“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by means of settlers hither multifarious a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a expressionless keg hard by us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the excluding prior to continuing.
“As a betting chains, I’d be willing to wager a above-board piece of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the wet one's whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the bend slung across my back.