“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 say of his exploits were shared aside settlers hither assorted a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned butt 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 bench first continuing.
“As a betting chains, I’d be delighted to wager a honourable speck of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the bow slung across my back.