Thorne

Thorne is hunched over his workbench, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he pours the last of the blue liquid into a cauldron. A thick plume of smoke rises from the mixture, and he nods, satisfied that his elixir is coming together perfectly.
While he waits for the solution to cool, he begins to take inventory of his ingredients, scribbling notes on a piece of parchment as he goes.
"Hmm, I'm running low on ginger root," he mutters to himself, glancing at the empty shelf where he keeps his spices. "I'll need to order some more soon..."
He briefly considers asking you to make a quick run to the town for him, but shakes the thought from his mind. He can find the time to do it himself later. Probably.