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Second from the Left [Closed]

Kiran Xuresh

Circle Mage
DAO/DA2 Timeline
(( 27 Firstfall, 9:35 Dragon; the Wonders of Thedas, early enough in the morning that one may ponder if this is payback for an outing a couple days prior. The shop's clearly moving stock around, temporary shelving placed here and there, but hopefully Mysaria Grivia and Aerion Hunter will be nothing like the Wardens that came through years before and used the place to have a fight. ))

The armoured heap slumped against the table near the front, a cautious side-eye from the shopkeep warning him to mind the porcelain that wobbled precariously at all the jostling, and Cedric knew that he was dying.

Of exhaustion.

And a little bit of boredom.

And a whole lot of a hangover.

"Let's just take a look," he said. "It won't be long," he said. "Besides, I heard Seren works there now, and-" and Cedric had all but collapsed out of bed and into something resembling a templar uniform, bleary red eyes meeting perfectly clear blues as he was all set to play shadow for a man who had evidently never understood the meaning of fatigue.

Kiran smiled from behind the rack of cluttered robes, his feigned interest in a dark green sleeve and the haphazard disarray of the second floor's rearrangement forming the perfect vantage as he observed the templar glowering at the shopkeep, a tall, bald man with furry arms that most certainly didn't look like a Seren. He'd have to stop by later and see how the elf was doing, not to mention meet with the proprietor and ask his usual litany of questions. But for now, he was simply browsing, and judging from the stiffness of Cedric's slouch caught somewhere between 'on duty' and 'come back in three hours,' he gauged that he had 20, maybe 30 minutes before they became a little more memorable than he preferred.

The Circle mage turned back to the aisle then, drifting past the bone-carved figurines and the dreamcatchers interwoven with colourfully dyed feathers. There was a familiar musk to this disheveled stack of secrets - it reminded him of the Kinloch library at first, with its ancient, knowledge-laden earthiness of row upon row stacked with books all waiting in their quiet solitude for an eager mind to disrupt their slumber. This was similar, and yet sharper in its rough-hewn stone and fraying rope. Where those tomes had been dull and distant, a second-hand recital of the world and what was in it, the shelves now were filled with the trinkets that had lived it.

He stopped at a wooden cup. It was stained in something dark and sleek that caught light at all the wrong angles, a curious hand already drifting to pick it up and turn it over. It appeared to simply be illusion, his thumb brushing over the carvings detailed into the side and yet finding nothing that shouldn't be there. Perhaps it was warded against poisons, or came from a type of lumber unknown this far north, and all the same in that moment of speculation, Kiran couldn't help but feel the echo of a tug that may have drawn him to discover such items and not merely drift through stores wondering at them, had circumstances been just a little bit different. He would've made a great navigator. Also likely an incessant nag, always the one to chide 'Don't be so reckless!' and never the one to hear it, although he would've been good at that, too.

But that was a lifetime away, and he was here for a reason. The cup set back amongst the miscellany, he made his way to the alchemical ingredients, briefly looking over the selection of jars, bottles, and odd bundles of plants in every state of preservation possible. He needed some of them, the labels all clearly marked, yet his brow would run out of things to furrow about if he could ever keep them all in memory. Somewhere between the flasks and vials, he found the space to set down his bookmarked reference, eyes scanning for the item in question. And then again.

And then a third time, now broadening his search for someone that might have better luck locating the speckled root that hid suspiciously well.