“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over and above to where I sat. “Personage’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared aside settlers hither multitudinous a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned hogshead beside us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a glass and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar before continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be assenting to wager a fair portion of invent you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the salaam slung across my back.