The guards threw Devin into the dank cell without ceremony. They twisted him as they threw, forcing him to land on his right side. The poorly wrapped bandage provided little cushion and his maimed hand exploded with pain. The guards locked his cell and turned to walk away.

“Shit eating mouth breathers!” he called after them as he started to sit up. Once his head stopped swimming from the pain and throw, he took stock of his situation.

He was in a small cell with a straw covered floor. Opposite of the door was a stone wall, the other three walls were metal bars allowing him to see the rest of the dungeon. Identical cells lined two stone walls with a narrow space between them for guards to drag prisoners.

He slid across the stone floor toward a mat of straw. Pulling the thin blanket off, he sat on the lumpy pile and sighed. What in the world did he get himself into this time? Hopefully Murton and Griff were ok. He had woken up being dragged to the cell down here and had no clue where they were. He winced a little as his hand throbbed some more. Maybe Teryn and Shia were able to get some help? If they even knew what had happened to him.

He sighed again and laid his head back. It bounced roughly on the uneven stone walls. He reached up with his good hand to rub the spot that hit a particularly sharp piece jutting out and cursed aloud.

“Been a long time since I heard another voice in here.”

Devin froze mid rub. He looked around wildly, trying to pinpoint where the voice had come from. Each of the cells were empty, containing a lumpy mattress of straw and buckets to do your business in.

The mattress and blanket to his right moved and began to sit up. The blanket fell away to reveal a pale orc woman. She turned around to regard Devin. She had no hair and an expression of utter exhaustion, deep lines etched on her face. The left tusk that jutted from her mouth was broken, leaving a jagged nub of tooth. She looked at him with lilac eyes, the flames of the torches that ran down the middle of the cells dancing in them.

“Who are you?” Devin asked.

She shrugged, “I’m Daisy.”

“How long have you been here?”

The orc frowned and looked around at her cell. “It's hard to tell time in here, no way to judge light and day. Best as I can reason, I’ve been here for two months or so?” She shrugged one shoulder. Heavy bags sagged under her eyes and as she shrugged Devin saw bruises on her exposed arm.

“What did you do to get here?” Devin asked.

“Well, that's not entirely fair now is it?” She paused, watching him. “How about we trade questions? You asked me one, so I’ll ask you one. We can keep going back and forth until we run out of questions.”

Devin nodded, “Sounds fair enough.” What did he have to lose telling some emaciated prisoner in Bronn’s personal dungeon a bit about himself? It was not like either of them would escape to see the light of day and be able to take advantage of the information.

“Who are you, my injured friend?” Daisy asked.

He paused a moment before answering. Did she see his injury as he came in? Maybe she was watching and saw how he landed on his hand and reacted.

“Devin,” he said. The silence became thick as she looked at him expectantly.

“Your turn,” her voice was barely more than a whisper, yet loud and hoarse in the stillness of the thick dungeon air.

“What happened to you, why are you here?”

“Ah, that would be two questions technically. We are trading one for one. Would you like the answer to the first one, or the second one?”

Devin cursed silently. Even though she had been trapped in this place for at least two months, she still talked like a dealmaker or genie of some sort. Perhaps giving her a ton of information about himself would not be a good idea after all.

“The second one,” he said. “Why are you here?”

“Because Bronn threw me in here,” she said coyly.

“Oh, come now, you know what I meant. What prompted Bronn to throw you in his dungeon?”

“But that is not what you asked,” she answered. “And now it is my turn to ask you a question. I am very curious to know what brought you here, but to avoid a game of mirror questions I will ask something else for now.”

She paused, reaching up to fiddle with the broken tusk, as absent minded gesture it seemed, before talking again.

“What do you feel your greatest accomplishment has been so far in your life?”

Devin was taken aback. What kind of question was that? Here they were, rotting and facing death in a filthy prison, and this orcish woman in the cell next to him was asking him the type of question a Bard or Chronicler would ask someone they were writing a tale about.

“What do you mean? Why ask that question?” He demanded. Daisy did not answer him, she just watched him with her soft, purple eyes. Behind all the desperation and despair of being trapped here, Devin saw the eyes of a predator still lurking deep within her. He shivered a little.

“That is a tough question. I have to admit I am not in the best mindset right now, so the answer may be only what I can recall at this time.” He paused, letting his mind wander back to the things he had done during his life. There were plenty of contracts that went well enough, Many of them were bittered by the death of their rotating fifth member.

Founding the Black Board Band was a huge accomplishment for him, even if he had not struck fame or notoriety with it yet. Recent events held a lot more sway in his mind though. He turned back toward Dahlia who was still watching him with unblinking eyes.

“Digging in and finding out enough bad information about Bronn to warrant being kidnapped by him and thrown into this cell.”

The orc’s eyes seemed to light up and she sat up a little bit. “How interesting,” her voice was a hiss. She turned back toward her blanket, nodding slightly. “How interesting indeed.”

Devin snorted. “What's so interesting about a man finding out something destructive about his hated rival? I figure you of all people would appreciate that, being here with me.”

Devin glanced back over to find the orc at her bars, mere feet away from him now. He jumped slightly at the sudden closeness.

