“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over and above to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared by settlers about assorted a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a expressionless hogshead upset us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench prior to continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be willing to wager a above-board 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 with it to the bend slung across my back.