“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over and above to where I sat. “Personage’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared aside settlers about many a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated keg hard by 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 excluding in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be ready to wager a honourable piece of coin 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 hip to the capitulate slung across my back.