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[Open]
WHAT: Various starters
WHEN: Throughout March/Drakonis
WHERE: Kirkwall proper and surrounding areas
NOTES: Will update as needed
KIRKWALL
a. The Gallows Living Quarters - Spring Cleaning---
His old room seemed to be unexpectedly intact. It was true that most of the potions and poultices and herbs had either been given to the infirmary or tossed out, and the more expensive tools and knickknacks he'd acquired on his previous adventures in Thedas had been sold. No great loss - the Medicine Seller collected things like a magpie - the room would soon be cluttered with all his nonsense again.
Not that he'd asked about having it back. It had been his before, and he doubted any roommate(s) would appreciate the late nights where he was mixing strange and pungent ingredients. It seemed a good enough reason to him and protocol was not his strong suit anyway.
The only problem was that it looked like it hadn't been dusted in nearly the year he'd been gone. Which was a better state it was in than when he first came here. Silver lining and all that.
The shelves and the low table and desk were vigourously dusted, along with every other corner and crevice of the room. He'd taken a broom and mop to the floor while the thick rugs hung out the windows to have the dust shaken out of them. Cobwebs were swept away and any remaining spiders were gently but firmly sent off into the wide world outside to make their fortune. Within the afternoon, it was spotless, though the same could not be said of the Medicine Seller who looked uncharacteristically dirty and disheveled.
b. The Gallows Library - Bookworm---
The Medicine Seller was not ideal to have in the library. Not because he was particularly noisy or disruptive - on that front he was the perfect guest. The problem was literally everything else. The Medicine Seller's method of research was to pick out every book he found interesting, select one, start reading, come upon something he didn't know or understand, and then get up to go dig up any potential books on the matter, open one up, read until he got to something else he didn't know or understand, rinse and repeat.
Needless to say his workspace was cluttered. And there he was, sprawled out in a comfy armchair, smoking contentedly with the book you need in the absolute mountain of materials he hadn't yet touched.
c. Lowtown Markets - Remedies to Mend---
The Medicine Seller sometimes set up shop here. He had no stall or sign - usually he just picked whatever spot on the side of the road that he could squeeze into and laid out his wares on a cloth. He didn't shout across the market square either - he was quite quiet and demure, simply watching the passersby. That being said, the bottles and jars and boxes and little paper packets were all bright and colourful and strange, that there were a good number who stopped to browse, and even occasionally purchase something.
...Much to the chagrin of the neighboring alchemist who redoubled his efforts in yelling people over to his stall and casting nasty looks to his unwanted neighbor who seemed, for all the world, utterly oblivious.
SUNDERMOUNT
a. Sundermount Base - Sprouting---
Early spring at the foot of the mountain was terribly inviting to someone like the Medicine Seller, and he made regular treks along the deer trails to enjoy the clean air and absence of the city noise. More than just needing to get away from the walls of the city, he also needed to replenish his stock, and many young herbs would be in bloom this time of year. Sighting a bit of greenery from the corner of his eye, his choice to trek out this early in spring was validated.
"Ah... fuki."
No he wasn't swearing. Among the dull grays and browns of the dead or drowsing foliage, there were splotches of vibrant green; butterbur shoots. He uprooted a number of the bulbous shoots, examining each one like it was some precious treasure, before wrapping them in a cloth and stowing them away in the recesses of the medicine pack.
b. South of Sundermount - Hanami (Late Drakonis)---
At this time of year, he'd have made his way north from Okinawa to Hanshu, following the blooming of the trees. He didn't have the luxury of chasing such fancies in Thedas - the anchor in his hand saw to that. Regardless, when he got out the city, he made it a point to take a route where trees were blooming. There weren't many but the Free Marches were far enough north that a few snowy white buds and blooms had popped up in the overgrown orchard of an abandoned farmstead.
It was odd that it had been left so long. The land here seemed good, albeit overgrown. He was no farmer, however. Perhaps something he didn't know had soured the place. Though given that it was wedged between a city of horrors, a mountain of dark tales and half a day's trek to the Bone Pit, it was likely something much more in the Medicine Seller's purview that had kept anyone from reclaiming the property.
But he had time enough to satisfy his curiosity. There was the much more pressing matter that this was the first burst of warmth in weeks, and he hadn't had a smoke all day.
