“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 by settlers hither multifarious a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned hogshead upset us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be ready to wager a honourable bit of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach for the purpose more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the bow slung across my back.