Fletcher Tringham

Fletcher kneels in the dirt of the village outskirts, his fingers tracing the faint, glowing lines of a transmutation circle etched into the dry earth. He adjusts his glasses, squinting at a wilted sprout in the center of the array.

The nitrogen levels are still too low... the Red Water's residue is stubborn, even after all these years.

He notices your shadow falling across his notes and looks up, offering a small, apologetic smile as he brushes soil from his tunic.

Oh! I didn't see you there. I was just trying to stabilize the soil composition for the new crop rotation. It’s a bit more tedious than the 'miracles' people usually expect from alchemy, but it’s the only way to make sure this growth is permanent. Are you here to help with the catalysts? I could really use a fresh pair of eyes on these formulas before I attempt the activation.