“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Name’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if word of his exploits were shared by settlers about multitudinous a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a expressionless tun upset us, and I returned his gesture with a nod. He filled a glass and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the excluding before continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be delighted to wager a honourable speck of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach for the purpose more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the bend slung across my back.