The Beauty IS the Beast

[raggidman]

As suspected, you've got a shakespearian side!

[D.Foxy]

( "All the World's a Stage, and all men and women but players...." )

( And to continue: )




Action is good. It provides something to do. And prevents you from thinking too much.

At this moment, Feyne would prefer not to think at all. In the first place, she is too busy. She and Keetin are on the run now, and carrying a disabled boy, hiding in dark corners, scouting out for a clear run to the next place of hiding, thinking of a route ? all this is taking up all her thinking capacity. As if this wasn?t enough to think about, Keeting is showing strange signs of weakness ? sometimes he is hopping along on his crutches so fast that she has only to help him a little as they run along: and sometimes he hangs as limp as a skooma addict who has just taken in a whole pipe in a brief time. The spells of weaknesses are unpredictable, too: and this, too, is a factor she has to take into account when they are moving and hiding. She has asked her Lover anxiously whether he is feeling all right, and has received the answer ?Nothing is the matter!? ? which, naturally, worries her even more. They are now hiding in one of the vacant apartments in the St Olms Canton. On the way they had to dodge many patrols, and Feyne is thankful that she hasn?t had to kill any of the Ordinators. She has had enough killing for today. Perhaps for all time.

She looks down at her hands. Yes, just as she had suspected, Orlanc?s blood is still on her hands. She gets up from the bed where Keetin is sleeping ? or resting, she cannot tell, although his eyes are closed ? and goes to a basin to wash the blood off her hands. The basin quickly turns as red as her hands regain their brown?but it does nothing for the brown study she is in.

I will probably never get that blood off my soul, she thinks quietly.

Now that her mind does not have to be a weapon of escape and evasion, it relentlessly moves back to the last hour. The events replay across her mind again and again, and she shudders, reliving them.

Orlanc?s hand reaching out to her mask, and ripping it off. His shocked face and his shout ?YOU?RE one of them THEM, too!? and his face?at first a flash of anger, and then full of a grief unmistakable as he stood there transfixed. Her hand had already swept out her sword in a reflex action, but she had stopped, hesitating, her mind torn between a swirling kaleidoscope of emotions. Orlanc recoiling back. Then suddenly Keeting exploding out of his chair and into Orlanc?s arms, his one good arm flashing out to strike at Orlanc?s face and then to pull Orlanc?s head near his own. Both of them going down in a tangle, and Keeting whispering something into Orlanc?s ear: Orlanc suddenly screaming out ?NOOOO!!!? and jumping back to his dropped armour, and drawing his sword?out of the corner of her eye she sees Keeting smiling up at Orlanc, and Orlanc, his face now a mask of rage, raising his sword, eyes looking only at Keeting ?then Orlanc?s eyes widening as Feyne?s sword slips in between his ribs, as smoothly as a knife slicing through butter. He falls, slowly, to the floor, the hilt of Feyne?s sword jutting from his ribs, his eyes never leaving Feyne?s. Then Keeting jumping up, his hand on Feyne?s arm, and saying ?We must escape, now!? while still staring into Orlanc?s face, and still smiling?and then the flight, out of the room, into and out of apartments, hiding in corners, all the while hearing the buzz and exclamations of the discovery, and the chase behind them.

That was two hours ago. In those tense times of dodging and running, she had overheard from the dark corner where they were hiding that there is now a price on both their heads. She is now, officially, an outlaw wanted for murder. Keeting is wanted for questioning in that case. Five thousand Septims for her capture, and a thousand for Keeting. It seems half of Vivec is talking of nothing else. Their descriptions are posted everywhere, and she knows from experience that every Ordinator, Town Guard and Adventurer, to say nothing of ordinary citizens, will be keeping one eye posted for them. And since her reward is so high, she knows that she is to be killed on sight?and the reward is to be given for her head. They will have to move out only at night, and run straight to the sewers. Even then there may be battles, and that means she will have to kill again, and again?she shudders. She has never killed guards or Ordinators in her life, and now today she has killed her former friend, the head of the Ordinators, and will probably have to kill more. Including, perhaps, innocents.

