The fire exploded in a shower of sparks as Martin threw another wet branch into the middle of the blazing flames. For a moment he simply sat back and watched as the log sizzled and popped, the water boiling inside the branch before burning away. It was good to be back on dry land again, especially after so long at sea. He'd always hated the oceans and to feel solid ground under himself once more made him much more relaxed. Not throwing up every ten minutes helped too.
Turning his gaze away from the flames Martin let his vision slowly adapt to the gathering darkness. It was too late to set out tonight, the Siren's Call II had run into a Cetus while crossing the Waking Sea, which had delayed them for almost half a day. Even now, if he strained his hearing, the sound of sawing woods and nails being hammered told Martin that repairs were still underway, although at this point they were mostly only decorative details that needed replacing. Or at least what he thought of as decorative features, while the sailors maintained they were vital to the operation of the ship.
Around the fire the rest of the gathered Company sat warming themselves, several of them finishing off the dinner which had been provided from the Siren's provisions. Taking his time Martin let them eat, uncertain when they may get another chance to eat so well. Reaching into the pouch hanging from his waist Martin quickly packed his pipe before lighting it with one of the dwarven matches fashioned for him by their resident crafter Henrietta. Drawing the smoke into his lungs Martin let himself enjoy the flavour for a few minutes before finally rousing his party.
"The time has come to make a decision," he pronounced, "The lands south are done with us it seems, for now at least, and it's time we forged a new path." Producing a map provided by their pirate queen hostess, whose price Martin had found to be very favourable, if a little energetic for his aging bones, the old war horse lay it down on the sand, bracing the corners with rocks as he pulled his dagger from his belt.
"To the north lies Nevarra," he explained as he pointed out the capital city with the tip of his blade, knowing some of those in the Company had barely traversed Orlais, let alone the rest of Thedas, "A land of knights, honour and worshippers of the dead. Beyond that is the Tevinter Imperium, filled with power mad mages, blood magic and all manner of evils, or at least that's what the Chantry would have us believe. Personally I have a fondness for their blended liquors, so they can't be all bad."
Moving his dagger over Martin pointed to the Free Marches, waving the point over the whole region before descending on Kirkwall. "To the east of us lie the squabbling kingdoms and 'free cities' of the Marches, which are at the moment as much at war with each other as they are anyone else. And as the old mercenary tale tells us, where there's war, there's profit to be had.
"Further out is Antiva, a rich and prosperous land, filled with intrigues and assassins, with plenty of easy work to be had protecting bankers and their money from killing each each other. The work there may be in the lap of luxury, but the Crows will make sure you pay for every grape with blood and sweat."
Swinging the dagger the other way, Martin waved it vaguely over a portion of the map, before moving it north. "To the west we have Orlais, with their masks, hidden smiles and 'Games'. All high class intrigues and pointlessly complicated rules for etiquette." Turning his head Martin spat out a glob of phlegm, which hiss and popped as it burnt away in the fire. "Give me a straight fight over that any time.
"Heading north from there are the Anderfels, filled with ancient thaigs brimming with ancient treasures, ancient darkspawn and Grey Wardens. They claim that the King of the Anders rules there, but everyone knows the Wardens are the true power."
Sitting back, placing his pipe between his teeth once more Martin gazed around at the Company, watching each of them carefully as they weighed up their options. "Well? Which way should we go? Where do you think we'll find the best work?"
Turning his gaze away from the flames Martin let his vision slowly adapt to the gathering darkness. It was too late to set out tonight, the Siren's Call II had run into a Cetus while crossing the Waking Sea, which had delayed them for almost half a day. Even now, if he strained his hearing, the sound of sawing woods and nails being hammered told Martin that repairs were still underway, although at this point they were mostly only decorative details that needed replacing. Or at least what he thought of as decorative features, while the sailors maintained they were vital to the operation of the ship.
Around the fire the rest of the gathered Company sat warming themselves, several of them finishing off the dinner which had been provided from the Siren's provisions. Taking his time Martin let them eat, uncertain when they may get another chance to eat so well. Reaching into the pouch hanging from his waist Martin quickly packed his pipe before lighting it with one of the dwarven matches fashioned for him by their resident crafter Henrietta. Drawing the smoke into his lungs Martin let himself enjoy the flavour for a few minutes before finally rousing his party.
"The time has come to make a decision," he pronounced, "The lands south are done with us it seems, for now at least, and it's time we forged a new path." Producing a map provided by their pirate queen hostess, whose price Martin had found to be very favourable, if a little energetic for his aging bones, the old war horse lay it down on the sand, bracing the corners with rocks as he pulled his dagger from his belt.
"To the north lies Nevarra," he explained as he pointed out the capital city with the tip of his blade, knowing some of those in the Company had barely traversed Orlais, let alone the rest of Thedas, "A land of knights, honour and worshippers of the dead. Beyond that is the Tevinter Imperium, filled with power mad mages, blood magic and all manner of evils, or at least that's what the Chantry would have us believe. Personally I have a fondness for their blended liquors, so they can't be all bad."
Moving his dagger over Martin pointed to the Free Marches, waving the point over the whole region before descending on Kirkwall. "To the east of us lie the squabbling kingdoms and 'free cities' of the Marches, which are at the moment as much at war with each other as they are anyone else. And as the old mercenary tale tells us, where there's war, there's profit to be had.
"Further out is Antiva, a rich and prosperous land, filled with intrigues and assassins, with plenty of easy work to be had protecting bankers and their money from killing each each other. The work there may be in the lap of luxury, but the Crows will make sure you pay for every grape with blood and sweat."
Swinging the dagger the other way, Martin waved it vaguely over a portion of the map, before moving it north. "To the west we have Orlais, with their masks, hidden smiles and 'Games'. All high class intrigues and pointlessly complicated rules for etiquette." Turning his head Martin spat out a glob of phlegm, which hiss and popped as it burnt away in the fire. "Give me a straight fight over that any time.
"Heading north from there are the Anderfels, filled with ancient thaigs brimming with ancient treasures, ancient darkspawn and Grey Wardens. They claim that the King of the Anders rules there, but everyone knows the Wardens are the true power."
Sitting back, placing his pipe between his teeth once more Martin gazed around at the Company, watching each of them carefully as they weighed up their options. "Well? Which way should we go? Where do you think we'll find the best work?"
