Template:Story Potion Master

Eye of newt? Pah! Newts weren’t even that common around here. People always saw witches as women with pointy hats riding broomsticks, stirring the most outlandish of ingredients into their fabled cauldrons. But those were all fairytales. A true witch could make miracles out of anything.

From a young age, the bartender of the local pub had a penchant for mixing things. Whether it be milk and berries to make a smoothie, or cyanide and bait to make rat poison, she could make just about anything. As she progressed in age, more and more people came to try her concoctions. Even in her small town riddled with crime, she found solace in mixing the best beverages he could for her clients. But it wasn’t enough.

She was bored. People knew her, yes, and she was well-paid, but… it didn’t satisfy her. She knew she could do better than this. Eventually, she decided to mix more… interesting things. One such mixture was a salve, a special lotion that could heal almost any wound. It proved its merit when a maniac had stabbed the local doctor. Lathering it on the wounds, she watched as his frail body restored its cells and gave him breath.

Another was a truth serum of sorts – it flooded the consumer with the urge to spill their secrets. Whether it be an embarrassing moment or a heinous crime, they simply couldn’t resist telling the bartender exactly who they were. Although… “bartender” wasn’t enough to describe this girl anymore. She was much, much more now.

The last of her “special” drinks was even more special than the others. Instead of making her targets talk, she could silence them forever. That boy who’d bullied her as a child? They found him dead in his bed, an empty vial in his hand. The teacher she hated all her life? Slumped over his desk, a strange green fluid staining his shirt.

She wasn’t bored anymore