And I don?t even have any Evidence to clear my name, she thought bitterly. I suspect Orlanc is a traitor, but apart from this book I have no proof?and what proof is this book worth, anyway? Just an ancient and unheard-of tome of Necromancy, and I don?t even have solid proof that that was the book that Keeting was referring to. Besides the fact that Keeting too is wanted as an accessory to murder, and so any testimony that he might give is going to be essentially worthless. Well, while Keeting is sleeping, and we are waiting for dark, I should read this book?perhaps it will give me some clues as to what I should do next.

While she reads, the Beast is calculating, rapidly. My puppet, Keeting, is showing signs of disintegration! It seems the arm and the leg I had lopped off has worn out that flesh much faster than I expected?that is why he is having these fainting spells, which are now happening even when I am directly controlling the will of that flesh! If experience is any guide, even with this rest he is now taking, he will rot and decay very, very soon. Now that I have caused Feyne, through this puppet, to commit murder?it seems a shame to discard this puppet, as I have the other used up ones, by ordering it to drown itself in the sea. How can I squeeze the last ounce of use out of it?

He thinks rapidly?ah, of course! Right now I sense that Feyne is worried, wondering whether she has done the right thing, hoping she will not have to kill more ?innocent? people. And she is also wondering where to hide?and how to clear her name! I will suggest to her, through my flesh puppet Keeting, that she should come back to the tunnels! There, she should search for ?evidence? that will show that Orlanc is the real traitor, and that she was right to kill him?and there, too, she will not have to worry about killing ?innocent? people.

Thus, I kill many birds with one stone. I get my puppet back, and maybe can find some way to squeeze some additional use out of him. I get Feyne into my lair, and I will either supply her with some false evidence that will cause her to go out in a rage and kill more innocents?hee hee, how pleasant that will be?or I may even kill Feyne, transplant a heart into her, and make her into a Zombie! Ah! Which would be the more cunning, the more exquisitely cruel plan? Even I cannot decide. Well, I can afford to wait. She is so much in love with my puppet that she cannot think clearly?she will do anything he says.

Feyne is reading a passage in the book which she sees Orlanc has underlined.

?In the year (-----) the Breton Mage Layton, in his wanderings, discovered that there was a market for very freshly dead bodies and human hearts. Further inquiries by him led him to discover that the buyer was always one person, a huge, squat shape more like an Ogrim than a man, heavily cloaked, who would pay good money for them ? and who would become extremely angry if the corpse or heart was even more than one day old. As a result his suppliers would simply resort to murder rather than risk his wrath over an unfresh corpse, and this was the reason for an outbreak of murders in the parts where the mysterious stranger dwelled. As Mage Layton was busy with his own private wars, he did not pursue this matter further, but he did bring it to our notice.
We greatly fear that the stranger has brought to us from the east the infamous, black practice of making Zombies. Our information on what these are is slight. But it appears that necromancy has darker levels than we have suspected, and that NOT ONLY THE SOUL, BUT EVEN THE FLESH, may be enslaved.?

Feyne suddenly remembers, again, her last vision of Orlanc.

As she was escaping with Keeting?s arm over her shoulder, she looked back, and saw Orlanc, dying, his mouth now streaming blood and unable to speak, still signaling to her in sign language. Keeting had his back to the dying Ordinator, so he could not see his signs. Orlanc signed -

?RUN?QUICKLY?ORDINATORS?COMING?.HIDE? and then..

?DON?T?TRUST??

Orlanc by then no longer had any strength left, he slumped to the floor?but with his last strength, he had pointed a finger.

Straight at Keeting?s back.

(to be continued)

[D.Foxy]

(continued)

?This is the best way, Love! We cannot hide anywhere in Morrowind for long ? the reward on our heads is far, far too high. Neither can we allow those cruel cannibals who cut off, and ate, my flesh to continue to harass innocent people. No, we must be bold, and go straight into the lair of the enemy?and there not only find the evidence to clear us, but also search out and kill all the evil things that live there. Even if we do not find evidence, if we can kill five or twenty evil men and creatures, surely the Ordinators will take that into account, and forgive us? Think, Love! This is the only way left for us!?

