“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 solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared by way of settlers about many a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated tun hard by us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar first continuing.
“As a betting houseman, I’d be assenting to wager a adequate portion of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the swig and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my in to the bend slung across my back.