“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over and above to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared by way of settlers about multifarious a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden tun upset us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a glass and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the excluding in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be delighted to wager a honourable bit 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.