Amelia called from within, "If you're going to complain about the paintjob again Isaera, don't bother. I don't like it anymore than you do." She let that sit for a moment and the elf stand in silence for a few seconds before leaning over and pushing the door open. "Shouldn't you be bedding that barmaid by now?" The alchemist smirked, then turned back to her work. She was leaning over a mortar and pestle, grinding something up into a very fine powder.