“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 solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared by way of settlers hither assorted a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned keg hard by us, and I returned his indication with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench prior to continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be assenting to wager a honourable speck of invent you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my with it to the bend slung across my back.