A/N: Charm spells: making you talk like an Oblivion NPC. That's how you know they are evil.

There's an interesting dichotomy in the game between a)vampires as near-invincible illusionists and b)vampires as crazed creatures that are easily killed with fire spells.

Chapter 21

"Do you hear something?" Agronak said. He stood beside the brazier, watching the dead man's bones crumble in the flames. In the normal course of things it takes some time to burn up an entire human corpse, but magical fires are somewhat hotter and certainly hungrier than the conventional kind. The stench, unfortunately, is the same. Agronak tried not to breathe in the smoke.

LoAmai turned toward the East, lowering her head. She stood near the bulk of the ruin so that she was not silhouetted against the West and the sunset. "No."

"I guess I imagined it," Agronak said. He squinted. The sun was still above the horizon, and the uneven glare made it hard for him to see. He might have seen some twitching movement in the long grass, or it might be his eyes playing tricks on him. Probably all this dying I've been doing lately. Preys on the nerves, he thought dryly.

It was about that time that the sphere of green mana flew out of the grass and knocked LoAmai sprawling. Agronak drew and turned in one fluid motion, but the unseen spellcaster was as fast as he was. The next spell hit him full in the face. He staggered a step, then paused as a warm, relaxed feeling shot through his veins. Why was he holding a sword, again? He sheathed it. Someone was walking out of the grass. Someone not too tall, in a dark cloak and a hood.

"Hey," Agronak said genially. "You were invisible." He could tell he wasn't thinking very clearly, but it didn't matter. The stranger would fix it.

"Indeed I was," said the human. Only he wasn't. Agronak had very good hearing, and the sound of someone speaking without drawing breath is distinctive to a knowing ear.

"And you're Undead," Agronak said.

"You're very observant, for an Orc," said the stranger. He seemed to find the thought amusing. Agronak smiled in spite of himself. The vampire went over and nudged LoAmai with his foot. She didn't move. Agronak had a feeling this should worry him, but he couldn't imagine why.

"Well, yes," Agronak said. "I'm only half Orc. My father was a vampire, like you. I doubt whether it's entirely that, though. My mother didn't miss much."

"How very nice for you. Pity she didn't manage to pass down her magicka resistance. Your father obviously was not a Breton, or you would not have succumbed nearly so easily to a charm spell."

"He was Imperial," Agronak said helpfully. "I'm afraid I've always been bad with Illusion. LoAmai is, too."

"By this I assume you mean the charming gentlem – I beg your pardon. The charming lady at my feet?"

"That's her. She hates mages," Agronak added helpfully.

"Yes, I see." The vampire drew a slim dagger from his belt and knelt beside the Dremora. "Come kneel over here, will you?"

Agronak went to kneel beside the stranger. The vampire handed him several corked cylinders of glass. Each one was bound with a piece of twine, so that it could be hung from a belt. "What are you going to do?" Agronak asked.

"Oh, I'm going to fill my blood vials from her veins, and then I'm going to drink her dry. After that I rather think I shall kill you. How does that suit?"

"Fine," Agronak said. He was now starting to get an inkling that something was seriously wrong, but his lips weren't cooperating with his brain. "Be sure and burn the body. I'm bad at staying dead. I don't think LoAmai will like that, though."

"Yes, it's unfortunate, but there's nothing for it if I'm going to collect the reward."

"Reward?" Agronak said.

"The Guard Commander was rather insistent that I bring back your head. You seem to have upset him," the stranger said, in a tone of mild disapproval.

"Well, we did kill several of his men," Agronak said judiciously. "And some mages. That was partly Barsabas, but I don't suppose the Commander would care."

"Who, pray tell, is Barsabas?" The vampire rolled back one of the Dremora's sleeves and made a neat puncture, then held a vial over the spurting artery. He handed it to Agronak with the cork. The glass was hot enough to nearly burn his fingers.

"He's a zombie," Agronak said as he corked the vial and gave the vampire another one. "No Claws used to summon him, but he's learned to summon himself now. He's very quick. Used to fight in the Arena."

"Like you?"

"Yes, I killed him, actually," Agronak said. "It was a near thing, though. Still have the scars on my face. No Claws must've dug him up right after they buried him." He thought that over. "Can't have been easy, for somebody as small as she is. She's not very strong."

"Perhaps I will pay her a visit," said the vampire.

"Oh, I wouldn't," Agronak said. "She's a mage, and Barsabas sees things. They'll be harder to sneak up on than I was."

"Duly noted." The vampire shook the fingers of his right hand suddenly, then handed another filled vial to Agronak. "Rather warm, isn't it? One does hear things about the properties of daedric blood. I think I will have you try it first."

"Never did me any harm before," Agronak said.

"Oh, so you have been diverting yourself with the Dremora?" said the vampire.

"Not exactly," Agronak said. "I've never actually drunk it before."

"Then do try some now." The vampire handed Agronak another vial. Something deep inside screamed futilely in protest, and then Agronak tossed it off in one gulp. Fire spread down his throat, sharper than any liquor ever brewed and hot as boiling water. He made a choked sound and dropped the vial. The blood of a daedra, especially a paralyzed and very angry one, does indeed have properties of its own, and Agronak still had Dremora blood left in his veins from recent experiences. The new called to the old, and both caught fire and burned him. He folded up, groaning.

"Hm," said the vampire's voice. "Perhaps I won't drink it after all. You're not looking at all well. I suppose it may save me the trouble of killing you, but since I was planning rather to enjoy myself…"

The demon magicka hit the charm spell like a hot iron striking water. It left him suddenly, painfully lucid, abashed and infuriated at what he had done. Agronak shook his head, snarling, and then he drew his sword and jabbed at the vampire's chest. It missed by a hair as the stranger dodged. He rolled to his feet and fired off another green spell. Agronak was ready for it this time. He slid aside, and the mana puffed harmlessly on the broken stone paving. Agronak straightened up, panting.

"You unutterable, cowardly bastard," he said.

"Now that really is not an Orcish thing to say," said the vampire chidingly. "I kill things for a living. How I do it doesn't concern me. The final result is the same." They circled each other warily.

"You know what I'm going to do to you?" Agronak said.

"Nothing whatsoever," said the vampire calmly. "No half-breed ever born nor made is the equal of Negrin Ravenclaw. And you'll have no help from the demon. That spell will hold for an hour yet, and she'll be considerably weaker by that time."

Then he was forced to duck as an arrow whistled over his head. Agronak did not take his eyes from Ravenclaw as he smiled grimly. "Wrong," Agronak said.

"An impressive recovery," Negrin Ravenclaw said. "Even so, y - " He paused to spin gracefully away from Agronak's stab at his legs, his cloak flying out behind him. Two more arrows barely missed him. The third one hit him in the upper arm. A bright flame of mana blossomed at the point of impact. Negrin pulled it out, then staggered, a disbelieving expression on his face.

"The point is made of wood," said LoAmai. "Dipped in the blood you were so eager to drink."

"Very… Clever…" Negrin Ravenclaw fell to his knees. Very dark blood ran from the wound, faster than seemed warranted by the size of the hole. Agronak stepped forward and jerked the man's hood back, then seized him by his long black hair. Ravenclaw reached weakly for a dagger, but Agronak kicked it away.

"LoAmai," he said.

"Yes, Agronak." She padded up beside him, another arrow at the ready. Her hand was gory, but she seemed to have no trouble gripping the bow.

"You recall the conversation we had, in which you speculated on the taste of vampire blood?"

She smiled a lupine smile, baring her jagged teeth. "I do."

"Care to try some?"

"Yes," said the demon. "I would."