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 7.2, Buffy learned how to identify necromancers, and that they are hostile. It is a lesson she will remember. She emerged from the bowels of Vilverin with an Ayleid enchanted bag of holding (mod).

Olen- Danger and frivolity. Thank you for that perfect characterization. At this young age, her mind is a swirling stew of the exhilaration she feels using her bow, protective loyalty to friends, terror, overconfidence, vengeance, and. . . yes, what shoes to wear. All simmering within the broth of youthful naivete.

Rider- Oooh! Thank you for picking up on the early indicators of the 'Buffy Doctrine'. And of course, the high priority she gives to wardrobe considerations. I suspect she would quickly be rejected by the Legion, based on what Mrs. Acadian calls being 'lethally blonde'.

SubRosa- Yes, I agree on detect life. I think of it as shorthand for life force or spiritual presence or such. 'Soul trappable' is a good acid test, as you say.

Buffy's dilemma over identifying the black-robed figure was new in this version, and I think more realistic, given her age and lack of 'Nirnliness'. You did a masterful job of dealing with this in a different manner in TF.

Thank you also for picking up on the cuddly rattlesnake with a fashion fetish.

Foxy- Thank you for those kind and insightful words! She will learn better and safer arcane ways to identify her targets in the future than blurting, "Hi, I'm Buffy".

DarkZerker- I am so pleased that you found your way over here. Yes, Buffy is quite the chatterbox over there on the Bethesda Oblivion forums. She is indeed an unusual 'crossover' between both the game and fanfic forums. In fact, she was originally forged as a training aid on those forums to discuss mystic archery and rapidly developed her own persona. It was heartening indeed to hear that Buffy has influenced your own game play.

Zalphon- Thank you for those very kind words. I'm sure I could never write anything except the journal of Buffy - so it's wonderfully rewarding to hear that you think we have some talent for that.

Wolf- Yes, necromancers have joined Buffy's list of varmints. Despite a short attention span, she does have a long memory. Thank you.

Destri- Thank you. Stubborn? Yes, 'guiding' Buffy along is akin to herding cats. I'm so pleased that you find the 'mystic archer how to' aspects of interest. That was the original genesis of her stories and we are proud to say, aspects of it will always remain.

* * *

8 Water Makes Her Clothes Fall Off

Earana towered over me in her green silk finery, seething. "You gave 'Fingers of the Mountain' to Teekeeus? Stupid girl! I don't care how you get it, but I want that book! Despite your incompetence I'll even still give you the reward I promised."

"If you want me to choose loyalties between a rogue mage with a bad attitude or my guild, you lose," I snapped angrily. "That book is the property of the Mages Guild now."

Earana's face contorted into a mask of hatred and her golden Altmeri skin reddened. "You just earned yourself a dangerous enemy, little one."

Bristling, I instinctively raised my left hand towards my bow. Just as quickly I stopped myself and slowly lowered it. I was intimidated by the Altmer mage and pretty sure that she would win if it came down to a fight in the open. It didn't matter though, as, from the corner of my eye, I saw the guard under the Great Oak. The message his hand sent as it moved to rest upon the pommel of his sword was unmistakable. I didn't want to get into a fight with a guard either. I figured he just had a job to do and maybe even a family. Besides, my last confrontation with a soldier only lasted a second or two and didn't go well at all for me.

"W-we're done here, Earana." I promptly wheeled around and stepped off towards the North Gate trying to display confidence instead of fear. It might have worked had I not stuttered like a pathetic child. If I were an an Argonian, I'm sure my tail would have been between my legs. I sure hoped that guard intimidated Earana as much as he did me. I figured he was the only thing preventing a fireball in my back.

Luckily for me, the only things that flew my way from Earana were threats. "You think we're done?" she hissed. "Far from it, tree elf. The guards can't protect you forever"

I paused briefly, torn between the fear and anger that swirled within me, then forced myself to continue walking away. I whispered, "Nor can they protect you from what you will never see, Earana."

Approaching the guard on duty at the North Gate, I forced a smile his way, then exited the city of Chorrol.

With the comfort of forest in front of me and city gate pressed firmly against my back, I allowed some of the fear I had felt during my encounter with Earana to flood over me. I began to shake. It would not be safe to visit Chorrol again as long as she lived. I knew that I lacked the skill to survive a fair fight. That's not the kind I had in mind though. Let it go, Buffy - for now.

Superian was grazing outside the gate, as I absently rubbed my fingertips together. Magic can be quite disconcerting for horses, yet she travelled with a mage and it was important for her to be comfortable around spell casting. We had worked together, gradually and carefully. She had gotten used to seeing me cast detect life spells, and even disappearing and reappearing next to her. She had never been the target of my spells though. I hoped we were ready for this next step.

Channeling magicka into my hand, I released a small swirling green trail at Superian. When it struck, she was bathed in a soft glow and her head popped up from grazing. She immediately came running. I gave her a hug, then positioned my hands on her neck to assess her condition. I smiled as I sensed her calmness. "Thank you for your trust, my friend." I unsheathed my hunting knife and sliced an apple, which we shared.

As we munched our snack, I could see the trail winding north from Chorrol that led to Cloud Top. During our trip there two days ago to recover that troublesome book, the sound of moving water had drawn me off the trail to a pair of ponds connected by a cascading stream. The falling water cleverly concealed a cave called Black Rock Caverns. I didn't care about the cave, but I now felt the call of those beautiful waterfalls.

