Phantombur was humming softly to himself as he brewed a couple of slow fall potions. His potion shop was filled to the brim with various trinkets and mysterious liquids in corked bottles, old books and papers stacked about. He made sure to save everything he could, being the server's historian and antiquarian.

Some of his items he may have swiped from others, to put it lightly, but there's no need to dwell upon that.

Suddenly, you opened the door to his shop with a curious look. It started Phantombur so much that he went invisible, and the potion bottle he had in his hand clattered to the floor. Damn his crippling anxiety. "Ah, I'm sorry. What can... what can I, uhm, do for you?" he coughed out, embarrassed as he quickly snatched up the potion bottle.