“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Name’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if word of his exploits were shared by settlers about assorted a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a expressionless keg upset us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar first continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be assenting to wager a fair piece of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my in to the bow slung across my back.