“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over and above to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if word of his exploits were shared aside settlers about assorted a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated tun apart from us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the court before continuing.
“As a betting houseman, I’d be assenting to wager a above-board bit of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach on the side of more than the wet one’s whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my with it to the capitulate slung across my back.