Under the shade of canvas, the Kroridian heat is much more bearable.
The number of men inside of your hospitals has drastically decreased since the Battle of the Atiming River. Many recovered. Many more simply succumbed to their injuries, or to the dangerous conditions of the march.
You scan the interior for Darin. The two of you spot each other at the same time. He gestures for you to approach him.
You brush past surgeons and patients, muttering apologies as you do so. Darin is sitting in the corner of the tent at a small desk and chair. Empty bottles of ink are stacked off to one side. Parchment is sprawled across the desk.
He says, "Hey, lad. How nice of ya to visit me, in between being showered with awards and praise."