"Where would an insignia get us?" She takes a step back to peer at the crates, as if she expects a symbol to appear on its side. She doesn't bend down to take a look. From her height, she thinks she can see there's nothing to even spy. No faded ink. No real chinks that'll give away what may have brought them to where they'd been found.

"We don't have books. We have nothing to go on. The houses around here are as rundown as the inn." She crosses her arms and lets her right arm bend at the elbow, resting it on her left as she thinks. "Did you check the weapons?"