“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared by way of settlers hither assorted a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated tun hard by us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar before continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be ready to wager a fair bit of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the wet one's whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the capitulate slung across my back.