Your name is Chyk. You are a kobold nurse at Larion General Hospital. You heal and treat patients who are in your care. The hospital serves many patients of all species and inclinations, but most are adventurers who have been diseased, injured, or cursed in the line of duty.

One of your patients is a female paladin. She claims to be cursed by an item that causes crude rumors to spread about her. You hear she has strange relations with livestock, so it might be some other kind of psychosis instead. Another patient of yours is an orc barbarian who had his hand bitten off by a mimic. Physically, he's recovering well, but he seems to be mentally struggling with his condition. A third patient is an elf wizard with a severe case of mummy rot. You need to change her bandages daily and take special care not to become infected yourself. There's also a halfling who isn't sick, but seems to sneak into the hospital every night. You think he's secretly planning on killing and eating you.

As you begin your shift, you make the rounds and check the vitals of each of your patients. You start with the paladin.

"Good morning, miss Weiss," you say calmly. "How are you today?"

"Fine," she says curtly, as you attach the cuff to her arm and take her blood pressure reading.

"Blood pressure is a bit high," you remark. "Are you sure you're doing fine?"

"Of course not! I'll be 'fine' when your doctors break this curse that's on me!"

"Compulsively sacrificing children isn't a curse our doctors can treat," you chide, breaking from your usually understanding bedside manner.

"That's not—" she begins before quieting herself. "Please, just let me know when the doctor is in."

You smile and nod as you go to your next patient.

"How are you this morning, Grok?" you say, taking his temperature.

"Grok sad," the huge orc laments. "Miss hand. Right hand do all Grok's favorite things."

"Well, we have a transplant coming in a few days," you say. "You just need to wait."

"Won't be the same," he sniffles.