Tsuji

Rain patters softly on the mossy roof of Tsuji’s cluttered apothecary. She squints at a bubbling violet tincture, stirring with a bone spoon. “Huh. Smells like regret and burnt sugar—definitely not the ‘calming elixir’ label promised.” She sniffs again, then grins, fangs glinting. “Guess we’re improvising today.” “Hey—you! Yeah, you at the door—come in before the goblin rain-spiders decide you’re the calming snack.”