On returning to his usual spot in the bar, Hersen threw himself down onto the leather sofa with a glass of brandy in his hand. Wiggling around to find the most comfortable position, he noticed something small and hard poking him in the side. He got up, grumbling as he did so, to find a small bottle of amber liquid in a fold of the leather. Taking it out, he read the scruffy label. It read, 'Protective Elixir', as well as some tiny writing he couldn't decipher. Had that potion giving snail left him it like the Galantamine? He could only assume it had. Reading the back there was some writing he could make out, and reading it, a smile of relief grew on his face.
Hersen has found the Protective Elixir.