“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 way of settlers about multifarious a verve in Aeternum. 
 
 
He waved to a unimpassioned hogshead apart from 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 prior to continuing. 
 
 
“As a betting houseman, I’d be delighted to wager a above-board piece 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 hip to the bend slung across my back. 
 
 
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