“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 solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared aside settlers hither multitudinous a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated butt apart from us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench before continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be delighted to wager a fair bit of invent 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 in to the bow slung across my back.