True enough, Marton was afire. 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.