Reward, Chapter 4
Chapter Four: Revelation
"Spike!" Mandy startled awake from a harrowing dream. After tossing and turning for half an hour, and staring at the ceiling for another fifteen minutes, she decided to go upstairs. Maybe some nice boring research would help her sleep. She let herself into the apartment and booted up Spike's computer. Then she typed "dragon" into the search engine in his database and started scanning entries.
Spike wandered into the room, hair mussed, bare-chested, zipping his jeans and lighting a cigarette. Oh, my, Mandy thought, fanning herself mentally. Stop that. Bad Mandy. He's your Watcher. But...oh my. "Mornin', luv," he said sleepily. "What's got you up?"
"I had a dream," she answered, shoving those thoughts back in their closet.
"Really?" he said, pulling up a chair, turning it around, and sitting on it backwards. "Do tell. Slayer dreams are powerful things. They can be prophetic."
Mandy made a face. "Well, I hope this one isn't. Because I think you died in it."
"Zat so?" Spike found that disturbing, but put on his patented smirk. "Well, I've been around for quite some time. Would have to be something out of the ordinary to take me out."
She pointed to the computer screen. "Is this out of the ordinary enough?"
He came around and looked over her shoulder. "What the bloody hell is that?"
"It's a Malchorvian Hydra. And it was the dragon in my dream."
"Eight feet tall, two heads, horns, wings, and poisonous claws and teeth," Spike read. "At least it doesn't breathe fire. And it seems small for a dragon. How do you kill it?"
"It doesn't say."
"Oh, that's just great. Well, no sense borrowing trouble. If one comes along we'll deal with it, right, pet?"
"Right, luv," she mocked him. But her thoughts were dark and troubled.
***
"Whoa," Mandy murmured a few days later, leaning back in her chair and staring at the book in front of her. It was research time at Slayer Central.
"What is it, poodle?" Spike asked absently, studying his own.
She closed the book, keeping her place with her finger. "Look at what I'm reading."
"What, that old thing? A bunch of monks wrote it fifteen hundred years ago. What's giving you the wiggins?"
She opened it back to her place and pointed. "This. What does this mean? 'Should the Drinker of Blood who won his Soul taste the Harvest of the Spring from the Most Holy Vessel, then shall he reap the Breath of Life.' That's a translation, but you get the idea."
Spike's scarred eyebrow went up. "Well. Isn't that interesting? Probably another Shanshu prophecy about my dear old Grandsire. These old texts are peppered with them."
"I don't think so. He didn't 'win' his soul; he was cursed with it. Spike...this is about you."
"Me?" he scoffed. "I've lived a very long time without the Powers concerning themselves with me. Besides, it's cryptic enough, ain't it? 'Harvest of the Spring'? What in bloody hell does that mean?"
"I guess we're supposed to figure that out. Wonder what this 'Most Holy Vessel' is?
"No tellin', pet. These prophecies are vague for a reason. What else does it say?"
She ran her finger down the page, frowning. "Um. 'He must journey to the Abyss of the Sun and seek the Counsel of the Guardian.....'"
"Right," he said, rolling his eyes. "Sounds like a bunch of bollocks to me, but if you want to track it down, then go ahead."
"Ooh," she said. "A quest!"
He rolled his eyes again. "Quests are for heroes. I'm far from that."
"You rescued me--that makes you hero enough in my book," she stated seriously. "So, Shanshu...that's some sort of conversion, isn't it?"
"Yeah. Peaches got that years ago. I've lost track of him now; he's probably a grandpa by this time." Spike's mouth quirked. "'Breath of Life' sure sounds like Shanshu though, don't it?"
"Oh, sure. Because of that whole not-breathing that vampires do. That part's easy. Finding out what the Holy Cup, and the Harvest of the Spring, and all the other stuff is, those are the hard parts. And translating the rest of this."
"What, there's more? Do tell."
She frowned in concentration, and he noticed a cute little line between her eyebrows. "I'm trying to get that just right. Something about the Heart of the Chosen and the Dreams of the...Sire?" She scribbled something on a piece of paper, crossed it out, and tried again. The frown deepened, and she stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth. Half an hour later, she said, "Okay, I think I've got it. 'The Heart of the Chosen shall sustain him, and the Dreams of the Sire keep him. Both are vital for his Becoming, and to breach the Power of the Dark Ones.'" Mandy looked up at Spike. "That's it."
