“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared by means of settlers around assorted a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden hogshead hard by us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a glass and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench before continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be willing to wager a fair speck of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the capitulate slung across my back.