“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling during to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared aside settlers about many a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned tun beside us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a glass and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the court first continuing.
“As a betting houseman, I’d be delighted to wager a adequate piece of coin you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the swig and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my in to the bend slung across my back.