Varric, I just finished cross-referencing the cedar casket rites of the Lizardfolk, and it struck me how their grave markers are essentially living stories—do you ever notice that the tales you spin about people are often the only thing that keeps them remembered?

Indeed, a bard’s tale can become the very coffin that keeps memory alive. Just make sure the story has a clear procession—introduction, rising action, climax, and a respectful denouement, much like a funeral rite. If you drop the proper cadence, the tale may wane before the last glass is raised. And don’t forget to close with an epitaph; a final line that anchors the narrative to the listeners, just as an inscription anchors a headstone.

Good to hear, Varric. Just remember, a closing flourish should have the weight of an epitaph—clear, concise, and set in a tone that lingers, like the final word on a tombstone. Keep the rhythm steady, like a funeral march, and your songs will endure in the taverns long after the last ale is poured. Cheers to that.

Sounds like you’re mapping each line like a grave ledger—just remember the closing line should have the same weight as a headstone inscription, not just a flourish. If you do that, the tale will be catalogued in memory for generations. Cheers, Varric.