Faceless: The Takeover (The Shapeshifters Book 1)

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Faceless: The Takeover (The Shapeshifters Book 1) Page 1

by Xaiver Morden




  THE SHAPESHIFTERS SERIES

  BOOK ONE

  XAIVER MORDEN

  All characters and events in this book fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

  Cover Art by Jozsef Vajko

  Translated by Eszter Varszegi

  Edited by Eric Wyman

  Text Copyright © 2017 Xaiver Morden

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 The Baron

  Chapter 2 Gideur

  Chapter 3 Cortel Farland

  Chapter 4 Heretics

  Chapter 5 Supper with the Bishop

  Chapter 6 The Commissioner

  Chapter 7 High Priestess of the Shadow Sisters

  Chapter 8 The Silver Mine

  Chapter 9 The Chase

  Chapter 10 Suspicious Events

  Chapter 11 The Agreement

  Chapter 12 The Twins

  Chapter 13 The Plan

  Chapter 14 The Harvest Ball

  Chapter 15 In the Shoes of a Duke

  Chapter 16 Request of an Old Friend

  Chapter 17 On the Trail of Justice

  Chapter 18 The Impostor

  Chapter 19 In Captivity

  Other books by Xaiver Morden

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Baron

  To protect our beloved ones, we needed power. For this, we needed to obtain positions where we were in leadership roles. The first step in achieving this led us to Baron Telron Muran. I had been attempting to approach him for a week but I kept being blocked, as if the gods were playing a trick on me. The hardly-aging nobleman had a habit of going hunting in the mountains near his castle. One day, I began following the nobleman and his servants. This was fairly easy. He left the varlet to watch the horses, while he, the main hunter and his guard were tracking boars deep into the woods. There was a field not too far from the servants where I was sure they would pass through when returning.

  Barely a half an hour later, my subtle hearing could identify sounds coming from the north as they whispered through the trees. Dry leaves and branches were crackling under the tanned leather boots, mingled with the sound of barking dogs. The noises grew louder and were nearing me. Soon, the silhouettes of three men emerged, just like I was expecting. The baron was looking directly at me, while I was pretending to be collecting herbs in a small basket. I was wearing a long skirt, a blouse showing just the slightest cleavage, along with a shawl tied on my head in a way the women of the area would wear it. I was searching on the ground, bent down to expose my big breasts. My blonde curly locks were seductively fluttering in the southern wind. I was hoping to raise his curiosity, as he had the reputation for being a seducer – this was how his relationship with the baroness suffered as well.

  They halted when they spotted me. The baron scratched his groin and headed towards me with confident steps. I speculated that he could have lived fifty winters or so. This was nothing for my race, but humans aged and died very quickly. Was this a joke of the gods, or was this predetermined? His shoulder-length, dark brown hair was beginning to turn grey with age. He used to be a handsome man, but age had left its mark on him carving wrinkles into his forehead and around his eyes. And although he was stout around the edges, he was still in very good shape. He was wearing an olive-brown leather jerkin, loose baize trousers and cape, with comfortable horse-riding boots. He made the impression of an experienced, confident man, who had already endured quite a number of fights in his life. The grim, armed man behind him was wearing chainmail armor and a chainmail coif on his head, his one eye was covered by a deer leather eyepatch. A massive great sword was on his back. His only healthy eye was scouring the area, looking for signs of danger. I would not have liked to get into a fight with him and based on his movements, he must have been a skilled swordsman. The other, a squab man, was wearing a pointed cap and carrying a long bow with a quiver and arrows made of kestrel feathers. They were indulging in conversation with the baron as they were approaching me, laughing out loud as they spoke. Half a dozen wrinkled-faced bloodhounds were snooping on the ground beside them. I straightened up as the men came close, holding the basket tight in my lap. I made eye-contact with the baron. The dogs started barking madly as they arrived near me. I hated those bastards for their excellent scent. They could always smell me; their sensitive noses could always tell me apart from humans.

