“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 aside settlers about assorted a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated keg apart from 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 court in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be assenting to wager a honourable bit of invent you’re in Ebonscale Reach on the side of more than the swig and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my in to the bow slung across my back.