“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared by way of settlers about multifarious a ‚lan in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned tun beside us, and I returned his indication with a nod. He filled a glass and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar prior to continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be ready to wager a fair portion of invent you’re in Ebonscale Reach on the side of more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the salaam slung across my back.