The man who had no name walked up to the cages with heavy steps, and peered through the bars. In one of them, a pathetic worm was whimpering and muttering to himself. That one used to have the cheek to call himself his father, but now he was nothing. A tool to perform his will, a toy to vent his wrath at, a pile of trash he ignored right now. It was the other cage he took interest in.

The girl, skinny and frail, was curled up in a ball on the floor of her cage, her eyes squeezed shut. Her age was hard to tell, as was usual with elves, but she didn't look like a walking vessel of centuries-old wisdom. She could be anywhere between twenty and a hundred years. Welts and bruises marred her face and body, and the patch of raw, oozing flesh between her breasts was a little offputting, too. But all in all, the lads hadn't broken her too bad. She would do nicely for tonight.

She opened her only functional eye, as the other one was hidden under a swollen bruise. The man couldn't help but laugh inside at the visceral horror reflected in her gaze, as she glimpsed his disfigured face under his helmet fashioned from an antlered stag skull. But it didn't last long. She extricated herself, like a stretching cat, and pushed herself up into a crouch to face him. Shaking her matted light brown hair out of her face, she bared her teeth in a snarl. Her bleeding fingertips drew red lines on the dusty floor of the cage. Nice. Feisty ones were the best.

He turned on his heels, splashed a flask of acid into the old fart's cage for good measure, and walked out, ignoring the sizzling sound of the green liquid and the screams of the captive.

"I want her in my room in an hour," he said to the burly man lounging at the entrance. He couldn't remember the fellow's name for the life of him. "Make sure to give her a healing potion first. I like my women with perfect skin."

The hour of waiting flew away like nothing. He sent half a bottle of wine down his throat to get himself into the mood. Then the other half, too. Then some more. Then he might have dozed off a little. When he woke up, the full moon was already doing its course through the night sky.

Muffled voices came from outside the door.

"What do we do now?"

"We just tell him, and then run like hell. He is probably too drunk to catch us."

He tore the door open and found two of his lads on the threshold, wringing their hands.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"Bring the girl," he barked. "What are you waiting for?"

"Um... Chief, we have a problem. She... um, kind of... escaped."

"What? How?"

"Turned into a leopard. Mangled Ed and Jon. Then another leopard came and—"

"Bullshit!" he bellowed. "Leopards, my ass! You failed! Fooled by a scrawny elf girl! And you call yourselves the Stag Lord's gang? You are a shame, a failure, a fucking disappointment! Do not show your faces here until you retrieve her!"

He returned to his room to grab some empty bottles and hurl them at his men, but by the time he found any, the failures and disappointments were nowhere to be seen anymore. He took two wobbly steps to go after them, then tripped, fell on his face, and passed out on the dirty rug.

He suddenly sensed he had company.

He smelled flowers fresh from summer rain, cool spring water, tree sap, and his own vomit. She is here. Oh damn. Shame crashed down on him like a ton of bricks. He hated to show weakness, especially in front of the lady that came to him in his dreams.

The green-skinned beauty lifted the stag helmet from the ground and gingerly dusted it off. She looked into the skull's eye sockets, ignoring him.

"My poor stag," she whispered in a voice of leaves soughing on a breeze. "Are you still the proud king of the forests? Or have you grown soft and weak, a fattened quarry for hunting hounds? Could it be that I... misjudged you?"

He scrambled for words to answer, but the vision was already gone. He turned to the side in an effort to get up, but his face touched something wet and stinky, so he turned to the other side instead. No, he would not leave this challenge unanswered. He would come for that pointy-eared little vermin and teach her a lesson she would never forget. He would assert his dominance.

Tomorrow.