Buffy the Bowgirl, Book 1, Thread 1, Do You Know the Way to Kvatch? Options

[Acadian]

Welcome to the adventures of Buffy the Bowgirl!

My name is Acadian. Buffy is an elven mystic archer that I have the pleasure to travel Tamriel with.

This is Book 1 of her journal. It begins with Buffy being briefly incarcerated in the Imperial Prison, and ends as she attempts to bring freedom to the city of Kvatch. It is a sprawling story that will require 176 episodes, spread over five threads. Appropriately, I have nicknamed Book 1, 'Do You Know the Way to Kvatch?'

Buffy's personal journey is more important than her destination. Our writing style is character-driven. I help Buffy write her journal because I have a truckload of passion for her, not because I am a writer. We take plenty of liberties with quests and NPCs, but only few liberties with game mechanics because there is an aspect of 'how to / mystic archer guide' woven into her stories. Therefore, we tend to eschew earthly things and stick rather closely to Nirnian physics. In Buffy's world for example, a skilled archer can 'zoom in' on her target and cause her enemies to 'turn green' with poison. Buffy has never been to medieval Europe or ancient Rome, and her world does not resemble those places.

I thank you so much, should you find our humble effort earns and maintains your readership. My hope is that Buffy will worm her way into your heart, as she has mine.

Edit: Buffy has completed this book as of August 2012, and I would like to think that the reading of it is a satisfying experience - both complete as well as suggestive of sequels. For those newer readers who would like to catch up to us in one short sitting, you might find this helpful: Buffy – The Executive Summary Thread.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Oct 28 2012, 12:33 PM

[Acadian]

In Chapter 2 (part 2), Buffy witnessed the death of Uriel Septim VII in the tunnels under the Imperial Prison, then made her way to fresh air and daylight.

Rider- I'm so glad that Buffy's temperament comes through. That she can learn from Acadian is pretty straightforward; my hope was that the tail end of the previous chapter shows that Buffy is well-equipped to teach him a thing or two as well. Oh, and as pointed out by SubRosa, we also learn from Julian.

Zalphon- Thank you for those mighty kind words! The name Buffy is a blend of several themes:
1. Yes, her mother was a Bosmer merchant, but her father was a Breton vampire slayer. . . .
2. She likes alliteration: Buffy the Blond Bravilian Bosmer/Breton Bowgirl. (I figured Buffy was better than Barbie or Bambie.)
3. Buffy tells me that as a youngster, her parents couldn't keep clothes on her, especially around water. Running around 'in the buff' earned her that nickname as a child. To this day, being near waterfalls makes her clothes fall off and she can't resist a swim.
4. One must admit that Buffy is an unusual name for a TES character. My intent was that the tongue-in-cheek aspect would prevent me from taking her too seriously. In that regard, I'm afraid I have failed miserably.

Olen- I'm delighted you are still with us. Buffy is well-intentioned, but has a short attention span, so she may become easily distracted from the Emperor's task. Whimsical is a description we relish. I hope that as you continue to read and get to know her better, you might agree that 'comfort food' (coined by D.Foxy), 'cuddly like a rattlesnake' (coined by SubRosa) and even 'lethally blond' (coined by Mrs Acadian) might also apply to her.

SubRosa- Thank you, as always for the rich feedback. You are such an indispensable sounding board for how we are doing. Yes, we totally borrowed Julian's patented katana slash to the back of the legs! Speaking of borrowing, I know that you will note a tiny bit of TF in the next chapter. Thank you for the nit - agreed and fixed!

Destri- Thank you. We like the game to be recognizable, but Buffy will routinely try to ferret out underlying currents and make sense of her world. I appreciate your keen editorial eye allowing me the opportunity to fix that little typo.

Remko- Yes, fire spell + mudcrab = Rales special! In the original version, Buffy shot the crab and ate it raw. This time around, that elicited an 'Ewww!' from Mrs Acadian, so we crafted an alternative, with Rales coming to the rescue.

