O:e:O:i:O:i:e, hermit of medicine

Mythos

f There are rumors of how, somewhere deep in the Katisva Mountains in the core of Blotaya's great swamp, there lives a hermit of miracles. No one knows the elder, where they came from, who their family is or was, or why they're so well trained in the medicinal arts. Some say they're a divine entity, some say they've lived a life longer than even the Elder Gheforis, some say it's all a bunch of fairy glamour.

Those who decide the rumors are true seek help, prepared in body, spirit, and pockets. The price one must pay for a miracle service must be undoubtedly costly. One's firstborn, life savings, an arm, a leg, memories of childhood, one's most prized possession, anything can be claimed in compensation. Not many feel this is worth the effort of discovering them, but those who have nothing left to live for will make the pilgrimage. Whether or not these desperate souls find salvation is up for speculation, if they return at all. Those who are seen again come back healthier than they've ever been. All will refuse to speak on O:e:O:i:O:i:e, save but a name.

Wanted Skill

... cult has a branch in the district of Kexist? Fine, that, the information on the heart's location, and the creation of golems will suffice as your payment.

Unfortunately, I cannot tell you where they are, you'll have to find that out for yourself. I can, however, say that you will have to pay more than you realize. Friendship, as cheezy as it is, is the ultimate payment. Once you pay, you'll find no match for their skill in all medicine, chemistry, alchemy, surgery, auratherpy, aromatherapy, psychology, and everything else. You won't be able to learn either, you'll be knocked out in body and in spirit. Search the mountains, a small cottage nestled somewhere...

No, I can't be more specific... Listen, I understand your predicament, but I cannot tell you. They already don't like people, and they won't like you if you treat them the way you've been treating me...

I don't care how rich and powerful you are. Get off my ship. Now.

— Witch of Knowledge

The reason no one will speak on them:

Show spoiler

They have a little saftey measure put in place for all patients. If anyone were to talk about themn beyond their name, what they did to them to make them healthy will be undone. They very much like their solitary life style with their little Estebyel garden, personal library, and public scryvision.

Name pronunciation found here: a;O;u;

Species: Roqbherg
Ethnicity: unaffiliated
Biological sex: male
Gender: non-binary
Favorite food: toasted walnuts

Apperance

I've been taken to O:e:O:i:O:i:e once, I was sick beyond sick. They're old, so they've got wrinkles over their entire body and saggy skin. I wish he had his surgeon's gown on more often, it actually makes them look really cool with all the black, gloves, leather, and a rad doctor's mask. That mask looks like a demon, a kingly demon with their giant horns. I can't imagine how they can't even bother to shave their horns, it has to be heavy on their head.

Their aura is also pretty rad. It's a bunch of cinnamon-smelling orang reaching hands with sharp green fingertips. Hands upon hands upon hands, reaching up and up to grab... something.

— Defza