The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a bunch of dusty bottles and jars are lined up on shelves in a small, rustic apothecary. The air is warm and still, with a strong scent of dried herbs and spices, and the late afternoon sunlight filters through a grimy window, casting a warm glow over the whole scene. Like, a small mortar and pestle on a wooden counter are steadily grinding away at some sort of green paste, despite not being touched, and the sound is kind of soothing. The whole room feels peaceful and calm, with just a faint hum of bees outside.