“We may have similar goals in mind, friend. I too dug deep into Bronn’s affairs and stumbled on things I shouldn’t have. For that, I found myself forgotten in his prison,” the orc hissed.

“It doesn't look like you’ve been that forgotten,” Devin said motioning toward her exposed and bruised arms. He regretted the words as they came out.

Daisy looked down at her shoulder, as if noticing the bruises for the first time. She met Devin’s gaze again and shrugged, “Bronn never visits, what his lackeys do to me is likely no concern. For all he knows, I could be dead down here.”

There was a silence for a few moments before Devin spoke again. “I’m sorry I said that. It was a bit rude and forward of me. I’m sure you can understand being just a bit pissed off at your situation and lashing out.” He held up his mangled hand, covered in filthy bandages. “This wasn't caused directly by him, but I have a suspicion about where the thief who did this got the blade, and it involves that sack of shit.”

“What happened to the thief?” she asked.

Now it was Devin’s turn to smile. “Now that would be two questions in a row for you. I believe it is my turn to ask one.”

A ghost of a smile flickered on the orc woman’s face, revealing teeth that were surprisingly clean, minus the broken tusk. “Clever man. Rules are rules, what is your question for me?”

“Who are you, Daisy?”

She opened her mouth to answer but Devin held his hand up, “And I don’t mean your name. I mean, who are you really? I refuse to believe you have been here as many months as you say. Your teeth are in too good of condition, though the broken tusk is a nice effect for someone not paying full attention.”

She reached up towards her mouth, feeling at the broken tusk. “You certainly are a very clever man, Devin Tenfingers.”

~~~~

“Wouldn’t doing this at night make more sense?” Shia asked. The sun was just beginning to peak over the hills to the east, splaying its golden light across the pinks and periwinkle blues of the early morning sky. The rising sun let the exhaustion Teryn felt truly seep in. They had been fighting near the entire day yesterday, only to walk back and get accosted as soon as they entered town. Missing one night of sleep was not completely out of the norm for her, but with the previous day's excitement, she could really feel it.

“Gods, I must be getting old,’” she mumbled.

“How old are you, exactly?” Shia asked.

“It's impolite to ask a lady her age,” Teryn said.

“Do elves still follow that rule? I figured once you get past one hundred the number becomes kind of meaningless.”

“I’m also half human, so the rule still applies. And no, once you get past one hundred it becomes even more important to remember.” Teryn said. Shia’s eyes widened a little at the small revelation. Teryn smiled a bit to herself imagining her face if any of them knew her true age.

After shaking her head a bit, Shia turned back toward Dahlia who crouched beside them just outside of Bronn’s expansive compound. They were on a small roof that overlooked most of the outer compound. Bronn’s lair was an immense thing, taking up twenty acres as best as Teryn could imagine. There were low lying buildings all around with shrubs and trees were placed strategically to offer enough greenery to counteract the red wood and grey stone of the buildings in a tasteful manner. Teryn had to give it to Bronn, he knew how to hire a good landscaper and architect. A single road, with small tributary paths branching out, ran from the southwestern entrance in a flowing pattern, similar to the river that ran through Mossglenn, coming to a rest at the steps of a mansion.

Mansion was not quite the correct term. From the outside, the main building looked like a simple mansion. Teryn knew it was fortified more like a castle with hidden passages and reinforced areas, thanks to the blueprints Dahlia had shown them. When asked how she got them, she would not relinquish that information, letting them know that was not important at this time and they would learn soon enough.

“Well, wouldn't it be better to do this at night?” Shia asked again.

“No,” Dahlia responded flatly, her eyes intent on the compound, flicking around as she surveyed the area. Shia sat for a few moments, waiting for some elaboration. Teryn could feel the irritation around her. Why was Shia so irritated by the orc woman? Maybe she felt intruded on as the newest member of the band by her?

“Care to explain why not?” Shia asked tersely, her finger tapping on her arm.

“No.”

Shia sighed and rolled her eyes. She turned back to Teryn and shook her head. Teryn gave her a small shrug and waited for Dahlia to give the signal. Once she was certain Bronn had left for the day, they would descend and walk in the front gate.

They each wore matching silver robes, laced with blue silk, marking them as Argenti, or the highest ranking members of the Silver Queens Court, also thought to be a part of her secret police force. With these robes, they could get anywhere they needed to with minimal questions. At least, that was the plan. None of them, save Dahlia, had ever actually seen an Argenti and Shia and Teryn had only heard rumors. Anyone who was faced with one usually disappeared shortly afterwards, never to be seen or heard from again.

Teryn shivered a little in the robes. She had lived long enough to fear any form of secret police run by a tyrannical dictator, no matter how it was disguised, Suppression and terror were key instruments in a fearful governments toolkit for ruling and the Argenti were no exception.

“All right,” Dahlia said, bringing Teryn back to the present. “Bronn just left the front gate with quite a few of his closest mercenaries. It's now or never.”

She turned toward the two women, “Ready to go?”

Shia nodded eagerly. Teryn took a steadying breath. This would either be one of the greatest prison breaks ever, or lead to a horrific and painful death. “Ready.”