<div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;">Ragnar lingered towards the front of the group of couriers as they headed to the office to receive their orders and more information on the latest contract. As he entered the room, the sight of another courier already in the room caught the attention of his cobalt eyes. He recognized the female as Brynn, one of the newer recruits of The Seeking Owl. She was leaned back, her leg prompted up against the wall with her arms folded just below her chest. He could tell she was conversing with the half-orc prior, falling silent as the first of the group entered. </span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;">Ragnar shrugged his broad shoulders dismissively, it didn't matter much to him. He continued to listen to Kerrek as he spoke, the name of the destination peaked his interest. Vadosa, eh? He thought with his signature dim-witted smirk. Great, a week long trip with bandits casing the roads? Couldn't much better in Ragnar's eyes. He would never dismiss a chance to cave a few skulls in.</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;">Once the briefing was over, the two dozen or so couriers began to file out, Ragnar trailing behind them. The female remained, to continue the conversation, he assumed, for she was already equipped with light armour, her bronze sword hanging at her waist.</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;">He returned to the office after he geared up in steel heavy armour and a dark blue cloak that ran from his shoulders all the way down to the ground. The hilt of his broadsword, <span style="font-style: italic">Isenfier</span>, loomed over his head, the length of the blade was too long to be carried at the waist. The finely forged blade was steel, reinforced with carbon. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stood motionlessly at the back of the room, the only movement from the brute was either the impatient tapping of his foot or the rhythmic rise and fall of his burly chest, matching the flow of his breathing.</span></div>