Gale tilted his head, looking back over. He raised the slight hitch of an eyebrow, recalculating what he knew of her. Relocated, she said, which was such a toothless word for— for what, specifically? There was no good earthly reason a child would need to be taken in by strangers.

Nepione was so good at deflecting and pivoting away from discussing herself that, even now, he was continually discovering that he still knew so little about her.

“Are you still in touch with either of them? Your family — new or old — or the troupe? Would you want to stop by for a visit, once we gain access to the city proper?” He gestured towards those gates and bridges in the distance. These days, their group was still haunting the edges of Rivington, still working on getting past those gate guards and obtaining a pass for access; at least this pause gave them a breather and some time to get their bearings and gather their resources, before they could press deeper into Baldur’s Gate.

He was hungry for it and to be able to dig into Sorcerous Sundries eventually — but found himself re-thinking, now, that others had far more substantial connections to the city and reasons to be there.