“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Name’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by means of settlers around multitudinous a ‚lan in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden butt beside us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a glass and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench before continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be ready to wager a adequate bit of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the wet one's whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the bow slung across my back.
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