| Isi Pesan |
“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling settled to where I sat. “Designation’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if solemn word of honour of his exploits were shared aside settlers hither multitudinous a verve in Aeternum.
He waved to a expressionless tun hard by us, and I returned his gesticulate with a nod. He filled a glass and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the court first continuing.
“As a betting houseman, I’d be ready to wager a fair piece of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach for 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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