  “Darian, make those dogs of your stop! They will frighten this little beauty here!” shouted the baron.

  “Shut up you bastards! Don’t bark now! You should have smelled the boar, not this poor girl!” the man kicked the dogs to show them who was in control.

  The dogs yowled, then fell silent. How would the men have known that their dogs only wanted to warn their owners that they were not talking to a human, but instead something ancient and much more dangerous? The nobleman welcomed me kindly.

  “Greetings, my beautiful lady! My apologies for what has happened. My name is Baron Telron Muran, Lord of Yandor Province. I know the most of the people who inhabit this land, yet I have never seen you. Where do you come from, pretty girl?” he was smiling at me kindly as he greeted me, while thoroughly eyeing my body with his sky blue eyes.

  “Greetings, my lord,” I bowed courteously, following every etiquette. “My name is Trakiana Elgoth, I come from Zuglo. It is around half a day’s walk from here, your lordship. That must be the reason that you have never seen me.”

  “For what reason have you come this far away from your home, my darling?”

  “The reason is, my lord, that I am collecting herbs that grow only in this area for my kin. I do hope this does not bother you, my lord.”

  “It would be no problem, if everything on this land weren’t my property that can be only used with my permission – without that it is considered a theft. I was not informed that someone from Zuglo sought to collect herbs,” he rubbed his chin and swallowed as he was looking at my breasts with increasing lust.

  I knew what he was trying to achieve, so I agreed to play his game. It was practically like reading his thoughts; it was simple. For whom customs are a second nature, as for the baron, it was not difficult for me to predict his next steps. Whenever he had the opportunity, he humped all the young girls he could. This was common knowledge in the area, so it didn’t take much time to hear it on the grapevine. That’s why I decided to appear in the body of a young, pretty farm girl. I supposed he was afraid that he would soon lose his manly powers and his floppy manhood would serve for nothing else other than peeing.

  “I apologize, my lord, for not requesting permission, I wasn’t aware that I should have. I am sure there is a way to compensate you for my lack of knowledge,” I was smiling lustfully, licking my lips as a clear sign of my intentions.

  The baron poked the eye-patched lad with his elbow, smiled and bent closer to me.

  “Well, there is a way to compensate me, my dear.”

  He took my basket and threw it on the ground, gripping my waist to pull me close to him. He stroked my face with his rough palms and kissed me, letting his lustful desires gain control over him. I returned his vehement approach with a sensual tongue fight. I could feel as his manhood hardened with desire. I detested when I had to do this with another race, but I was ready and willing to sacrifice everything to reach my goal, even if I had to go through Hell's deepest pit to reach it.

 
“Hrindel, Darian, go back to the horses. And take those mutts with you! I will follow you as soon as I’m done with this gorgeous little girl,” he commanded his guard and the chief hunter.

  His men were standing by soundless, smiling joyfully. They nodded and left promptly together with the barking dogs, obeying the order of their lord. This was not the first time this had happened. Kissing passionately, we quickly tore the clothes from each other.

  “There is nothing more beautiful than doing it in nature! Am I right, Trakiana?”

  “You are, my lord, I think the same,” I answered what his lecherous mind wanted to hear.

  “How horny you are, sweetheart,” he said, kissing my big breasts.

  “And I am just about to start,” I pushed the baron down the ground, pressing my body on his.

  In the moments of lustful pleasure, as I was sitting on the lap of the baron, I started the transformation. The body of the young girl that I was began to change rapidly. My big breasts retracted and became a muscular chest, my shoulders widened and strengthened, my blonde hair shortened and turned short and greyish brown. Thick stubble covered my face, my whole body became hairy and sturdy, my genitals transformed as I altered into a man. The whole process ended within seconds. I copied the baron’s body to the last detail, those couple of minutes that we talked and made love were enough for me to observe him well. He was taken aback so much that his body turned to stone and his manhood flagged instantly. Taking this opportunity, I covered his mouth with one hand, looking for my dagger from the tiny basket lying next to me, hidden under the herbs.

