My story approach to The Spice Vendor.
A traveler by heart.
There are some people in this world that are perfectly fine with living the same life, day in and day out, happy to wake up in the same bed under the same roof. This is not our spice vendor. Unease the next day he comes home from a trip, feels trapped by the squared geometry of four walls. The world is too big, he thinks to himself, nature too diverse, mountains too breathtaking, that to have a conscious mind miss out on the experience is a tragedy. In defense of people who like to stay at home, chilling, and are perfectly fine doing so, explorers may be the ones that map the terrain, but homestayers are the bedrocks from where civilizations arise. So stay at home, go out, do whatever you want.
Our vendor probably comes from a long lineage of explorers and travelers, people from thousands of years ago that for some reason kept pushing the horizon, eager to see what was beyond that hill or beyond the oceans. Whatever drive they had hasn’t diminished even thousands of generations later, it lives well in the genetics of our spice master. It’s not that he likes to travel, it’s that he doesn’t even have a choice, he stops and his mind wanders, the strain creeps in, he gets distracted and off he goes. But even so, he likes the calmness before his inner storm, he does stay a while in every place he visits, and always keeps a souvenir from all his whereabouts.
Always moving around means danger, so being ready to defend yourself is crucial if you are going to follow the road. Danger from people, animals, the weather, the world is a dangerous place. All the walking leaves him needing shoes more often than normal. Same for clothing, he has to change them quite often, but for some reason never seems to need to buy them, people everywhere he goes are happy to hand out garments native to their region. His belongings are very few, everything he owns needs to fit on his back, otherwise he doesn’t keep it, since he much rather fills his bags with trinkets and whatnot.
The vendor started collecting spices one time he was moving through India. He was on a quest to see if he could walk the shores of every continent on the planet, start at one point, hug the shoreline, keep going forward and see if he could end up in the same place. Some Indian dude called him crazy, that there was no need for such a silly thing but… he said “well since you are already committed to doing it, in every place you stop, please ask for spices, collect them and when you come around this same spot, look for me and I will pay you handsomely for your troubles.” He traveled far but walking the shore challenge was not feasible at that time in his life, yet it was not in vain since he discovered the amazing delight in spices.
He returned to the Indian man after some time on the road, only to find him even healthier than when he met him the first time. Our spice vendor said to him “hey remember me? I have your spices.” And the Indian dude was like “Who are you? the guy who what? Ah yes yes yes, that guy… no I have no need for that anymore, I have too much money now, you can keep those, go away I won’t pay you.” But at least he had his delights in spice now. His travels had more meaning than just walking.
He bought Vadimspice Mercantile Homestead with the money he made from collecting rare spices. He enjoys coffee in the mornings, but only in the mornings, after it’s not a.m. if he drinks it wont let him sleep during the night. Even Though he travels a lot and works all day, he likes to keep the house clean, at least he tries. He likes his garden, he tends to his trees, he likes art, likes the cool breeze of the mornings, speaks lots of languages, reads a lot, collects books from all over, history is his favorite subject, is a man of science but has a weak spot for the occult and the possibility of things beyond our comprehension. To the point where he suspects in his property lives a strange creature, but being a man of science he tries to look for a more logical explanation. There’s also this girl that lives a mile away from his homestead, but for all his intellectual readings, words always escape him when talking to her.
And every now and then, the strain creeps in, he gets distracted and he knows what’s going to happen next, before his first step, he is off again.
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