“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Name’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared aside settlers about multitudinous a verve in Aeternum.


He waved to a unimpassioned butt hard by us, and I returned his gesture with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar first continuing.


“As a betting fellow, I’d be willing to wager a fair portion 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 cool to the capitulate slung across my back.


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