Day 36, Season Fall, 513 AV
It was frustrating, Nate decided, to be in a city that clearly had no use for you. At least in Syliras, he was able to hunt game in the surrounding forests and earn a living to feed him self and his two sisters. But here in Endrykas, they clearly did not trust him enough to permit such actions. He wasn't sure what they were so worried about; if he got lost or eaten out there, what concern of theirs was it? Nonetheless, with not much else he could actually do, Nate decided to see if he could perhaps put his medical skills to use.
Nate figured there had to be some healers, even in a tent city like this one. Working his way across the many colorful pavilion tents set up, he frowned as he realized he still had no way of knowing where those healers would actually be. Given the mobile nature of the city, he wondered if the configuration of the tents would change each time the city moved. Wonderful. If that were the case, he'd never, ever find his way in this city.
Nate continued to wander about, observing the trading and rapid-fire Pavi being exchanged as hunters turned in pelts for Mizas, arrows, services, and other such things. It was fascinating to see how, despite their nomadic nature, these people apparently bartered in much the same way the Syliran merchants did. Put some stone walls up, change the pavilions to stalls, switch the language to Common and this would be the Bazaar at midday, where Nate had to sell quite a few pelts of his own. He still remembered haggling and dealing with obstinate merchants trying to bargain him down.
After another few chimes of fruitless wandering, Nate noticed that some of the pavilions were truly huge. He didn't know the reason those particular tents were larger than others, but he suspected it might be because they belonged perhaps to larger, more important families, or perhaps the centers at which major clans gathered. Nate still didn't know the dynamics of this city, and that made figuring out the purposes of the layout of the tents even harder for him.
The sweet and spicy odor of herbs being prepared floated by Nate's nostrils. It was faint, but noticeable, especially to a medic like Nate who trained himself to recognize the smell of herbs in the event he'd need to find them. Granted it could also be the odor of a meal being cooked, but those smells tended to be more aromatic and less... medicinal and sharp. And even though Nate did not recognize these specific odors he did know they were definitely medical in nature.
Following the scent, he found himself before another one of the huge pavilions, this one brilliant-white, with people walking quickly in and out of the place with the measured and determined pace of people with places to be. Nate recognized that pace, it was the pace of doctors tending to patients, of medics tending to the injured.
He'd seen it often enough when apprenticing back in Syliras, and peering inside the pavilion, he could see the bedrolls with patients on them, the herbs hanging in front of fires to dry, clay pots undoubtedly with medicine lined up on makeshift tables, mortar and pestle placed not too far away to grind seed into life-saving medication. A hospital tent, then, and clearly the main hospital from the size of it.
Nate was frankly uncertain how to offer his services here. What could he say? "Hi, I'm a captive, and I hate being here. But I've got medical skills, and I'm bored, so can you use some help?" Oh yeah, that would go over real well. Nate sighed. Well, there was only one way to find out if they would accept his help, and that was to go inside. But almost as soon as he did he was stopped by a wiry-looking man with tattoos down his arms. He glanced at Nate, brown eyes meeting brown eyes, as he carefully evaluated this new intruder.
"Sorry. Cannot let captive work here," he determined, finally. Nate pressed his lips into a thin line as he worked to keep his temper under check. Seriously? What exactly was he supposed to do, sit on his thumbs? He truly did not understand what the Drykas were keeping him around for. Unlike his sisters he couldn't carry children for them (a prospect he was already none-too-happy about), and now they were essentially telling him he couldn't even use his skills in a productive manner? What did these people want from him?!
"Look," he grumbled, "I get that you people don't trust me. And believe me, the feeling's mutual. But seriously, you're going to turn down help just because of the source? I can promise you that as a medic I help everybody in need, regardless of who they are."
Nate wasn't even sure the Drykas man even understood what he said to him, since he only stared back for a few ticks, blinking a few times before finally replying, "Cannot. Captive not become. Captive not trust. Must leave, many patients to see."
Nate sighed. With the language barrier firmly in place, combined with the mutual distrust, it was unlikely he'd find much success here. Yet another dead-end. He really beginning to wonder if the Drykas was going to permit him to do anything at all in this petching place. Nate sighed as he turned and walked back out the pavilion. It wouldn't have mattered anyway.
His medical knowledge was basic; really just emergency first-aid. Good, perhaps, for stabilizing a patient in the field, and getting them sufficiently mobile and healthy to make it back to camp to get real treatment, but not for a hospital setting. Perhaps it was for the best. He didn't recognize more than half the herbs hanging from those drying racks anyway, and with the language barrier on top of it all, he doubted he'd have been any real help at all.
