Doctor Deepwater Ambyss moved about his clinic with the confident stride of a being in complete control of his situation. He would stop occassionally to make corrections here and there to those of his assistants that hadn't yet gotten the sort of experience the good doctor had, or chat on a more personal level with a patient to provide a lift when he think they needed one or just as a way to better gauge their mental and emotional states. Overall, he was very pleased with how his little clinic had progressed over the last year or so.

He was now providing reliable medicine and health advice to one of DCs poorest yet most diverse little sections, often to beings who would otherwise have had no other options. Yes, over the past year he'd fixed up travelers, the elderly, the homeless, the just plain poor, he'd even taken in one or two orphans who'd shown promise as healers and taught them the tricks of his ever-changing trade, along with anyone else who was willing to learn from a five foot tall, over-one-hundred pound "slimy lizard' as he'd occasionally been called. With their help, as word spread of what he was doing he had managed to do even more good. His clientele had expanded to include wealthy landlords looking to get treated on the cheap and even many members of the city's criminal element, seeking treatment from Ambyss when the causes of their ailments and injuries weren't strictly speaking legal. Why just a few weeks ago, the senior members of two of DCs largest street gangs had negotiated a truce right in his little building's front lobby. While waiting to have their wounds treated, naturally.

 The doctor had done without ever asking for payment. Ambyss would hardly need the money anyways. Despite his work in the clinic, his research findings were still regularly published in the form of papers and treatises in several different medical journals and other such academic nonsense that were actually willing to pay him for the privilege, as well as the occasional even more prominent former colleague looking to 'borrow' his unique insight. To those in such lofty positions his insight did not come cheaply. Yes, Deepwater Ambyss was certainly pleased with his clinic, his patients and his students.

But in terms of his life, he was barely content. For a while the challenge of setting up shop here, in one of the worst parts of a bustling city, had been enough for him. There had been much to learn about human physiology, and the other local difficulties of corrupt government officials and gangs who didn't understand or approve of his vision had kept him occupied for a time. But now, with things finally going well he was feeling the need to move on again to some other desperate place. Anywhere that wasn't Caudela anyways, seeing as he'd had his fill of trying to help his homeworld some time ago.

Of course Ambyss couldn't leave quite yet. His students were certainly capable enough of taking his place, but rumors had suddenly started flying in that the local noble thief upon which many of his patients depended had gotten himself arrested. That would mean crackdowns on the populace to set an example of what happened when you supported those who stole, if Ambyss interpreted things right, and that would mean a sudden influx of patients, some of whom might only live or die in the very best hands.

So for a while, Ambyss would have to stay.