The bodies of the dead didn't escape Oberyn's glance, and he looks down to them. "That I am. I died avenging my lovely sister and daughter. As for them?" The tone in his voice is somber, as Oberyn looks at the bodies on the ground. "What will be done to honor those who recently fell?"

Somehow, he figures that having a fine feast to honor those lost would be in poor taste. A massacre is far different than a lone man who was defeated in battle. And war is something the young prince knows well enough.

"If I knew of the people here, I would have recommended something to honor them. Do they have family here?"