“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared by settlers about multifarious a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated hogshead hard by us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a glass and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be assenting to wager a adequate portion of coin you’re in Ebonscale Reach on the side of more than the swig and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my with it to the bow slung across my back.