Even for an undead, whom one might expect to be scraggy, Lyall looks slightly emaciated. Her purplish hair is unkempt and matted, and natural rot has begun to conquer parts of her face and her body. Her pallid eyes have sunken deep into their sockets, and a dirty yellow light shines from within them. The pungent stench of decay is partly covered by the smell herbs and strange brews she carries, but all in all, Lyall isn't the kind of person whom one would usually like to stand close to. Her voice sounds somewhat tight and a bit creaky. As far as it can be judged, she looks like she was in her thirties before the plague claimed her.