“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 low-down of his exploits were shared aside settlers hither assorted a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden hogshead beside 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 before continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be ready to wager a above-board bit 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 cool to the capitulate slung across my back.
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