The first thing Devin noticed was the stench. The inside of the tent smelled like a whorehouse that specialized in large, hairy men that feared water and any sort of soap whilst living in a jungle. He glanced sideways at Teryn as she came through with him and saw her nose crinkle almost immediately and her face pale.

The second thing that hit him was the sights. As his eyes adjusted from the brightness of the sun outside to the darkness of a tent only lit by a small hole in the ceiling, he had to fight back a gasp.

Half finished chickens and legs of meat were strewn about the dirt floor. Goblets and mugs were lying carelessly as well, with only a small path from the entrance of the tent to a large throne. The throne was made of wood and adorned with random assortments of gold and silver, seemingly hammered into it wherever its owner saw fit.

Sitting in this throne was the owner, the single filthiest woman Devin had ever seen. This woman gave a pig raised in a mud pit surrounded by dead pigs a run for their money and then some. She was slouching on the throne, resting back against one of the arms. What Devin hoped was mud or dirt caked her, and her hair stood on end in every which direction. Next to her was a well muscled man clad in only a loincloth and carrying a spear.

“Who dares to interrupt Tintin, the Bandit Queen?” The voice that came from the brown toothed mouth surprised Devin with its pitch and cadence, similar to that of a young girl.

The lead thief fell to one knee, followed shortly by all others in the room behind Devin and Teryn. He glanced up at the two adventurers and jerked his head toward the ground. They reluctantly followed suit, leaving only the filthy woman on the throne and her single bodyguard upright.

“Oh magnificent Tintin the malodorous,” the thief began. Devin heard a small snicker from Teryn. He shot a quick look around but no one else seemed to hear it. That half elf had been spending too much time with the dwarf. Glancing over to her he saw an apologetic look on her face being threatened by another laugh.

“We beseech from you an audience to discuss the five interlopers we found trouncing through our forest,” the lead thief said, head down and kneeling.

“Bwahahaha!” the woman shook with laughter. The smell of her breath, fetid meat mixed with garlic, managed to roll across the tent and hit him in the face.

“I see our trap was successful!” she gloated, still laughing.

Devin caught Teryn’s eyes and she raised her eyebrows. He knew something was up with the town being massacred, but a trap? Did they intend to lure people into investigating then kill them for more goods? It seemed like a pretty bold plan for a jumbled group of thieves who were barely trained.

“Perfect!” Tintin clapped her hands together, the sound like two wet slabs of freshly cut ham colliding. Devin cringed at why they might possibly sound wet. “Just like he said it would.”

The lead thief winced at this but did not say anything. Tintin gestured toward him to stand up. “Arise Sir Tonkins, and receive my blessing for bringing this bounty unto our land!”

Tonkins stood up slowly, reluctantly to Devin’s eyes, and walked toward his leader. The woman beckoned him closer impatiently. He leaned in and she planted a wet kiss on his forehead. He nodded his thanks and turned around. She gave him a quick slap on his rear and he stepped away. As he moved back toward Devin and Teryn he would not meet their eyes. The shame he must’ve felt was tangible, a heavy shawl in the air around them. None of the other thieves around the group wanted to meet his eyes either. Devin could not help but wonder how many of them had felt this self styled queen's touch against their wishes.

“Now,” Tintin’s crusted and red eyes fell on Devin and Teryn, “What are we to do with our little prizes? I must admit, I am a bit disappointed that there are only two of them, I was hoping for more.”

Tonkins cleared his throat, standing over the rest of them who were still kneeling. “As I mentioned before my queen, there are actually five. Three of them are still standing outside so they would not overcrowd your magnificence.”

“Five?!” she squealed, clapping her meatfists again. “That's right! Oh yes, this has been a most fortuitous day indeed! Shall we bring them in here, too? Oh, should I have these ones tied up and thrown in a cell, then bring the others in to judge them? I wonder what my payment will be for their capture. I can’t remember, did he want any captured dead or alive?”

“He did not specify, my Queen.”

A wicked smile spread on the bandit woman’s face, sending shivers down Devin’s spine. He had faced down blood lust enhanced goblins, humanoids with no moral compass, and even a rampaging ogre once, but he had never felt fear as seeing this woman's glee at the prospect of having complete control over another person's life.

Teryn let out a small cough and stood up. The room thickened with silence as all eyes turned on her. Tintin’s pig-like eyes were wide, as wide as they could open under her dirt encrusted eyebrows, and she looked as if no one had dared to do something as simple as stand before her.

“I do not mean to cause offence, Tintin the illustrious and most verminous,” she said. Devin held back a groan and prayed to whichever god was listening today that this woman, for her extended way of talking, did not understand any of the words Teryn would undoubtedly hurl at her as subtle insults.

