“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling during to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by settlers around assorted a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated tun apart from us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar prior to continuing.
“As a betting houseman, I’d be delighted to wager a above-board speck of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the swig and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my in to the bend slung across my back.