Feyne hears Keeting?s impassioned appeal, and slowly nods her head. It all seems to make perfect sense. She smiles tenderly at her lover?she had never suspected that Keeting had a mind to match his amazing good looks! Gently, she pulls him into her arms, and kisses him ?and recoils, in shock and disgust. From his mouth is the odor, faint but unmistakeable, of corruption and decay. The Beast notices this at once, and thinks that his puppet is deteriorating faster than expected. Yes, it was time, indeed, to get Feyne into his direct clutches before she notices too much. But first, a word or three of explanation will be needed?

?Do I have bad breath, Love? Ah, I?m not surprised. Curse that Ordinator! Who knows what was in that potion he gave me? Even now my head and stomach still feels a little queasy.?

Feyne smiled, touched by her Lover?s concern, and feeling a wave of tenderness wash over her. ?Yes, but I want you to keep well in the background?I can?t fight and look out for you at the same time! On the other hand I don?t dare to leave you here in Vivec, either. So we?ll do this?these cannibals seem to be most active at night, and sleep during the day. We?ll slip down to the Sewers at night, and hide there until daylight. Then we?ll move through the tunnel to their lair?and I?ll find a place to keep you hidden. I?ve been modifying my crossbow so that you can load and fire it with your one hand and foot, so you should be fairly safe even if one of those monsters stumble upon you by accident! And I think I may find some ways to best those monsters in this book I stole from Orlanc. Now rest again?you?ll need all the rest you can take!?

While they wait for night, she reads deep into the book. She discovers more about ?Zombies? ? how they are suspected to be mere puppets of a necromancer, and how little even Mages know about them. There is one intriguing sentence, however, which tells of ??the half-state between life and death cannot stand for long, the normal Zombie is said to decay rapidly, as soon as it is reanimated, its flesh soon assuming its true identity of decay and corruption ? however, it is also said that powerful Necromancers, by various hidden and dark means, may delay this decay for some time, depending upon the power of their dark arts. But all the Mages agree that no matter how powerful the Necromancer, a Zombie cannot be animated forever?. She shudders, imagining a corpse, outwardly looking pink and healthy, infiltrating society for the evil business of its master?I wonder, she thinks, just how many undead are in Vivec now? Perhaps there may be one near this room, even!

And the undead boy stirs uneasily in his sleep, while the mind of his Master, the Beast, is thinking deep and hard. Never have I kept a body this long before, and now I see that the physical decay is affecting even my emo-sense. I cannot pick up her thoughts through Keeting?s body any more?but what if I could implant a NEW heart into him? According to my research, although I have never tried it yet, one dead body can accept up to three hearts. And the Ordinator Orlanc is lying, unguarded, on the cremation pile in Vivec, and according to the Dark Elf custom, none may approach his corpse before morning! Ah yes, I see an opportunity?I shall send one of my creatures to cut the heart out of Orlanc?s body, and see if I cannot use it to squeeze some more use out of this most useful Keeting-puppet! What wonderful irony! The heart of my worst enemy being turned to the use of the puppet who caused him to be killed!

Feyne shuts her book, and is surprised to discover it is now night. She wakes the boy up, and has to help him up?he is better than before, but still definitely weaker. On his crutches, he hobbles slowly behind while she tensely scouts ahead, and after a nerve-wracking hour they reach the sewers unspotted?only another eight or so hours to go, she thinks. She turns to Keeting, and is not surprised to find him slumped over, dozing again. As she covers him with her cloak, both for warmth and for camouflage, she notices that his fingertips are turning grey?and that the smell of corruption appears stronger. This worries her, but she pushes it to the back of her mind.

In the morning Keeting is definitely worse. Now his whole body appears to be turning grey, and he is slurring his words ? Feyne is so worried that she even wants to surrender Keeting and herself to the authorities, trusting to her skill to break out of jail afterwards, but Keeting will have none of it. According to him, the ?cannibals? have some powerful potions of healing hidden in their hideout, and they will probably heal him?and besides, they have a duty to fight evil. Worried, but seeing his point, Feyne agrees.

