"Adventurers! Please, wait!"
Healy and the others stopped at the sound of his voice and turned around, looking a little puzzled at the stocky man who had chased them out of the tavern.
Hom stopped in front of them and tried to catch his breath. He plastered on the most earnest smile he could manage, though it crumpled his face into a mass of wrinkles.
"Um... sorry to bother you, but I overheard you in the tavern. You need a guide?" He rubbed his hands together, quickly looking over the group before settling on Healy, who seemed to be their leader.
"So what if we do?" Greck folded his arms, his tone wary.
When the tavern keeper had mentioned hiring a guide earlier, he'd wanted to bring up how he'd been swindled by one the last time he'd come here.
The man had taken their money, then led them straight into a nest of giant leeches. If they hadn't run fast enough, they would've been sucked dry by now.
Besides, locals who came forward like this were usually trying to fleece you. Nine out of ten were scammers looking to get some money out of you first.
Hom hurriedly nodded and bowed. "That's good, that's good! My name's Hom, Hom Mudfoot—though that's just what people call me," he quickly added. "I've lived in Trout Town for almost twenty years. I won't claim to know everything, but I know the eastern part of the swamp like the back of my hand."
Earlier in the tavern, when Old Nick had explained the situation, he'd mentioned that Blackwater Swamp was vast.
Since Trout Town lay on the eastern side of the swamp, when locals talked about Blackwater Swamp, they usually meant the area to the east.
The waters of the Twilight River flowed