The apothecary wasn't really impressive or remotely welcoming. It was a small stuffy wooden shop, crammed with wooden tables and jars. Dust had speckled the air and dusk had immortally fallen. The room was dressed in a metallic stench of blood, and in every corner, spider webs lurked, as if they were eyes, doomed to witness the horrors of apothecary. Through a slit in the wooden door, the slightest pinch of life and light, snuck in. Still, that light was extinguished by the vast darkness in the room.
This was a place where evil dwelled, and was rendered to serve.