“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over and above to where I sat. “Personage’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if word of his exploits were shared by settlers about assorted a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned tun apart from 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 bench before continuing.
“As a betting chains, I’d be willing to wager a fair speck of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the bow slung across my back.