<div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;">Both Ragnar and Brynn were thankful as the time to set of camp quickly approached. Due to Ragnar's posture, Brynn noticed he was one to enjoy a good bandit ambush by the way he held up head up and his shoulders squared. She couldn't deny that she did either so a day with no incidents were a mundane and agonizing long day for the both of them. Ragnar spent most of the evening hauling equipment off of the wagon with a few of the other labours. It was a common thing for him to do, offer help to keep his restless self busy.</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">While he was doing that, Brynn was taking care of her horse, Alsvior, before she tied her horse's reins to a tree with the other horses. She went and sat down, sharpening her bronze sword with a stone. She lifted her head as Vesper approached, asking about the Lord. Her focus was immediately redirected to Varn as he stood over the half-elf.</div><br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">"Varn." Brynn called out, her voice firm and traced with a growl. "You best watch your tongue, it's leading you to an unpleasant path." Normally, Brynn would never stick up for someone like that, certainly not someone she only knew for a day but her actions were more focused on the events at Kerrek's office. By the gods, she hated Varn.</div>