“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared by way of settlers hither assorted a ‚lan in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden hogshead beside us, and I returned his indication with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench prior to continuing.
“As a betting chains, I’d be assenting to wager a adequate piece of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the wet one's whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the bend slung across my back.
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