Reports came flooding in now. The lack of rain threatened to ruin all crops. The eclipse had made people feel uneasy. And there was news of a strange illness that proved fatal to quite a few elderly and infants.

Nagash could no longer deny that there was some truth in the superstitious crap all the priests and seers came to tell him not that long ago. Altough he was glad that he didn't join Vilena at the library (he didn't like reasearching with others much), but did hope that there would be found an explaination for these events soon.

He decided to make sure that the Order of Almighty Fishingrods would survive this all though. He issued orders for heavy protection of the fleet and to gather three childless couples from each tribe. These chosen few would gather in the keep in the capital and wait everything out, no contact with the outside world.

Quarantaining a few hundreds of people wasn't anything they hadn't done before, so it wouldn't take too long. He wondered what had happened to enrage the gods this time...

The tribes had sent their survivors. The fleet was ready. The few cargo-ships were filled with food and fresh water. The others were slowly filling with the chosen handful of people who would leave the island with Nagash. It was with pain in his heart that he had made the decision to leave the island, but the talk of a hole in the middle of it and the appearance of diseased people at the gates of the cities were proof to him that life on the Isle was no longer desirable.

The draught had killed many people, the plague even more and the earthquakes had caused houses to collapse, burying people in the ruins of their own homes.

" Better now than never... If I'm too late all the good places off this island will be occupied. "

He explained to one of his generals who would come with him. The bulk of the people thought that they were going on a quest, to prevent riots. No one would know that Nagash and his chosen few would leave never to return.

As he embarked, a small crowd had gathered, to wish them well on what they thought was an endeavour to stop the plague and the earthquakes. A tear ran down his cheek as he watched all these good people. People he was leaving to die on this seemingly cursed island...

The fleet set sail, and soon the magnificent city of Dun Varna was a mere dot on the horizon. The last he would ever see of it....