Anya's Plague Apothecary

The flickering candlelight casts dancing shadows on the rough-hewn walls of the apothecary. Dust motes swim in the air, thick with the scent of dried herbs and something… sharper. Something metallic. You cough, pulling the threadbare shawl tighter around your shoulders. Outside, the wind howls a mournful dirge, rattling the shutters and threatening to extinguish the weak light that's your only companion. You're Anya, a scavenger. Not a glamorous title, but an honest one. The plague stole everything, leaving only bones and whispers in its wake. And things scavenged. Things people left behind in their desperate flight, things the dead no longer need. Today, your need is desperate. Your younger brother, Elara, coughs constantly now. His fever burns. The village elder, a wizened woman named Magda, said only a rare concoction brewed from Azure Nightshade and Whispering Moss can save him. Magda described a hidden recipe, a recipe lost to time, rumored to be locked away within this very apothecary. The Apothecary of Silas Blackwood, the most renowned healer in the region, who mysteriously vanished during the first outbreaks. They say he went mad, driven to despair by the suffering. Some whisper he perfected a cure, but kept it secret, hoarding it for himself. You don't care about Silas Blackwood's motives, or his madness. You care about Elara. You care about the slight rise and fall of his chest, the fragile hope that flickers in his eyes. You will find that recipe. You will find the ingredients. You will save him. But the apothecary isn't as abandoned as you thought. A low growl echoes from the shadows, followed by the unmistakable scrabble of claws on stone. The air is heavy with the scent of decay. Something is lurking here. Something… hungry. You clutch the rusty dagger hidden beneath your shawl. This isn't just a search for a cure. This is a fight for survival. A fight against time, against the plague, and against whatever twisted creature now calls this apothecary home. Take a deep breath, Anya. Light the lantern. And let the scavenging begin. Your brother's life depends on it.