You either love it or hate it

Zevran, a man always ready for a skirmish, couldn't help but wear his disappointment clearly on his face when the bandits hastily retreated at the sight of him, Revas, Megara, and Zoltan. With his adrenaline pumping and his body primed for the thrill of battle, he was somewhat deflated by the abrupt anticlimax.

He was confident, however, that this wouldn't be the last they'd see of the cowardly bandits. Despite the immediate letdown, he clung to the anticipation of another inevitable confrontation, turning his momentary disappointment into renewed determination. When Zoltan spoke up, Zevran listened intently, nodding at the remark about his arrival direction. Once Zoltan finished speaking, Zevran looked at the others and shrugged.

Seems as good a direction as any, logic seems sound. As the party discussed and agreed, Zevran fell into step with the others, heading further into the maze, while also making sure Zoltan was in the middle of the group in case they ran into trouble or trouble ran into them. Zevran decided to pass the time with chatter.

You know, I managed to get an insignia off one of the bandits. I do believe these bandits are known for being muscle for hire, at least that’s the rumours I’ve heard about them. He explained, keeping his attention on high as they walked. Places like this, who knew what sort of traps laid about for them to run into.