Excellent. She wouldn't have been very surprised to get some variant of "this is a temple and you're not supposed to bring weapons in here." 

And that's pretty much it for things she wants to communicate right now? She's going to get comfortable in this bed and leak horrible slime and think about things and wait for dawn or for something else to happen.

Fraser is going to apologetically check her blood sugar one more time and, given that it's still on the higher end of fine, make a mental decision that he's not checking it again until the next time he has to wake her up for something or other. The blood pressure is set to cycle every 15 minutes and he'll keep weaning the norepinephrine down if it continues to be high, and hopefully wean her off it entirely?

...He's pretty sure he can wean her off it entirely, given how the Harry Potter wizard curse messing her up seems to have worn off and he's honestly not sure how much he means that as a metaphor. 

Anyway, he's glad she seems to be feeling chill about her entire sucky situation, and he's going to apologetically hover until her blood pressure is fine off pressors - he's not actually surprised at all when this happens twenty minutes later - and then dim the lights in case she wants to get some sleep, wave and smile, and de-gown and wash his hands really thoroughly and duck out. 

Emma, the night shift charge nurse, is at the monitor bank by the nursing station. She rounds on him.

     "Fraser, what the fuck did your patient stick her fucking sword in." 

Fraser blinks at her, and does not say out loud that this sounds like the leadup to a bizarre sex joke. "...Uh, did I miss something?" 

     "Your patient. Had a sword. Which is covered in horrible slime." 

"- Checks out, I guess? Where is it?" 

     Emma scowls. "Well, now it's in Pathology. While the ER clerk tries to track down all the people who might've touched it, since it's definitely a biohazard." 

That does not sound hopeful for Samora getting her sword back, which, well, it was a long shot either way. "How about a shield, was there one of those? She's asking for her stuff back." 

     Emma flings her arms in the air. "Fraser, what the hell, I cannot believe that's your priority here." 

"I mean, I can't blame her, it's got to be really expensive. ...Or a family heirloom, or maybe she made it in, like, one of those Ren Faire places. Either way it'd be special, right?" 

     Emma looks very, very tired. "Fine. Whatever. It might also be a biohazard but so's her entire room so whatever. Call the ER, I think it's still there." 

Great! Fraser is going to sit down at the desk outside room 104 and do that. 

Meanwhile, at the nursing station, one of the on-call residents is peering curiously at a piece of paper. "Huh, that's a sick alignment chart, cool."

     Lisa glances over absently. "A what? ...I need an order for stool softeners for 105, by the way." 

"Sure, colace once a day. - It's a tabletop thing."

     "Can we do Miralax actually? - and yeah I saw it's on the table, that doesn't help." 

"Tabletop gaming!" This is the voice of someone who is delighted to have an opportunity to explain. "Like, Dungeons and Dragons. Your character can be Lawful or Chaotic and Good or Evil - or neutral, that's the middle ones - so you end up with a three-by-three grid like this."

     "Ohhhh. Like the sandwich meme!" 

"I can't believe how many people know the sandwich meme and don't know it's from D&D! Whose is this, it looks like they're planning a game -" 

     Shrug. "I think it's there from day shift." 

One of the other residents comes over. "Amir, where in the world do you find time to play D&D?" 

     "I don't much but if someone's planning a game I want to hear about it! - did you see 109's labs, I'm trying to decide if he can tolerate a dose of Lasix -"

Lisa is now fiddling with the paper. "Sorry, now I'm curious, can you explain why it's got all the little drawings?" 

     "I think it's keeping track of all the players' characters and the monsters they're going to fight - and allies, maybe, that's a lot of Lawful Good characters - anyway yeah in high school I played a barbarian who was illiterate and my character sheet was all drawings -" 

Fraser is just getting off the phone with Pathology after sweet-talking them into uploading a photo of the sword to Samora's chart, which seems like a much easier way to convey to Samora that they have it and it's safe (and also she can't have it back yet because it's a slimy biohazard) than trying to solve this problem by drawing. He makes a mental note that apparently someone can draw and he should ask Dr Chadha if he needs a high quality drawing of something later. 

