“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over and above to where I sat. “Name’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared aside settlers hither multitudinous a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated butt beside us, and I returned his indication with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be willing to wager a above-board speck of coin 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 hip to the bow slung across my back.