Not a single enemy is sighted as they come back to the lair?it seems as if her theory is right after all, and for the first time since Orlanc?s death her heart lifts a little. Perhaps luck is turning on their side, at last! She discovers a perfect spot to hide Keeting, right behind the back of a heap of crates and urns piled in a corner. Keeting even shows her an empty bottle of the magic elixir of health he claimed the cannibals had, and told her that if she found another, full bottle, he would be cured. Elated, she leaves him there, while warning him to stay completely hidden and only to come out at the sound of her voice.

The boy watches her move away into the shadows. When he is sure she has gone, he rises, lurching as his weakness threatens to overwhelm him. He moves towards a spot in the wall he remembers, and pulls on a lever cunningly camouflaged as a torch. A section of wall slowly moves aside. He disappears into the secret room.


(to be continued)

[raggidman]

Your posts here come fast and furious. I noticed a small detail that you might like to adjust in the last post but one:

He thinks rapidly?ah, of course! Right now I sense that Feyne is worried,

Would he really say to himself "right now I sense?" or would it be better to either rephrase that phrase or insert a few words earlier in the sentance along the lines of: 'He thinks rapidly while sensing Feyne's state of mind...ah, of course! Right now Feyne is worried,'

[D.Foxy]

(1) That is because this story, as I have said before, has already been written.

(2) Hmmm...just a small change, and (BTW) it shows you DO take your reading seriously! I congratulate and admire you. No Problemo.

(3) And there is still a twist in the tale a-coming! Faithful readers, beware!

[raggidman]

:eek: urk, raggidman frantically sharpens the editiing tools just in case...

[syko]

Wow!

This story is so amazingly deep and well thought out, yet perfectly exciting and original, it makes all other TES stories look like mere children's novels! You have such an uncanny talent for flawlessly analyzing emotions and thoughts, yet they flow beautifully into the story without any of the cumbersome details that scar most other ambitious works like this. I only wish I had enough time to read the rest, as I've only made it about 2/3rds through your posts.

From someone who has been playing Oblivion non-stop for roughly a week, this has been the first thing that has thoroughly captured my attention and erased all thoughts of Oblivion from my mind while I was enthralled in it.

Kudos to you D.Foxy, and I will certainly find more time to catch up in the story, as well as absorb the rest of this impending fan masterpiece!

[D.Foxy]

(Me getting a Fan Club now! *wheres a 'ceiling fan' emoticon when you need one*)

And this thread will have over 200 views soon!!

Woo hoo hoo!!!

A continuation! READ ON READERS! A RIP ROARING FINALE IS A-COMING!!!!

(Boy...sometimes even I shake my head at myself..)


Anyhoo...


Waking up to the memory of pain is never pleasant.

Feyne?s body was one dull ache, but that was nothing compared to the searing pain in her neck, head, and left arm. Even opening her eyes to the dim torchlight was a torture: she closed them shut again at once, wincing at the pain the light brought to her throbbing head. She flexed her limbs, experimentally. Ah. She could not move, she was tied up?and she was naked! Further flexing of her limbs told her that she was tied to an X-shaped St Andrew?s cross, and that this cross, instead of being perfectly vertical, was slanted at an angle of forty-five degrees off the floor. Therefore she was neither standing up nor lying down: and there was a wooden crosspiece supporting her head, so that while her body was at an angle to the floor, her head was perfectly vertical. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and the first thing that she saw was the thing she had seen last before she had been smashed into unconsciousness. She shut her eyes again, for the vision was too painful to endure. But the movement of her eyes had been seen nonetheless.

?Ah?The Adventurer Feyne is now with us. Welcome and Greetings!?

The voice was now bringing a flood of memories to her throbbing head, all of them vile. She now remembered leaving Keeting, then slowly and stealthily scouting and stalking one of the dark corridors. She had taken the utmost of care, she had been inhumanly patient, yet even so when she rounded one of the dimly lit corridors she had been confronted by five armed enemies at the same time as the sound of rush of feet behind her informed her that more enemies were behind her. Even as she leapt forward, her sword flashing, one enemy already falling with her throwing knife in its throat, her mind was telling her that this ambush was so perfect that the enemy must have been watching her for some time now.

