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Weekly Contest #296
The door slammed open, shattering the apothecary’s peaceful silence. It swung wildly on its hinges, groaning in protest. Nephele straightened from hunching over a table of half prepared herbs she had been busy packing away, her plague doctor mask snapping towards the sudden sound. Two men stumbled in. One was barely standing, deathly pale, with dark blood oozing from a gash in his side. His head sagged, barely conscious as he leaned heavily against his companion, who was trembling with panic and near despair. The first man’s leg hung limp be...
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