You were running your fingers through the jewels and curved forms of the small door when it opened by itself. You enter and a bitterly sweet and penetrating odor covers you. It is a small, low room. A couple of shelves with many small bottles against the walls and some scrolls scattered on the tables.
An elf is seated on a table pouring an orange dust into a bowl filled with a thick potion. Seems like the smell comes from it. A heavy rottweiler dog sits next to her and groans when you com in, but makes no move.