(He wonders briefly if Marian is the day shifter responsible for the artifact currently delighting Dr Chadha. ...Probably not, she seems like the sort of person who would be into tabletop gaming if she had, like, hobbies, but as far as he's aware she doesn't so much have hobbies unless "calling the unit at 6 am asking if they need her for overtime" counts, and also it would be pretty weird to plan a D&D campaign in a city you're only in for three to six months.) 

How does Samora look? 

Samora has been praying; she has most of a page of notes in cramped Taldane curving around the pictures of Tris and Marshall.

What does she know about her current situation?

        With certainty? Not much. But she believes herself to be Greater Teleport distance from Otari, separated from her party but among well-meaning people with surprisingly sophisticated nonmagical healing and limited access to divine healing. She is ill but probably not incurably so; it might be catching.

What would she have done differently earlier, knowing what she knows now?

        The main thing she knows now and didn't previously is that she's not among enemies; the secondary thing is that she might spread disease. She would have communicated several things more quickly, including asking about her party and her belongings but also including warning Marian that she was ill as soon as she realized it herself. If she wasn't ill, she would say she should have offered to Stabilize any dying people present once she realized there might be some, but since they want to quarantine her that's a moot point.

What changes to her way of doing things should she make going forward?

        Be less quick to assume hostile intent? No, that's too general. Be aware that weird things done to her body might not be hostile? Yes, but also too specific. She should prioritize getting oriented more highly whenever she ends up in a deeply surprising situation. (She spends a while contemplating this, imagining herself in various situations and how she might go about getting oriented to them, thinking about how to decide when a situation is too urgent to spend time orienting and when orienting is worth it even in the face of apparent urgency.)

What are her current priorities and plans?

        The obvious first option is: focus on reuniting with her party, getting back to Otari, and stopping Belcorra as fast as possible. They have an unknown but limited amount of time; that hasn't changed. How fast she can get back depends a lot on how she got here; maybe whoever brought her here wants something in particular and will bring her back once she's done it, or maybe she'll need to ask Iomedae for one Plane Shift instead of a full day worth of spells and attempt to get home via Heaven.

        The other option is to spend more than a day or two learning what this place and its people can teach her, and what she can teach them. Depending on why they don't have enough priests, it might be a good idea or a terrible one for her to attempt to start a church of Iomedae here. (The prospect is very daunting, but she can acknowledge that it would be better for the answer to be that it's a good idea.) Depending on how easy their nonmagical healing is to learn, and how effective it is at diseases, it might be a good idea to learn what she can of it while she's here and bring that knowledge back to Avistan.

        She'll be able to fill in a lot of the key unknowns tomorrow; the big one she won't be able to get new information on is what will happen if she takes too long getting back to Otari. Will Tris and Marshall get help from the Dawnfishers and solve everything without her? Will they die? Will Belcorra wreak havoc on Otari? It seems highly unlikely that she'll be able to wreak havoc on Absalom itself, and if the city's wizards can't stop her, Samora's party didn't have a chance anyway. So the questions are: How likely is her prolonged absence to result in disaster for her friends or the town? How much is there to be gained by staying here? Is the potential benefit worth the risk? The latter isn't purely a straightforward comparison of benefits to costs; there's also the matter of duty. People should be able to expect her to finish a job once she starts it and not run off as soon as a better opportunity presents itself. She'll be able to talk the matter over with Marshall and Tris, at least a bit, but at twenty-five words per fourth-circle spell slot she had better have as much of her thinking done beforehand as possible.

Fraser, of course, can't perceive most of that. She's notetaking contemplatively and has leaked a bunch more horrible goo.

The horrible goo would be about 5000% more concerning if she looked particularly ill! It's honestly deeply confusing that everything else seems to be improving, but it undeniably is and Fraser isn't going to complain. 

He's going to gown up and go in with a computer-on-wheels, which he's decided is just going to Be His for the rest of the night. He wants to check her temperature, since they no longer have a continuous temp probe - hopefully he can show her the thermometer and mime where to put it? - and then he'll pull up the image of the sword to show her, and try to convey via gestures that it's somewhere over there and it's safe but she can't have it back due to the slime?

The shield he thinks she can have back when someone over in the ER gets around to hauling it over; he can point at the drawing of it and then point in the direction of the ER and mime someone walking and carrying something heavy? 

Stick goes in her mouth, okay. Her fever is back at 100.6.

