The tent was large, constructed from heavy canvas stretched over thick wooden poles. Ropes anchored it to the ground outside. Inside, lanterns hung from hooks, casting a dull yellow light across the space. The ground was covered with rugs and animal skins, though dirt still showed through in places. The air was thick with heat, sweat, alcohol, and smoke from the burning lanterns.

Several long tables had been pushed together to form a rough square in the center. Men in different states of undress sat around them, some of their armor and weapons piled in various corners. They held metal cups and glass bottles of ale and wine. Some were visibly drunk, their voices loud and uneven. Some ate from plates of cold meat and brown bread. Some just watched, talked, their eyes moving from one thing to another with interest.

Women were positioned among them. Some sat on the men’s laps. Some knelt beside chairs, refilling cups or leaning in to let a man’s hand rest on them. Some stood still, their heads lowered. Some were fully nude, men spanking their butts as they moved around to feed the men and pour drinks.

At one corner, a woman was unclad, bent over the table while a man stood behind her. Her low moans filled the air as his cock buried into her core. No one paid them much attention.

In another area, two women were seen touching each other. One had her tongue on the other’s core, licking and sucking while some men watched with keen interest.

The noise rose and fell in waves until the tent’s flap was pulled aside. Commander Azhren entered. His presence shifted the room. He was a broad man with a fine face and a thin beard. In his hand, he held a leather leash attached to a metal collar.

The collar was around Isoldea’s neck. She was naked. Her skin was marked with bruises. Her hair was tangled, falling over parts of her face and shoulders. She walked behind him with her head low, her feet bare and packed with dirt.

Several men stood; others raised their cups as a chorus of cheers and hails followed.

"Commander Azhren!"

Azhren stopped in the center of the tent. He let the chain slacken slightly but did not release it. He raised his free hand. "I greet you, great warriors of Drakwyne."

He laughed.

Some men slapped the tables and hooted in response. But many of the men’s stares fixed on Isoldea. They looked at her body without hiding their lust and desires.

"Commander Azhren! I heard you returned with so much from your raid on the Emberspire pack. Is she one of the gifts?" One of them asked

"How much for her? I’ll take her now." A man with yellow teeth called out, lifting a coin between his fingers.

"I’ll give you double," Another man said from a corner.

"Triple," Another man waved a pouch of gold in the air.

Azhren’s calm face changed. The grin he had worn when he entered smoothed into a serious expression. He looked at the men who had spoken, one by one; those who wanted to speak noticed his expression and stopped talking immediately.

He cleared his throat. "Great men, how about I tell you about my raid on Emberspire?" He said. His voice carried across the tent, without him having to shout.

A middle-aged man named Torth stood up. "We have all been waiting to hear about this adventure."

He said.

The men mumbled in agreement.

"It was all fun raiding Emberspire. We broke through their fences so easily. The screams. The bloody scenes. My men had fun shoving their cocks into the women. I had my time with the alpha. Faelan was indeed a fine man. But he was stupid to speak of the moon goddess who had watched us destroy them." Azhren recounted.

The men listened.

"The fool said he would rather die and be with the Moon Goddess than join our forces."

He added.

A few men laughed at that.

"So I grabbed his neck and snapped it. I killed him." Azhren said, flat and direct.

"Poor Faelan must be drinking ale with the damn Moon Goddess now." Torth chuckled.

"And hopefully he gets to fuck his purple-haired Goddess as a reward for his loyalty," Azhren added.

More laughter followed, louder this time.

Azhren looked at Isoldea. He tugged the leash, forcing her to raise her head. "And this one is their Luna." He added, pushing her forward.

There were whistles and murmurs. The men looked at her with keen interest even more.

"A Luna? Then she should be worth more than ten coins." Torth said.

"She is not for sale," Azhren said.

Some of the men murmured, expressing their disappointment.

"She is a Luna. And a Luna she will remain as long as she draws breath." He held a serious expression for a long moment. Then his face softened. He threw his head back and laughed so hard. "Luna, my foot!" He spat.

"Look at you all taking me seriously,"

He gestured to them.

The men laughed along with him. Relief and amusement passed around the table, breaking the tension.

"She is nothing now. No title. No power. Just a body." Azhren added.

He walked Isoldea to a wooden post, looped the leash around it, and tied it off.

"She has one talent," Azhren turned back to the men. "One thing she is good for as a Luna. Who can tell me what it is?"

The room settled again, but the attention on Isoldea did not ease.

The men exchanged looks. One man, drunk and red-faced, called out, "Cooking!"

"No," Azhren replied.

"Fighting?" one man offered.

"No."

"Healing? Some Lunas are healers." Another offered.

Azhren shook his head. "Not this one."

"Bearing children?"

Another offered.

"She could, but that is not a talent," Azhren responded.

"Dancing?"

"No."

"Serving wine?"

"No."

The guesses continued, each one met with a simple rejection. The men grew louder, some throwing out lame answers to keep the game going.

Then a younger soldier near the end of one table raised his hand. He looked to be no more than eighteen. His voice cracked slightly when he spoke. "She is good at satisfying men."

The room quieted almost immediately.

Azhren pointed at him. "You. Come here."

The young soldier stood. He walked around the table and approached Azhren. "What’s your name?"

"Valerius, commander." He bowed his head.

Azhren gestured to him to move closer. Valerius hesitated, then walked closer. Azhren put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and leaned in close. The other men watched, waiting.

"Valerius, how long have you been in this land?"

"Five months, Commander." He answered.

Azhren laughed. "That’s great. I’m impressed by how far you’ve come."

"Thank you, commander."

"So tell me, have you ever been with a woman?"

"No, my lord."

"Man?"

"No, my lord."

"Well, you just won yourself a round of sex with her. No coin." Azhren said, loud enough for the room to hear.

The men cheered, and some slapped the young boy on the back as he returned to his place. A grin spread across his face.

Azhren held up a hand to quiet them. "This Luna has done half the young men in her pack—maybe more. I am told she started with the boys as soon as they could stand upright. Isn’t that a great talent?"

A few men chuckled. Some chorused a positive response.

Azhren continued. "So it doesn’t make sense for her to belong to one man. She should belong to as many as possible. That is her purpose."

"Whore!"

"Indeed, she should serve as many as possible!

Some of the women in the tent watched in silence. A few of them exchanged glances. There was tension in their faces, though it showed in different ways. Some looked away. Others stared at Isoldea with something sharper, something close to resentment.

Azhren raised his voice. "I want to play a game. It is called Toss a coin to the whore."

A few of them laughed at the name alone.

"How do we play Commander?" Torth asked.

"It is simple," Azhren said. He walked to a cushioned seat near the back of the tent and sat down. Two women immediately moved to him. One settled on his left thigh, the other on his right, and he put an arm around each. "Every man here, as many want to play, will lie with her for a coin." He let the words settle. The men exchanged glances.

"Think about it, you get to pay less for a cunt than you would anywhere else. It would be fun."

Many of the men nodded their heads.

Azhren looked around the room. "And for those who do not play, you get to join the fun of curiosity. You can count and see how many men she can take before we call it a night."

It earned a louder reaction. The mood shifted fully into a restless, eager state.