A loud pounding at the door woke Devin from his tumultuous sleep. Flashes of some dream he was having faded in and out of his head. He saw some goblins, a kobold, a woman, maybe a mermaid? No, it was gone now. He kept his eyes closed, squeezing them as tight as he could.

His head was being pounded on by some giant. It struck repeatedly, over and over, a blacksmiths hammer always striking the same spot behind his right eye as if forging the optic nerve. His mouth was full of cotton balls that had spent months crossing a desert at the bottom of a rotten mead barrel.

The pounding at the door happened again and he begrudgingly opened his eyes. He rolled to his side, hoping to alleviate some of the pain in his head, but it was to no avail.

“Whachu wan?” he tried to speak through the roll of sandpaper that was his mouth. Reaching over to his bedside, he grabbed a mug and saw liquid in it. He took a giant swig and nearly coughed. More mead. He took another swig of it anyways. It was liquid and might as well steer into the hair of the dog, right?

A pounding at the door was followed by a voice this time.

“Up and at ‘em, Devin!” Murton called through the door. Devin saw the handle twist and the door open. The dwarf came through with a freshly trimmed beard, clean and pressed clothes, and a bright smile on his face.

“How in the fu-” Devin stared at the chipper dwarf through hazed over eyes. He sat up, causing the throbbing to increase in his head. He groaned and leaned over, cradling his head in between his legs.

“That's the spirit! Now get yourself cleaned up real quick, we have a guest downstairs.”

“Guest?” Devin asked. Who could be coming for them at this hour. A quick glance toward the window told him it was still fairly early, the light spilling in was golden in color. Unfortunately for Devin, this light also sent a fresh wave of pain through his head with a small side of nausea as well.

“Yeah, a guest. Somebody has already answered our ad and is waiting for us downstairs. Teryn and Griff are already down there making her comfortable. You better hurry to or you'll have no say in if we hire her or not.”

The dwarf gave Devin a smirk before turning to leave. Devin’s clouded head could not figure out how he was walking with no issue. He had of course heard the rumors that dwarves could drink most anyone under the table, but to have no hangover? Bullshit.

A picture came to his mind, some sort of purple inside a glass jar, and he reached up with one arm towards the departing paladin.

“Wait,” he said, struggling with his comprehending his thoughts. “Teryn, she makes something for this.”

“About time lad, I thought you’d never ask for it!” The dwarf turned back and placed a small vial on the nightstand. “Now hurry yerself up and get down there, we are ready to start the day.”

With a last laugh he left, closing the door behind him. Devin grabbed the vial, taking a quick moment to struggle uncorking it, and down the purple liquid in one motion. A ball of cool, as if he had swallowed a snowball, nestled itself comfortably in his stomach. The feeling spread from his stomach outwards, spreading through his limbs and finally hitting his head.

The relief was instant. The sudden disappearance of the pain and pressure nearly caused Devin to cry out in pleasure. A single tear even managed to escape his eye before being swept away. His mouth moisented again and he could understand how the dwarf was so ready to go this morning. At that time, Devin could have kissed the drunkard elf and her magical concoction.

With a quick splash of water in his nether areas, a brush of the teeth, and a change of clothes, Devin was out of the room and heading down the stairs. He felt remarkably good for the amount of alcohol he ingested last night. The only downside was he was incredibly hungry. Whatever was in that potion had effectively cleared everything from his system. Before he could start pondering too deeply about where it went or if it was dangerous, he was downstairs and with his group, facing the potential recruit.

She was young, perhaps nineteen at Devin’s best guess, and willow thin. She wore a simple enough bow on her back and was clad in basic but well made leather armor. Her skin was golden brown with hair as black as a moonless night, short and a mess of spikes on top of her head. Her eyes were nearly auburn with gold flakes peppered throughout and as sharp as a hawk. Her nose was smaller and upturned on her slightly pinched face. All in all, she reminded him of what a wood pixie might look like if they were real.

As he shuffled toward the table to take a seat at the empty booth she walked toward him with her hand stretched out. He took it and she started shaking vigorously.

“Shia, at your service sir. I’m glad to be finally meeting the BBB and cannot wait to start working with you if you’ll have me join you and help out on all your contracts.” Her words came out in a jumble and Devin made a mental note to thank Teryn for her tonic, otherwise he would not be able to handle this right now.

“Glad to meet you, Shia,” Devin broke her handshake and sat in his booth. He motioned toward the empty chair between Griff and Teryn, “Please, sit with us.”

She wrung her hands for a moment then pulled the chair out and sat swiftly. She jumped as she sat and blushed a deep shade of red that managed to come through her skin tone. Removing her bow, she sat it down on the table and mumbled. “Sorry, forgot it was on my back.”

Murton chuckled a little and Teryn laid a hand on the girls arm, causing her to jump slightly.

“Take a deep breath, we like to keep these pretty informal. It makes for better interviews for everyone,” Teryn explained. “This way, we get to see the real you and you get to see the real us, especially since we will be spending quite a lot of time together in difficult situations.”

Griff nodded and Murton threw in, “Exactly. We need ta know what yer like before we start spending days and nights in close quarters, starving and possibly dying.” The twinkle in his eye let everyone else know he was joking, but it seemed a little lost on Shia as she paled.

Devin cleared his throat, “I feel the need to make one clarification. You mentioned the BBB and on the ad and we did list BBB, but I want you to know we are not Bronn’s Buyable Blades. We are the Black Boar Band.”

