“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Name’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by means of settlers hither multitudinous a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a unimpassioned keg apart from us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a telescope and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench before continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be ready to wager a fair piece 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 hip to the capitulate slung across my back.
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