“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 by settlers around many a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated butt hard by us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar before continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be delighted to wager a fair speck of enrich oneself 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 in to the bend slung across my back.