The pipe was produced from the folds of his robe, lit, and the smoke inhaled as he watched the decrepit old farmhouse, his eyes unblinking.
no subject
Her arms cross over her chest and she frowns, intent.
"I am not the kind of person people come to for common ailments."
She scoffs, head tilting, eyes narrowed.
"I am a surgeon. I want anything you have that might interest me on that front."
no subject
He opened the bottom drawer of his medicine pack, revealing more odd bottles and jars and other strangely shaped containers full of who-knows-what.
"I carry several topical anesthetics for minor surgeries," he continued. They were for the sort of emergencies he could handle - he was no medic, but he could stitch wounds and remove the occasional foreign object.
"There are others I can make, though I do not keep on hand. They have addictive qualities. There are also several disinfectants - gels and poultices for surface application."
As he spoke, he laid out each new bottle for inspection, one more colourful than the next. They were labeled and their ingredients listed. The Medicine Seller was a much more competent chemist than his eccentric appearance suggested, but when one was pushing their first millennium, one tended to get rather good at the profession they used as a front.
"Is that what you might be looking for?"
no subject
Sidony isn't quite turning her nose up at him or the idea of being common, but the essence of it is there; she is a noble lady, and even if her job might be a little more pedestrian than her mother might like she does not have common blood. She is Lady Sidony Venaras of Nevarra City, not some street urchin.
All the same, she steps forward to look at the things he is selling, obviously curious about the nature of what he gives.
"I do not want anything that my patients might get addicted to. Most of the people I treat are soldiers, not the kind that would benefit from imagining they need some kind of herb to keep them stable."
She does reach out to begin to look through the bottles, though, tilting them one way and another as she looks at the ingredients, the insides, the colours. It's obvious that he has her attention, almost completely.
"Yes. I'd like to have the anaesthetics."
no subject
"You are with the Inquisition as well then?" He asked instead, picking out the anesthetics.
Several sheaves of paper were produced from one of the top drawers, along with a handsome ink and brush set.
"I provide a discount to the physicians and healers," he explained, wetting the inkstone and then rubbing a stick of ink on it until the liquid darkened into a pitch black. On the paper he began to scrawl the dosages for height, weight, and age, common allergens and alternatives, etc.
no subject
"I am. I work with Base Operations and am a surgeon with the Infirmary. That is where I work."
Leaning forward, she peers at what he is writing, careful.
"That is kind of you," she admits, sounding genuine about it. She keeps watching the paper, seeing what she can note and pick up from it.
no subject
"A prestigious position," he said, tilting his head up with the slightest curve to his lips (or was it the purple marking over the top that left him with the appearance of a permanent smirk).
"Should an issue arise with any of these, please let me know immediately."
He set aside the brush and ink stone, and selected an empty box from his pack. It was oblong, made of wood with brightly patterned fabric pulled over it. The interior was segmented, and each bottle was placed in its own compartment, then the dosage instructions folded neatly and laid on top. He closed the lid, and set it down before Sidony.
"Would you prefer to pay now, or shall I create a tab for you?"
no subject
"It is something I have earned, yes." Easy enough to admit - but at the same time it is difficult not to be a surgeon when you are one of the few offering your services to the Inquisition. Her head tilts, gaze flicking from the box to the lift of his face before she breathes out and reaches to take it.
"I will, thank you. I can pay now, if it's all the same to you." And from deep within the folds of her skirts and silks she draws a little money purse, a smile curving on her face.
no subject
He paused, staring absently up at a passing cloud. It rather resembled a frog.
"...Though I would need to translate them. This comes to eighteen silver."
no subject
It's clear from the way that her eyes widen that she's very interested in his books, but she hesitates. Instead, she counts out the money and passes it over without hesitation or an attempt to bargain - a woman raised with enough funds to buy what she needs without barter.
"I would be interested, once they are translated. Here."
no subject
"I shall bring the texts to the infirmary if that is agreeable. Unless you have an office you prefer?"
He stowed the silver in a little box, and selected a small sack he'd sewn from light green fabric. Sidony's box of medicine was tucked neatly into it and he handed it off to her.
no subject
Nodding her head, she offers something akin to a gentle smile, taking her purchase and holding it carefully.
"The infirmary will suit, thank you. I have a desk there, if I am not present when you come."
no subject
Straightening, he began to pack away the excess bits and bobs, stowing them in their respective drawers and compartments.
"I hope you find the medicine agreeable."