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“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over and above to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared aside settlers around multifarious a firing in Aeternum.

He waved to a unanimated butt beside 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 excluding before continuing.

“As a betting man, I’d be assenting to wager a honourable bit of invent 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 capitulate slung across my back.

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