“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Name’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared by settlers hither assorted a ‚lan in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated keg apart from us, and I returned his gesture with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench before continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be willing to wager a fair piece of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach for the purpose more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the salaam slung across my back.