Emerging from the storage tent once again, Herbert walks right back over to Ignatius holding both the healing draught he bought from the Caravan months ago and a fancier healing bottle he noticed in the pile.

"Here," he says, holding them out to Ignatius. "Can you hold these to drink them? They're... potions." Even now that he's accepted the scientific nature of magic, he hates the way it feels to speak about alchemy.