"Seems about right," he murmurs, and despite himself Krem's gaze snaps back over to the remains that they found. He's no stranger to death, hasn't been in many years, but this still seems very sad somehow. More-so than usual, oddly, maybe it's the mood of the island itself. There was no battle after all, nobody stole anything from him and left him to die, by all accounts it was just an old—...man? woman? they don't know, actually, and it's not possible to tell from what's left—passing away in their own house, surrounded by the creepy things they chose to decorate it with.

But it does seem profoundly lonely. As far as he can tell, nobody even knew the person's name.

Poor bastard probably had to pick spiders out of their food and smallclothes every single day, for however many years the place had been like this. Why didn't they just leave, Krem wonders? Not that it matters anymore.

"Think we should burn him?" Aside from the Nevarrans, it's rare for people in Thedas to leave their dead in-tact in any way. For very practical reasons. The Viscount hadn't made any request for the remains or anything, so it would likely be unwelcome for them to sail back with bones in tow, but it feels a little wrong to just leave the body there.