  “Fie on you, my lord, have you never seen yourself in the mirror?” I was smiling cynically, talking to him in his own voice.

  “For all the gods, what are you and what do you want from me?” his words were filled with fear as he shouted.

  “Hush!” I snapped at him, holding the dagger at his neck.

  “It doesn’t matter who I am. You will do exactly as I tell you! I am going to touch your forehead with my hand, and if you try to resist, I will stab you and leave you to bleed like a stuck pig! Am I clear?” I stared at him with sinister eyes.

  “Okay, okay, calm down!” he swallowed with his eyes wide open.

  He must have been sorry for letting his guards go but it was too late to be sorry. Suddenly, he grabbed my hand with the dagger and turned me on my back. I was surprised at the old turd, I wouldn’t have thought he was still so fast.

  “I am a veteran of the battle of Velrond Valley, and I am going to beat the shit out of you, whatever you are, you bastard!” he shouted at me, hitting my face vehemently with his fist.

  Within an instant, I grew a new arm from my body and hit him in the throat. He immediately gave up fighting and I kicked him off me as he was grasping for breath.

  “You could surprise me once, but I will not let you do that again!” I reacted with all tranquillity. My jaw was smarting from the kicks it had endured but I did not care. I sat on his chest and explained the situation again, wagging my head.

  “I am telling you once again, Baron Telron, if you make another such attempt, I will take out your intestines, right here, right now! If I were you, I would not even dare to move as I can promise you that what awaits you won’t be pleasant.”

  I placed my palms on the baron’s forehead, who was still catching his breath. I could feel that he was in agonizing pain and memories lined up in his mind which I read like an open book. The most important moments of his life appeared before him. His carefree childhood, his parents, his first love, good friends, arch enemies, his wife, the birth of his child. Even the first life he took, when he was a youngster, or the time he slayed a boar for the first time after shooting three arrows into the animal thrusting a spear into its heart. All of these moments flashed before his eyes. All his past flashed in front of his eyes and got stored in my memory. All it took was a couple of minutes. When I lifted my hands, he became nauseous, a typical reaction to this kind of transformation. Not even his own mother could have been able to tell us apart.

  “Thank you, your lordship. I have learned everything I needed to know.”

  I swiftly stabbed him in the throat and watched as he fell to the ground, choking from the blood splashing out of his mouth, staring back at me with those wide, blue eyes. He wasn’t the first human whose throat I had cut, and he was surely not the last one.

  “I am sorry, my lord, but you could not have thought that I would keep you alive after all that you’ve seen, could you? Now that you have seen me transform! You humans are so naive – although I can be convincing, I have to admit,” I was smiling at him.

  Those were the last words he heard in his life. The glow vanished from his eyes, his hands withered, and the last spark of life left his body. I found the moment of death interesting. That mysterious, almighty power that used to control the body ceased to exist, not leaving anything behind but a handful of flesh and bone. The blood gathered in a large puddle surrounding his body. In possession of all the baron’s memories and his physical body, nobody will ever recognize me. I had obtained many various skills and knowledge over the years with the same method. I was storing memories of dozens of my victims, humans, elves, orcs, all kinds of creatures that I had encountered. Now my almost endless memory storage was increased by one more set of memories. The elders of my race were storing memories of hundreds of species, attaining an enormous amount of knowledge.

  I thoroughly cleaned the blood from my dagger in the grass. I made the wounds on my face disappear. It was easy. All I had to do was to concentrate on them to vanish, like they had never been there. I put on the clothes and jewels of the baron, and put on his pure gold noble seal-ring which was decorated with the letter “M” to mark his family name. I took my opal blue crystal ball which was the size of my hand. The beams of the summer sun glittered on its smooth surface. I was holding the secret magic tool of my race.

