Fords of Isen to Gapholt

True enough, Marton was afire. Seemed like a serious raid had happened and it were clear to me I couldn't be of help, there weren't a soul to be seen other than fat wargs prowlin' about. I stayed north of the town and hugged the cliffs until I seen the winding path up to the Stonedeans. I found a few locals and told 'em the news of what I'd seen. Forewarned is forearmed I reckon. I shared a beer or two with my new friends, and got ready to head on.