long-lasting consequences for the Empire.

Lastly, another unforeseen consequence of Telmon’s Scourge lay in the fact that the famine was not addressed in any way by the Emperor or other imperial officials. After all the slaughters, public executions and tortures, the populace was horrified into submission and dared not protest any longer. When the armies departed the cities, however, the corpses of the murdered citizens were left unattended, without having been buried or even removed from the streets and other public spaces. Thereupon was the birth of a phenomenon which lasted throughout the winter of 5877, that of widespread cannibalism. The urban populations were those most affected by the famine, since they were reliant on trade with the rural areas of the empire for their food supply, whereas in the countryside people were for the most part able to avoid starvation through cultivating their own crops (at least those who owned a plot of land), through husbandry, hunting, and even foraging. Therefore, with the urban populations having no such options, many people dying of hunger in their desperation retrieved, cooked and ate the corpses of the slaughtered. Once there were no more corpses to be found in the streets, however, is when true depravity emerged. The most ruthless among those who had engaged in cannibalism suggested that aûckmolpo-stricken patients could be potential sources of fresh meat, since according to their reasoning “they were condemned to die soon enough anyway”. This slippery slope of fallacy also led on occasions to killing and cannibalising the elderly, as in a similar vein they too would soon be deceased. Thankfully, not many people adhered to that twisted sense of rationalizing, but it was a common secret at the time that some households murdered their sick and elderly in order to consume them. Nonetheless, the cadavers of those who eventually died of the plague, other ailments, or old age, were usually consumed as well. When finally the spring of 5878 came, and with it a new batch of cultivated plants sprouted in the fields, any acts of cannibalism ceased (for the most part), but their memory would haunt the city folk for many years to come. The local authorities did turn a blind eye, though, because they suspected that had the Emperor been aware of cannibalistic behaviours among his subjects, he would most likely have ordered the utter annihilation of entire cities in the name of his precious justice.

The end of Telmon's Scourge in the Voggsàlkan Empire was officially declared in the summer of 5883, a few months after the other realms of Sòvoth. Emperor Telmon himself had died some years back, in the autumn of 5879, succumbing to septicaemia after an agonising, two month-long illness caused by aûckmolpo, his namesake, in a clear example of cosmic irony. However, aûckmolpo still plagued other continents, such as Ermoth to the northwest and Makjiolle to the south of Sòvoth, and the illness would sporadically cause smaller-scale epidemics throughout Medrenwell as far as the beginning the 61st century. The impact of aûckmolpo's plague was vast and undeniable, especially due to its tremendous repercussions for the realms it afflicted, the populations it ravaged, the cultures, societal norms, customs and ideals it upended, as well as the new perspectives which it sired.

"Darkest beyond compare are the times when the sight of death becomes so common an occurence, that you regard it dully, as if gazing at a passing cloud in the midday sky. Such were the times of Telmon's Scourge, when mere existence was synonymous with despair, and when common sence became indistinguishable from folly."

— Herelthos, Exalted Historian, 5886 aC.

Aûckmolpo, the subject matter of this entry, is colloquially also known as:
• Telmon's Scourge
• The Lugòrnnan Plague
• The Torturous Malady

It is typically transmitted via close contact with a carrier of the disease. Coexisting in the same household, being physically intimate, coming into contact with the carrier's saliva (either airborne droplets through sneezing, coughing, or in other manners), standing in very close proximity, or even using the same objects that an infected individual has also touched recently, can all lead to the transmission of the disease.

The death of Emperor Telmon à Cuynnem of the Voggsàlkan Curimòt in the year 5879 after the Cosmogony, as depicted in a historical codex of the late Neyrvelë era.