Burrowed into her bedroll by the embers of the fire, Linzi woke to a heavy hand shaking her shoulder. It was Amiri, her other new friend. Linzi stared at her with big bleary eyes.

"What?"

Amiri didn’t say a word, just nodded in the elf’s direction. She seemed to be fast asleep, wrapped in her tattered cloak, her face pale under the stars. The leopard lay curled up across her legs, keeping her warm. Linzi remembered how Guelder had previously explained that elves didn't sleep in the same way as other humanoids. This, however, looked like totally normal, deep slumber. Was she not being an elf right now? No, that couldn't be. What a silly idea.

"Wait for it," whispered Amiri.

Without opening her eyes, the elf began to speak, but not in her usual voice. She sounded gruff and unfriendly, as similar to a grumpy man as her delicate vocal cords allowed.

"You want to cross, you pay up. Simple as. Understood?"

Linzi shrugged, annoyed for having been startled out of sleep.

"So what?"

"There's a spirit in her head!" hissed Amiri, tugging nervously at her necklace made of animal teeth.

"You think you can do anything, just because you have a fancy helmet, heh, Stag Lord? Get the fuck away from here, or else I’m letting the dogs out! Haha! Serves you right, bastard!"

Giving the matter some thought, Linzi realised that Amiri had a point. An elf was supposed to dream in Elven, not in Common, which Guelder normally spoke with a funny, lilting accent and with much better taste than she was doing now.

"She does speak weird," she admitted.

"I like the way she speaks now," said Amiri. "Simple and to the point. Easy to get."

The elf's breathing became loud and agitated. She rolled her head to the side, then back, her hands clenched in fists, her heels digging into the ground. Pangur raised his head, sensing her distress.

"Fucking hell! It burns! Everything burns! I must get out!"

"Do we wake her up?" asked Amiri softly. "That spirit is tormenting her!"

Linzi shook her head.

"No way! Are you crazy? Don’t you want to know what happens next?"

Amiri raised an eyebrow, but left it at that. Barbarians enjoyed a good story as much as the next person.

"Holy crap! They shot me, the bastards! I must reach the bridge! … Nooo! Not the bridge! May you burn in Hell forever, you fucking antlered clown!"

The rest was gurgling, gasping, coughing. Now that Linzi had her curiosity fulfilled, she nodded to Amiri. The barbarian gave Guelder a violent shake, then quickly backed away before her growling leopard could snap at her hand.

The elf's catlike eyes finally popped open, glowing green in the starlight and reflecting deep confusion.

"Oh," she muttered. She felt about her person, checking for burns and arrows, then let out a relieved sigh. "So it was a dream. All good then."

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She stroked a strand of wavy, light brown hair out of her forehead, leaving a stripe of blood in its place.

"Are you a seer?" asked Amiri suspiciously.

"No. I never had this kind of nightmare before."

"There must always be a first time," remarked the barbarian.

"It was about someone I encountered on my way here," explained Guelder. "Well, sort of. A bridgekeeper, murdered by the very same gang that captured me. I saw his bloated corpse shamble out of the Shrike, rattling for vengeance. The spear I carry comes from his burnt-out house."

"What do you know about this Stag Lord?" asked Linzi. "The innkeeper at the last stop of my journey mentioned his name with horror."

"I met him in person," said Guelder. "Surely you know about Erastil, the stag-headed god of hunting and small-footprint lifestyle. His worship seems to be widespread in these lands."

"Of course," nodded Linzi. "Everyone knows Erastil, the most boring god ever."

Amiri chuckled and patted her on the back, almost making her fall forward. Guelder ignored the remark.

"Now imagine a distasteful parody of this deity: a burly, scarred man parading with a longbow, in a stag skull helmet, smelling of half-digested alcohol. There you have the Stag Lord. I saw his face staring at me through the bars of my cage. His men burnt my body and ripped out my claws just for fun, and more would have followed, had I not escaped. On that night, I made a vow to myself. One day I will come for him with a group of friends, all armed to the teeth, and make him pay for all the suffering he has ever caused to the land and its people."

"Count me in," grinned Amiri. "I'm up for a little skull-bashing anytime. And if your stories are anything to go by, that scumbag has it coming."

"Me, too," joined in Linzi. "I'll compose something amazing on the fight. A ballad, or maybe an epyllion, based on first-hand combat experience... That's my dream!"

"That is a good start," said Guelder, pulling her cloak tighter. "Ouch."

She looked at the palms of her hands, and found them sticky with blood. She began to examine her fingertips with a triumphant and slightly evil smile. Linzi didn't understand. How could she scratch herself so badly without any visible fingernails, and why did this make her so happy?

"My claws are growing back," muttered the elf. "That means payback time is near."

"Your... claws?" Amiri frowned. "Is that a druid thing?"

"No. A wereleopard thing."

Linzi instinctively scooted a bit further away from Guelder. Amiri glanced back above her shoulder at the ginormous sword lying next to her bedroll. The elf remained calm and even looked a bit amused. She probably saw similar reactions all the time. Linzi couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her.

"Be assured, I have my curse under control. You need not fear me, except under the full moon. That said, naturally, you are free to decide whether you still want my company, and if you do, whether you trust me enough to let me keep watch for the rest of the night."

Amiri yawned into the wide world, not bothering to cover her mouth.

"You know what?" she said with a shrug. "Most adventurers are weirdos. Murderers, outcasts, nutjobs and the like. You'll fit in. Also, I'm sleepy like hell, and you must have keen senses, what with being half animal, right? You could as well keep watch. Linzi, what do you say?"

"Um... I can't decide if this... erm... condition is badass or terrifying. But at the end of the day, she let me out of that chest, and didn't attempt to eat me ever since. So I'll stick with badass, for the time being."

"Thanks, both of you," said Guelder. "Then I will take it from here."

As her companions wiggled into their bedrolls and fell asleep, Guelder remained alert, staring at the embers but keeping her ears open for any unusual noise. Drifting into slumber, Linzi heard her mutter to herself:

"I will return. I promise."

The border between sleep and wakefulness is a fertile soil for creativity, as Linzi often experienced. This time, a grand idea began to take shape in her mind. A chronicle of... well, A Chronicle of Whatever Guelder Will Do Next. This was only a temporary title, of course. Sentences began to swarm in Linzi's head. The last lines of a prologue. The fearsome no man's land she had crossed was still calling to her, claiming her, entangling her in its invisible vines and tendrils. She promised herself to return there sometime.