Artemy sort of shrugs at the idea. Even though some of the words First Aid uses goes over his head, like servitor, he gets the gist of it, "You are respectful, you speak to me as an equal, so I will treat you as one."

He waves his hand to gesture First Aid to come inside. He isn't sure how far he can fit inside, but, well, he will leave him to figure that out.

"This-" He puts his hand on a large vat attached to a pressurizer of some sort "Is an alembic. I use the herbs-" Artemy waves his hands about, there are herbs drying everywhere, "In here, turn them into tinctures."

He moves quietly to a table beside the alembic with a beaker and a burner, "This is my brewery, here, I combine some tinctures with other materials to create painkillers, and hopefully antibiotics, when the time comes."

He conveniently skips over what exactly he uses in these painkillers and antibiotics while moving towards the middle of the room.

"And this. Cot for surgery." He nudges the small bed with his leg. It's made for working, not for comfort. "Hoping to get one, maybe two more in here."