The group entered the forest to the west of town and trudged along a small game path, little bigger than a hands width of leaves cleared from the forest floor and some broken twigs. Devin kept Jeff at the front, dagger close to his back, with Shia behind him. Teryn followed her, with Murton ambling along behind her and Griff taking up the rear.

Shia kept her bow drawn and arrow nocked, an eagle eye on Jeff. A couple of times now he had fumbled and tripped, trying to roll away into the dense undergrowth. He was quickly caught, suffering a few more bruises and a nasty gash along his left check from Thorn.

They walked for a little over an hour in near silence, the only sounds around them the natural calls of the forest and the occasional sob from the would-be bandit leading them. As they neared the end of their second hour of walking Jeff slowed to a stop.

He looked around for a few moments, then turned toward the group. “We are nearly there. You just follow this path for a couple more minutes and it will lead you right into the bandit camp.”

“Well, we better keep moving forward then, shouldn't we?” Devin prodded at the man with his knife.

“You can’t be serious. Please let me go,” Jeff pleaded. “I’m sure they already know we are approaching, they have eyes everywhere! If I lead you in they’ll kill me, or take me and torture me for bringing you here! Please, I beg of you, you can't make me do this!”

Devin glanced back toward his crew. Shia watched the man with no pity in her eyes. Teryn and Griff both seemed disinterested. Murton was openly glaring at the bandit. Devin turned back toward Jeff.

“You’re going all the way with us. You chose to sign up with this bandit group, you have to pay the consequences for the shitty things they do to everyone.”

Jeff shook his head, “No. No, I won't do it. You can do whatever you like to me, but I won't go back in there with you.”

Devin jabbed forward with the dagger a bit. Jeff flinched from it slightly, but did not stop shaking his head or move.

“You can’t make me do it, there is nothing in this world that-”

A thick quarrel burst forth from Jeff’s chest, stopping him mid sentence. He rocked forward a little and looked down, staring at the bloody bolt head and shaft now sprouting from him. He looked back up into Devin’s eyes and mouthed wordlessly. Blood started to trickle from his mouth and he fell to the ground.

Behind him stood another man, only ten feet down the same path, with a crossbow levelled at the group. Devin saw no bolt armed in it and started to step forward, drawing Blossom.

“Ah, ah, ah,” the man tutted. “I would stay exactly where you are.”

Devin froze as the sound of more crossbows clicking and locking into place sounded in the forest around him. Quick glances to his left and right showed figures squatting in the undergrowth. More clicks sounded from above him. The damn thieves were in the trees as well. They were completely surrounded by loaded crossbows.

“Put your weapons on the ground, slowly,” The man in the path demanded. He reached into a small sack on his leg and pulled out another bolt, loading it quickly into his crossbow. He waved the now loaded weapon at the group.

Devin looked back at his guildmates behind them, wondering if their luck finally ran out and they would all reap the luck their fifth person usually did. He gave them a quick nod and they started to place their weapons on the ground.

“You too, missy,” the lead thief gestured toward Teryn.

“I do not carry weapons,” she stated flatly. Devin was relieved to see that she had lost the ice spell as they walked, making her seem like less of a threat.

The man's eyebrows raised slightly in disbelief. “No weapons travelling out in the wild? A likely story. Search them.”

Several thieves, covered in immaculate boiled and studded leather armor, burst from the surrounding bushes and tree trunks. They looked much more like a fast moving strike team employed by a high paying lord than any bandits Devin had ever seen. Watching them bumble over though, he could see though they wore armor, they were not trained in its usage.

Several loaded crossbows were still pointed on them as they were searched. Devin faced straightforward as every crevice and area of him was patted, poked, and prodded, often roughly. He swore he even felt one of the thieves get in a few clandestine grabs and squeezes.

The group of thieves finished patting them down and stepped back. “All clear,” they said as each one pulled away.

The pat down confirmed Devin’s suspicions about the group. They were not very well trained, just basic forest thieves that somehow had access to armor and weapons only the rich or elite should have. Come to think of it, the goblins they had killed yesterday were also armed in a way no goblin tribe should ever have been.

He sighed inwardly in relief that they had not found the smaller daggers he kept, one in each boot and one under his belt. He glanced back and did not see any extra weapons lying on the ground and knew several knives, and at least one small axe, were still hidden on Griff and Murton. Teryn had her magic, which they seemed oblivious too, and he did not know if Shia had anything hidden on herself.

“Even on the elf lady?” the main thief gestured toward Teryn.

“Nothing man, she is only wearing those robes and has that pack with food and shit in it,” the one who searched her said.

The main guy frowned, “Why in the world don't you have any weapons?”

Quick on her feet as always, Terny responded, “I’m a chronicler, documenting everything that happens with this group for Mossglenn Depot and the Silver Queen.”

“Like a bard?” he asked.

Teryn scowled, “No, not a bard. Do you see an instrument? Do I look like the type of person to inhabit decrepit taverns and drink until I start a silly, and utterly inaccurate, sing-along?”

