[Open] the one who survives by making the lives of others worthwhile
WHO: The Medicine Seller and Open!
WHAT: The Medicine Seller wants to get his bearings. Or sell medicine. Since he’s a medicine seller.
WHEN: Feb 2017/Guardian, 9:43 Dragon
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Open starters below - message me on this journal or at
GreenRivers if you want a private starter.
WHAT: The Medicine Seller wants to get his bearings. Or sell medicine. Since he’s a medicine seller.
WHEN: Feb 2017/Guardian, 9:43 Dragon
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Open starters below - message me on this journal or at
A. Got A Remedy For That
The thing the Medicine Seller noticed about people was that they generally saw what they wanted to see so long as it fit their personal narrative of the world. Despite his numerous tells, he'd passed easily as human in his own world. He was the right general shape, and what words couldn’t explain away, a pretty face could certainly distract from.
Here, it was even easier to go unnoticed. Most had but a passing familiarity with the Dalish and their lore, so when they saw his pointy ears and facial markings, and assumed he was just some elf who'd nicked an Orlesian noble's bathrobe and was going for A Look, it made things quite convenient. And he wasn't one to deny people their assumptions when they benefited him.
Dalish may have had a stigma, but between that or being considered the very thing he existed to fight, the former misconception was infinitely less trying.
He didn’t have a stall set up, so much as a few planks of wood balanced together to make a crude, make-shift table. Which he had then covered with a cloth. There were bottles, flasks, vials, powder packets, small, colourful silk pouches and ornate lacquered boxes, bright and vibrant against the gray winter backdrop of the fortress. He’d set a few other planks down to sit on, sparing his knees the cold, winter mud.
He was out of the way of the main hubbub of the merchant stalls and there were no signs or boards with a list of prices, but the vibrancy of his attire and stock made him and his wares impossible to miss. If one was in need of a remedy, they could do far worse.
B. The Price of Knowledge
Being a stranger in a strange land was new to the Medicine Seller, but once the novelty of it wore off, it really wasn’t so different from home. People were people wherever you went - however different their appearances, customs, and cultures, they were still driven by the same emotions.
Still, customs were important, and moreover, he hated not knowing things. Especially things that could make him seem ignorant. It didn’t do to be ignorant if you could help it.
The library had proven beneficial. At the very least he had become acquainted with the Chantry’s version of Thedosian history. He doubted it was in any way accurate or removed from bias (which the historian Genitivi had at least admitted to in his writings), but it was still useful. The more he read, the more he understood the attitudes and inclinations of this society.
The books on medicine were also quite informative - elfroot seemed to go in just about every cure for any ailment which certainly made his job easy. Deep mushrooms also seemed to be a fairly common component.
He was not particularly neat with his research - books were scattered about his work space, some half open, others in haphazard stacks. His notes on Thedas’s medicinal herbs were just as erratically spaced, though his calligraphy and brushwork copying the illustrations was meticulous and quite skillful, if completely illegible to almost anyone in Skyhold.
Still, history and medical books could become a bit tiresome after a while, even for someone with the Medicine Seller’s boundless patience. He deemed a break necessary and went in search of some fiction, leaving his mess for now.
Hard in Hightown 3: The Re-Punchening sounded like some particularly delightful literary schlock. He returned to his spot, lit the tobacco in the bowl of his kiseru, and sat back, prepared to be thoroughly entertained.
C. Curiosity Killed The Cat
Skyhold was a curiosity in and of itself, and the Medicine Seller could hardly refrain from exploring the grounds. It wasn’t often one got the opportunity to poke around a fortress, and while there was work ahead of him here, he was rather nosy.
The ramparts offered quite a view of the chilly Frostbacks. The great hall was aptly named, altogether rather grand with its high ceilings and the imposing throne. The stables held a wide variety of peculiar animals. The gardens had all manner of botanical goodies. The place was absolutely huge and, if rumour was to be believed, quite a windfall for the Inquisition in its budding stages.
Such things were very interesting to the Medicine Seller. He’d move on once he was able to play by this world’s rules and pass through society without too much in ways of questions, but this was certainly ideal for the time being.
D. Wildcard!
Is the Medicine Man eavesdropping on your business? Did you spot him petting a good cat or talking to his weird sword? Did he sell you some faulty medicine? Anything goes!
no subject
That takes a moment though, she hates that something passed her by. (She can blame Cousland though. Another thing to add to the long list.)
"Do such things exist where you are from? They are sylvans here, unpleasant to fight if you are caught amongst the branches, spirits or demons - rage demons mostly - that possess trees and twist them." Magic, dragons, demons existing at all, she has asked after those things but trees do not have spirits of their own here, it is something new to consider.
no subject
"How unfortunate. Perhaps another opportunity will arise."
If it did, he'd certainly be interested in taking a look. The woods seemed to contain much more than angry trees.
"They are called Kodama in my homeland. Though on the island of Okinawa, they are known as Kiinushi."
The faint smirk had vanished as quickly as it appeared, his features mask-like as ever. He'd spent a great deal of time traveling through wild lands - forests, mountains, wetlands - when trees were enraged, something was very wrong.
"They do not possess the tree, however. So it is, perhaps, not the same."
No less concerning, though.
no subject
"Many old things are returning whether the world wishes to see it or not, a great many of us have been retracing the steps of our younger years." Morrigan too has found her attentions wandering in the direction of the Wilds for the first time in so long, thinking to return, to go looking, to actually follow up on any of the tales for the first time since she departed.
"Are they spirits of nature or wood themselves?" Her eyes light up at hearing something so very new that no one else here might have heard at all, another thing that might overlap in some way with Thedas. Rather hard to forget, after all, the lady of the wood.
no subject
Corypheus was, after all, what much of the Inquisition was abuzz with. But all the Medicine Seller could really find about him were disjointed rumours and old legends. He wondered just where Morrigan might be retracing old steps and if it had anything to do with monstrous magisters or something else.
"Sometimes the latter. Sometimes both. We have nothing like the Veil, so a spirit may be quite... complicated."