Raistlin Majere of the Red Robes (hourglass_mage) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-02-06 16:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, maxwell trevelyan (the inquisitor), raistlin majere |
Who: Raistlin Majere and Maxwell Trevelyan
What: Raist and Max talk about herbs and things
When: Today
Where: Occult shop
Rating/Warnings Low and None
Status: Complete!
Part of this particular occult shop, part tea-tarot-and-voodoo, seemed to be a minefield for the clumsy type. So many delicate and expensive bottles, hand-crafted glass bowls, antique candelabras - they were left on low shelves where they could easily be knocked over; a sign even hung in the window, stating, ‘nice to look, nice to hold, but if you break it, consider it sold.’ Smart, Max thought. A fun little rhyme.
He was here to sell his fresh Thedosian herbs, as he always did - of course, the shop owner didn’t know they were from Thedas specifically. Didn’t know that deep mushroom was toxic if too much was consumed, but could be used to regain stamina. Or that witherstalk prevented conception, and prophet’s laurel was used to detoxify. He didn’t name them, he just labeled their uses and noted their instructions - they were herbs for the adventurous sort, people who came in and believed they had an affinity and a touch for magic of their own. Trevelyan just said to each their own.
It was a pleasant shop though, kind of both museum and actual store - anyone could find the more kitschy souvenirs up front but there was a ‘spiritual advisor’ in the back, who performed readings just by feeling pressure points. How legit it was, he didn’t know, but that sort of thing wasn’t really in his bag of tricks.
The potions shelf was where he set up his wares, the owner just letting him do it - they already knew each other, and had developed a good rapport. Max felt comfortable here, the place reminded him of his aunt Lucille’s shop in Pike Place. Maybe that was why.
The one thing about the magic Raistlin was most skilled at was that while some spells needed only calculations and words uttered in the language of magic to get desired results, there were other more complicated spells that required more than just memorized words and a few calculations. They needed certain components in order to get any result at all, desired or otherwise. Some spell components were easy enough for someone to get their hands on. Others, not so much. Others you had to either find out in the wild, which was what Raistlin of Krynn mostly had to do considering magic was distrusted, even outright banned in some areas. Thank the gods that Raistlin of Orange County had the option of going into specialty stores in order to get most of those elusive components that he needed.
He’d been into a number of these specialty occult stores since arriving in Orange County, even before he’d discovered that his magic had somehow carried over from Krynn. Raistlin had always been fascinated by the obscure, the strange and the macabre. It had been his second biggest fascination, behind chemistry. Nowadays, it was starting to rival even that. Magic in particular was all consuming in Raistlin’s life.
He had been in this particular shop a few times before. Not often, but occasionally. Raistlin’s hands were in his pockets as he made his way through the front of the store. He was not the clumsy sort, which often surprised others. His hands and long fingers were full of dexterity needed to perform those sleight-of-hand tricks that seemed to mystify others. However, he had found it to be proper etiquette that unless he truly intended on purchasing an item, to keep his hands to himself.
He wasn’t window shopping today, anyway. He needed to replenish a few of his supplies and therefore went straight to the rear of the store. Cursed eyes did, however, pass over the unfamiliar herbs laid out on a shelf. Unlike the other items in this section of the store, these herbs were not labeled with names, but with what they were used for. Intrigued, Raistlin stepped over to get a closer look.
“Elfroot,” Max spoke up, when he noticed someone out of the corner of his eye. For some reason, the guy seemed familiar - so discussing what these herbs were, where they came from, wasn’t too out of left field. Had they met before? Hmm. “It grows like a weed, can be cultivated anywhere, and it’s used for practically anything. Healing wounds, indigestion, it’s also an antivenom.”
He smiled sheepishly, the slightly thrum of otherworldly energy, a magic all unto its own, buzzing from the prosthetic infused with lyrium when he placed the next canister down onto the shelf. “This one’s embrium. It’s used for ailments that affect the lungs. But I could go on and on, really. Were you looking for something in particular?” Not like he ran the store, but since he knew this area, why not help out.
Raistlin’s attention moved from the herbs to the man. Glamoured blue eyes narrowed slightly as he looked him over. There was something different about him. Something other than that prosthetic under his sleeve. Raistlin had seen a few magically infused body parts since acquiring these eyes, and while it also intrigued him, that wasn’t entirely what made Raistlin take notice of him. There was something familiar about him, but not familiar enough that Raistlin could readily put his finger on it. Something in the air around him that he’d breathed in before...but where?
Cursed eyes moved from the arm back towards the herbs, then to the man again. “Are you selling these?” He asked, low voice gravelly with a hint of wheeze. “Do you work here?”
