“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Name’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by settlers hither multifarious a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden keg beside us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a glass and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the court before continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be assenting to wager a above-board bit of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the bow slung across my back.
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