One line in particular caught Spike's attention. "'Dreams of the Sire'? Sounds like Dru is involved in some way then. She was loopy as a loon and always dreaming about something, even when she was awake."
"Do you know where she is? Is she even still...um...alive?"
"She's not dust; I'd know if she was. If she was anywhere near I'd sense it too. Maybe we should get on the Web and start checking news reports. Dru's never been one to keep a low profile."
Mandy moved over to the laptop. "I'm on it," she said. A few minutes later she blinked. "Whole village wiped out in Peru. News says it was a wild animal attack. Wild animals don't invade human habitations like that." She clicked the mouse a couple more times. "Um. Complex of scientists overrun in Costa Rica. Oh, here's one more recent...Here in the States. Homeless camp in Tucson just obliterated. Even the dogs were killed." She put her hand reflexively on Hansel's head, which was resting on her knee. "Looks like she's moving north. And west. Yuma was hit too."
"Headed this way," Spike said grimly.
***
"Spike, why are we here?" Mandy asked. The big neon sign read "Caritas," and the clientele seemed very...different, even for LA. Some of them had too many arms. Some had too many heads. Some had no head. And there were quite a few who had bumpy facial features and very sharp teeth. The sounds coming through the door were enough to make a seasoned combat veteran quail in his boots and run for cover.
Karaoke.
"You got that prophecy written down, pet? There's someone I want to show it to." Spike adjusted his guitar strap so it wasn't cutting into him so sharply.
"But this is a demon bar," she whispered.
"That it is. And you don't get to kill anyone here either. This is neutral ground. Remember that."
"Okay," she said dubiously, and they went inside.
The sight of the Slayer and the rogue vampire caused quite a stir amongst the patrons. A few got up hurriedly and left. The lumpy purple two-headed demon singing "I Got You Babe" up on stage missed a note, but picked it back up again and continued. A green demon with red horns dressed in a loud yellow checked suit greeted Spike warmly. "Hey, Spike! Long time no see!" He gestured to the bartender. "Glass of AB Negative for my friend here. Are you singing for us tonight, Spike? And who's your fr--Oh!"
Mandy, going with the flow for the moment, stuck her hand out. "I'm Mandy. Pleased to meet you...I think."
"Very pleased to meet you, sweet-cheeks. My name's Lorne. Been a long time since we've seen a Slayer in these parts. Will you be gracing us with a song as well?"
"Um...I don't sing very well," she protested weakly.
"Neither does Grushnu up there," Lorne replied, gesturing at the demon up on stage, who was in the final throes of mangling his tune. "It's not about the song. It's about you. How about you two kids sing a duet?"
Mandy was close to panicking. "No! No duet! I'm not even sure I'm going to sing."
Spike was enjoying her discomfort. "Oh, come on, pet. A rousing rendition of 'You Don't Bring Me Flowers'?"
She shot him a venomous look. "Laugh it up, soul boy. What are you going to sing?"
He whispered to Lorne for a second, and Lorne nodded. "Yeah, we can do that. Give me just a few minutes to go talk to Grushnu, and then it's all yours."
Spike took his glass of blood from the bartender, nearly spilling it as Mandy grabbed his duster and dragged him to a table. "What the heck is going on here?" she whispered furiously. "What is this all about? Why is that green guy so hot to hear me sing?"
"Simple, luv. You sing, and he tells you what your destiny is."
"Oh, and how does he know that?"
Spike shrugged. "He just does. It's a thing with him."
"So...you're going to sing."
"Yes I am. And you're going to show him the prophecy--both the original and the translation." He grinned at her. "You don't have to sing if you don't want to. I was just teasin', pet."
"A blessing on us all," she said, rolling her eyes. "'Cause, old purple-and-lumpy we just heard? He ain't got nothin' on me. Ha."
Lorne slid into an empty chair next to Mandy. "You're up, big guy." Spike smirked cockily at her and made his way up to the stage, unslinging his guitar as he went. He sat on the stool provided and got set, then nodded to the demon manning the karaoke machine. As the haunting strains began, Spike strummed his guitar in rhythm with them, then began:
"I see a dark sail on the horizon, set under a black cloud that hides the sun.
