“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over and above to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if word of his exploits were shared aside settlers hither multifarious a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated butt hard by us, and I returned his gesture with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the court in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting houseman, I’d be delighted to wager a fair speck of invent you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the salaam slung across my back.