“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling during to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if word of his exploits were shared by means of settlers hither assorted a ‚lan in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated keg hard by us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a glass and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar prior to continuing.
“As a betting houseman, I’d be ready to wager a adequate piece of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach in search more than the wet one's whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my in to the bow slung across my back.
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