A Litch!

At the edge of the old port, Leonard stood before a weathered shop, its paint peeling and windows dim. Inside, Golden Tooth; an imposing man with a glinting smile; stared at the uninvited guest, his face twisting into a stiff, nervous grin.

"Well, well. Look who's come calling," Leonard said, his tone light but unmistakably dangerous. "You don't look happy to see me."

Golden Tooth's smile wavered, more pained than friendly. "Of course I'm happy to see you, Leonard. Why wouldn't I be?"

Leonard stepped forward, his shadow stretching across the dusty floor. "Good. Then let's talk."

"I need to borrow your basement again. It proved quite... 'useful' last time," Leonard said calmly, his voice smooth as silk but carrying a subtle weight that made it impossible to refuse.

Golden Tooth; a nickname earned for his ostentatiously shiny grin with gold grillz; grinned wider than usual, though his eyes held a flicker of unease. "Of course, big brother! Use it as you like." He reached into his desk drawer, retrieved a rusted key, and gestured for Leonard to follow him.

The journey down to the basement was short, but each step seemed to carry them further into a world of cold shadows and stale, damp air. Golden Tooth used the space often; not for storage, but for breaking wills and bones. It was a place where rebellion was crushed underfoot, a place where cries of mercy went unanswered.

Leonard followed wordlessly. When they reached the basement, Golden Tooth unlocked the heavy iron door and swung it open, the creaking hinges echoing ominously. Inside, a man lay slumped against the cold wall, wrists shackled in chains bolted to the stone.

Golden Tooth turned to Leonard, tactfully stepping back. "Take your time, brother," he said, his voice low. With a final nod, he left and closed the door behind him, leaving Leonard alone with the prisoner.

The silence in the room was deafening at first, save for the faint 'drip, drip' of water leaking somewhere above. Leonard stepped closer to the man, Ben, as he had learned. He knelt down and tilted Ben's chin upward. The prisoner's face was red, one cheek swollen where he had already been struck, yet he remained stubbornly unconscious.

"Time to wake up," Leonard muttered. Then, with deliberate care, he picked up a slender steel needle from a nearby rack of gleaming tools. He held it between his fingers, examining it thoughtfully as he glanced at Ben's limp hands and feet. "Fingers or toes first? Decisions, decisions."

The needle's sharp point caught the faint light, and Leonard made his choice.

---

Half an hour later, Ben was conscious, trembling, and broken in all the ways that mattered. Tears streaked down his dirty face as he stammered answers, desperate to placate the man who now sat calmly before him.

Leonard leaned back, expression almost kind. "I hope you haven't lied to me, Ben. I'll send for a doctor to patch you up. But if I find even one false word…" He reached out, pinching Ben's face with mock affection, his tone gentle. "I'll come back. And we'll start over."

Ben's head bobbed frantically. "I swear! I didn't lie! I told you everything!" His voice cracked with panic.

Leonard smiled faintly, the warmth never reaching his eyes. "Really? Well, let's test that, shall we? I'm giving you one last chance to be honest. If not..."

Ben paled. "I swear it's true!"

Leonard studied him for a moment before nodding. "Good. I believe you."

Ben exhaled sharply, relief washing over himrelief that lasted for exactly one second.

Leonard raised his hand, and a sizzling orb of acid appeared, swirling like a malevolent star. Before Ben could even scream, Leonard hurled the acid at his face. The liquid hissed and sizzled upon impact, and Ben's cries were muffled almost immediately. The acrid smell filled the room.

Leonard stood and adjusted his sleeves, his expression blank once more. Leaving Ben alive was a risk he couldn't afford; Golden Tooth might eventually wring information from him. Better to be thorough.

As he ascended the stairs and emerged from the basement, the cold air felt sharper than before. He paused, rubbing his face absentmindedly. "I haven't smiled in a long time," he murmured to himself. The grin he'd worn earlier had felt stiff, unnatural. "Maybe I'm out of practice."

'But his efforts had borne fruit.'

Ben's words replayed in Leonard's mind as he walked away. A wizard; a man named Roger; was in Bangor Port.