They found her sword and shield! That's great! They want to do something with the sword? What would they want to do with it? Oh, he probably means they're cleaning it, because it's covered in drekavac guts. That's very thoughtful of them and she smiles appreciatively.

. . . and then looks uneasy and mimes retching into a bucket.

Fraser had been hoping to try to ask her what she stuck her sword in - she drew a wolf earlier but he’s not sure that was about the same thing and wolves aren’t, or at least shouldn’t be, full of weird slime instead of blood - but he’s not sure he can convey the question in mime without drawing anything, and also it looks like it’s perhaps not a good time? He can get her one of the hospital barf bags from a drawer.

Yes good thank you she will be holding onto this very diligently.

Fraser isn’t delighted about her temp being up again, though it’s probably mostly that the Tylenol is wearing off, she’s getting close to due for another dose.

It’s a little concerning that she’s suddenly having nausea after not having complained of that at all before, but she did mess up her gut pretty badly, on top of the horrible slime peritonitis, it’s not surprising. …He doesn’t have any PRN orders for nausea because Dr Harrison doesn’t use the admission standing orders and never puts in PRNs unless you ask him. Fraser is going to stay in the room, in case this is the first sign of something about to get rapidly worse, but he’ll flag down Lisa as soon as she’s back in Pod Two and relay a request. In the meantime she can have a cold washcloth on the back of her neck if she wants? That helps for some people.

Samora's usual response to nausea is to finish killing whatever is causing it and then vomit; a cold washcloth is less satisfying but much more comfortable. After a few minutes she vomits a small quantity of mixed bile and horrible slime neatly into the barf bag, spits several times, and then looks notably relieved. And unsure what she should do with the bag now.

It's moderately concerning that the horrible slime is apparently growing her GI tract as well as outside it!

Fraser is absolutely not going to look worried where Samora can see it, though. He’ll put some water in one of the little plastic pill cups and offer it to her to rinse her mouth, because that has got to taste utterly vile, and then pull out an empty biohazard trash bag and hold it open so she can drop the barf bag in without him touching it. 

He also gives her several more clean bags to keep in the bedside table in reach, since if the rate of slime production from her incision is anything to go by, it seems pretty likely there’s going to be more later.

(Presumably she had a gastric tube to suction when she came back to the OR and it was a casualty of her tube-yanking-out session that Marian didn’t find important enough to mention. He would consider getting an order to replace it, but that would require explaining it to her and getting her on board with it, which sounds difficult.)

Does Samora seem like she needs anything else before he de-iso-gowns and ducks out to update Dr Harrison or at least one of the residents on the situation? Also there’s still no sign of Lisa so he’ll bother them directly to get an order for Zofran or something, and then keep it in reserve for if and when she gets nauseated again.

She'll be alright for now. (Her mouth still tastes like a demon's latrine, but rinsing it out helped a lot.)

He degowns very carefully and washes his hands so so thoroughly and goes looking for someone on the medical team. ...Dr Chadha is at the nursing station, good, he's the one who's good at drawing and if he wants to do any interventions he can explain them. 

"Hey - you know the girl in 104, right?" 

     Dr Chadha looks deeply unhappy. "What is it?" 

"She just puked some slime. - honestly she's doing better apart from that? The mystery hypoglycemia mysteriously fixed itself right at shift change, heart rate’s normalizing and she's off pressors. Just feverish and oozing unbelievable quantities of slime.” Shrug. “Could use a PRN for Zofran, I haven’t got anything. Might be a good idea to drop an NG in her if you’re up for explaining it to her in pictograms, I heard you can draw. …I’m guessing it’s not worth another scan given the enormous hassle but is there anything we should do?”

     “- Um. When’s our last CBC, should maybe repeat it and check if her white count is spiking…?”

“Last one was at fourish, I think? Moderately elevated but not crazy. I’ll do another.” That one he can pull from the central line and not have to stick her. “And can do a lactate?” He actually expects it’s probably normal, but it would be informative if it’s not and she is in fact headed toward sepsis and just not showing it at all for some reason.

     “Yeah. Sounds good, let’s do that.” Dr Chadka mostly looks very tired. “And, uh, I guess let me know about the NG.”

“Will do. - do we have any idea if the antibiotics she’s on work on this crap? The lab should let us know at some point, right - it’d be great if that were tonight…”

He goes to put orders in, obtains a vial of Zofran so he’ll have it in the room if he’s trapped in there and needs it, and then re-dons all of his protective gear to go in and do bloodwork from the central line. How does Samora look? 