Sounded like this guy could use a bit of the embrium himself. Max caught the hitch of difficult breath, that telltale whistling in the lungs - it didn’t really sound like anything good though. But he wasn’t about to go prying, at least not so outwardly. “Sort of,” he responded. “I grew these in my garden - “ Skyhold’s garden, technically, which flourished up on the mountain and was so lush and green - in the right season, that is. He couldn’t wait for spring, but as soon as he discovered the existence of the keep, right about the time the hole in the sky conveniently opened, he’d been cultivating Thedosian herbs for a rainy day, for the wintertime. Some grew in the winter decently enough though, elfroot especially.
“So I bring them to various occult shops around here for the owner to sell, and turn a little profit,” he explained. “They’re...not exactly of this world. But I’m usually not too forthcoming about that.”
Raistlin arched a brow. What a strange thing to confess to a complete stranger. Blue eyes narrowed slightly. Or maybe, it wasn’t so strange. Those icy eyes flickered towards the prosthetic again. Orange County was rife with those who could wield magic and Raistlin had far from met them all. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities that he would meet one, especially in an occult shop. In fact, that seemed the best place to meet a fellow magic user.
“How very entrepreneurial of you.” Raistlin turned his attention back to the herbs. The shopping list tucked into the breast pocket of his thick coat could wait a little bit longer. He was quite interested in these alien herbs. He read each of the little blurbs, making note of a few things he could definately use, and a few things he thought would be interesting to experiment with. He looked sidelong towards the man who claimed to have grown them. “Why tell me they are not of this world?” He asked. “Especially if you rather keep that a secret?”
“It’s really a huge secret - I don’t work for the CIA or anything,” Max’s mouth turned up in a good-natured sort of grin. “It’s just that people on the more skeptical side tend to write you off right away, and write off the effectiveness of the herbs, when you say things like blood lotus or elfroot. But you seemed like you could appreciate it.”
His potions work, that was all important to him. Tending to the garden especially so - he remembered being let outside, in actual fresh air and breathing it in, while growing up in the Circle Tower of Ostwick. As a young mage, with really nothing else going for him, no freedom from his oppressors, he took that opportunity and ran with it. Now he had a special fondness for all that he did with that green thumb of his. “Maybe it’s just an herbalist thing, I don’t know,” he shrugged. Morrigan might get what he was saying; she felt just as strongly about her own plants, in her own greenhouse.
Mages working for the CIA, what an interesting story that would have been. Ripe for one of those urban fantasies geared towards young adults they seemed to enjoy turning into movies these days. Raistlin chuckled softly. He understood where the man was coming from. While it wasn’t unusual to meet someone who was versed in magic within Orange County, they were still very much the minority here, as were everyone who frequented the Network and Dreamed. Those who were unaware of such things would have likely looked at this man and his otherworldly herbs with suspicion if not downright skepticism.
Raistlin had to admit the names were quite creative. Bloodlotus in particular made him smile. Elfroot seemed somehow fitting for most of the elves he had met, at least in his Dreams. Another chuckle, this one more of a wheezing cough. Blasted cold air. Raistlin cleared the tightness of his throat. “I do actually appreciate that fact. In fact, I’m very interested to know more. What world do these come from, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Thedas,” Max replied right away, and he’d mentioned it to many people - maybe this other man had heard of it. “If that sounds familiar at all. I’m Max. Trevelyan,” he added, holding out his hand for a shake - better known as just the Inquisitor in his home world, but it wasn’t as if he went around introducing himself as such. That felt like so long ago, and he was glad to leave the power behind - it had cost him his arm, which seemed a small price to pay given that even after Corypheus was slain his life would never be the same.
After hearing the rattle of that cough again, he reached for a small sachet and offered t to his newfound companion here. “Embrium, good for ailments of the lungs, like I said. Maybe it’ll help? These flower petals can be brewed to make tea, just steep them in hot water and drink. The story goes that the daughter of a Lord in Orlais grew ill, some mysterious sickness that no healer seemed to be able to treat - thinking that she’d perish, her parents placed bright, colorful flowers by her bed to bring her cheer in her final days, and breathing in the scent was what ended up curing her.”
At the very least, the embrium made breathing easier even if it wouldn’t cure whatever sickness this was. But it was completely natural, and it wouldn’t cause harm. So it was worth a shot.
The corners of Raistlin’s mouth pulled downward. Herb tea. He drank a tea in the Dreams made of herbs that was supposed to ease his cough. It worked well enough most of the time, but it tasted like bark and mud and looked about as appealing. So far he’d been fortunate enough to avoid having it show up in his kitchen as a “gift.”
At least the Embrium had a nice story to go along with it. And flower petals were apt to make a better tasting tea than roots. So Raistlin hoped. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to try. And who knew, perhaps the herbs from another world would do what the medicine of this one could not. Raistlin thanked the man for the offer. “I’ll give it a try,” he said. “Hopefully they smell and taste better than the herbs from Krynn.” He removed his hands from his pockets and wrapped long fingers around the sachet.
