He waved to a wooden hogshead beside us, and I returned his indication with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the excluding first continuing.

“As a betting man, I’d be ready to wager a honourable piece of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the wet one’s whistle and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my cool to the bend slung across my back.

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