#op med vol 1 intro

[opera-medicinalia]

Volume 1, Prelude Part 1

Beginning of filebox of the new, non-magical, medical practice set up by Doctor Fen Hanshmara on behalf of the proprietor of The Wandering Dealer.

End. - -

————————

Personal Log Begins - -

Today, I started a new job. It’s.. Illicit, in a way of speaking.

I lied my way in. I told the boss (he still hasn’t given me his name, and no one will tell me) that I had a previous general practice set up in Dinfernuts. An easy falsehood to uncover, for anyone committed enough. I’ve never practiced as a doctor and it’s in my best interest that nobody finds out. I’ve also never been to Dinfernuts. Nobody goes to Dinfernuts. I don’t even know where Dinfernuts is. I just figured it was far enough away from Halosis that no one would care.

[opera-medicinalia]

Volume 1, Prelude Part 6

The tavern’s bartender, a dour human man with a permanent scowl, told me over my second brush with moonshine that the Boss knows Elkehir well and doesn’t care to hire any other magical healers, even the cheap ones — according to the bartender, he tried once, but the healer went running after seeing Ceilah, a dwarven woman — and former bodyguard of the Boss — rip the head off an orc who owed her money. Elkehir, at least, doesn’t care. I met him about an hour ago and he’s the type to say something like “That’s showbiz, darling,” and then down a bottle of cooking sherry. I think. He seems easy to read.

So here I am. Alone, in a windowless room, ready to patch up thieves and assassins with my scarce medical knowledge (using bandages/twine/the like, I never got the hang of magical healing during my year and a half of healers’ school) so I can perform my research in peace. I’m not sure how long I’ll last here. I’m not sure if I care anymore. I just need to do something with my life.

[opera-medicinalia]

Volume 1, Prelude Part 4

Why are some drake-kin fire resistant when others aren’t? “Magic.” Why can elves from the Azymoth swivel their ears while other elves can’t? “Also magic.” Why do dwarves heal faster than everyone else? “You know what the answer is!” It’s lazy and fucking annoying. We know that some taxa do certain things and others don’t, but no one really cares to know why. Sorry. I digress.

Anyway, it was highly unsatisfying, and telling your lecturers that we could figure out the actual answers to these questions by dissecting corpses just made them upset. I even tried to pass it off as an autopsy thing — as in “When someone dies in a weird way, we can take notes on the rest of their body too!” But that didn’t fly. “No one will care if we use the bodies of executed criminals!” also didn’t work.

At one point, I considered leaving the Human Empire. At least the Azymoth and the Elven Kingdom have lax rules when it comes to necromancy and anything associated with it. But that also may not be true — the Empire doesn’t trust other kingdoms and it could all be part of a slander campaign. It would be shit if I went through the effort of a month-long trip to move halfway across the continent only for the elves to tell me that corpses are sacred and should be returned to the earth.

[opera-medicinalia]

Volume 1, Prelude Part 3

I’ll tell you, me, whoever might read this, how I got here. Which probably isn’t necessary since I’m the only person who’ll touch these notes, but I’m lonely and I like writing. Anyway, I — // Someone is at the door —

— It was Rosalind the accountant, checking to make sure I’d settled in. I’m not sure why she felt the need. It’s not like I can climb out a window. This is a dingy little room, but at least there’s a good lock. I’ll give them that.

It started when I failed wizard school

It started when I thought I was smart enough to be a Magistrate-level wizard. To be fair, I didn’t know it was going to be that hard. I lost steam pretty quick when I realised I just didn’t give a shit about what I was learning. Magic is cool. Magic is interesting. Like a lot of people, I use simple spells daily. But it was difficult to study when I kept asking questions about why things were the way they were, anatomically speaking.

[opera-medicinalia]

Volume 1, Prelude Part 2

For this reason, I’ll be keeping these records under my floorboards. It wasn’t hard to pry them up. I don’t think the cheery accountant who showed me to my room will check for hiding places, but who knows. If the boss finds out, I’ll probably end up in an alleyway with my tongue cut out and my guts around my ankles. Such is life. Maybe the next idiot will find these notes and publish whatever discoveries I’ll manage to compile in this shithole. I’m wondering if I’m going wrong with all of this. But my practice — that is, the type of research (“self-study”) I want to engage in is illicit, just like the man who hired me and the clients I’ll get here. Hell, I know it’s highly questionable, but I’m not going to get access to cadavers anywhere else. People die here all the time. I’ll just get to cut them up afterwards and make notes on their anatomy before they get thrown onto the street for someone else to find.