"Bring me my broadsword and clear understanding.
Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman.
Get up to the round house on the cliff-top standing.
Take women and children and bed them down.
"Bring me my broadsword and clear understanding.
Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman.
Bless with a hard heart those who surround me.
Bless the women and children who firm our hands.
Put our backs to the north wind. Hold fast by the river.
Sweet memories to drive us on for the motherland."
Spike played the bridge with intensity and concentration, eyes closed, then leaned into the microphone and continued,
"I see a dark sail on the horizon, set under a black cloud that hides the sun.
So bring me my broadsword and clear understanding.
Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman.
So bring me my broadsword And my cross of gold as a talisman...."
A variety of expressions crossed Lorne's face as Spike sang, and he looked completely drained when the vampire finished. Spike was equally drained, and he collapsed into an empty chair next to Mandy and lit a cigarette. "My friend," Lorne said, "you've got some serious mojo going on there."
"Tell me about it," Spike replied. "So, give us the scoop. What's up with this prophecy and how is my loony-tunes Sire involved?"
"Well, I can't tell you all of it--" Lorne shot a look at Mandy "--because your destiny is all mixed in with the destiny of Little Miss I-Won't-Sing here. Let me see that prophecy." He looked at both the original language and Mandy's translation, and raised his eyebrows. "This is very very good. Who taught you to speak Latin?"
She blushed. "School. Spike's been helping me too."
"Spike is a vampire of many talents. Well, you've probably figured out most of it. And if I told you both all of it then the Powers would fry my gizzard." He smiled. "I can tell you this much, though. Drusilla is definitely involved--and you two are going to save her."
"Save her?" Spike took a swallow of blood. "How? And why? She doesn't really deserve saving, does she?"
Lorne gave him a stare. "Well, I don't know, Scourge of Europe. Did you deserve saving? Grace only applies to you?" Spike acknowledged the point with a chagrined nod. "However..." Lorne looked at Mandy. "I'm not going to make you sing in public if you don't want to. But you need to come over in the corner with me and sing a few bars of something. " She started to get that deer-in-the-headlights look again, and he hastened to reassure her. "No one will hear you but me, and it doesn't have to be complicated. 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' will do. C'mon, sugar-lips."
She got up and unwillingly followed him to a vacant corner. "Do I have to do this?"
"Yes you do. And believe me, it'll hurt me more than it hurts you."
"Okay....Mary had a little lamb..." she started. He nodded encouragingly at her to keep her going, even though her voice was killing him.
When it cracked in the second verse he stopped her. "That's enough. More than enough. You weren't kidding, baby." She looked hurt, then rueful.
"So, what can you tell me?"
"More than I can tell Spike over there. This is for your ears only, honey-bunch. Got that?" When she nodded, he continued. "You've had experience that vampires can't bite Christians." It wasn't a question. "Well, Spike is different. You knew that already, but you didn't know how different. And the time will come that he will have to drink your blood. It won't hurt him; it will heal him. His being a Christian vampire with a soul gives him immunity from not being able to eat Christians. However, if he knows about this now, it will seriously freak him out--so don't let him know until the time comes. And you'll know when that is."
"Oh, so it's okay to freak me out?" Mandy held up a hand. "Kidding. I gotcha. That's the 'Heart of the Chosen' part, isn't it? They mean literal heart. Figures. It's always blood."
"Always has been, babe. Ever since Cain and Abel. Adam and Eve, really. God made coverings for them from the skins of animals. And critters don't willingly give up their hides."
"Is there anything else you can tell us?" she asked.
"A couple of things. Spike can hear them too." They made their way back to the table.
"Well," Spike inquired, "did you get anything useful out of that?"
"Yes we did, but what I told her was for her alone. No fair trying to wheedle it out of her, big guy. You'll know at the proper time." Spike started to get his kicked-puppy look, and Lorne stared him down. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. None of that. However, I can tell you one detail to get you started."
"And what's that, mate?"
"The 'Abyss of the Sun'? That's Sunnydale. You have to go back. And you'll bring someone home with you."
"I have to...and see...bloody hell."
TBC...
Chapter Five
A/N: The song is "Broadsword" by Jethro Tull, from "The Broadsword and the Beast." It's not mine either...
