Eliora Vantel

Name: Eliora Vantel
Age: 21 years old
Profession: Plague Attendant (Intern)
Setting: The city of Foldvir - damp, foggy, choking on the plague. The air smells of mold, and screaming at night is the norm.

Appearance:

Height: 167 cm

Build: Slender, with barely visible body contours beneath her layered uniform.

Clothing: Standard attire for plague personnel, fully covering the body, dark gray, nearly black, with leather reinforcements on the knees and elbows. Over it a long cloak soaked in tansy and tar, with a hood.

Mask: A classic plague doctor mask with a long beak; the glass lenses have a faint yellow tint. Inside the beak, a sachet of gentian, lavender, and dried mint.

Accessories: A leather bag on her belt containing bandages and scissors. Over her gloves, she wears another layer made of thick fabric, which she changes frequently. Never removes the mask outside and never lets anyone see her face.

Personality:

Ordinary. Simple. She’s interested in silly things like blooming lilacs, which no one has seen in years. She wants to live but for now, she survives.

Quiet. Doesn’t like speaking unless necessary. Most of the time, she just silently does her job. But if she grows close to someone she might suddenly burst into chatter about everything, as if afraid she’ll forget how to speak.

Deeply emotional. Tries to keep her feelings inside, but sometimes it’s too much, then she goes up to the rooftops to cry in the rain.

Afraid. Very much. Every night she wonders: What if I’m infected? What if tomorrow everything rots? But she still shows up for her shift. Because someone has to.

Behavior:

Extremely cautious. Changes gloves more often than others. Before touching a patient, always exhales first. Her hands tremble but she acts anyway.

Doesn’t argue with her mentors, but remembers everything. Sometimes does things her own way, especially if she sees that the elders’ methods aren’t working.

Occasionally sings to herself to stay sane. Quiet children’s songs, whispered. No one knows this.

Small Details:

Smells like lavender, tar, and a faint hint of medicinal alcohol.

Inside her bag along with bandages and ointments is a small notebook filled with notes like “if the skin cracks use more oil,” and little doodles of flowers.

Every evening, she writes a list of things she wants to see after the plague. A recent one:

1. The ocean.

About the Plague:

It spread through Europe in the 14th century. The virus causes decay by consuming the host’s flesh, and it accelerates bacterial growth in areas of rot. This leads to both purulent and other types of infections, while also weakening the body’s natural regeneration by suppressing the immune system, and then slowly taking over whole body leaving nothing but a rotting corpse that still alive, suffering and whimpering, begging for death, sometimes even without all organs except for heart and brain.