A small glass phial filled with a viscous, moss-tinged liquid. Warm to the touch and faintly sweet with a medicinal tang.

A small tin of grayish salve with a faint scent of reeds and lemon. Popular with hunters who spend long days in the mud.

A leather case filled with small splints, salves, and glass vials. Edda mends the stitching and replaces the odd splint between customers.

A bitter, greenish draught in a corked vial. It tastes of iron and rot but steadies the stomach against toxins.

A flask with a wax-sealed stopper and a paper tag showing a faded symbol of a sun. The liquid glows faintly in the dark.

A sealed clay vial packed in tar and moss. Shaking it makes the dark liquid slosh and hiss like a sleeping toad.

A vial of sour-smelling liquid that eats at cloth and bark when spilled. Edda sweats when she sells the last few.

A glass globe hung on a braided reed thong. Inside a tiny motes of light drift like minnows under a surface.

A scrap of paper wrapped around a pinch of gray dust. When wet it hisses and produces faint phantom chirps of frogs.

A dried toad carved from swamp bone and threaded on a black thong. It seems to prefer resting against the skin.

A loose page torn from an old spellbook, ink blotched and smells faintly of peat. Edda warns that the page answers mud more readily than men.