“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling during to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by settlers around assorted a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a expressionless hogshead 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 court before continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be delighted to wager a honourable bit of coin 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 hip to the salaam slung across my back.