It's the tears of deshyrs who know that the surface dwarves are infinitely more successful than they'll ever be but who can never admit it, great for the skin, keeps his hair the envy of Orlesian debutantes across the empire. Expensive stuff but the Carta finds a way. Tricky to apply it, tends to try running screaming at the mere suggestion of a surfacer who doesn't miss or care for Orzammar or the Stone.

"Kirkwall's old bones. All of Kirkwall's bones. I reckon it's why it looks like it does, I mean, you start in one bit and the bottom and when it got too full of bodies and the smell was bad they built over it and then that bit went the same way then they did that again. Maybe they'll have a High-Hightown?" Just his working theory but he's been so many places through the tunnels and passages that make up the labyrinth that is the city state that he's used to it. It's only what they might have on them that's the surprise.

Looking up at Christine, he tips his head to the side. Considers the question. The possibilities. "I'm taking them away, I was going to make a tasteful memorial. What is it with the burning, how do you all know they want to be burned anyway? Most of this place was on fire, s'what I've been told by the family."