“But I feel I should explain the situation a bit more to you before you make any decisions that could bring down anything terrible upon your own feculent head.”

Tintin stared at Teryn with unblinking eyes for several long seconds. Her guard was leaning forward slightly, both hands on his spear. Tonkins glanced between Teryn and his queen, waiting for some unseen signal.

Her fat red tongue rolled out from her mouth and wet her pale lips. “Continue,” Tintin said. The atmosphere relaxed slightly as she waved a hand flippantly.

“Thank you, your elastenia. I just wanted to explain who I was and what we are doing here. We mean no offense and have no plans to upset your kingdom.” Any worry Devin had that Teryn was going overboard with some of the thinly veiled insults and words thrown at this woman's camp were dissipated when he saw how much she loved the attention. Everytime Teryn used a large enough word, Tintin’s eyes would half close, as if she derived some pleasure from it. The elven word she just threw in was icing on the cake.

“My name is Teryn, and I am travelling with the Black Boar Band. They are a small guild out of Mossglenn Depot who perform contracts in exchange for money, effectively replacing the need for any sort of army or task force.””

“Yes, yes, I know what a guild is. I’m not stupid,” Tintin said.

“My apologies,” Terny bowed her head slightly. “I have lived for a very long time and have a tendency to explain everything. I have difficulty remembering who has access to what knowledge when so much of it is available to me. Consequently, I have joined the Silver Queen as a Chronicler. Perhaps someone such as yourself has heard of us? We are recent, but an important development.”

“Of course I’ve heard of the Chroniclers. I’m sure I knew about them before they even picked you to be one,” Tintin retorted. This time it was Devin’s turn to fight back a laugh. He managed to turn it into a small cough, but still earned a glare from Tonkins.

“Of course, dearest queen. My deepest apologies. Well, I am here to keep an eye on the guilds. They have had a free reign for far too long and the Silver Queen has demanded more accountability for their actions, and of course, more accountability for their income and subsequent fees. I only tell you this to let you know if I go missing it would be quite a sore subject for the Silver Queen. One that would demand her spend an extraordinary amount of effort and time locating my whereabouts and what happened to me.”

Tintin sat for a while in silence, eyes still on Teryn. She finally beckoned Tonkins forward and began whispering in his ear. Devin could not catch what they were saying and hoped the stereotypes about the larger elven ears were true. He saw Teryn focused intently on what they could see of their mouths, watching them talk.

Tonkins kept shrugging and raising his hands as Tintin became increasingly more agitated. Devin let his hand slowly slide toward the small dagger tucked underneath his belt as the woman started to get louder.

“But he didn't say anything about that! Why wouldn’t he tell me something as important as that!” she spilled out.

“My Queen, please, if we could keep this between ourselves,” Tonkins pleaded, casting a look towards the two captives near them.

“I don’t give two fucking sharts what they hear. He called me beautiful! He wooed and flattered me and promised me everything. Why would he omit something like that?” Tintin’s face was turning a steady red, reaching into plum territory.

Devin decided to try his luck with diplomacy, before reaching for a dagger. “Who is ‘he’ your lordship?”

Teryn, Tonkins, and Tintin all turned to look at him in near unison. Seeing the looks on their faces, fury from Tintin, disappointment from Teryn, and what seemed to be pity fromTonkins, he regretted his decision to speak up at all. For a brief moment he wondered what drove him to talk at all? Was it a need since he saw himself as a leader? Did he worry that Teryn did not have a handle on the situation anymore and it was deteriorating rapidly? Whatever drove it, he found himself wishing he could pull words back in for the second time that day.

“I’m sorry,” Tintin's child-like voice was low, sounding more like a normal woman and less like a spoiled child, for the first time since they came in, “I don't recall saying you could speak to me, maggot.”

“I’m apologize your Lordship, I didn't mean to-”

“And again, he talks without permission to me!” The filthy, self styled queens beady eyes were focused on Devin. He hardly dared to breathe as they waited, for risk of causing another offense to the Bandit Queen.

Finally, Tintin spoke again, her voice squeaky once again, “Throw them in a cage until I decide what to do with them.”

Thieves stepped up onto each side of Devin and Teryn and grabbed their arms.

“Your Queenship, if I may talk to you a bit more?” Teryn asked as the thieves started to pull them away. Tintin gave her no notice. She had turned her attention to the nearly naked man at her side. Hands that had probably not seena wash for years started to drift up and down his torso, and Devin swore he saw the man fight down a look of revulsion. He wasn’t sure whether he felt more sorry for himself and the Black Boar Band at this time or the consort masquerading as a guard.