A feint, a slash, and another enemy was wounded. Time was of the essence, and Feyne did not dare risk the deadlier but riskier and time-consuming thrust which would kill. There were simply too many enemies for her to risk having her sword caught inside some enemy?s guts. Diving to the floor and rolling forward, Feyne broke out of the ring, and ran forward. As she ran she took a deep breath, then leaped forward and threw her sword up and forward. As the sword descended Feyne, agile as an acrobat, had seized it in her teeth. With her two hands now free, she dropped them crosswise to the throwing knives at her waist, and as her left foot touched the ground again she whipped around, and threw the two knives underhand at the crowd of enemies chasing her. Even before the knives had hit their targets her sword was back in her hand again.

The Shuttle, her Old Swordmaster had called this technique: when confronted with two groups of enemies front and back, charge and break out at one end, then turn and break out through the other end. The bodies of the two wounded enemies had not even hit the ground before Feyne was among the six remaining ones, feinting, striking, blocking and parrying in a blur of movement that was one seamless whole. But even as two more enemies fell she heard more footsteps both in front and behind, and she remembered, bitterly, what her master had told her: ?All the technique in the world won?t help you, my girl, if you?re cornered with a hundred enemies surrounding you!?

Bastards, she thought, with a huge, explosive rage sweeping though her. At least I?ll go down fighting! I?ll take a hundred of them with me!

As another surge of pain throbbed through her head she winced, both at the pain and at the memory of what had happened next. BATS! Seemingly hundreds of them, all of them diving at her eyes and making her effectively blind. She could hear her enemies moving in, but she could not see them. Still, striking out blindly, she had managed to hit at least one more before a white-hot explosion at the back of her head had knocked her unconscious?the last thing she had seen before everything faded to black was a huge, beastly form, shouting orders?

?Come, come, open your eyes, Adventurer?or should I tell my minions to force them open??

Feyne opened her eyes slowly, and saw the Beast clearly for the first time. A slim, handsome face, the sneer of the mouth belying the handsome features: the tremendous, stocky body: the powerful, clawed legs: and arms and hands of a surprising delicacy and fineness. One of those hands moved up, and gave her a mocking wave.

?Ah, very good. I was beginning to think we might have to have dinner on you, after all?and that would be such a waste! What? Ah, no, you would not like eating my heart, my girl ??

- He can read my thoughts! Feyne thought, amazed ?

?Yes, I can read most of your thoughts, even that last one in which you thought how much fun it would be to roast and eat my own heart. But even normal Daedra Hearts are not good eating for humans, and I am not a normal Daedra?as you will soon see!?

The Beast turned, and spoke to his creatures. Feyne heard one of them scuttle away.

?Yes?I am a very special Daedra, and one who feeds on very special food as well. But I pride myself on being more refined than those who eat of the flesh?though I have to feed flesh to my creatures! Slaves, like you humans, eat flesh to live, but I eat thoughts and emotions. And just as you use various types of flesh and fruit to make yourselves stronger and healthy, so too I use various thoughts and emotions to do the same thing for myself. I keep various human slaves, just as you keep cattle and fowl, before eating them: and like you eat of their flesh, so too I eat of their minds and souls.
And as you have begun to guess after reading the Arcanum Necrotica, I have begun the process of making what you humans call ?Zombies? to be my servants. They need constant supervision and die quickly, but while they live they are much more reliable than my cleverer, but greedy and untrustworthy living human servants. ?

?So that?s the reason for the killings in Vivec! But why the hearts? And why did you leave those things in the heart cavity??

