<div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;">Brynn shrugged at Finny's disapproval. At this point, the northerner didn't really care. She no longer has to worry about her reputation or authority, with a dragon roaming about, we were all equals now. All of us are prey. She got Ragnar to focus on what should be his priority, that's all that matters.</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Upon following the group into the tent with the Grand Cleric, Brynn strayed towards the edge of the group, at a point where she could easily see everyone within the tent. She remained standing, refusing a seat as she attentively listened in to the conversation between Finny and the Cleric, her arms crossed with a subtle annoyance. Naturally, she was uncomfortable being inside the tent with so many unfamiliar faces. Gods, why didn't she request a tour of the basic structure of the city when she was new. Now, she couldn't even point out a single face that is remotely familiar.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">"Then we get an army," Brynn stated abruptly in her normal monotonous and careless voice. "Surely I'm not the only one with some contacts." She added, her hazel eyes narrowing at Dasyra.</div>