Clearly they have a lot of power especially with one of them sitting on the throne.

Mostly they're scary. Ordinary problems just kill you.

After they're herded out of the carriage, a middle-aged, not-quite-plump woman in white with a dove charm on a necklace meets them at the door.

"Blessings upon you all. You're the woman Lady Kajetana has asked us to examine?"

Also in the entry hall - a man in black and brown robes with a scythe, leaning against the wall.

"Yes."

"Then come this way, with the lady witch and... the gentleman? - to observe."

The surgery is carefully swept and has been washed and mopped in the last few days, probably. It will not be impressively clean by a modern standard.

The surgeon is relatively young but balding. He's wearing a large, heavy black apron and examining his tools - knives of a few shapes, mostly.

"If I can ask what are the knives for? I thought this was just... oh I suppose you wouldn't have needles for blood drawing."

"I expect to use this one, primarily," the man says, pointing to a very narrow stiletto, "But I have all my tools nonetheless."

"And does doing this in a temple like this mean the risk of infection is reduced or eliminated? Or alternatively how do you clean your tools?"

"The temple, no. The priestess, yes. I wash the roll" - there's a roll of dark leather the tools are sitting on - "and place the blades in the fire until they begin to show red when removed, before each day I am called to do surgery. I was told this was important, so I sought Dazh's blessed fire today."

"I believe that will suffice."

"It's your choice. I do have some alcohol wipes if that's something our hosts would be alright with."

The priestess glances to Teisiya, who nods. "To... clean the skin to be punctured?"

"Yes that's the idea." He gets out a couple of what look like paper packets.

"That seems reasonable," she says, but still looks at them as dubiously as you'd expect from someone who barely recognizes it as paper.

"You'll have to disrobe for the skin examination, young lady," she tells Teyla, "And if you want to drink some kvas* now for the pain later we have it."

*vodka. This is etymologically incorrect, don't worry about it.

"I believe I will manage without the kvas." She walks over to a nearby table and starts to disrobe. She unlaces her boots and sets them to the side. She pulls off her jacket and folds it then pulls off her shirt leaving her in a simple breast binding and folds her shirt. Then she pulls off her pants, fold those and finally removes her socks and underthings. Through the whole process she's slow and methodical. If there's a little hesitation after each step it's only somewhat noticable.

Sheppard carefully averts his gaze. He instead focuses on the surgeon. He expects he'll catch something of an eyeful when the time comes but it wouldn't be professional to let his eyes longer unnecessarily as curious as a part of him is.

The surgeon focuses on his tools until the priestess starts taking the lead. They look closely at Teyla's skin, and particularly at moles and other marks, and she mutters prayers to Salyak constantly, but nothing much happens. At one point the priestess's prayers shift language and a feeling of a warm wind blowing over her skin hits Teyla.

"You are externally pure," she says not long after that.

Teyla stands with a bit of tension but mostly just awkwardness through this process. She relaxes a little when the priestess declares that she's passed the first set of tests.

Sheppard focuses on the priestess when she approaches Teyla and therefore catches a glimpse of Teyla but when it becomes clear nothing much is happening he looks back to the surgeon.

There is a wide bench with leather straps to tie a patient down to, and they gesture her to it after the previous part is done, at the same time as they hand back her clothes.

"The arm on that shirt is very narrow; likely it will be damaged. There should be a clean sheet to be draped over you instead in the closet in the hall; Fyodor, fetch that, please."

She accepts the pile and puts everything but her shirt and coat back on. "Thank you."

John again averts his eyes while she's dressing and then steps over and passes her the alcohol wipe packets.

"Thanks."

The surgeon, who is apparently Fyodor, returns with a clean white linen sheet.

"You'll want to be strapped down tightly," the surgeon says, "Chest and arm both. Even hearty warriors twist in pain, and that would cause much more damage than needed."

Teyla grimaces but nods. She lies down in the appropriate position. "Where are you planning to cut?"

"Inside the elbow for blood, and then the armpit for the white bile. The same arm, to leave you with one still good while you heal. Are you right-handed?"