It's his turn on cooking duty. It could be worse, of course, when you're on the road so much you learn to be a half-decent cook just to keep everyone from getting sick in the Deep Roads, but a gourmet chef he is not.
There's a dead gurn not too far off, and hopefully someone helped him dig a pit in the ground, clear out debris and pile in some rocks so they could get some of the meat cooking underground for them to keep for the upcoming days. It's a bloody great thing, of course, they can't cook the whole thing (and they wouldn't want to, it's not like it's delicious meat) but there's no good reason not to take advantage of the kill.
Whatever isn't already cooking in the pit is being hacked up to get chucked into a stew, Herc frowning a little as he cuts through the flesh and chops it up a little smaller, trying to hack away the gristle as best he can. It's not like they can always be fussy, but it's a huge animal.
From time to time he flicks a bit of fat and gristle to Max, who wuffs quietly, slobbering up the pieces of meat in between gnawing on a giant bone from the thing.
DORIAN. He's been making the rounds, handing out a bowls of a stew. The stew itself is nothing special, meat carved off a gurn carcass, but at least its not dried meat again.
"Here," he says, holding out the battered wooden bowl and a slightly warped spoon.
Not the kinda fine bone china and silver he reckons Dorian and most other noble types'd be used to, but it's not like the Inquisition is dining off the fancy stuff, either, and he's not about to give a guy a hard time when he was prepared to come out this way with them. Not everyone'd be ready to come charging out to the Western Approach, let alone to help out Wardens, and definitely not Wardens in the Western Approach who just lugged about Anders, of all people.
Herc's smile is almost a bit apologetic, actually. Friendliness couldn't make up for a potentially broken tooth once Dorian was done with this. "Don't get your hopes up. There's a reason gurn's are known for leather."
Other than that it doesn't look too bad, herbs and some potato and carrots. Nothing special, mind, but not the worst fare they could've slung together on the road.
pre-capture Herc Hangouts
It's his turn on cooking duty. It could be worse, of course, when you're on the road so much you learn to be a half-decent cook just to keep everyone from getting sick in the Deep Roads, but a gourmet chef he is not.
There's a dead gurn not too far off, and hopefully someone helped him dig a pit in the ground, clear out debris and pile in some rocks so they could get some of the meat cooking underground for them to keep for the upcoming days. It's a bloody great thing, of course, they can't cook the whole thing (and they wouldn't want to, it's not like it's delicious meat) but there's no good reason not to take advantage of the kill.
Whatever isn't already cooking in the pit is being hacked up to get chucked into a stew, Herc frowning a little as he cuts through the flesh and chops it up a little smaller, trying to hack away the gristle as best he can. It's not like they can always be fussy, but it's a huge animal.
From time to time he flicks a bit of fat and gristle to Max, who wuffs quietly, slobbering up the pieces of meat in between gnawing on a giant bone from the thing.
DORIAN.
He's been making the rounds, handing out a bowls of a stew. The stew itself is nothing special, meat carved off a gurn carcass, but at least its not dried meat again.
"Here," he says, holding out the battered wooden bowl and a slightly warped spoon.
Not the kinda fine bone china and silver he reckons Dorian and most other noble types'd be used to, but it's not like the Inquisition is dining off the fancy stuff, either, and he's not about to give a guy a hard time when he was prepared to come out this way with them. Not everyone'd be ready to come charging out to the Western Approach, let alone to help out Wardens, and definitely not Wardens in the Western Approach who just lugged about Anders, of all people.
Herc's smile is almost a bit apologetic, actually. Friendliness couldn't make up for a potentially broken tooth once Dorian was done with this. "Don't get your hopes up. There's a reason gurn's are known for leather."
Other than that it doesn't look too bad, herbs and some potato and carrots. Nothing special, mind, but not the worst fare they could've slung together on the road.