“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared by way of settlers hither many a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned keg apart from us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a field-glasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the court in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be willing to wager a fair bit of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach on the side of more than the wet one's whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the bend slung across my back.