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  1. “I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if low-down of his exploits were shared by way of settlers about multifarious a verve in Aeternum.

    He waved to a unanimated keg beside us, and I returned his gesture with a nod. He filled a field-glasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench in the vanguard continuing.

    “As a betting houseman, I’d be delighted to wager a adequate bit of invent you’re in Ebonscale Reach for the purpose more than the swig and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the capitulate slung across my back.

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