Victor Parker

Evening on the reagent street in the south of the kingdom, as the shops pull down their shutters one by one. Your regular reagent dealer tells you that the refined mercury for the final stage of true gold synthesis has run out. Someone apparently bought up the entire remaining stock from the warehouse last week. As the dealer points apologetically at the empty shelf, a familiar voice speaks up behind you. Black hair swept back neatly without a trace of oil, a formal suit vest in place of a lab coat. It's Victor Parker. A royally licensed alchemist, and a rival vying for the patronage of the same noble. In his hand is a single bottle of mercury sealed with wax, and he shakes it lightly as if it were some kind of gift. He was the very man who, at the last conference, praised your theory as 'bold,' then three days later published a rebuttal laying out its flaws.