“Oh I knew that. I specifically sought you guys out to join you. I’ve actually been watching for a couple months now for your next ad,” Shia beamed.

Devin frowned a little at someone seeking them out but pressed forward.

“All right, well I have a few questions for you just to get a general idea of if you’ll fit. How much experience do you have in a mercenary band or guild group?”

Her smile faltered a little. “Well, um, actually, I’ve never been in one before.”

“That's ok, we can work with you to help mold you. Now, what experience do you have with your bow?”

“Oh tons and tons! I practice every day and can hit an apple off my friend Sara’s head from 100 yards away.” The smile was back and she started to reach for her bow.

Devin put a hand on the bow and stopped her from grabbing it, “We don't need a demonstration quite yet, at least not here.”

She blushed again and sat back.

“Now,” he continued, “How many people have you killed?

“None.”

“Ok then, kobolds or gnolls?”

“Err, none,” her smile was gone now, replaced with a worry line across her brow.

“Centaurs, satyrs, wyrmlings?”

She shook her head.

“What have you killed?” Devin asked. Murton was now leaning back, his brow furrowed at the girl. Teryn looked slightly disappointed and sorry for the young woman. Griff merely sat there, eyes on her and face as impassive as ever.

“Well, um, I have killed some stuff. Things like, um, deer, rabbits, that kind of thing.”

“So, hunting?” Murton asked, his voice dripping with disbelief. She nodded, looking down at the table.

“Why do you want to join a mercenary group, Shia?” Devin asked. Her eyes came up to meet his and he saw the fierce determination in them.

“You guys are the ones who do something in the world. You make differences, whether good or bad, you still do it. Farming and hunting are fine and all, but what's the point if monsters and evil people are going to come and take it from you? Yeah, I don't have experience, but I know I can do it. I want to, no, need to make a difference and this is the way to do it.”

Devin leaned back and watched her. She was obviously determined to join a group. Even if they said no here, she would likely be able to find some other group who would take her in. The question he now faced was could he take her in, knowing of her inexperience and their unholy luck with the fifth member? Could he potentially sentence her to the same fate the past members had been given?

Devins thoughts were interrupted by Murton speaking up.

“No,” he simply said.

“No what?” Shia asked.

“No, we can’t take you. I won't have the blood of a young thing like yerself on my hands when we take you out somewhere and your inexperience gets you killed. I have enough on my conscience already to hafta babysit you.” Murton met her gaze with his steely one. Her eyes where aflame with a mixture of anger and disappointment.

“Just because I haven't killed anything doesn’t mean-” She started before he interrupted her.

“I’m sorry but the answer is no. I will not allow this to happen. We need someone who at least is somewhat tested and can hold their own.”

“So says everyone?” she asked, meeting their eyes in turn. Teryn did not meet her gaze, Griff simply watched her, and Devin frowned at her. She held his gaze the longest before standing up.

“Fine,” she said, grabbing her bow. She spun and started to walk away.

Murton sighed and reached for the untouched plate of food in front of him. As he lifted a sausage and brought it to his mouth, fat and juicy between his fingers, it was torn away from his grip. He let out a startled yelp and they all turned toward the wall behind them.

There, the sausage pinned against the wooden wall, was a quivering arrow stuck clean through it. They turned in unison toward the door to see Shia holding her bow up, scowling at them.

“How’s that for ‘tested’ Mr. Dwarf?” she spat. The silence that followed was deafening. Absolutely no sound cut through the air as Murton’s mouth hung open, hand still lifted to it. It was finally broken after several seconds of eternity by Teryn’s wild cackle.

It could only be described as an insane witches cackle, as much as Devin hated to ascribe the word witch to her. It was high pitched and completely beyond her control. She started to rock back and forth, holding her stomach, as the laughter shook her entire body. Murton grew steadily more red in the face as he watched her. Even Griff allowed half of his mouth to turn up slightly.

Teryn finally gained enough control of herself to wipe the tears streaming from her eyes and say, “I love it. I love her. I vote yes, she’s in.”

Griff nodded as the other side of his mouth followed the first one, forming the first real smile Devin had seen him do in quite some time.

Murton turned to look at Devin, his face as red as the wine he loved to drink. Devin held his gaze for a moment before turning toward Shia, still standing at the door with her bow held aloft. She looked less angry, but was still frowning at them.

“I vote yes,” Devin said. The girls frown dissipated into a smile and she lowered the bow. Murton gruffed and puffed, standing up from his booth seat and pushing past Teryn, still laughing in her chair. He reached back to grab his plate of breakfast and stomped up the stairs.

Shia approached the group and watched toward where the paladin had stalked off a little apprehensively.

“I didn’t mean to make him so upset, I just wanted to show you I won't be a burden,” she said as she approached.

Teryn waved her hand dismissively at the stairs, “Don’t worry about it. He is easily offended, but his pride recovers even faster than it takes offense. By this time tomorrow he will be laughing and joking about the whole thing with you. Excellent shot by the way.”

Shia blushed again, though much lighter this time.

“I suppose proper introductions are in order,” Devin began. “I am Devin Tenfingers, This is Teryn, Frost of D’Nir, that is Griff the Brick, and the dwarf who stomped off is Murton.”

“He doesn't have a title of any sort?” Shia asked.

“Oh he does, but he does not like it.” Teryn quipped.

“Can I know what it is?”

“No, he will tell you in his own time. It is not our place to say.” Teryn said. Griff grunted next to Shia.

Devin stood up from the booth and extended his hand toward the young woman. “Welcome to the Black Boar Band, Shia.”