"Spike!" Mandy startled awake from a harrowing dream. After tossing and turning for half an hour, and staring at the ceiling for another fifteen minutes, she decided to go upstairs. Maybe some nice boring research would help her sleep. She let herself into the apartment and booted up Spike's computer. Then she typed "dragon" into the search engine in his database and started scanning entries.
Spike wandered into the room, hair mussed, bare-chested, zipping his jeans and lighting a cigarette. Oh, my, Mandy thought, fanning herself mentally. Stop that. Bad Mandy. He's your Watcher. But...oh my. "Mornin', luv," he said sleepily. "What's got you up?"
"I had a dream," she answered, shoving those thoughts back in their closet.
"Really?" he said, pulling up a chair, turning it around, and sitting on it backwards. "Do tell. Slayer dreams are powerful things. They can be prophetic."
Mandy made a face. "Well, I hope this one isn't. Because I think you died in it."
"Zat so?" Spike found that disturbing, but put on his patented smirk. "Well, I've been around for quite some time. Would have to be something out of the ordinary to take me out."
She pointed to the computer screen. "Is this out of the ordinary enough?"
He came around and looked over her shoulder. "What the bloody hell is that?"
"It's a Malchorvian Hydra. And it was the dragon in my dream."
"Eight feet tall, two heads, horns, wings, and poisonous claws and teeth," Spike read. "At least it doesn't breathe fire. And it seems small for a dragon. How do you kill it?"
"It doesn't say."
"Oh, that's just great. Well, no sense borrowing trouble. If one comes along we'll deal with it, right, pet?"
"Right, luv," she mocked him. But her thoughts were dark and troubled.
***
"Whoa," Mandy murmured a few days later, leaning back in her chair and staring at the book in front of her. It was research time at Slayer Central.
"What is it, poodle?" Spike asked absently, studying his own.
She closed the book, keeping her place with her finger. "Look at what I'm reading."
"What, that old thing? A bunch of monks wrote it fifteen hundred years ago. What's giving you the wiggins?"
She opened it back to her place and pointed. "This. What does this mean? 'Should the Drinker of Blood who won his Soul taste the Harvest of the Spring from the Most Holy Vessel, then shall he reap the Breath of Life.' That's a translation, but you get the idea."
Spike's scarred eyebrow went up. "Well. Isn't that interesting? Probably another Shanshu prophecy about my dear old Grandsire. These old texts are peppered with them."
"I don't think so. He didn't 'win' his soul; he was cursed with it. Spike...this is about you."
"Me?" he scoffed. "I've lived a very long time without the Powers concerning themselves with me. Besides, it's cryptic enough, ain't it? 'Harvest of the Spring'? What in bloody hell does that mean?"
"I guess we're supposed to figure that out. Wonder what this 'Most Holy Vessel' is?
"No tellin', pet. These prophecies are vague for a reason. What else does it say?"
She ran her finger down the page, frowning. "Um. 'He must journey to the Abyss of the Sun and seek the Counsel of the Guardian.....'"
"Right," he said, rolling his eyes. "Sounds like a bunch of bollocks to me, but if you want to track it down, then go ahead."
"Ooh," she said. "A quest!"
He rolled his eyes again. "Quests are for heroes. I'm far from that."
"You rescued me--that makes you hero enough in my book," she stated seriously. "So, Shanshu...that's some sort of conversion, isn't it?"
"Yeah. Peaches got that years ago. I've lost track of him now; he's probably a grandpa by this time." Spike's mouth quirked. "'Breath of Life' sure sounds like Shanshu though, don't it?"
"Oh, sure. Because of that whole not-breathing that vampires do. That part's easy. Finding out what the Holy Cup, and the Harvest of the Spring, and all the other stuff is, those are the hard parts. And translating the rest of this."
"What, there's more? Do tell."
She frowned in concentration, and he noticed a cute little line between her eyebrows. "I'm trying to get that just right. Something about the Heart of the Chosen and the Dreams of the...Sire?" She scribbled something on a piece of paper, crossed it out, and tried again. The frown deepened, and she stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth. Half an hour later, she said, "Okay, I think I've got it. 'The Heart of the Chosen shall sustain him, and the Dreams of the Sire keep him. Both are vital for his Becoming, and to breach the Power of the Dark Ones.'" Mandy looked up at Spike. "That's it."
