The books seemed to have, at least currently, very little use for him.
Some books which seemed to contain legends and other fleshling stories, some more which had signs on the envelope which looked somehwat arcane, his translation software did not seem to recognize them. There were more books around, albeit further away.
The weapons seemed to be mostly... primitive, for a lack of better words, bladed and blunt weapons which had been badly crafted and were of terrible materials, staffs that seemed to serve no immediate purpose, here and there were some very primitive firearms, single-shot weapons which had to be manually reloaded after every firing cycle and some with drum magazine. A tad further away a faint energy signature peaked his interest, it was in the opposite direction of the door, and seemed to be coming from... another bladed weapon?
The man looked up at him and then under the table, then back at him...
"Ah, I'n sarry to tull ye thut we's all booked up fer tunigh, we'n had a lot o' strange folk around recent, begging you'n pardn' o' cours."
He scratches his brow.
"I'n can't ev'n uffer ye a bed ean tha stable, tes fill up wi' ox."
The man pulled a small pocket watch out of his jacket and looked at it for a moment.
"Thirteen past four mister, the closest Garrison would be the one to the west, don´t worry, you´ll just have to head out the frontgate and then go down the street until you reach it."
"Fare well then, good luck in the town."
As Prophet was a bout to turn away he saw something somewhat... unsettling.
On the wall behind the man, which had formerly been blank, was now a door, the door was of a black wood with a small red sign carved into it´s surface at around half height...
The sign seemed familiar and as he was this time closer he could also make it out in detail.
It was the same door he had seen earlier and it was still emanating the same feeling of terror and fear.
After a moment he heard the voice of the man infront of him.
"Mister, are you okay?"
It seems he had been staring at the door subconsciously, albeit nobody else in the room had noticed it, or teh door for that matter.
The woman opened one of the drawers on her desk and pulled out some papers and looked through them.
"Galdrea has a variety of available jobs and yet the mistborn do not always have the knowledge to work any of them, therefor most jobs can be learned in the city."
She split the papers into three different packages.
"First of there´s three categories. 'Military', which includes soldier and guard jobs, if your service is satisfying you can eventually become a palace guard but that is a long way from here. 'Infrastructure', this includes alot of the maintenance jobs, cleaning, food production and buerocratic work, higher positions will only be available when you have been citizen for a while, but eventually you might even work at the court of the Queen. Lastly there is the 'Craft', these include most of the jobs in the Trade districts, traders themselves, manufacturers and most the jobs involved with the manufacturing process."
She paused for a brief moment.
"You still have not told me your race though."