"Oughta do something," Whatever Ferelden does. Burn it in sod, dump it in a bog, cross your heart and curse out an Orlesian. "Or she's not proper dead."

Seen a lot of people die, helped more than a few. You kill someone, you know they're dead. Simple as sky. But tell him tomorrow that his brother lost a head, and man's still alive until he sees the stump; says the words. Some things the heart learns slow.

(Most folks are slower than Lazar.)