He swallowed hard and began to fidget. For the most part, Viatorus was an optimist, but the sights of the aftermath of that fight were burned firmly into his mind. Wiping his hands down the front of his shirt, he tried not to sound as sick with worry as he suddenly was.

"Have you-?" He paused to swallow, to breathe. His voice was quiet, breathless. "H-Have you asked the people wh-who were-were rescuing p-people?" He goes even quieter, almost whispering. "Wh-Who were burying them?"