He waved to a wooden keg beside 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 in the vanguard continuing.

“As a betting fellow, I’d be willing to wager a honourable bit of enrich oneself 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 bend slung across my back.

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