One line in particular caught Spike's attention. "'Dreams of the Sire'? Sounds like Dru is involved in some way then. She was loopy as a loon and always dreaming about something, even when she was awake."
"Do you know where she is? Is she even still...um...alive?"
"She's not dust; I'd know if she was. If she was anywhere near I'd sense it too. Maybe we should get on the Web and start checking news reports. Dru's never been one to keep a low profile."
Mandy moved over to the laptop. "I'm on it," she said. A few minutes later she blinked. "Whole village wiped out in Peru. News says it was a wild animal attack. Wild animals don't invade human habitations like that." She clicked the mouse a couple more times. "Um. Complex of scientists overrun in Costa Rica. Oh, here's one more recent...Here in the States. Homeless camp in Tucson just obliterated. Even the dogs were killed." She put her hand reflexively on Hansel's head, which was resting on her knee. "Looks like she's moving north. And west. Yuma was hit too."
"Headed this way," Spike said grimly.
***
"Spike, why are we here?" Mandy asked. The big neon sign read "Caritas," and the clientele seemed very...different, even for LA. Some of them had too many arms. Some had too many heads. Some had no head. And there were quite a few who had bumpy facial features and very sharp teeth. The sounds coming through the door were enough to make a seasoned combat veteran quail in his boots and run for cover.
Karaoke.
"You got that prophecy written down, pet? There's someone I want to show it to." Spike adjusted his guitar strap so it wasn't cutting into him so sharply.
"But this is a demon bar," she whispered.
"That it is. And you don't get to kill anyone here either. This is neutral ground. Remember that."
"Okay," she said dubiously, and they went inside.
The sight of the Slayer and the rogue vampire caused quite a stir amongst the patrons. A few got up hurriedly and left. The lumpy purple two-headed demon singing "I Got You Babe" up on stage missed a note, but picked it back up again and continued. A green demon with red horns dressed in a loud yellow checked suit greeted Spike warmly. "Hey, Spike! Long time no see!" He gestured to the bartender. "Glass of AB Negative for my friend here. Are you singing for us tonight, Spike? And who's your fr--Oh!"
Mandy, going with the flow for the moment, stuck her hand out. "I'm Mandy. Pleased to meet you...I think."
"Very pleased to meet you, sweet-cheeks. My name's Lorne. Been a long time since we've seen a Slayer in these parts. Will you be gracing us with a song as well?"
"Um...I don't sing very well," she protested weakly.
"Neither does Grushnu up there," Lorne replied, gesturing at the demon up on stage, who was in the final throes of mangling his tune. "It's not about the song. It's about you. How about you two kids sing a duet?"
Mandy was close to panicking. "No! No duet! I'm not even sure I'm going to sing."
Spike was enjoying her discomfort. "Oh, come on, pet. A rousing rendition of 'You Don't Bring Me Flowers'?"
She shot him a venomous look. "Laugh it up, soul boy. What are you going to sing?"
He whispered to Lorne for a second, and Lorne nodded. "Yeah, we can do that. Give me just a few minutes to go talk to Grushnu, and then it's all yours."
Spike took his glass of blood from the bartender, nearly spilling it as Mandy grabbed his duster and dragged him to a table. "What the heck is going on here?" she whispered furiously. "What is this all about? Why is that green guy so hot to hear me sing?"
"Simple, luv. You sing, and he tells you what your destiny is."
"Oh, and how does he know that?"
Spike shrugged. "He just does. It's a thing with him."
"So...you're going to sing."
"Yes I am. And you're going to show him the prophecy--both the original and the translation." He grinned at her. "You don't have to sing if you don't want to. I was just teasin', pet."
"A blessing on us all," she said, rolling her eyes. "'Cause, old purple-and-lumpy we just heard? He ain't got nothin' on me. Ha."
Lorne slid into an empty chair next to Mandy. "You're up, big guy." Spike smirked cockily at her and made his way up to the stage, unslinging his guitar as he went. He sat on the stool provided and got set, then nodded to the demon manning the karaoke machine. As the haunting strains began, Spike strummed his guitar in rhythm with them, then began:
"I see a dark sail on the horizon, set under a black cloud that hides the sun.
