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


He waved to a unimpassioned keg hard by 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 bench first continuing.


“As a betting houseman, I’d be ready to wager a fair speck of coin 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 bend slung across my back.


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