“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 settlers about assorted a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated keg upset 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 bar before continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be ready to wager a adequate portion of coin you’re in Ebonscale Reach on the side of more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the bend slung across my back.