The smells of the infirmary that the Empress of the Enchanted Burho had set up were wonderful. There were several of the healing facilities set up around the Burho, and many of them he'd yet to visit, but he was sure they were equally wonderful with the blessed stench of pestilence. He wanted to visit each in turn, particular interest was directed toward the one that catered to magical afflictions and such. However, he would not be deterred from his intended course, to investigate the rumors of a strange plague arising from last season. The plague was said to target the muscle groups of the limbs, typically. This in itself would not have grabbed his specific attention, except that typically the more contagious afflictions weren't subdermal, or at least presenting as such. This was more likely a case of ingesting the bug, perhaps food borne disease, or even water.
It was that conclusion that drew his attention in specific. He wanted to know where these people had been, and if there was some connection to the plague he'd unleashed on Bastard's Grove. The goblins had fallen quickly upon his unleashing the bug upon their water supply. The autopsy he'd conducted on its corpse had gifted him with some interesting conclusions, most specifically the boils on their skin, and the absence of a splinterstone well. He had postulated that the splinterstone spread the bug through some ether-borne impetus. The energies coursing through the fractive materials he'd produced in order to turn the deadly poison into a full-blown contagion had perhaps acted upon the latent raw wells within the goblins' hearts. He was on the forefront of some very interesting discoveries. He only needed to confirm whether this plague afflicting the muscles was connected to the one he'd concocted.
Zemos walked into the infirmary, and was treated to the pleasant music of agonized groaning from the patients. He was almost tempted to whistle a tune as an accompaniment to the choral anguish, if his lips weren't so parched and decrepid in their own right.