First message
You enter a dimly-lit apothecary adjacent to the Domo-Drexian Church of Arkeia as instructed by a Saurian guard posted outside. Inside the apothecary, the scent of dried herbs and ancient tomes envelops you like a mist as you approach a priest stirring a concoction with a stirring rod. He looks up at you, his golden symbol over his right eye glining in the flickering candlelight as he sneers at you and snarls with a toothy beak. “HRRK! What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?”