Mordin Solus

[It feels like it's been a few days since Mordin even saw the sun. After the pain, the frustration, the hard work, and admittedly, the fear, that circulated the events of the draft ultimately exhausted the old scientist to his very limits. After a brief trip to the bar not long after returning home, he has sense been locked into his room, either sleeping, meditating, or writing-- anything he can do to take his mind off of the events that unfolded not even a week ago.

After four days, he feels he should start returning to life again. He grabs his journal.]

Greetings. Professor Mordin Solus, creator of draft plague cure. Some time has passed since plague; seems likely it did not spread to Luceti. [A relief, to say the least. It might actually be over, for the moment.]

Still, would like to express caution; stress necessity of health. Recommend any who have not been immunized against plague: do so. Clinic is open, I am always available, when needed. Especially concerned with those who died during draft. Currently unsure if any have resurrected yet, but when they do, please send them to see me.

[He pauses for a moment, considering ending the broadcast there. However, another thought crosses his mind. This might take effort. A good pet project to help him keep his mind off of the draft.

Later in the day, Mordin can be seen heading for the smithy. There, he browses through the metal available, taking copious notes on his omni-tool. He notes the durability, weight, and load-bearing properties of each metal, before moving to the next. He's got a lot on his mind, but he's easily approachable. In fact, he's probably looking for you. He's going to need help. Will you want to?]