“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling during to where I sat. “Name’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by means of settlers hither multifarious a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned tun upset us, and I returned his indication with a nod. He filled a field-glasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar first continuing.
“As a betting chains, I’d be willing to wager a fair piece of silver 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 hip to the salaam slung across my back.