The walk to the old lumber warehouse didn't took long, just a couple of minutes, but the transformation of the building was already incredibly apparent.
I pushed open the heavy wooden double doors, stepping out of the bright sunlight and into the cool, cavernous interior.
The sharp scent of fresh-cut pine had been completely overpowered by the pungent, earthy aroma of simmering medicinal herbs and crushed roots.
The vast, open floor plan had been completely repurposed for the mass production of the potions.
Long, sturdy wooden tables were lined up in neat rows, covered in newly purchased glass beakers, brass scales, and heavy stone mortars.
About a dozen villagers of various ages, though mostly female, were standing at the stations, carefully measuring out powdered herbs and stirring small cauldrons with deep, intense concentration.
At the very front of the room, standing behind a large demonstration table, was Tessa.
