“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling during to where I sat. “Personage’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared by way of settlers around multifarious a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden tun upset us, and I returned his gesture with a nod. He filled a field-glasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench first continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be delighted to wager a adequate bit of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the bow slung across my back.