Superian insisted she get the last piece of apple, then we rode the short distance to the falls, and climbed to the upper pond. I removed the leather keep from my ponytail and shook my hair loose. After carefully placing my bow, quiver, clothes and pack on the ground, I dove into the cool water.

After a short swim, I climbed out of the pond and sat next to my pack. I basked in the sunshine now drying my skin and hair. A lazy breeze helped the tree branches above gently dance to the calming sounds of rushing water. Superian was peacefully grazing on the same carpet of green softness that tickled the backs of my legs. I just needed to revel in being a wood elf, even if for a short time.

I counted off the recent cities, extending my thumb, then a finger for each one - Bravil, Leyawiin, Cheydinhal, Bruma, Chorrol. After five guild recommendations, this break was welcome. No trudging off to the next town for another silly fetch and carry task. Not yet.

I was sure Acadian had probably placed some blue mark on my map. I hadn't looked, and right now, didn't care. The map could wait.

The golden warmth felt delicious on my skin. It was such a contrast to the cold and snow. Sunshine was supposed to be warm. I suspected the sun they had in Bruma was pretend though. It was bright alright, but had no warmth to it at all. I had to wear an ugly fur cuirass, along with leathers and boots on my legs and feet to keep warm. The views of the Imperial City were spectacular though, and Bruma was a good area to find milk thistle and wormwood.

The guild recommendation there had been a simple matter, really. There was the absent-minded guild head with perhaps not the highest level of skill, a pair of silly boys pulling an immature prank, find this, get that. . . . Well, it wasn't all bad I guess. I found Volinaro, the Altmer jokester, to be kind of attractive and rather charming. Oh, and he did help me to get better at using spells to coax open locks.

Ultimately though, Jeanne Frasoric, the guild head, said she would forward a recommendation to the University, and assured me it would carry great weight with the admissions magisters. I left Bruma as soon as I could. I guess wood elves just weren't made for the cold.

Noticing that the warm sun above Chorrol had dried my skin, I grabbed my journal and exchanged affectionate glances with Superian.

The road from Bruma to Chorrol had been uneventful. When danger approached, Superian simply broke into a run until the threat was well behind us. As we had neared Weynon Priory I remembered the Emperor's amulet, still in my pack. I vividly recalled some of his words about his own death, "No trophies of my triumphs shall precede me. But I have lived well, and my ghost shall rest easy." Smiling to myself, I hoped he was indeed resting easy. The Emperor had been kind to me and I was happy to try and deliver his amulet.

Jauffre had been upstairs, seated at his desk reading a book. I recalled what Baurus had said, "He is the grandmaster of my order, although you might not know it to look at him. He lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory." I decided the description was accurate. One had to look carefully past the advancing years, balding head and simple brown robe to see that he appeared to be a powerful man.

"The Emperor sent me," I said simply. "I have the Amulet of Kings."

"Who are you?" Jauffre barked, visibly shaken. "What do you know of the Emperor's Death?" Then he sternly continued, "The Amulet of Kings? I don't believe you. You'd better start explaining right now, young lady!"

Instantly, I disliked this man. I pulled the large red amulet from my pack and dropped it on his desk.

"By the Nine!" exclaimed Jauffre. "This is the Amulet of Kings!" His wide open eyes shifted from the amulet to me, then narrowed sharply, "How did you get this?"

Resenting his interrogation, I wondered if he meant that a simple she-elf from Bravil was not worthy of touching the Amulet of Kings, or perhaps he thought I stole it? Defiantly, I lifted my chin and stated, "The Emperor gave it to me." I then curtly described Uriel Septim's last hours and words.

Jauffre told me the story of Martin, the Emperor's illegitimate son. He said Martin had last been seen living as a priest in Kvatch. Then it came: "You must find Martin!"

I snapped back angrily, "No I mustn't! The only reason I am here is because the Emperor and Baurus asked me to deliver this amulet. Both those men were kind and courteous to me. You are neither of those things. You're the boss of the Blades, so send one of them." I planted my hands on my hips and added, "You're not the boss of me!" With that, I walked straight out the door, mounted Superian and continued to Chorrol.

Sitting by the pond, I watched the beautiful cascading water for awhile longer. I leaned over to fill my water bag, and stared at the reflection. My hair was still down, so I pulled it back to see better. I frowned at my big ears. Normally, I tried to hide them a little by pulling my hair back over them into a pony tail. I giggled as I thought that they looked like Superian's ears, and made silly faces at my reflection. And so the beautiful afternoon continued, until the sun nestled into the branches of the trees. I then set up my camp and gathered some firewood.

I hated to see the day I had enjoyed in this place end. I giggled again, "Ok Buffy, that's enough time playing naked wood nymph." I tied back my hair and pulled on a hunters outfit and leather boots, then shouldered my quiver. Grabbing my bow, I set off on foot, hunting for dinner.

Two hours later I was back, sitting in front of a cheerfully crackling campfire. I savored the smell of venison cooking with fresh herbs, and the calming sounds of the falls. The clear sky was full of sparkling stars, and light from Masser and Secunda reflected off Superian's glossy black coat. My bedroll was waiting next to the fire.

I could sense that even Acadian had enjoyed our day here. The hardships of my recent travels had been washed away.

I reached for my map.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Aug 1 2013, 04:08 PM