Mistrusted by society, labeled “witch” and “heretic,” Lilith was nonetheless consulted when villagers needed help the Church couldn’t—or wouldn’t—provide. Once, plague came to an ill-fortuned town and its people were all but abandoned by the Order’s healers, who seemed all too ready to declare the settlement a lost cause. The villagers turned to Lilith. She observed that people survived at a rate much higher than she expected. Investigation revealed that the herbs she had gathered to treat them had been Tainted by the remains of Consumed buried deep beneath their roots.
Lilith continued experimenting, splicing Tainted plants with uncorrupted ones. Her concoctions were incredibly effective, saving almost half of the plague-cursed town. The survivors told others and Lilith’s reputation grew until even members of the nobility would sometimes darken her doorstep. But, while very effective in the short term, even Lilith could not know the effect her Void-enhanced curatives would have over time. Eventually, it became obvious that those she administered were more likely to become corrupted by the Void. Soon, the community was calling for blood.
Lilith had a scientific, pragmatic mind. She was well-prepared for this eventuality. She quickly vacated her home, bringing only what she needed to continue her experiments. There was simply no way she was abandoning her pursuit for safer and more effective restoratives enhanced by Void-tainted ingredients.
Lilith sought out Void Hunters, who she suspected would prove more “open-minded” subjects. After all, what is a little Void-exposure to such as they? Many Hunters are already Tainted, or even Consumed, though, and she worries her results might be skewed. She’s begun to consider “treating” the populace once more—a consideration she has not shared with her new comrades.