He waved to a unanimated butt apart from 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 bench first continuing.

“As a betting man, I’d be ready to wager a adequate piece 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 hip to the bend slung across my back.

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