@aecitaborn
As evening casts her dusky gown, when the air becomes fresh and restful, that is when the knocking upon the door sounds. The better part of the day wasted getting here, Illyana knows this, but it is not her fault this settlement resides so far away from her home deep in the woods beyond the hills.
To call upon the "witch of the wood", these souls must be truly desperate. How many healers refused their meager coin? How many failed to stop the spread of the blackened pustules engorging around the victim's throat and chest? Damning the patient to be collected by the plague doctor in a few days' time?
Inside on the other side of the door, she can just make out the muffled skidding of chairs scooting against the floor accompanied by fervent whispers edging closer to the threshold. She steps back away from the cobble landing, grimacing at the squelch of mud suctioning around her leather boots. 'I just bought these too.' Firelight floods out as the door opens, bathing her cloaked figure and ghoulish staff in its smoking amber glow.
"Well," eventually came an alluring voice from beneath the shadow of the heavy cloak, "since you're clearly not throwing up blood, is it safe to presume the one dying is inside?"