? Ah yes, the hearts! I need the hearts to animate my Zombies, and as for those trinkets, I left them so that your Ordinators would go insane on a wild-goose chase looking for meaning in those meaningless clues?it was so amusing, and so nutritious, too, to see and feed on the thoughts and emotions of those Ordinators who were racking their brains trying to find out the meaning of those useless clues I left behind. There was only one ordinator who saw beyond my trap, and he is dead now, thanks to you! Yes, yes?I mean Orlanc! Aha, you are shocked! Yes, it was Orlanc who, piece by piece, was putting together the threads which could have shown him who I was and what I was doing?and so he had to die. Did you know that he was in love with you? No, I thought not!
What a pleasure it was, that it was you who gave Orlanc his death-blow?and that you had to fall in love with my Zombie, Keeting, as well! Now, now, do not strain against the ropes?it is useless. Besides, I need to thank you for something?you will see yourself, soon enough?ah yes! Keeting is here!?

Feyne?s mind in now a seething maelstrom of shock, despair, rage and a bone-chilling hate that seems to blot out all rational thought. She knows, now, that she has been duped not once, but twice: first into falling in love with a Zombie ? she spat and shuddered, remembering the times she had kissed Keeting ? and then into doing the Beast?s work for him by killing Orlanc ? she shuddered, again, thinking of Orlanc?s last acts.

Orlanc. He had been in love with her. He was on the right track, suspecting Zombie making, and he had picked up Keeting?s strange behavior at once. Even as he lay dying under her sword stroke, his last thought had been to protect her?and to warn her against Keeting!

As if the thought was father to the reality, the grinning face of Keeting came into view?but it was a changed Keeting. No longer weak or grey faced, he looked, on the contrary, blooming with health. With both hate and shock Feyne saw that he now had all four arms and legs, though one could see that they were a different colour?Orc limbs!

?Yes, my little Adventurer?I have reanimated Keeting, and for that I thank you! Having killed one of my Orc Servants, I have grafted his limbs to Keeting?s body?and for his new heart, I have used the heart of your Orlanc! That is why I thank you. From your copy of the Arcanum Necrotica, I have got the last clues I needed on how to recharge a Zombie. And of course, if you had not slain Orlanc, I would not have got a powerful new heart for Keeting! His heart is thrice as strong as normal, I felt it even when I first held it?Keeting will live at least another three months now, and with the knowledge I have gained from you, those three months will be very, very profitable indeed!
So now, how shall I reward you for my new knowledge and puppet? Ah, I know?you never made love with Keeting yet, right? Well, I can make up for that now?Keeting! Let us put those new limbs and old head and body of yours to good use, shall we??

?AAAARGH YOU MONSTER?BURN IN ETERNITY?S FLAMES FOREVER YOU BEASTS!!!?

(to be concluded in the next installment)



(AND THE FINALE WILL BE SLAM BANG WHAMMMMMO!!!! )

[syko]

Well I've caught up, and it just keeps getting better and better. I cant possibly imagine what you have in store next, but im sure it will be even more unexpected and even better than you claim! Since raggidman and I seem to be the only vocal fans, I'll take the liberty of speaking for the mute masses by saying we await the next installment eagerly.

I dont catch very many errors while I read, but I do tend to analyze whats being said, so I figured I would point this out;

?Yes, I can read most of your thoughts, even that last one in which you thought how much fun it would be to roast and eat my own heart. But even normal Daedra Hearts are not good eating for humans, and I am not a normal Daedra?as you will soon see!?

While thats a great reply showing the Beast's vehement wit and powers, it is important to note that Daedra hearts in Oblivion actually do possess the 'Restore Health' alchelemical ability, so they actually are good for dining upon. While I doubt most people would care, I figured you would want to know.

Keep up the good work. :goodjob:

[D.Foxy]

First of all, Syko, OOOOOPS and thank you! DFoxy dropped the ball there!

*Hmmm I seem to be missing one of my balls*

:lmao:

Ah but I keep spoiling the mood of my Vampire/Zombie Story. Now faithful readers, cast thine minds back into horror and anticipation, because HERE IS THE SALM BANG WHAMMO ENDING I promised you!!!






As the grinning Keeting comes closer to the tied Feyne, she brings blood to her wrists and ankles by her frantic struggles. Her voice is a constant snarl, and her eyes seem to start out of her head in her rage and revulsion. The boy comes closer, and as his face approaches her Feyne, rearing her head back like a snake, jerks forward, spitting, and tries to bite him. Shaking his head, the boy speaks.

