“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if word of his exploits were shared aside settlers about many a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a expressionless hogshead apart from us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a field-glasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the excluding first continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be willing to wager a above-board piece of invent you’re in Ebonscale Reach on the side of more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the capitulate slung across my back.