Lord Cassani walked toward the brightly lit prisoner compound at the edge of the camp, "escorted" by two Bagnian soldiers.
A new smell masked the heavy stench of blood and sweat in the air... the scent of disinfectant and burning charcoal. The strange combination eased Cassani's taut nerves a little.
The sight of the Prisoner-of-War Camp far exceeded his expectations. Prince Chris had actually assigned people to look after the Raitelian prisoners.
There was none of the chaos and incessant wailing Cassani had expected.
Instead, everything was orderly. Huge bonfires drove away the night's chill and illuminated the compound.
Most striking were several makeshift shelters erected from waterproof canvas. Figures moved inside, and he could faintly hear stifled groans and calm instructions.
"There are more people over here."
The soldier guiding him spoke flatly, pointing at one of the shelters.
Cassani hurried over and lifted the coarse cloth curtain. A stronger smell of medicine mingled with blood hit him in the face. He froze once he stepped inside.
Several lanterns burned within the shelter. Their light was dim, but enough to see by. Wounded Raitelian soldiers filled row after row of makeshift stretchers and beds of hay laid on the ground.
Their uniforms were torn and caked with blood and mud, but their wounds had all been cleaned and wrapped in clean linen bandages, coarse but clearly brand-new.
Several people wearing green military uniforms with strips of white cloth pinned to their arms moved among the wounded. They were clearly Bagnian medics. These respected individuals crouched on the ground, deftly rebandaging a soldier's bleeding leg wound, while others handed out bread and clean water nearby.
These were all NPC medics trained by players. There were too many wounded on their own side tonight, and the doctor players had no time