Wolf- Oh my. That poem really made Buffy swoon. When last I saw her she was headed for Nilawen's to see about getting a frame to put it up in her house. She sends:

* * *

3 Buffy Fights Her Way Home

I had made my way back to the Imperial City, but I was broke. To get home, I needed gold to afford ship travel down the Niben. Hopefully selling the loot I collected from my prison escape would help. Besides, I could barely carry it all.

I wondered if that amulet the Emperor gave me was worth much? Buffy! Don't even think it! He was a nice old man and entrusted me with it on his deathbed. I never actually said I would deliver the thing to this Jauffre fellow though . . . but Baurus also trusted me. I mean, he could have just killed me, taken the amulet and delivered it himself. Of course, Baurus also told me to take care of what I needed to first. Well, I needed to get home. Settled then. I would deliver the amulet - just not right now.

Wandering the Market District, I found myself in front of the same store where the. . . um, incident that landed me in prison had occurred. I hoped City Swimmer had made it home safely. The wooden sign hanging over the door was new and different. It seemed some new merchant had wasted no time buying the store and getting it back in business under a different name.

As I entered the shop, I looked at the letters beautifully carved into the wood of the massively elegant new counter: 'Copious Coinpurse - the shop where your purse is just as full after you buy!' Well, since my purse was empty I was hoping to do a little better than that.

I couldn't keep my eyes from straying to the spot on the floor where I had last seen the former owner with my arrow imbedded in his chest. I felt a sense of guilt - the blood stain was still faintly visible on the planks of the well-scrubbed wooden floor.

"I'm Thoronir. How may I help you today, sister Bosmer?" His voice was that of a smooth talking merchant, but certainly friendly enough and I returned his warm smile.

Standing eye-to-eye with Thoronir, it was refreshing not having to look up to talk to him. Sliding the goblin staff from my back and opening my pack, I replied, "I need some gold to get home and I'm hoping you can help."

Upon selling all the stuff I didn't need, I left the store, counted my gold and frowned. After picking some plants with alchemical properties that grew within the city, I found a shop called The Main Ingredient. I used some of the gold that Thoronir had given me to buy some empty vials and ingredients that would combine well with those I had just gathered. My hope was to make back my gold - and more - by selling finished potions.

After some work with my mortar and pestle, I returned to the Copious Coinpurse.

Thoronir gave me a good price on those potions, especially since I didn't need them. Finally, my rumbling stomach prompted me to buy a couple loaves of bread from him. I had almost enough gold now to book passage home to Bravil - but not quite.

Once back outside on the cobblestone street, I pondered my next move. The sun had now dipped below the tall gray walls surrounding the Market District, and shadows were beginning to claim the city for the night. I really didn't want to spend any gold on an inn, but I needed a place to sleep. Behind the Merchants Inn I found a bedroll. Unfortunately, a nearby beggar said it was hers. After explaining my plight, I asked if she had any ideas.

Her name was Simplicia. Gray hair framed a life-hardened face, but her eyes were kind. She looked at the longbow on my back that towered above the top of my head. Her gaze then shifted to above my right shoulder at the feathered tails bristling from their quiver. Finally she took my right hand in hers, opened it and examined the heavy bowstring calluses on my fingers. "I see you are no stranger to the bow. Perhaps you should join the gladiators in the Arena."

Surely she had been sleeping out in the rain too long! She responded to my skeptical look by gently placing her gnarled hand upon my forearm, "trust me dear, if you need gold quickly, the Arena's probably better and safer than the alternative."

"Which is?" I prompted.

Her eyes briefly flashed as if recalling a painful memory, then she shook her head and quietly replied, "selling yourself at the Merchants Inn."

I thought about that, and suspected she was right. Something in Simplica's tone suggested she spoke with the wisdom of experience. I didn't fancy getting killed in the Arena, but the idea of being pawed by strange men made my skin crawl. Besides, I reflected guiltily, I knew more about killing men than sleeping with them.

