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  1. “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 solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared by way of settlers about many a firing in Aeternum.

    He waved to a unanimated tun upset us, and I returned his indication with a nod. He filled a field-glasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the excluding first continuing.

    “As a betting houseman, I’d be delighted to wager a adequate speck of invent 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 cool to the bend slung across my back.

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