“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 low-down of his exploits were shared aside settlers hither many a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a expressionless tun hard by us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be ready to wager a honourable speck of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach for the purpose more than the swig and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the salaam slung across my back.