The second woman she tries asks if she learned to speak Taldane from the horses.

Ughhhh okay wow.  She really needs to learn some more swearwords.  (Maybe they were broadcasting 'don't talk to me' in Chelish and she just can't tell because nearly everyone looks stoically pissed off to her nearly all the time.)

She can beat a mostly-dignified retreat and shut out the rest of the world to bury herself in Alter Musical Instrument for a while. 

One of her squad silently takes up a position at her shoulder, apparently just to glare at anyone approaching without a good reason.

This might be counterproductive in terms of also scaring off people who maybe would want to trade spells, but she honestly does not care right now.  If this is just how things work here then she's so glad she has the squad backing her up.  She shoots him a tiny grateful smile. 

She stays focused on Alter Musical Instrument long enough that it's about time to start thinking about her second channel once she's finished, and by then she's back on a much more even keel.  She'll ask Lloris (and the local guy who was arranging them bunks, if he's still around) if they need to announce it or something to make sure everyone's heard who didn't get in on the first one.

Lloris goes to interface with the locals about this and then comes back to tell her it's go time.

Once people are mostly assembled, she'll clamber up and give it a few more moments to be sure everyone's found the radius.

(Everyone is staring at her aaaaa... no, breathe, focus.  Magic is the coolest thing in the world, she is here to be living proof of that, Nethys likes her better than them anyway- shush, that's unworthy of a priestess- )

She raises the divided mask over her head, closes her eyes and lets the Divine Presence in.

Nobody at this one thanks her. They wait till they feel it and then they disperse.

Yeah, that's fine, whatever.

Once she gets down, she scrubs a hand across her face and remarks to her squad, "I seem to have began wrong.  Do you know how it is customary to trade spells here?"

"I'm not a wizard."

"You're the wizard here. I don't know what they do."

"Well, yes, but-" she drums her fingers on the table, "supposing that you wished to start a game of cards?  I'm unsure whether I've been rude or whether they merely dislike foreigners so strongly here."

"If I wanted to play cards I'd do it with the squad. Anyone who doesn't feel like an asshole could come see about being dealt in."

"If it weren't being a foreigner it'd be something else."

"Hey, I had a guy who'd deal a hand of cards here for a while, not everyone in this fort sucks. - he's dead," this guy adds to Khalida.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," she says to the third guy, and nods thoughtfully to the first.  "So one waits to be approached... I suppose it should be terribly Abadaran of me if I were to make a sign."

"You could make a sign," a guy says dubiously.

"But it is- not customary."  If nobody wants to trade spells she's going to be so bored.  She takes her notes out again, makes sure the list of spells she's willing to trade is visible but facing her and half under another leaf, so it looks sort of by accident, and opens her spellbook on her knees under the table to start up a Mending on one of the crumpled blank pages.  "What manner of card games are played here?"

"I've never seen a sign."

"I could teach you Phistophilus."

Then they can pass the time with cards and/or Mending until someone comes over to investigate the weird foreigner or it's time for the next channel or something else happens. 

Somebody (a male wizard) does come and read (upside-down) the spell list, but then moves on.

Fair enough, she's only got a couple especially weird ones, and if he doesn't say anything then she doesn't have to talk to him either.  She gives him a slight acknowledging nod while barely looking up from the card game.  Maybe he knows someone who wants Secluded Grimoire, except probably 'the information that there's a foreign wizard here' is itself a favor or something.  Ugh.

Phistophilus is a memorization and bluffing game where you try to construct a hand with ranks that match what's in the bottom of an increasingly tall pile and get partial credit if you accurately remember what you weren't able to collect.

Ooh, fun.  She's good at the memorization and terrible at the bluffing, loses cheerfully and wins (less often) graciously, tries playing distracted by glancing at her notes in between rounds to see if that makes her expression less of a giveaway, but discovers it leaves her making more than enough obvious mistakes to make up for it.

There's enough of a luck element in what you have opportunities to amass that she'll win some and lose some.

Then eventually it will be channeling time again.

People crowd in. There aren't any acute injuries - or if there are, their bearers are hiding them - but there's always wear and tear, pinpricks and stubbed toes and bruises and scrapes and bumps and picked-open boils and dry broken skin.

And now there is a wash of divine energy sweeping those away!  Hey folks did you know: Nethys can do this.

And she hops down from the table as they disperse, stifling a yawn.