“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling during to where I sat. “Personage’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared by way of settlers about many a verve in Aeternum.
 
 
He waved to a expressionless keg apart from us, and I returned his gesticulate 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 houseman, I’d be willing to wager a above-board piece of silver 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 with it to the bow slung across my back.
 
 
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