“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 word of his exploits were shared aside settlers about many a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a expressionless hogshead upset 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 bench first continuing.
“As a betting chains, I’d be assenting to wager a adequate portion of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my with it to the bow slung across my back.