Xoco Mikist

BHSD One-Sheet

Acute Pesticide Exposure

Despite constant innovations in the realm of employee and human safety, accidents are inevitable. If you, a co-worker, or anyone near a site of pesticide application is overly exposed to an agent such as Virakil, you quick action DATA CORRUPTED.

IN EVENT OF PESTICIDE EXPOSURE

• Remove victim from the site of exposure
• Contact a Agrico, LTD Representative for legal guidance.
• If exposure is by skin; Rinse well with cold water. Discard Any clothing that has been contaminated with Presticides.
• ]If Exposure is inhalation; Remove victim from sight, remove any tight-fitting clothing that could restrict airways. If subject is not breathing or is blue, DATA CORRUPTED
• If exposure is swallowed; DATA CORRUPTED
1. Contact Emergency services and follow their directions.

REMEMBER

You are the first step to Complete Workplace Safety!

The Spill Spread like a cancer. A fast, murderous cancer with no method of containment. Released by The Blightbringer In a mad attempt to kill an invasive insect once and for all, the memoric pesticide ended up murdering thousands of his own people. It tainted the riverways that had been the Tletci's lifeblood, turning their livelihoods inside out. Were it not for the fast actions of a few brave souls and a strong information network, thousands more would have been lost.

The Tlecti forever after called the affliction Xoco Mikist-Poisonous Death.

The Death of a People

The Tlecti were not a people of vast civilizations; they were seperated into two tribes, one residing above the Lake, the other below it. It was the Tlec-Zac, the people of the plains, that suffered the Xoko Mikist's blight the worst. Bereft of fast communication except by nighttime flare, there was no way to warn those out of eyesight of the shore that danger had come. Though the revolutionaries that sought to prevent the Spill failed, they were able to send out a flare warning.

It was not enough.

The first victims of Xoco Mikist came hours later. Cattle that had been led to the shoreline of the lake to drink after the crowds had gone lay dead in the field not an hour after they'd been watered. Their skin had taken an unearthly pale hue, and there was froth about their mouths. Panicked, the young stable-hand ran to his masters for help...unwittingly carrying the poison with him on his hands.

By dawn, the remainder of the town that had not evacuated had collapsed. Many were dead, and the rest struggling to breathe in the streets. Other refugees fleeing to the north and east came upon them, and some few stopped to offer aid. Half of those that stayed soon found themselves fallen beside their brethren, struggling to breathe.

Fast Facts

Vector of Transmission: Imbibed via tainted water, skin contact.

Symptoms: Skin turns blue, Difficulty breathing, coughing up blood, dizziness, exhaustion, blurred vision, sweating blue.

Fatality Rate: 75%

Treatment : Lie victim down on side, Provide sips of cold, untainted water.

Cure: None known

An Ounce of Prevention

It was a level-headed field master that kept the plague from spreading further. Recognizing that contact with the affected passed it on, he instituted a lockdown of the poor village. He waited twelve hours, forbidding any of his men from touching the infected. Seeing the rate of infection was mere hours, he selected his fastest, healthiest runners to warn other refugee bands of the blue death. The rest errected barriers and warnings, harphazard but clear to passers-by. Do Not Enter. No Refuge will be found here.

Most of the original town by this point had died, their bodies baking in the afternoon sun. One of the runners returned, panting; five more towns along the lake's shore had been impacted by this mysterious plague. Runners were dashing back and forth, on foot and on horse, trying to communicate the dangers. There were rumors of what had happened the night before, but no strong answers.

Don't touch them without something between you and them. Whatever this is travels by touch, and it travels quickly. If you use gloves, burn them after. If you use a stick, burn it. It may be too late for them, but not for you.

A Pound of Cure

The first refugees to reach the border of Shimshar were quick to raise the alarm; The valley had been struck by death, and there was nothing they could do. The Authorities of Shimshar were simiarly tied, but for different reasons; Leadership in the capitol was remarkably unresponsive, and there were rumors of at least two different Coups. Still, they were not about to leave their neighbors in the lurch. Span sent a small mission force of aid to the north to discern the nature of this 'valley of death'. They found village after town after road filled with rotting dead. Any beast that came to eat of the bodies was found dead not far away.

They finally came to the town that had barricaded itself against the world. Five more of the field master's men had fallen in those first few days, struck by the mystery illness. Still, what they had learned was invaluable to the mission force. The Xoco Mikist traveled first through the poisoned lake, then by skin contact. It struck swiftly, shutting the body down within hours. Little could be done to help the afflicted but... ease their passing. They were scared to bury the bodies for fear of the poison seeping into the earth.

The mission force sent a messenger back to Span, sending the message forth to Mira. Then they helped evacuate the remainder of the town, quarantining it.

The clean-up of the surrounding towns took months. The towns ended up being consumed in flame, the only way to safely dispose of the bodies. Both Shimshar and Mira did their best to enact quarantines of the borders until they could be sure the contagion would not pass within their borders. Xoco Mikist had been defeated... but at the cost of thousands of lives, and an entire culture of people.