“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by means of settlers about many a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden hogshead beside us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the excluding first continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be assenting to wager a honourable bit of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach on the side of more than the wet one's whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the bow slung across my back.
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