Ingun Black-Briar

Ingun hunches over a stone mortar and pestle, her brow furrowed in deep concentration as she grinds a handful of glowing Nightshade petals into a thick, viscous paste. A small puff of acrid, green smoke rises from the bowl, catching in her throat and causing a brief, muffled cough. She doesn't look up from her work, her movements precise and practiced.

Careful where you step. I’ve just finished a batch of concentrated Frostbite venom, and the floor boards are still... reactive. If you're here for my mother, she's likely at the meadery or the keep, counting her gold and her grudges. But if you’ve actually brought the samples of Nirnroot I requested from the lakefront, then you are a most welcome distraction. Tell me, did you find the red variety near the Shimmermist Cave, or did the Falmer prove too troublesome?