Hom shut his mouth sullenly.
He read Taiwan novels on Taiwan Novel where he could choose whatever he wanted.
His brows were tightly furrowed as he stared at the lousy hand in his own grasp. He then glanced at Hack across from him, who had already won three rounds in a row, and grumbled irritably, "Hack, I'll bet my last dry pair of underwear that you cheated while shuffling just now! No matter how drunk the Goddess of Luck was, she wouldn't kiss that frogman-stomped face of yours three times in a row!"
Hack grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. "Hom, admit it. The mosquitoes in the swamp must have sucked your brain dry. If you put that energy into memorizing the cards instead of complaining, you might even win back enough for a mug of ale."
A low round of laughter rose around them.
Hom threw down his cards in annoyance and was just about to get up and buy another drink to drown his sorrows.
Bang—creak—
The door was pushed open.
Cold, damp air rushed inside, making several people near the entrance shiver unhappily.
Hom's gaze fell on the people entering, and he instinctively stopped halfway to his feet.
The first to enter was a short woman with short chestnut hair. She wore a cleric's robes, yet carried a war hammer that was somewhat too large for her frame. Her expression was gentle.
Right behind her was a young man wearing plain white cloth armor. A massive staff wrapped in cloth was strapped to his back. His face was calm, but his eyes gave off a steady, composed air.
A dog that looked as though it had been eating very well wagged its tail at his feet, looking around curiously.
Next came a kind-looking, bespectacled middle-aged priest.