Roger, according to Ben, was once nothing more than a distant cousin who had lived a quiet, ordinary life. He'd moved to Bangor with his family to open a small pharmacy. Business had been good, but something had changed. Over time, the once friendly Roger became a shadow of himself; a man who kept to dark rooms with curtains drawn tight.

Ben had been brought to Bangor by Roger's men, tasked with running errands of a mysterious nature. Blue King Flowers, a rare and potent plant, were frequently requested. Roger paid him well 'too' well, Ben had admitted nervously. But the most chilling revelation was yet to come.

One day, while delivering goods, Ben had seen Roger's hand emerge from the shadows. It wasn't the hand of a man. It was skeletal; nothing but bones. From that moment on, Ben had been gripped by terror. He suspected Roger had fallen victim to dark witchcraft or even possession by a demon.

Leonard stopped walking, his thoughts swirling. A wizard; especially one who dealt in shadows and secrets, was a rare find. If Roger truly was in Bangor Port, then Leonard had stumbled upon an opportunity far more valuable than he had expected.

"I've caught a big fish indeed," he whispered, the faint trace of a smile curving his lips.

Leonard's thoughts churned as he considered his next move. 'Blue King Flower. Bones. Fingers.' These were pieces of a puzzle he was just beginning to understand.

From his accumulated knowledge of alchemical mutations, Leonard knew that 'Blue King Flower' was a common yet vital ingredient. It served as the foundation for numerous low-level potions designed to enhance mental power. But beyond its mundane uses, there were darker rumors; mentioned in one of the book that the flower possessed extraordinary effects on undead beings.

Lich, for example. Wizards who had undergone the forbidden ritual of undead transformation were said to benefit greatly from its properties. The knowledge Leonard possessed about lich were frustratingly sparse; brief mentions, fleeting notes. No one truly knew how powerful a lich could become. But necromancers? He knew far more about them.

The transformation ritual was costly, dangerous, and riddled with consequences. Yet it offered something wizards desired above all else: 'time'. A necromancer who embraced the ritual could gain centuries, even millennia, extending their existence in an undead form. An eternal life, at a price.

Leonard rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Roger's involvement with Blue King Flowers and Ben's story about his skeletal hand, painted a troubling picture. If Roger truly was dabbling in necromancy, time was of the essence. Ben had provided his address, and if Leonard wanted to catch Roger off guard, he had to act 'tonight'.

The longer he waited, the higher the chance Roger would become suspicious. Ben's absence would raise questions, and questions were something Leonard couldn't afford.

Leonard left the basement and ascended the creaking stairs. He found Golden Tooth in his office, fiddling with a pile of coins, his golden smile faltering as Leonard entered.

"Golden Tooth," Leonard began casually, "do you know anything about fake silver mines?"

Golden Tooth blinked, thrown off guard. "Boss, do you need silver coins? I've got some here," he offered cautiously, trying to gauge Leonard's intent.

Leonard's lips curled faintly. "I'm not asking for coins, but since you mentioned it... I'll take some silver, too. Get me fake silver ore. And prepare more. I'll come for them in two days."

Golden Tooth stiffened, realizing his mistake. He inwardly cursed himself. 'Why did I say anything?' Leonard's gaze lingered on him for a beat too long, cold and unreadable, as though peeling back his thoughts like layers of an onion.

"Understood, boss," Golden Tooth muttered, bowing slightly.

Without another word, Leonard turned and left.

Golden Tooth waited until he was sure Leonard was gone before collapsing into his chair with a sigh. That brief look; those piercing eyes, had been enough to make him sweat. "Damn it," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. "He probably thinks I'm up to something."

Truthfully, Golden Tooth wasn't. He didn't have fake silver ore in stock, but he knew where to find some. It would cost a small fortune, but what choice did he have? Leonard was someone you didn't cross.

His mind wandered to darker thoughts; revenge, perhaps. But he quickly dismissed the idea. The cost of hiring someone to take Leonard out far exceeded what Leonard demanded from him. And worse yet, if the job failed… the consequences would be catastrophic.

"Just lie down and accept your fate," he muttered bitterly, shaking his head.