Isaac stops himself from specifying exactly who will find whose family.

"Kindling, one way or another."

If they're to be trees. Emmrich has the rapport, and he ought to leave them at it, but the day has him on fucking edge. This place is a horror show. Why want a thing like it? But if the Tirashan is ancient, it's still Orlesian; and the answer's written red.

"Your lord?" Not the Dread Wolf. And not Levathanir, buried under the Necropolis like Bluebeard's bride (as ready to rip a veil): "Solas sacrificed another's follower?"

Talin had spoken of blood. It occurs that this bizarre, prolonged execution might qualify.