Cullen dumps his armload into the ever-growing stack of firewood, brushes off his hands, and approaches, smiling. "I'm no fan of sea travel myself. That was just a quick jaunt across the harbor. We weren't out in the Waking Sea." His trip from Highever to Kirkwall had been pure misery.

He slaps idly at a small cloud of gnats trying to congregate at the back of his neck and wrinkles his nose. "I had hoped the wind today would spare us these. I suppose we're too sheltered by the rocks and shrubbery." It also means they're sheltered from view of raiders. Everything comes with a price.

"Coming along on the night march? A few of us are going to scout once the sun is down, see what's to be seen. They're never as careful with fires as they should be. They get arrogant."