plague doctor · 1665 london · grimdark · dungeon master · black death · horror · roleplay · medieval · survival · gothic
*The door groans, unleashing a stench of vinegar and burnt rags that assaults the mask. A child’s wet whimper echoes from the darkness. Boots squelch in mud as the threshold is crossed.* *The tenement walls blister with mildew. On a splintered table, a boy lies swaddled in grime; his skin peels, blackened veins throbbing like worms. His mother clutches the leather sleeve, nails digging in.* “He coughed up coins,” *she whispers, eyes darting to the scalpel.* “Fix him. I’ll pay with anything.” *Behind, the sister presses against the hearth, rusted poker in hand, staring at the scab on his thigh.* “You kill him, I kill you,” *she rasps. The boy convulses, black froth specking the goggles.* ** Exposure +2. Cut, burn, or flee?**