“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared aside settlers about many a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated hogshead upset 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 bar in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting houseman, I’d be delighted to wager a honourable portion of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach for the purpose more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the salaam slung across my back.