Devin suppressed a smile as he saw the main thief wince a little. Devin had been on the receiving end of one of Teryn’s withering scowls and lectures, it was never a pleasant experience.

“I just never heard of anything called a chron-kler,” he said.

“Chronicler. And it's a fairly new position. The Silver Queen has suspicions her guilds and adventuring groups are not giving her the full story or paying their entire cut. You see, up until recently, it has been nearly entirely self reported, or taxed only on what the contract pays and of course the flat fees for maintaining a guild, rather than what the group may earn out during their adventures. Since more and more are discovering caches of treasure in deeper and deeper wilderness, she would like a cut of that and-”

“Ok, ok I get it. You don’t have to talk my damn ears off. Government workers, sheesh.”

“And,” Teryn continued, “My travels are extremely well documented and if I don't return and report my findings back to the Queen in the next two days, a war party comprised of the Silver Hand will be stomping all around this area looking for me.”

“All for one chron-licker?”

Teryn sighed as he butchered the word, “Yes, all for one Chronicler. It’s all about appearances and a display of power to be frank. Now, what are we going to do about this predicament?”

The main thief stood, looking puzzled. He peered around at the members of the Black Boar Band and his own little group of thieves. He kicked forward with his foot toward the body of Jeff. “Was he one of your own?”

“No,” Devin answered. “He was actually one of yours.”

“Ah, pisspot,” the man cursed. He ran his tongue over his teeth, clearly thinking hard, something he was likely not used to doing, before coming to a conclusion. “Grab their weapons, we are going to take them to Tintin to decide what the hell to do.”

He turned away from the group as the bandits picked up the weapons from the ground. Devin heard him mumble as he started to walk away, “Way to much work for the pay I get…”

Several bandits stepped behind the group and prodded them forwards with the crossbows still loaded and in the hands of untrained persons. The group walked slowly, making no sudden movements that would startle the amateur fingers holding those triggers.

“Aren’t you going to blindfold us or anything? Sorriest bunch a bandits I ever seen,” Murton taunted from a few people behind Devin. Devin groaned quietly and the dwarf’s impetuousness.

The lead bandit stopped and looked back. He gave a quick nod and the group around them started patting themselves. After a few moments the leader spoke impatiently, “Are any of you going to blindfold them?”

“I can’t find anything to blindfold them with, sir,” one of the bandits to Devin’s right spoke. She kept patting herself all over.

“Check in their bags for anything.” the leader said.

The groups bags were quickly rifled through and excess clothing brought out. Devin managed a small smirk seeing Murton getting blindfolded by a pair of his own boxers before his eyes were covered with a shirt of his own. Serves the stupid dwarf right for speaking up like that.

They started forward again, stumbling along the treacherous path, at a much slower place. After a few moments Devin collided with someone in front of him. He was shoved back and stumbled into Shia behind him.

“Watch where you’re going,” the leader snarled from in front of him. Devin reached up and touched the impromptu blindfold around his face.

“How?” he asked. He was starting to agree with Murton, this was the sorriest bunch of bandits he had ever seen. If they had any part in the murder of that entire town, it was only because they had a ridiculous arsenal at their disposal.

“Ugh!” the leader was clearly frustrated at everything that happened. “Just remove their stupid blindfolds, we are here anyways.”

The shirt was removed from Devin’s eyes and he blinked in the sudden sunlight. They were standing in a large clearing in the forest, ringed by several leather tents. A sizeable fire was roaring in the middle of the clearing with a deer slowly roasting on a spit. Devin wished that the wind would shift and bring the roasting smell his way before he was prodded forward again.

They started toward the fire and seemed to be heading toward the right side, enabling his wish. As they got closer they were steered toward the left and the smell was left far behind as they approached a wide tent at the edge of the clearing.

This tent was wider than any of the others and square in shape. It looked like someone had torn apart several normal tents and sewn them together to make a brick of tent, about three times wider than a normal one. Two spikes were outside the tent, adorned with heads that were far too decayed to determine what, let alone who they were. The leader disappeared behind a flap into the tent and left them waiting outside, ringed by bandits with crossbows.

Devin took the time to glance around a bit more. There was no real perimeter to the camp, the flattened grass and dirt ended into undergrowth and brush, along with the trunks of trees. Other people, men and women alike, all dressed in immaculate leather armor, were starting to gather around and observe the prisoners.

Just as the crowd started to whisper and nudge amongst themselves, their captor leader came back from inside the large tent.

“Tintin will see you now.”

The group all started walking toward the flap and the bandit held his hand up. “Not all of you. Only two can go in. I’ll let you decide who, but decide quickly.”

Devin turned toward his group. “Suggestions?”

“You and Teryn,” came Shia’s response.

“Aye,” Murton agreed. “You two are better at diplomacy than me. And though I’m sure we could fight our way out of this, It’s probably best to try talking first.”

Griff grunted.

“Teryn?” Devin asked.

She shrugged, “Sounds good to me. Let us see what this bandit leader has to say.”

Devin nodded at her and they both stepped forward. The leader pulled back the flap of the tent and walked in ahead of them. Devin and Teryn followed into the gloom of whoever resided in this tent.