The ground around the camp was littered with corpses and charred bones, and the steaming mist was coming from the Bay to the west, covering everything in a soft, thin veil. Denys hawkishly looked over them, but, thankfully, none moved. He squinted his eyes and saw a group slowly approach from the western wall. As they approached, he could finally make out the details in the mist; all of them looked even more battered and tired than his own men.