The presence so desired by his master slept like a dead animal, lying somewhere in a dark corner; blissfully unaware yet of the trials and tribulations he would soon face, and which all were related to the prisoners and their escape. Barely a sound could be heard from the small body where it was curled up on the cold stone floor, unmoving and partially concealed as a heap of rags by the master's feet.
Igor dreamt peacefully of an evening spent in the decent part of Zantaric where a trail of delicious aromas had invited him inside a tavern. As he entered this tavern, at least in his sleep he was allowed enough coins to pay for everything he wanted so much; be that large portions of all his favorite foods along with as many drinks as one could physically have - and yet he had even enough change to afford having fun without being asked to give up all his treasures.
In fact the number of coins he carried seemed to vastly increase the more he used - and both his dream-self and his physical body sported a crooked smile as he realized the full extent of what he'd be allowed to do without hindrance. And he knew perfectly well what he wanted to do now that he was no longer hungry nor thirsty.
His smile widened, and while the dream resumed to fullfill his deepest, darkest fantasies, the wretched little man hugged closer to him an empty bottle of booze, the smell of which were strong enough to daze an elephant; if such a majestic creature had been native to the region.
Alas, just when he was about to open the doors to paradise for real, the scene changed abruptly - and he was once again Igor sprawled across the floor cradling the empty bottle in his arms, while Master howled his name in what sounded like unfathomable anger
The Hyoitean misfit blinked slowly, his bewildered gaze searching the Professor, and finding him red-faced with emotion; his fists balled up from suppressed rage. "Master...?" Igor uttered, freeing himself from the rags that had been covering his body. So the inn had been no more than a dream? He shook his head, attempting to drive away what clouded his mind so; sensing in response the very uncomfortable start of a headache.
Oh, wait; he remembered now. He had indeed been to a tavern for dinner the previous evening, but the pleasant events into which his dream had been about to escalate had been entirely absent from reality. On the other hand he had made it back home with the Zantarian liquor, the bottle of which now made a soft clink as it touched the floor, and was subsequently sent rolling a few feet away when Igor rose to his feet.
Then he realized....
"Master!" he called out in utter surprise upon seeing the empty cages and the desolate cellar, where none but himself and his flustered superiour were to be spotted. "The prisoners... They have escaped!" How was that even possible, Igor wondered, without a key?
The pint-sized man's jaw dropped, a most terrible idea painting itself across his mind.
The elf! Oh, but of course she hadn't....Had she? Igor quickly felt down his belt, searching for his tools, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt familiar textures touching his fingers. Except - "No! The little bastard child! She made it off with my lockpicks!" Igor howled; the statement favorably sprinkled with profanities both in the common and Hyoitean tongues, the latter of which would to a trained ear suggest indecent interactions with a walrus.
He would make her pay for this theft, oh yes he would. The lab assistant were known to guard his personal possessions with a fervor akin to how a story-book dragon would guard his treasure vault; and it mattered little to him that a vast majority of these things were indeed unlawfully obtained in the first place. The fact that the pointy eared little beast had used his own stealth against him wounded his pride far beyond words, and he promised himself that when he found her, he would wring her little neck.
