In a small village on the road to a big town... (open to all)
Steve sat at the front counter as he did almost every day come rain or shine, tending to the apocathary's small merchant's window. Sitting at the front of the house he'd lived and worked in since his mother passed away, the window shutter was propped up to announce availability for orders and the present the painted symbol marking the nature of their goods. It gave him a good view of what passed for the village's 'town center'; really just where the main road widened a bit and marked from the few surrounding huts by the general store, apocathary, and a tavern that did fairly well being the only stop before a half day's ride to the larger town down the road and three days from the nearest port. Steve had never been to either.
Surrounding the slender, straw-haired young man were a few shelves of pre-made potions and a few empty flasks, dried herbs of various sorts hanging where Steve could almost reach without straining, unless he caved and used the step stool his master and teacher was always scolding at him for ignoring.
In front of him as he waited for customer or client, the villager sat carefully penning a parchment with pictures of flowers and symbols. Though carefully referring to reference materials placed just a bit further ahead of him, his ears and eyes were always open in chance a traveler passed through or a villager came by to pick up their order.