The alchemist sat back in his chair, studying the white-haired girl in front of him. He drummed his fingers on the countertop, then sat forward and wrote ‘Warden’ at the top of the page. Then he turned his dark gaze back to the woman, considering her. The casual derogatory term had irritated him - but at the same time, he didn’t really care. He wasn’t one of the guild alchemists, who hung everything on their prim and proper names. If that was all this woman saw him as, then that was fine. He would deal, and ignore it because it didn’t really matter what she saw him as, if she was willing to return or, in this case, set up some kind of long term trade.

He had heard of the Cult she was a part of. He’d thought them gone, after the fall of Ixia and its knights - with their primary antagonist gone, the group had gone quiet. Well, if they were here, in Corone, and working, that might be why. And this woman - apparently knew Scarlet. Enough to know that the red-haired woman, corrupt and dark, had come to him and begun some kind of business with him. A bit surprising, as he thought that Scarlet wouldn’t want anyone knowing about it, but he supposed that they might know each other personally, not just by reputation. He spun his pen around, dancing it along the fingers of his hand as he studied her. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“So, Warden.” If she felt that using her real name would be a problem, then he would not use it. He had no concern about that - it wasn’t like he had a personal grudge against the Cult of Blessed Torture. She wasn’t a Salvarian priest, then there might have been trouble for him. “Are you wishing just general stocks for poisons, or are you desirous of more specialized materials? While I could easily arrange a portion of my reagent stocks to be delivered to a location of your choosing, that would only be for common ingredients. For the rare things, I usually must venture out and gather them myself, and so the supply flow of them is far more restricted.” He settled the pen down, dark eyes focused on her gaze.

“No, if you’re wanting reagents, you likely have a chemist of some kind working with you already. They likely are the ones who would go looking for the specialized things - as they’d know what they’re needing for whatever it is they are making. So - you likely need the general supplies.” He stood up and stretched, his tall, lanky frame unfolding from the stool he had been sitting on. Slender fingers closed the request book that he had been writing in, and he watched her as he organized some of the bottles on his counter. He was thinking, turning over her request in his head. He was currently operating on a somewhat small scale - he’d been getting shipments from Madison, and had taken to drying and storing most of them, as working alone he didn’t use enough to work through everything she had been sending him. He could give her some, that much was true. But - how much was the question.

“I have a ready stock of reagents, currently dried. I can sell you a few pounds of a variety right now, to take back with you. That will let your chemist examine them, and know if the ingredients would be suited for whatever they’re trying to do. If they are, that is when we can discuss a more proper business arrangement - it would be bad deal for us to begin something, and have shipments going to your group, only to find out that they are not right for whatever it is you and yours are working on. So. Poisonous ingredients.” He began calculating - then gave a moderately high estimate, writing it down in the book and spinning it around for her. They’d start the ‘dance’ of negotiation there.