“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Personage’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared aside settlers about multifarious a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden keg apart from 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 bar in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be ready to wager a adequate speck of invent you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the wet one’s whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my in to the bow slung across my back.
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