The Arena could provide a place to sleep, a set of armor and some gold. Of course I could also get killed, but I was pretty good with a bow. . . . Hopefully Daenlin's training would not let me down. Well ok then. I sighed heavily, blew some blond strays from my face, then nodded at Simplicia. After we shared one of my loaves of bread, I thanked her and headed for the Arena.

It was dark by the time I found the entrance to the Bloodworks, but it was still open. My heart sank when Owyn the Blademaster started laughing at me. I was torn between happiness and fear when the Redguard finally agreed to let me become a combatant of the lowest rank - Pit Dog.

Well, if I needed to fight to get home, so be it - but not tonight. "What have I gotten us into, Acadian?" I whispered as I crawled into an empty bedroll. Exhaustion prevailed over fear however, and sleep came quickly.

The next morning I tried on my newly issued Arena armor. Owyn had called it a light raiment. It was blue and quite attractive, actually. After eating some of my bread and quaffing a pitcher of water, I strapped on my quiver, grabbed my bow, then reported to Owyn. He sounded pretty discouraging, but scheduled me for the next match. I climbed up the ramp to the Arena itself, then applied the only poison I had to an arrow. I stuck two more arrows into the ground by my right foot.

With my bow partially drawn, the announcer describing that only one Pit Dog would leave the Arena alive and the crowd yelling, I was scared to death. Too late to back out now, Buffy. The gate opened and I was already sighted in. I quickly brought my bowstring to full tension and released it. My first arrow was still in the air as I grabbed the second.

The other combatant's pale skin blossomed with a green tinge from my poison, but he was still racing at me as I launched my second arrow and grabbed a third. He was getting way too close. I could clearly see now he was a fellow Bosmer. I started moving backwards down my tunnel as I nocked that third arrow.

The impact at this range knocked him off balance and stopped him. His face was contorted with pain and rage, yet somehow he managed to resume a staggering advance and raise his blade. He was close enough now to hit me however, and I had run out of tunnel to back up in!

My bow came up to deflect his short sword while fire flew from my right hand. He screamed at the flames as the tip of his blade skittered down the lower limb of my bow, then into my left leg. The horrible smell of his burning flesh filled the air as, finally, he fell.

"Oh thank Mar-" I stopped myself short, unsure how our Goddess of Love would feel about helping me kill my Arena opponent.

My left shoulder ached from being badly jarred. I was bleeding from the gash on my leg and shaking all over. I heard the booming voice of the announcer declaring me the winner, so I limped back into the Bloodworks. The healing fountain eased my wounds quite a bit. Although not broken, the staff of my bow had been badly nicked. I suspected it would break if brought to full tension - I would need another bow. I had survived this fight, but clearly needed to get a lot better if I was ever going to do this again and expect to live.

"You did it! You actually survived your first match!" The incredulity in Owyn's voice made it clear that he had never expected me to live. I didn't find that comforting at all. He produced a small bag of gold and pressed it into my hand. "Here's your take, Pit Dog." He then slapped me on the shoulder - yes, the sore one and added, "ok, go get yourself cleaned up, kid. Good job."

I didn't feel like I had done a good job as I plopped onto a bench in the training bay of the Bloodworks. Did the Bosmer I had just killed have a family? Was he just trying to earn some money to get home like me? Any dreams he had were now spilled out upon the sands of the Arena. Like me however, he had made a choice. I wished his elven spirit well, hoping that had he been victorious he would have done the same for me. Shaking my head, I tried to clear the image of his charred face from my mind, and counted my gold. Including Owyn's pouch of blood money, I now had enough to get home.

Since the Arena raiment was the nicest outfit I had, I kept it on. Leaving the damaged bow behind, I shouldered my pack and headed for the Waterfront to book passage on a ship home.

As I left the Bloodworks, I breathed the word, "Bravil." Every fiber in me ached to return to my humble city on the Niben.

Besides, City Swimmer owed me big for saving her scaly tail.