She hasn't puked again. She's drawn a line with three little icons of the sun on the horizon, with little arrows pointing up-down-up to indicate dawn-dusk-dawn, and would like Fraser to point at a spot on the line.

Oh right she's got one of the interior-facing rooms that doesn't have a window to outside, and she probably has no way of knowing how long she was out after surgery. Super reasonable to want to have annnny idea what time it is in the outside world! It's now coming up toward 9 pm, so about 10 hours to go until shift change, which coincidentally in late February is also about when the actual sun is up too. He points to the down-arrow sunset sun icon, and then moves his finger a little further along into the "night". Does this seem to answer Samora's question? 

(Also, does she object to him drawing blood from the central line? Marian presumably did it lots of times and hopefully it's already been explained and he doesn't have to go over all that again?)

She understands that answer and he can have some blood. She'd love to know what they keep doing with it but the simple answer is probably "learn more about how sick she is" and the complicated answer is probably something she's never thought of before and difficult to explain in pictures. And she's worried she'll get nauseous again if she does too much sitting up to draw and then lying back down.

They are indeed trying to learn more about how sick she is, and the complicated answer is indeed complicated! 

...Ugh he forgot to grab more IV Tylenol at the same time and Samora is close enough to due for it that he'd rather get that going now rather than have to exit and re-enter the room again later. He manages to flag down Lisa with that request, and maybe she can also hold out a clean sample bag so he can drop his blood sample tubes into it (and the outside of the bag technically won't be contaminated when it goes through the pneumatic tube.) Presumably the lab already knows that this patient's samples need to be treated with Extra Caution. 

And then he realllly needs to empty the extremely slime-filled surgical drains, an operation which is both disgusting and nervewracking; he dons a mask and faceshield for it in case of splashes, and puts the slime into an unused suction canister which at least has a top that seals. He'll incidentally check to see if slime is coming out the ileostomy end as well? 

Yup, there's some there too. Poor Fraser. She shows him the picture of her healing herself and then other people after dawn in an attempt to convey that he doesn't need to do this if he doesn't want to take the risk.

What the heck is Samora trying to convey with that picture? That she can do faith healing?? But only when the sun is up, possibly because she worships the sun in addition to her sword??? Or maybe some additional Harry Potter curse that wears off the next time the sun rises? 

(This are all batshit theories, obviously, but Fraser cannot manage to think of a non-batshit interpretation of that picture.) 

...Anyway he's still going to empty the drains, it's not like it would be less gross to let them get so full they start leaking all over the bed. At least this way the stuff is slightly more contained. And then he'll shed his gear again and scrub his hands and sit outside refreshing the chart for labs, and of course keeping an eye on Samora in case she starts looking worse or tries to get his attention for anything. 

Fraser seemed like he really didn't understand that picture. Maybe he couldn't tell what it was a picture of, or maybe it was a picture of something he didn't understand. Has Arcadia been without divine healing long enough that they don't know what it is? And how could that happen? Any given god not being known in any given country makes sense, but why would there be somewhere all the gods ignored?

. . . What if there's something here preventing any gods from granting spells. Then all her claims of being able to heal people would be false, and she wouldn't be able to heal herself, and she would have much less ability to trade for knowledge or a heavenly tuning fork or a Greater Teleport home.

She shouldn't panic. Even if she's right about why Fraser didn't understand the picture, and even if it means she won't be able to get spells either, it's not guaranteed that the effect covers this entire continent. She might be able to get somewhere divine magic works normally and work on getting home from there, even if she can't get all the way home without magic. It'll involve a lot of communicating in pictograms and working as a caravan guard or something, but she has skills that aren't magic and it's a rare situation that offers no options.

The labs come back...pretty reasonable. Hemoglobin stable; WBC up to 19, which is high but, like, about what you'd expect for a previously-healthy young person mounting a strong immune response to an infection, and not particularly indicative that she's hours away from going into septic shock. Fraser considers telling Samora this and considers how he could communicate this and then shrugs and gives up. He'll just go update the resident. 

There's a piece of paper on the nursing station desk with a grid and a bunch of weird sketches of things or symbols drawn in the various boxes of the grid.