“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 means of settlers about assorted a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden 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 first continuing.
“As a betting chains, I’d be willing to wager a adequate portion of coin 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.
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