Aye, eaten. [Skadi repeats that calmly, easily.] It's one more reason the lowlanders dismiss us as heathens, call our ways blasphemous. But we feel that the Lady is owed her due, and that's how it's given. When lowlanders think of burial, they think of earth or fire...mostly fire. For us, air is the element that feels right.

[That her body will one day be given to the birds and her soul to the Lady is a very comforting thought, one that she quietly worries will not come to pass if she falls in battle among the Inquisition. Will the others honor her ways?]

Our thane is the leader of our hold, the arbiter of disputes, the one who negotiates on our behalf. They guide the gods in deciding who is worthy and decide which test will settle the dispute. [Her lips quirk in a wry smile.] If they die from it, then yes, that could show the Lady's -or Korth's or Hakkon's- disfavor with them. We live our lives according to the signs the gods have given us; if we lose the favor of one or more, they make that known. The Frostbacks is no place for the weak or the foolish, or those who don't pay them the respect they're due.

[Letting that sink in, she then gives in to her own curiosity, switching the subject back.] Why are the Dunmer so cursed? What part do they have in all this?