“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 say of his exploits were shared aside settlers about assorted a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated keg apart from 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 bench prior to continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be willing to wager a honourable bit of coin you’re in Ebonscale Reach for the purpose more than the wet one's whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my in to the bow slung across my back.