? Her head free won?t do?I?ll have to tie her head first?

As he moves behind the cross with a piece of cloth, The Beast looks into her eyes and laughs.

?Ah, Keeting now is remarkable! I am not controlling him now, I don?t need to?since I recharged him with Orlanc?s heart he has become not only thrice as strong, but many times more intelligent that my average Zombie! Since I don?t have to control him directly any more, I can now devote my full mind-attention to savouring your pain while you are raped?the more physical and psychic pain you feel, the more I can feed from it, and the stronger I will grow ? ?

Feyne?s whole body suddenly grows rigid. She thinks she can feel the ropes on her right hand loosening ? for a moment she wonders if her mind, under the strain of the Beast?s taunting, has finally snapped. Even as she wonders, however, she feels a corresponding weakening of the tightness in her left hand ? The Beast suddenly notices the amazement in her mind -

? What are you wondering at? What ??

?AAAH! MASTER! The Bitch is using a Summon Spell! STOP HER! Protect me!!?

?WHAT? That is impossible, no Magic except mine can work in this enchanted sanctuary ? I shall look deeper into her mind ??

Time slows down.

As if in a dream, Feyne sees Keeting run away from behind the cross, towards his Master the Beast. At the same time she feels the tremendous power of the full force of the Beast?s mind as it smashes into her own, incredulous that she is attempting the impossible. His whole attention is on her now, he does not notice as his creature, Keeting, runs past him and picks up an Ordinator sword. Keeting spins on his heel, and behind the staring Beast?s back, jumps high into the air, the sword held like a dagger pointing down ?

Through her eyes, the Beast suddenly glimpses his danger. With a roar he twists around, one hand flying up to defend himself, and so fast is the Beast that he even manages to catch the sword as it is driven down with all the power that Keeting?s new Orc arms can muster. But an Ordinator?s sword is sharp enough to shave with, and the razor tip slices through the palm of the Beast?s hand and continues, driven by the whole weight of Keeting?s body, into the right eye of the Beast.

With a roar of rage and pain the Beast pushes the boy away with his other hand, and brings up his hugely powerful foot to kick him with his razor claws. But Keeting has somersaulted away, and is now running to a weapons chest in a corner. As the beast pulls out the sword from his hand and eye socket, Keeting pulls out a Daedric dagger. He charges the Beast.

And the Beast smiles.

Still smiling, he flips up the sword, catches it by the tip like a knife, and throws it deliberately at Feyne.

Without an instant?s hesitation Keeting swerves in his charge, and throws his body in front of Feyne. The sword, razor-sharp, goes into his back and comes out through his chest in front: he is stopped as if he had hit a brick wall. Even with one arm hanging useless and blood streaming from one empty eyesocket, the Beast is laughing?Keeting slumps forward, but instead of falling he slashes with his dagger, left, right, freeing her legs from the ropes. She is completely free now.

?Take the sword, too! And remember, only Daedric weapons can really hurt him!?

One part of her mind has registered that Keeting is speaking in Orlanc?s voice now, but she has no time to wonder. The Daedric dagger is in her left hand now, and she reaches down Keeting?s back and locates the hilt of the Ordinator sword by feel, her eyes never leaving the Beast. Pulling out the sword from the boy?s body, she confronts the Beast, double-armed. She senses that the Beast is summoning his creatures, and she knows that she must defeat the Beast before they arrive.

Crossing her hands in front of her body, she flashes them apart, throwing both weapons at once ? but it is a feint, the weapons do not actually leave her hands. As she expected, the Beast responds by using his powerful legs to jump up and away. When the Beast is in the air and unable to maneuver at all, she throws the sword, hard, at his chest. As his one good hand automatically goes down to deflect the flying sword, his face is now unprotected. Feyne throws the Dagger straight at his one good eye.

Her aim is true, and the Beast is now blinded.

Roaring, the Beast plucks out the Daedric dagger from his eye, and crouches. Feyne runs toward the weapons chest. There must be some other weapons there ?