  “Zriv al zund,” I said. When I whispered the words of my mother tongue, the ball glowed in a violet blue colour, soon showing the face of a middle-aged man. A shapeshifter always recognizes its siblings no matter what shape they take at the moment. We always know who lies behind the mask.

  “Brother! I have successfully taken the form of Baron Telron Muran. I have completely seized his memories, disguised as one of the best friends of Duke Orlond. I am continuing the mission, according to the plans. What about you?”

  “Don’t worry, brother End’horis, everything happens according to the plans, there are no distractions. You know me, I always resolve the difficulties that might occur. My disguise is perfect, no one has the slightest suspicion,” he answered in his deep voice.

  “It is good to hear, Randar, that everything happens according to plan. If I learn something important, I will notify you. Now, I have to hurry before the servants begin to suspect something.”

  “Be careful, even the slightest mistake might...” the face in the crystal ball responded.

  “I am aware of that. May Andor guide you on your way,” he disappeared and the light in the ball vanished.

  Luckily, there was an alchemist among my previous victims, master Elekoth, who was acquainted with the secrets of preparing many strange compounds like strong acids. I took a tiny, spinach green vial and poured its content on the naked, decayed body, together with the woman’s clothes. The powerful acid immediately started to destroy the flesh, and within a few minutes, the body of the former baron became unrecognizable. The murder left no witnesses, except for the birds chirping on the trees, all of whom kept my secret.

  As the traces were covered up, it was time for me to return to the horses and the servants of the baron before they begin to suspect something. I started walking with haste and before long, I spotted them. The young varlets were feeding their horses on the grass indulging in a conversation with the armed guard and the hunter. They all fell silent when they saw me.

  “Sir, back to the castle?” the one-eyed warrior broke the silence.

  “Yes,
Hrindel, get back in the saddle! There has been enough excitement for today,” I brushed my fingers through my grey hair and sighed. We sat on the freshly fed, rested horses and headed back to the castle in silence.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Gideur

  The horses were going at foot-pace on the path in the woods. Me and the One Eyed soldier were leading the group, followed by the chief hunter with the dogs and the varlets. The memories of Telron revealed how my new guard had lost his eye. Nearly ten years ago, at the battle of Velrond Valley, he jumped in front of the baron to protect him from a crossbow bolt, which ended up piercing his eye. He survived the wound, and in recognition of his selflessness and courage, Telron appointed him to be his personal guard, a position which he had fulfilled dutifully ever since. I knew which direction the castle was, so I rode confidently at the head of the team.

  “How was the little girl, my lord?” a warrior beside me was asking nosily.

  I pulled my left eyebrow as I turned towards him in the saddle. I had to behave the same way the baron would have, and he would have liked to talk about his adventure.

  “A gentleman does not share such things, Hrindel.”

  “I apologize my lord, I didn’t mean to…”

  “But-” I interrupted him. “Truth must be told, she was narrow and wet... really wet,” I laughed aloud.

  He joined me in my laugh, not even suspecting that I was referring to the big puddle of blood that surrounded his lord not long ago, just as I took his life. I would have liked to see whether One Eye would have laughed the same way, had I transformed into that blonde girl he had met not that long ago at that field in the woods.

  About half an hour had passed when Rockclaw appeared on the mountain top in front of our eyes. The name derived from the five towers reaching up to the sky that resembled arched claws. If the builders had consciously designed it this way, they did an excellent job. One could oversee the whole area from its windows. We were marching uphill on the steep rocks as we were approaching the fortress. Its grey stone walls and towers were rising towards the sky as if they were commanding the visitors to pay respect. It wasn’t too big, providing for only a couple hundred inhabitants. However, it could have resisted the siege of a troop of thousands, for weeks, if not months. It was situated alongside the southern borders of the mountainous duchy of Therwold, neighbouring the orcish kingdom of Birwulf.

 

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