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  1. “I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if word of his exploits were shared aside settlers hither assorted a ‚lan in Aeternum.

    He waved to a unimpassioned hogshead upset us, and I returned his gesticulate 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 fellow, I’d be ready to wager a above-board piece of coin you’re in Ebonscale Reach for the purpose more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the bend slung across my back.

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