Yes! She plucks another Daedric dagger from the chest, and turns ? only to see the Beast finishing the final hand gesture of a teleportation spell ?

?COWARD COME BACK!!!?

But the Beast is gone. Teleported to a place unknown. Feyne spins around to face the entrance to the room, waiting for the Beast?s minions ?

?They won?t come?the Zombies die when their Master leaves, and his human underlings are now running too?you are now safe?well done, my girl.?

Feyne now looks at the fallen boy, now slumped down in a widening pool of blood. He grins crookedly at her.

?ORLANC? But how?how??

??through my heart?I used that last piece of my living flesh for my soul to come back, and take control of Keeting?s body...Ha, the Beast never suspected?we did well, didn?t we? I tricked him, and you?ve wounded him...now I can finally die??

?NO! OH NO, NOT AGAIN! ORLANC! ORLANC! DON?T LEAVE ME NOW!?

?Master leaves, Zombies die. That?s how it works. I feel I?m going now?goodbye, my love??

?NOOOOO! NOOOO!?

?Hey?Heheh...One last joke before I go?come here, girl...ahh...listen...?

?Oh Orlanc?ORLANC!?

?I?m the only.. lover... born who died for his beloved?TWICE. Get it? Heh heh?Ahh...bye, my love??

There is quiet in the cave. The grotesque body of the Boy/Orc Zombie is still. As is the figure of Feyne, crouching over him.

And then, from her throat, comes a deep and heartrending howl unlike that of a woman, or even human. It is the howl of a tortured beast.






EPILOGUE

? So how far Is our Boss Mr. ?Always Hiding?, hey? I don?t fancy lugging this sack with ten glass jars of pickled human hearts all the way from Sheogorath to Hla Oad, or wherever the Oblivion he is!?

?Ah, shut up, you Argonian whiner?now I know why they call you ?Talk-till-Doom?. For the money he?s already paid us, and is going to pay us when we deliver the goods, I?d lug your sack from one end of Tamriel to another, if need be! If you don?t like it, then leave! I?ll do your share of the work, and I?ll also take your share of the money when we meet him!?

?Leave? Now? Not bloody likely I will?I might become one of the Beauty?s scalps!?

?Yes, I?ve heard that name, but I don?t really know about her. Who is she, anyway??

?Ha! That shows we Argonian whiners know more than you Renegade Imperials! For your information, Sera high and mighty, she?s a mystery woman who goes around killing people like us?and for some strange reason, she never collects the bounties, either. It seems she doesn?t like the Law or us, equally! They say she?s death on wheels with any kind of weapon?and that she has a face so full of scar tissue you can hardly see any soft flesh! ?

?Well, if that?s true that?s one face I never want to see ??

A voice, female, quiet yet powerful, spoke behind them.

?Then you?ll just have to continue looking straight ahead, won?t you, scum??

With a shriek the two minions of the Beast sprang in different directions, but two flying bolos came out of the night to wrap around their legs. Talk-till-Doom twisted around as he fell to see his companion?s head being pulled back by a figure clothed in black behind him: then a flash of steel, and he saw the head part company with the body. The dark figure put the head in a sack slung over her shoulder, and walked unhurriedly towards him.

?MERCY! MERCY, O BEAUTY! I?LL TELL ALL I KNOW!?

The dark figure stood over him, and laughed ontemptuously.

?Shut up and listen, you sniveling lizard?I?m letting you keep your head. What?s in it is worthless anyway, I know that you know nothing about where your Master really is?but I think sooner or later, one of his minions will contact you about a missing shipment. When he does, tell him?tell your Master, the Beast, that Tamriel itself is not wide enough to hide. Tell him that I?m coming for him, and the deepest cave or the highest tower in Tamriel is not safe enough. You can remember that much, can?t you, filth??

?O yes have Mercy please please??

?ENOUGH! Now Get Lost before I decide to add a Lizard?s head to my collection!?

Feyne watched the rapidly diminishing figure of the Argonian, and then spoke quietly to herself.

?The Beauty is now a Beast.?

THE END...(unless by popular demand to continue)