Ma'ar is now at the point where he's using significant willpower not to squirm around visibly. It's not that he's in pain, exactly, but he's just uncomfortable. He risks shifting his position in small ways, a little at a time; probably no one can see through the immensely puffy blanket covering him.
...Which is starting to go from 'deliciously warm' to 'too warm'.
He does some simple mental arithmetic, checking how clearheaded he is. Tenses his muscles one at a time, checking that at least they all obey him. He manages to cast a tiny mage-light, just to confirm he can.
There are no minds within range of his Thoughtsensing. His vision is only a little doubled and blurred, now; he can see a - glass? - door or window. A corridor, then more glass. It's an odd sort of building. He does vaguely remember seeing a lot of glass before, when he was walking through the city, but it was dark at the time.
...He doesn't like the gap in his memories. He remembers walking, endlessly, and then there's fog, and fog, and fog, and then there's now. There are fragments in there but he has to struggle to put them in order.
Marian, outside. The river, the uniformed guard. That...must have been his capture, though he doesn't really remember how he ended up cornered like that, or why he had stopped moving. After that... A different room, not this one. A steel-barred cage. Pain. Being held down firmly, the unexpected and very unwanted feeling of something cold in his anus - attempting to run, failing -
Then there's a long gap of impassible fog, where all he remembers is the occasional agonizing pain hitting him from nowhere.
Now he's here. Still tied down, with things shoved into orifices that should not have things in them, his head aching dully, weak and drained - but he can stay awake, he can think, and he can use magic.
That's enough to start with.