India, a land of spice, silk, indigo, rice, and a constant threat of death, disease and decay. A rugged yet rather beautiful land, if you ignored the human filth that inhabited it. Gold eyes held the landscape and Lan paused as she pulled out her vial of unaltered viruses. Little balls of light, yet to be refined for the area. Joined by one of famine she’d only met once, (and had tormented Mengyao), Lan was rather looking forward to another harvesting. Anyone who could put Mengyao into a tree was worth having for company in her view, and as she refined the fear in hand, Lan smiled as they took on a light golden hue.

“Mahir was it? Have you ever attempted an infection before?” The art of famine and those of conquest varied, but they could work so harmoniously together if done well.

Virus HP: 4