“You come from Thedas,” he went on thoughtfully as he looked at the sachet in his hand carefully. “A friend of mine dreams of living there. She and her partner.” Raistlin’s head tilted slightly as he regarded Max carefully. “Trevelyan.” He said the name as if trying to slip it into a slot of his memory. “I’ve heard that name before.” Icy eyes narrowed slightly. “Over the summer, if I recall, when rifts to other dimensions opened up all over the county. I seem to recall you were in charge of closing them again. I had hoped to meet you then. Unfortunately, my sister, friend and I were forced to abandon the rift we had been dealing with before you arrived.”
Embrium on the house, then. Max hoped it helped. The flower itself belonged to the orchid family, and was really quite beautiful. He remembered being particularly pleased when he found the seedlings along the Storm Coast, and also in a few places in the Hinterlands. Building up his Skyhold herb garden had been a fulfilling project.
As for the rifts, yeah. He still kind of felt responsible for that. “Isabela?” Max guessed. “And Hawke.” Unless Raistlin was talking about Maia and Morrigan, but he doubted it. “Right, I was in charge of closing the rifts when they opened - I had a mark on my hand, the same one that was connected to that giant hole in the sky so it provided the necessary power to close the smaller holes. Unfortunately, I lost the hand when the mark was done away with too,” he motioned toward his prosthetic arm. “It wasn’t really the kind of power mortals were meant to wield. I’m trained as a necromancer mainly. And a potions-crafter too, obviously.”
“Yes, that would be them,” Raistlin nodded. He was closer to Bella than he was with Hawke, but at least he felt as though he could call upon Hawke should he need to. If for nothing else than to answer a few questions about how magic worked on Thedas. It was very different than the magic Raistlin himself was used to wielding.
And speaking of different magic. “Necromancy,” he stated. “That’s a very rare art. Taboo even among the taboo. I’m curious. The mark on your hand. Where did it come from? How was it linked the hole in the sky? Were you aware of that power before the hole opened?” Tact was not necessarily Raistlin’s strongest attribute, especially when it came to things he wanted to learn more about.
Talking about the Anchor many months after everything had happened? Well, alright. Max would do his best to sum it all up. He didn’t really mind discussing everything - it just happened to be a lot, was all. And oftentimes convoluted. “The Inquisition was originally meant to be a neutral force to maintain order at the tail end of a mage-templar war, and religious in nature - but the Chantry wanted nothing to do with it after the Divine, sort of like the Pope I guess, was killed. The event that killed her was what gave me the mark, and after that I was looked at as being...touched by the Maker, I guess, since I survived,” Max grinned ruefully. He at the time hadn’t believed a word of it either. Herald this, Andraste that - no thanks.
“I became important by accident,” he added, with a huffy snicker. “A symbol for the cause. But no, I wasn’t aware of what the mark was, or that I could even handle it attaching itself to me. It’s connected to the Veil, which is what separates the Fade from the waking world. Demons reside in the Fade - spirits, and things of that nature. When a hole was blown in the Veil, the anchor on my palm was what closed it and the other rifts. The original owner of the anchor was an elf named Solas - he wasn’t expecting me to survive bearing the mark. But as for what he wanted to do with it, let’s just say he had his own agenda.”
A long story, that whole thing. Trevelyan always grew weary thinking of Solas - how he’d been there for everything, grew close to most of the Inquisition, he was one of them. Until he betrayed them.
Raistlin listened attentively and with keen interest in his sharp blue eyes. Just like whenever he could get Hawke to talk about Thedas, Raistlin paid special attention. It was all so different and yet aspects of the world was also very similar. The mage wondered if certain themes were common no matter what realm one found themselves in. Politics and religion seemed constant thorns in people's sides no matter where they called home. Beliefs were troublesome creatures. It was hard to change someone’s beliefs. You could change their ideas, but their beliefs, the things they held to be true in the deepest parts of their beings, could be as immovable as stone and just as crushing.
The same was true on Krynn. Raistlin and his fellow companions had found that out for themselves. Changing religion, bringing back the old gods, had marked them as heretics. Everyone around them, who involved themselves with their divine mission, had their own agenda. They pushed and pulled the group this way and that all the while attempting to avoid the inevitable war that had loomed on the horizon until it had overtaken them all. Raistlin himself hadn’t been any different. He could still so vividly see the look on his twin brother’s face the moment he realized Raistlin had abandoned them to die. Crushed, confused, pleading. It would stay with him forever. A dark look hooded the mage’s eyes and a frown pulled at his lips. “I understand,” he said, low voice practically the rasp of his counterpart. “That is unfortunate, but good that you did survive, Trevelyan. Both there and here. I hope for your sake that you don’t become a pawn in anyone else's agenda.”