"Bring me my broadsword and clear understanding.
Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman.
Get up to the round house on the cliff-top standing.
Take women and children and bed them down.
"Bring me my broadsword and clear understanding.
Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman.
Bless with a hard heart those who surround me.
Bless the women and children who firm our hands.
Put our backs to the north wind. Hold fast by the river.
Sweet memories to drive us on for the motherland."
Spike played the bridge with intensity and concentration, eyes closed, then leaned into the microphone and continued,
"I see a dark sail on the horizon, set under a black cloud that hides the sun.
So bring me my broadsword and clear understanding.
Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman.
So bring me my broadsword And my cross of gold as a talisman...."
A variety of expressions crossed Lorne's face as Spike sang, and he looked completely drained when the vampire finished. Spike was equally drained, and he collapsed into an empty chair next to Mandy and lit a cigarette. "My friend," Lorne said, "you've got some serious mojo going on there."
"Tell me about it," Spike replied. "So, give us the scoop. What's up with this prophecy and how is my loony-tunes Sire involved?"
"Well, I can't tell you all of it--" Lorne shot a look at Mandy "--because your destiny is all mixed in with the destiny of Little Miss I-Won't-Sing here. Let me see that prophecy." He looked at both the original language and Mandy's translation, and raised his eyebrows. "This is very very good. Who taught you to speak Latin?"
She blushed. "School. Spike's been helping me too."
"Spike is a vampire of many talents. Well, you've probably figured out most of it. And if I told you both all of it then the Powers would fry my gizzard." He smiled. "I can tell you this much, though. Drusilla is definitely involved--and you two are going to save her."
"Save her?" Spike took a swallow of blood. "How? And why? She doesn't really deserve saving, does she?"
Lorne gave him a stare. "Well, I don't know, Scourge of Europe. Did you deserve saving? Grace only applies to you?" Spike acknowledged the point with a chagrined nod. "However..." Lorne looked at Mandy. "I'm not going to make you sing in public if you don't want to. But you need to come over in the corner with me and sing a few bars of something. " She started to get that deer-in-the-headlights look again, and he hastened to reassure her. "No one will hear you but me, and it doesn't have to be complicated. 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' will do. C'mon, sugar-lips."
She got up and unwillingly followed him to a vacant corner. "Do I have to do this?"
"Yes you do. And believe me, it'll hurt me more than it hurts you."
"Okay....Mary had a little lamb..." she started. He nodded encouragingly at her to keep her going, even though her voice was killing him.
When it cracked in the second verse he stopped her. "That's enough. More than enough. You weren't kidding, baby." She looked hurt, then rueful.
"So, what can you tell me?"
"More than I can tell Spike over there. This is for your ears only, honey-bunch. Got that?" When she nodded, he continued. "You've had experience that vampires can't bite Christians." It wasn't a question. "Well, Spike is different. You knew that already, but you didn't know how different. And the time will come that he will have to drink your blood. It won't hurt him; it will heal him. His being a Christian vampire with a soul gives him immunity from not being able to eat Christians. However, if he knows about this now, it will seriously freak him out--so don't let him know until the time comes. And you'll know when that is."
"Oh, so it's okay to freak me out?" Mandy held up a hand. "Kidding. I gotcha. That's the 'Heart of the Chosen' part, isn't it? They mean literal heart. Figures. It's always blood."
"Always has been, babe. Ever since Cain and Abel. Adam and Eve, really. God made coverings for them from the skins of animals. And critters don't willingly give up their hides."
"Is there anything else you can tell us?" she asked.
"A couple of things. Spike can hear them too." They made their way back to the table.
"Well," Spike inquired, "did you get anything useful out of that?"
"Yes we did, but what I told her was for her alone. No fair trying to wheedle it out of her, big guy. You'll know at the proper time." Spike started to get his kicked-puppy look, and Lorne stared him down. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. None of that. However, I can tell you one detail to get you started."
"And what's that, mate?"
"The 'Abyss of the Sun'? That's Sunnydale. You have to go back. And you'll bring someone home with you."
"I have to...and see...bloody hell."
TBC...
Chapter Five
A/N: The song is "Broadsword" by Jethro Tull, from "The Broadsword and the Beast." It's not mine either...