“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 multifarious a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden butt beside us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a field-glasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench before continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be delighted to wager a honourable portion of coin you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my in to the bend slung across my back.