“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if word of his exploits were shared by way of settlers about multitudinous a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned butt upset us, and I returned his gesture with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the court before continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be delighted to wager a fair piece of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the wet one's whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my in to the bow slung across my back.