She entered without stooping. The inside of the large tent was spacious and well lit, with clusters of Everbrights hanging from the central pole. A poker table was off to one side, with an elderly dwarf and a fragging huge troll covered with tattoos sitting side by side. She didn’t know either one—strangers, thank the gods. There were some food wrappers on the table, the air pungent with the distinct smell of gun lubricants, metacrab burritos, and cheap soykaf. A pile of busted weapons filled a macroplas box in a corner. Housecleaning?