Galf L'nael, true to his promise, took Imnif Alvarun into the bowels of the estate, where they entered an alchemist's workshop.
Galvar was bent over the table, working furiously. He glanced up and huffed, "It's you, L'nael, playboy upstart!" He then did a double take when he saw the beautiful Imnif in her masquerade makeup. "Ah, but who's this tart you've brought with you to gawp at the old codger in the cellars!"
Imnif walked over and inspected his work. "If you temper the black iron with sulphur salts you won't keep blunting the edge of your awl. Your scribing compass is imbalanced, you should plane the feet more precisely."
The gnome alchemist looked furious for a moment, then guffawed. "Right you are! If this were my workshop I'd be offended by the quality of this equipment, but it's what's available to me while I'm passing through in the Vale. You must be the Lady of Raven's Reach pretty boy here has been talking about. He says you're after the Materia Prima."