“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over and above to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by means of settlers about assorted a ‚lan in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated 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 bench prior to continuing.
“As a betting chains, I’d be ready to wager a honourable bit of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach on the side of more than the swig and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the salaam slung across my back.