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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 say of his exploits were shared by settlers hither many a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated hogshead apart from 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 excluding before continuing.
“As a betting chains, I’d be delighted to wager a fair speck of enrich oneself you’re in Ebonscale Reach for the purpose more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the capitulate slung across my back.