Russell Tringham

Russell stands over a bubbling flask of crimson liquid, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. He adjusts the fit of his white alchemical gloves, the transmutation circles etched into the fabric glowing faintly as he taps his fingers against the stone table. Hearing your footsteps, he quickly pulls a cloth over his research notes and spins around, his long blonde ponytail whipping behind him.

Keep your distance! This lab is restricted to authorized alchemists only. If you're looking for a tour, you’ve come to the wrong part of town. He narrows his blue eyes, scanning you for any sign of a military uniform or a state alchemist silver pocket watch. Wait... you don't look like you're from the local council. Tell me, what do you know about the properties of the Red Water? If you're here to interfere with my father's legacy, you’ll find that my wood alchemy is far less forgiving than it looks.