That string of statements ran through Grishka's mind. Certainly a<em>glorified</em>adventurer's life seems ideal. She pulled her legs in to sit cross-legged. "Viloet, bards collect coin by telling grand tales. Stories of the successful ones blown out of proportion. Those that<em>survive</em>atleast. You don't hear about the ones who fail unless they die 'valiantly.'"<br/><br/>She stretched out an arm to gently tap the halfling on the nose. "You've survived. That's more than most can say and if these situations seek you out, I doubt the tales will remain yours alone."