One afternoon, inside the Gasping Pufferfish tavern.
Smack!
Two cards were slammed down hard on the greasy tabletop.
"Swamp Turtle! Ha ha, I win it all!"
Hom planted one foot on his stool, his face flushed with excitement as he swept the small pile of copper nails in the middle of the table toward himself.
The bald man sitting across from him looked as dark as if he'd just crawled out of a chimney. He angrily threw down his cards. "You old bastard, have you been licking Lady Luck's toes these past couple of days? How come you've been on such a winning streak?"
A guide with a messy mop of curls beside them took a swig of cheap ale and smacked his lips. "Hey, Hom, I heard... you've teamed up with a group of tough customers these past few days. Is that true? Don't tell me you're bragging again."
"Bragging?" Hom perked up at that. "Hack didn't tell you? They were right here that day. They casually set fire to his nest! Those fine folk—especially that mage, he's the real deal!"
He raised his thumb and waved it proudly in front of everyone.
Hack, the bald man, rubbed his slightly scorched scalp and cursed, "Damn, don't remind me... Who knew that fat dog, looking so dazed and stupid, would be so damn dangerous?"
Another card player leaned in and asked curiously, "They really can use magic? You mean the group from Rose Town or the one from Stone Raven Town?"
"They're one group now!" Hom had just won another hand and was in high spirits. He took a big gulp from his mug, then lowered his voice conspiratorially. "You should've seen what happened yesterday. Tsk, tsk. Before, we'd go into the swamp on edge, afraid of running into too