Coming curse.

[Rhaine]

Temple of Asmodeus. A month ago.

"You're acting recklessly, Rhaine. What if they learn the truth?" Saelbain spoke calmly.
"They have no way to. If you see some flaws in my planning, please do tell."
"How would you have the disease coming to RhyDin? It can't appear out of nowhere."
"Easy, Sael. There's an old wooden barque coming to the Dockside soon, from Zerrhican ports as far as I remember. And before you ask anything else - I'm not going to inform Artemus about my plans, neither I have ever told him about my plans here."
"As if you won't tell him when it's over. Do you really think he won't betray you? Especially taking into account the estimated number of victims? And if anyone else deciphers our scheme behind all this? Do you think you need another Witch Hunt?"
"They don't have the skill to examine the virus properly, Sael. Mentari could suspect something, but not these... simians," she spoke with a smirk.
"Just be prepared for anything," the Baatezu said, turning around.

Rhaine paused. She knew she would never tell Artemus. But how could one live with this kind of secret lurking in the back of their mind? No...no doubts she could afford. She could hesitate in the Rings, or in some complex research, but here - never. Just do it. You don't have to inform the man you are attached to. You don't have to inform any outsider. In the end, it's a dh'oine world, and these are to be nothing but a playground. In your favorite game of Design.

She returned to her quarters and launched the target teleport system. The barquentine turned out to be old and smelly, with rats abundant - too many rats per one cat, for sure. Obeying the call, the rats came to flock near her feet. Tiny dots of engineered fleas jumped out of a silver box she
held, to find a shelter on the well-fed rodents.

Dockside District. Two weeks later.

An old barquentine finally touched the moor, rubbing with wooden sides against the long-awaited shore. The letters on her side read "Catrione". Few noises escaped the ship - the crew now has dwindled to four or five members. An orange-colored cat walked out, slipping behind boxes and barrels. For a while the cat stopped to vomit the blooded contents of his stomach. A thin trail of blood marred his nose. A few fleas hopped onto a rat that came up to check out if the predator was finally dead.

In a few days children of Johanssons, a family of old carpenter and a seamstress, brought home a flea-ridden kitten from the docks. The being looked sick, covered with large papules, coughing.
"Mom, may we try to help the kitty?" the youngest daughter asked.

==================================
((OOC))
Please don't play an all-knowing godmode being that has the ability to figure out this scene before anything is known to public. In the end, Temple of Asmodeus is supposed to be well protected from scrying.

[Rhaine]

Basic description:

The disease starts with a fever, pain in all muscles and joints, and continues with a rash, blood clotting problems, later on - jaundice, pancreatitis, weight loss, delirium and neuropsychiatric symptoms, haemorrhaging, hypovolemic shock and multi-organ dysfunction (similar to Marbug fever).
Besides, it causes extreme sharpening of regular senses, which is a side effect of magical side of the disease. For pathology, see basic description of Ebola and Marburg. The disease is transmitted via classic route - bodily fluids, plus cats, dogs (fleas), and simply bloodsuckers (including vampires).

On the magical level, it causes an overload of magical fields within a body. In most non-magic users (those who aren't using innate gift) this results in either neuropsychiatric symptoms, or chaotic displays of magical ability. A latent magic gift would be either awakened, or (in case of really small gift) burned out, thus burning out a good part of nerve system. A magic user affected would have acute symptoms of hemorrhagic fever, plus sensory overload (which results in high fatality rates among naturally magically gifted races). A completely ungifted victim is unlikely to exist, as according to some theories all of the living beings are gifted with a certain aptitude for magic (at least existence of magical field within them), but in majority of living beings the gift remains dormant. The overload is relieved by using magical gift - either morph (of shifters) or casting (for regular casters).

The disease answers non-magical treatment with virus using magic-based matrix, and magical treatment - with using only non-magical replication of viral RNA which increases in length.


List of effects by race:

Humans:
Classic hemorrhagic fever, with Ebola-like symptoms, plus magical effect. Incubation from 2 to 4 days. Fatality rate - 80%.
Elves, Fae:
Fatality rate over 90%, it seriously damages magical abilities, and seems generally more acute, with bleeding from body orifices.
Gnomes, Dwarves:
Less fatality rate, less acute symptoms
Elementals:
Fatality rate not over 30%, symptoms resemble flu, with seldom happening internal bleeding if there is any blood.
Shifters/Morphlings:
Same as humans, with less fatality rate, frequent morphs reduce the effects, though the being is weakened by the virus significantly, so morphing is harder.
Vampires/liches/other undead:
Immune
Dragons:
Nearly immune (just some diarrhea and flu).

[Rhaine]

"I take my words back, partner. Your design appears to be beautiful, and the accumulators work perfectly. Enough to see the reason the Lord has kept you in existence, despite using diseases being more like Morrigu modus operandi."
"I'm surprised by the quiet. Looks like this city is ignoring the fact of disease."
"It's not that surprising, Rhaine. Mortals tend to fear such thoughts and calm themselves with the idea that the plague won't get to them. Foolish, but who are we to deny them the right of reckless choice."
"But it will get them, sooner or later. Those who survive, will end up being both immune and activated. I'm just upset there is no publicity, and no chance for a good chess-game."

Arms crossed on her chest, she paced back and forth around her quarters in the Temple. Smooth black velvet-like fabric of her dress flowed with the move, bare shoulders and arms radiantly pale against that blackness. Bare feet submerging in the soft lining of the floor, letting no sound betray the nervous pace.

"Refreshing to see you back to the shape you were in Clandestine," the devil spoke approvingly, "Looks like you have finally recovered."
"I have even more work done already than you think, Sael."
"Meaning the Leap?"
"Right."

Her laughter could have chilled a star into freezing. "The Leap serves two purposes minimum, as it is in our custom. First - create the human resource base for us. Second - to unite human magic ability with the power granted to my colleagues. To create a new race which would replace the humans of Mentar. The plague is a test as well as a way to activate dh'oine. Those of the Leap are completely immune to it," she paced in circles, taking occasional glances at the terminal.
"Your ambition is delicious. As well as your skill. I'm surprised actually that you've decided to return to this existence," Saelbain spoke with a certain possible share of excitement and admiration.
"My soul is in His hand. While I serve Him, I live."

Rhaine stopped, and stared at the central spire of the worship hall. "While I serve Him, I live," she repeated quietly.