“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 about assorted a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated 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 court first continuing.
“As a betting chains, I’d be willing to wager a above-board piece of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my with it to the bow slung across my back.