Burbaloo, watched closely by the gang, withdraws several glass items from her otherwise inconspicuous backpack. She establishes them with arcane specificity; this one dripping into that, while another speeds liquid through a coil into a third, and so on. Cang and Abia observe the intricate technicalities, while Shyan keeps a sharp eye on the alchemist, lest she make a play for safety.
Fassn slumps at the base of Mr. Jashenzizok, touching at his own teeth with his filthy hands. “Mr. Mushroom,” he says aloud. “Know anything about these?” With great effort, he manages to make his degraded wings flutter.
Mr. Jashenzizok, observing the alchemical assembly, says nothing.