“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Personage’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if word of his exploits were shared by means of settlers around assorted a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden 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 bench prior to continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be assenting to wager a above-board speck of coin you’re in Ebonscale Reach for the purpose more than the wet one’s whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my with it to the salaam slung across my back.
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