He waved to a wooden keg upset 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 court prior to continuing.

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

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