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

    He waved to a unanimated hogshead hard by us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a field-glasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bar prior to continuing.

    “As a betting man, I’d be ready to wager a fair speck of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach on the side of more than the drink and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the salaam slung across my back.

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