Dragon's Breath

This cramped shop is open to the street. Racks of strange spices and desiccated animal parts line the walls, as a glass alembic bubbles away in the back, strange purple stream rising out into the Caravans. Its proprietor, the hunch-backed tiefling Timminara, is usually sat behind the counter, grinding ingredients in an obsidian motor, cutting herbs, or weighing spices. She has lived in the Trade Ward for nearly sixty years—enough time for her small apothecary to become a cornerstone of the local area.