“Now we’re sort of facing the potential end of the world in Thedas, but...” Trevelyan sighed. “We’ll see how it turns out. Anyway, I’d be glad to talk more about the Fade, and the Veil some other time - honestly, scholars have devoted books and years of study to both aspects,” and Maker knew that Solas considered himself the authority on the Veil, what with his claims that he created it. Snort. Max could just picture Dorian (in the dreams, anyway) rolling his eyes, not wanting to give the elf that much credit.
But yes, that aside. “...maybe, if you’re interested in Thedosian herbs, I can show you the garden at Skyhold?” Max offered. “And the mage tower. It’s a nice resource for people like us. Getting up to the keep is a lot easier now, with the gondola lift in place.”
He was proud of his ‘baby,’ in a sense. Even if not everyone appreciated the work that went into modernizing Skyhold, while at the same time being sure to respect its place in history.
Trevelyan was a very forthcoming individual and there was something about that had sparked Raistlin’s interest. Mages had a habit of keeping themselves to themselves. Perhaps it had to do with meddling in the Arts with people full of mistrust giving them all the side-eye until they needed those Arts. So that Trevelyan had invited him to further their discussion had Raistlin’s interest from the start.
“Yes, I would like that, thank you,” Raistlin nodded. “I would very much like to see Skyhold and the mage tower.” Sounded too much like the Tower of High Sorcery for Raistlin not to want to take a look.
“Alright, sounds good.” Trevelyan enjoyed spending time with other magic users, freely discussing and practicing their craft - it was a luxury that he didn’t get in Thedas, being shut away in the Circle and essentially told that he shouldn’t feel free to use his magic out in the open. Magic should serve man, never rule over him and all that other stuff that the Chantry took way too far. The mage tower at Skyhold was what he wished the one he’d grown up in, in Ostwick, could have been like.
Reaching into his pocket, he found his wallet and withdrew a business card. “Here’s all my contact info - I’m a therapist, but obviously also on Valarnet too. Feel free to get in touch, when you want a life up to Skyhold. And I hope the embrium helps a little,” he added. Even just breathing in the steam would no doubt ease the symptoms a bit. Herbs from Thedas worked in mysterious ways.
“Obviously,” Raistlin murmured as he took the card. A therapist. Another pull at the corners of his mouth. What an oddly fitting mundane occupation for someone known as The Inquisitor. Should their conversation ever come around to Raistlin’s family, the man was sure to have a field day. Hell, the man would probably have a field day just analysing Raistlin alone.
The card was slipped away into the inside breast pocket of his coat for safe keeping. “Thank you. For both the invitation and the embrium. I will let you know how it works.” Raistlin had every intention of trying it as soon as he got home. If it worked as well as Trevelyan seemed to think it would, Raistlin would definitely be a repeat customer.
He was also looking forward to the chance to talk magic at length with someone who’s specialty differed so much from his own. About the Veil and the Fade, things that greatly interested him. Once the card was safely tucked away along with the neglected shopping list. Raistlin extended his hand once more. “I neglected to introduce myself earlier, forgive me. Raistlin Majere,” And then added since it appeared as though they were divulging occupations, “Chemist for Stark Industries.” And then switching gears back to the original reason Raistlin had walked into the store, “I am interested in buying a few of your herbs here. As well as the items on my list.”
One could argue that a chemist was mundane too, for a mage who obviously exuded power - Max sensed it, in a way, that Raistlin was no parlor trick type of guy. But a chemist? Also fitting as well, sort of. Funny how their occupations in this world seemed tied to what they did in that other life.
“Raistlin, nice to meet you,” Max shook his hand. “Now that I’ve heard the name, I’m certain we’ve talked before.” But had never met in person - well, now was as good of a time as any. The world did what it would - sometimes people were thrown together under certain circumstances, sometimes they weren’t. “But sure, I’ll be happy to find you something Thedosian that you’d like to try in addition to the embrium. Let’s see - “
He pointed out a few others. “Foxmint soothes upset stomachs, dragonthorn is used in potions for stabilizing more volatile magical compounds, prophet’s laurel detoxifies, and spindleweed is another one that can treat ailments affecting the lungs but it can also be used in brews to offer resistance to elemental magic.”
Raistlin wasn’t as interested in the herbal remedies as he was the components used in spells, but he got a little bit of everything Trevelyan was selling, if for nothing else than experimental purposes. He had almost forgotten the original reason he’d come into the store. Almost. His basket was full of Thedosian herbs, which seemed rather exotic combared to the normal every-day items he had actually come into the store to get. Raistlin was rather excited to get back to his apartment and set to work cataloguing and discovering what these herbs could do.
He nodded his head to Trevelyan. “Thank you for your help,” he said. “I look forward to speaking with you again, soon.” No to mention a promised visit to Skyhold.