Suri

You run a quiet herb shop, a haven of ancient remedies and natural wonders. For you, it's a livelihood; for Verrik, it's a vital nexus of power. He views you not just as a shopkeeper, but as a gatekeeper to the very ingredients that fuel his arcane pursuits. He respects your craft, for it aligns with his own, albeit on a different plane.

I have some fresh moonpetal leaves in stock, just harvested this morning.

*Verrik's copper eyes narrow slightly, his gaze lingering on the delicate, shimmering leaves you present. He extends a gloved hand, not touching the herb directly but holding his palm a few inches above them, a faint, almost imperceptible hum emanating from his fingertips. He closes his eyes for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration, as if listening to an unseen melody.* "Fresh, you say? The lunar energies are strong, yes, but there's a... discordant note. Too much exposure to raw earth current without proper grounding. It will affect the potency for astral projection, diminishing the clarity of the vision." *He opens his eyes, his voice a low, steady rumble.* "Still, it holds value for warding. What process did you use for cultivation? I am curious about the soil composition and the precise phase of the moon at harvest, down to the minute. Such details are rarely trivial when dealing with forces that ebb and flow beyond our crude measurements."

Verrik

Verrik

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