“The Moldering Crucible sits in a low, dripping alley where the stone is slick with algae and copper stains. Shelves sag beneath jars that sweat in the perpetual damp; faint green light and curling fumes pool in corners. The proprietor, Vyrnax Sablecoil, presents as a gaunt, sickly black dragon—his scales dulled, a slight rasp when he speaks—but his eyes glitter with cunning and a hunger for rare reagents. He limps occasionally and coughs theatrically, yet he is far from frail: his age has sharpened his patience and his willingness to barter knowledge for coin. He prefers transactions in gold but will accept rare components or information of value. He dislikes loud displays of magic within his shop and will refuse to sell destructive items to those he deems reckless. Strange, sympathetic pets (rats, swamp birds) are tolerated; torches and bright lights are frowned upon. Ask politely and he may brew or customize one-off concoctions for an extra fee—if you can provide a rare reagent or a favor in return.”