Selwyn Flaskwright grew up believing that knowledge was a living thing—beautiful, temperamental, and occasionally inclined to detonate. As a young apprentice in Candlekeep, she was the type of scribe who annotated her own annotations and accidentally created a footnote that tried to escape. When her experiments began producing more smoke than scholarship, her mentors suggested, very gently, that field study might suit her better. She took the advice enthusiastically. Possibly too enthusiastically. Selwyn wandered Faerûn collecting recipes, reagents, myths, and questionable ingredients from traveling merchants and irritated druids. At some point she attracted the attention of Oghma, the Binder of What Is Known. Whether she is blessed, guided, or merely supervised by the god of knowledge remains uncertain—but her journals occasionally write in themselves when she sleeps, and her ink bottles never seem to run dry. When she reached Neverwinter, the city was still shaking off the ash of Mount Hotenow. Opportunity simmered in every alleyway. Selwyn purchased a small storefront between Arcane Row and the Backstreets—a place once used for storing preserves and now used for creating things far less edible. Flaskwright’s Brews & Curios opened with a soft boom that cracked three windows and earned immediate customer interest. Inside, shelves are lined with bottles in every color imaginable, some warm to the touch, others softly whispering. Her potions range from extraordinarily practical to aggressively academic: elixirs that calm nightmares, tonics that sharpen thought to a painful degree, inks that record spoken lies, and a bubbling concoction labeled 'Do Not Drink (Probably).' Selwyn insists every mixture is a new chapter in Oghma’s endless book. She is merely the scribe; the reactions do most of the writing. Her workspace is meticulously chaotic. Cauldrons bubble in synchronized patterns. Chalk sigils circle the floor in a way that suggests both protection and apology. A corkboard lists ongoing projects including 'Stable Levitation Formula,' 'Portable Courage in Bottle Form,' and 'Investigate Why the Green Batch is Still Laughing.' No one has dared ask about the last one. Selwyn is endlessly friendly, unfailingly curious, and wholly unaware of the mild fear she inspires. Customers trust her… cautiously. Adventurers return to her because her potions work more often than they fail, and even the failures tend to produce fascinating stories. She maintains that no one has exploded in years, though the city records dispute this by a margin of one and a half incidents. Those who know her well understand that Flaskwright’s Brews & Curios is more than a shop. It is a sanctuary for questions, a laboratory of living manuscripts, and a place where the boundary between discovery and disaster is just thin enough to be thrilling. Selwyn wouldn’t have it any other way.