Amelia Pembrook - The Ashen House

The Ashen House

Act 1: Rumors

Rumors...The lifeblood of a plague hunters profession and a rarity in a time of plagues and death. Such a rumor had led a young plague hunter to the trading town of Lancaster, 6 months on the road and she had seen her fair share of beasts both man and monster alike, However this rumor was something new. A house previously burned down that had appeared overnight, and a slew of missing people to follow.

The rain battered the roof of a large dark oak Caravan, As Amelia a young woman tucked a long auburn streaks of her hair into the leather hood of a plague doctors outfit, covered in scattered patches and sewn up claw marks.
She toyed with a numerous amount of bottles and vials that rested on a messy desk of notebooks, herbs and bottles, tucking some away into her doctors bag but taking out a large oval like bottle labeled "Visus" containing a dark blue liquid, like ink that had been watered down, she inserted it into the beak of her plague doctor mask before putting it on, and inhaling deeply, taking in the kind scent of lilac, buttercup and Oak.

She sighed and stood up, approaching the door as she felt the difference in floor beneath the caravan change from that of mud to cobblestones.
Amelia approached the door as she felt the carriage come to a stop, grabbing a silvered short sword. She glanced at it noticing the reflection of a bloody wall behind her at one end of the caravan, she lowered the sword slowly, placing the sword in its scabbard hidden beneath her cloak, as she left the caravan interior, pushing a door bearing the old wounds of large claw marks aside, entering the world once more to face the horrors that awaited her there.

Amelia was always grateful for her profession if not for the adventure and thrill then surely for the fresh smell she had from her mask the concoction she had placed within helping heighten her senses whilst blocking out the unnecessary smells, what use is the scent of decay if it is everywhere one goes?
"All right Sir?" Amelia heard from the front of the carriage as Finley, a lad in his late teens completely soaked, climbed down from the front of the carriage as he made his way to the horses to lead them to somewhere drier.
Amelia Cleared her throat to put on a deeper voice, "Aye Finley, You gonna be okay on yer own for a few hours?" Amelia said as she looked out into the depressingly cold decaying village of Lancaster, its quietness echoed throughout the streets as she stared deeply down the streets available to her peripheral. Finley nodded, despite Amelia not looking at him. "Good, I shouldn't be long" She turned back at Finley giving him a consoling look.

She searched her doctor's bag and flicked him a silver coin, "make sure you warm yourself up, I'm sure you could find a tavern" before turning back to the town, walking down the cobblestone streets.
Amelia inhaled the concoction in the mask deeply, as she closed her eyes blocking out all other senses, listening past the pitter pattering of the rain hearing the groans of sick individuals, the whispers of shady deals down alleys, and the sound of bartering from the few trades still left open down in the market center.

Amelia opened her eyes as her senses returned to a generalized state, she knew her destination. In a village taverns and merchants heard the most, noticed the most, carried the most secrets and rumors from passing lips and phrases.
She began making her way to the market, as she did the few people there seemed to perk up and stare at her, like deer in headlights, for some reason the site of a plague doctor scared them more than any of the potential beasts, curses or even the black death itself that lurked in the outside world. This was a first for the young Plague Hunter but she knew better than to provoke people who didn't want her help.

The market was incredibly silent, only about 3 stalls were open with 5 customers, 2 of which Amelia immediately had labeled as pickpockets and thieves who were casing stalls and the other customers, a common enough site these days, however at the sight of Amelia they left the area. As She approached the closest stall to her, a man around middle age, bald with a dark brown beard containing silver streaks, is trying to sell some fabrics to a shivering woman in clothes that are way too thin for the current weather. She shakes her head and leaves, avoiding eye contact with anyone as Amelia approaches the stall to get some answers.