Gri

Definitely an event Gri would want to attend. It's easier to go incognito in large crowds, and there's bound to be some heavy purses to lighten up. Plus it's a good opportunity to escape the city for a while. It can be quite oppressive. An old woman's disguise would do nicely — nobody suspects a grandmother on the road.

She had watched them through the worg fight.

The Goliath hauled the beast off the Dragonborn without waiting to be asked. The paladin had him propped against a wall and bandaged before anyone else thought to sit down. The bard kept playing through it — a shout here, a few notes there — and sat in the dirt afterwards with his hands shaking. The wizard kept his head and threw the spells that needed throwing.

A bad crew protects nothing but its own purse. A worse one trusts only the contract. These ones moved like they had each other's backs without having had the conversation. That was harder to fake than gold.

The old woman could go. The wrinkles, the warmth, the tremble in the voice — Gri folded them away like a costume back into its trunk. She stepped out from behind the wall and let them see her face. Not the real one. None of them ever saw the real one. But the closest thing she had given anyone in years.

They might be worth keeping for a while.