“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 by settlers hither multifarious a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a wooden hogshead hard by 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 bar prior to continuing.
“As a betting man, I’d be delighted to wager a honourable piece of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my with it to the salaam slung across my back.