ยค Age, approximately."Thirty, perhaps."ยค What Are You?โA tactile physician, oftentimes a surgeon.โA doctor. A procurer of vile medicines and surgical instruments. Nightmarish, but respected.
ยค What defines you?โThey fear us, but we are welcomed, nonetheless.โWeird. Salamanderโs slithering demeanour and proclivity for plural pronouns tends to unnerve his surroundings. Heโs unnaturally quiet, and is drawn to sickness like a fly to dead flesh. When not working, his hands tremble โ tales of withdrawal from his beloved opiates. He offers generous trades in exchange for intact cadavers.
ยค Who are you?โWe came from the North. The clan is dust, now, but we preserve its knowledge through practice.โSalamander hails from a small clan in the Eastern reaches of the jungle, known for its bizarre spirituality and affinity for medicinal studies. They had long worshipped the opium poppy and the hallucinogenic properties they had when consumed in excess, relaying them as blessed โvisionsโ to the Northernmost tribe of sun-worshippers. They flew tapestries painted with a peculiar, skull-like insignia; a fearful image to untrained eyes, but merely the proposed faรงade of their strange patron.
His upbringing is a hazy subject, even for him. His people were often emotionally disjointed from one another, pushing for knowledge above all else, and so his relationship with his parents was one of formality and mentorship. He learned to read and write, and studied practically, digging his hands through purchased cadavers and surveying the arrangement and affliction of their entrails. Such grisly exposures dulled his sense of emotion, and hardened him against the sight and smell of carnage.
For generations, he and his ancestors had been tolerated by their devout neighbours, who heeded their presence as talented chemists and surgeons. But the Sun God would apparently tire of their heathenry, and the tribe would burn them to cinders in the name of their scalding deity.
Emerging from his underground sanctuary, he beheld the remnants of his brethren; scorched husks amidst smoke and debris, and piles of poppies, still crackling with cinder. Their demise had been expected, and thus his mourning was shallow. He plucked the surviving opium seeds from their pods, loaded his caravan, and left. He would not return to the North.
Salamander had survived the ensuing genocide by mere chance, but not without consequence. His flesh was marred by flame, though not gravely so; by some miracle, his hands had been spared, along with his vision, and patchy portions of his body. He thanks the Poppy for this, though since his arrival at Steelbird Landing, he hides his dreadful portrait beneath sterile cloth and bandaging.
Though he fancies himself as a travelling doctor, his permanent abode at Steelbird Landing is a modest clinic, lined with dubious medicines, tools, and an absurd collection of glass bottles. Indeed, he values the rarity of intact glass, and pays generously for such things. Most of his supplies are acquired through trade, but he tends carefully to the many specimens which line his crooked greenhouse, particularly his small population of opium poppies.
ยค What do you want?โKnowledge, purpose. A cure for everything.โยค What do you believe?โThere is much to learn. The world offers insight, projecting their spirit through the Poppy. They gift us with visions, vestigesโฆ a narrow path to a less dire future.โยค What do you follow?โBlood. The Poppy calls to us, keeps us calm. My vitae yearns for its cradle. Our hands tremble without it.โยค A scarcity embodied:โAttainment. It is never enough. Too many to cure, too many to save. One plague always leads to the next.โยค Basic Instincts:- Salamander will always keep his face hidden.
- A satchel of basic medicines is always kept on his person.
- Opium serum is always within reach.
ยค What is the worst thing you've ever done to stay alive?โWe hid, while our clan burned. The heat still reached us and twisted our flesh. Such is our punishment.โยค Who did you fail to save? What did it cost?โWe could not aide the Sun Godโs acolyte. Couldnโt stop the blood. It was repaid with the blood of our clan.โยค Who's intentions do you question?โCopperhead enquires regularly about poison. Offers more generous trades each time, as if desperate. He tells us it is only for pest control, but such ichor is enough to kill a man thrice over. We will continue to refuse, for now.โยค Who wants you all to themselves?โThe raiding packs to the East heed us kindly when we trade. They ask if we want to stay, as a permanent fixture among their number.โยค Who or what do you worship?โThe Poppy. It is the vestige which steadies our surgical hand, and offers insight into what will come to pass.โHear the Whispers...
โThe Poppy calms our blood. Leaves us steady, and secure. Projects shadows upon the walls, and shapes among the trees. Whispers hints of salvation into our ear, and guides our hand as we cut through the flesh of the afflicted. It wants us to succeed against the plague.โOwn What You've Become
[WIP]
