“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Personage’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared by way of settlers around assorted a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned tun beside us, and I returned his gesture with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar before continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be ready to wager a above-board bit of coin you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the wet one's whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my in to the bow slung across my back.