“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over and above to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared by means of settlers hither multifarious a ‚lan in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated hogshead hard by us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar before continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be assenting to wager a above-board bit of coin you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the bend slung across my back.