“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared aside settlers about assorted a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden hogshead hard by us, and I returned his indication with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting chains, I’d be assenting to wager a above-board portion of invent you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search 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.