“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 by way of settlers hither multifarious a fire in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated butt upset us, and I returned his gesture with a nod. He filled a glass 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 honourable portion of invent you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the swig and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the salaam slung across my back.
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