Buffy the Bowgirl, Book 1, Thread 3, Do You Know the Way to Kvatch? Options

[Acadian]

Welcome to Thread 3, or the third season of Buffy's Book 1!

This book began with Buffy being briefly incarcerated in the Imperial Prison, and will end as she attempts to bring freedom to the city of Kvatch. It is a sprawling story that will require more than 150 episodes, spread over five threads. Appropriately, I have nicknamed Book 1, 'Do You Know the Way to Kvatch?'

Thread 1 included episodes 1-26.

Thread 2 began with a brief recap of thread one, then included episodes 27-56.

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Please allow me to offer a small summary of Thread 2 that I hope might prove useful as a review, or for those who are joining us in progress:

Buffy discovered, from a black marketeer in Bravil, that sigil stones are what hold Oblivion Gates open.

In Chorrol, Buffy learned, after the fact, that the monk Jauffre had been murdered and the Amulet of Kings apparently stolen - almost immediately after Buffy had delivered it to him.

Her business in Chorrol also saw Buffy plot and carry out a deserved, but nonetheless calculated assassination of a rogue mage named Earana. Although tempted by the subsequent Dark Brotherhood's seductive lure of love and family, Buffy ultimately balked at her initiation contract and concluded that her killing and taste for vengeance were not for hire. Her 'dance with darkness' led to the forging and adopting of The Buffy Doctrine: If you are kind to me, I will love you dearly; if you are mean to me or my friends, I will likely kill you.

She began to display a fascination with the quests of Daedra Lords that, at first, made sense. Azura had given Buffy a wonderful artifact, and Meridia helped her avenge a murdered guild mate. Succumbing to the lure of Daedric trinkets, Buffy then undertook several more of these quests, netting disappointment and even shame over some of her choices.

Her fascination with Daedra Lords nevertheless remained and she eventually, with the help of Acadian, realized the cause: The Oblivion Gate at Kvatch was the work of a Daedra Lord, Mehrunes Dagon. Buffy had learned that without an Emperor, the Legion was too busy holding rebellious provinces together to send forces to close a gate that seemed under control. She realized that if she didn't help, no one would. Her curious logic yielded that perhaps one of Mehrunes Dagon's colleagues could help her learn more about fighting the Daedra within the gate, and ultimately closing it.

A second brief visit to Kvatch refined that her motivation did not necessarily stem from a desire to assist the Empire or Kvatch. It became clear that the focus of her efforts was Savlian Matius himself, even as she wrestled with trying to understand her growing feelings for him.

*

Now, 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.

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We now join Buffy as she embarks on a large storyline we call 'The Leyawiin Expedition,' that will sprawl over approximately sixteen episodes. Although the Daedra Lord Sanguine's quest is Buffy's excuse to visit to Leyawiin, I hope you will sit back and enjoy her rather multifaceted, expansive and sometimes circuitous approach to things.

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57 The Leyawiin Expedition, Part 1- Wet Reflections

The journey to Leyawiin was miserable. It never stopped raining. Despite wearing a hood, cape and robes, my skin was soaked and my boots full of water. The storm seemed to deter bandits and beasts though, and had allowed us to slosh along the puddle-laden road in relative peace. I had plenty of time to discuss my plans and concerns at length with Acadian and Superian.

My heart still ached from my decision to leave Kvatch. The excuses I had given Savlian Matius about trying to get more help for him and experience for me were true enough, although incomplete. I had nightmares of fireballs, burning rivers, and those terrifying clannfears. Amidst the brave defenders on top of that mountain, I was too ashamed to proclaim that much of my reason for leaving was fear.

That fear extended to my feelings for Savlian as well. Was a skittish wood elf really what that courageous man needed? Was a soldier, who subordinated his own needs and feelings to the defense of his city, what I needed? Was he even capable of caring about a woman more than his beloved Kvatch?

Yet. . . he had charged into that gate after me, jeopardizing his ability to command the effort at the barricade. Did that mean. . . oh, I didn't know what any of it meant. I thought about the beautiful Nord that now graced his defensive perimeter. I couldn't blame Savlian if he preferred her to me. After all, Sigrid was neither skittish nor would she run away. I knew I would return. . . just not yet. Not with those nightmares. What would I find when I did go back to Kvatch? We slowly plodded along in the downpour. A tear slid down my cheek, only to be lost in the rain.

The depressing weather also helped doubts to seep into my commitment to the current path that Acadian and I had agreed upon. Would any of these Daedra Lords help me learn more about how to survive the denizens of Mehrunes Dagon's realm so I could close that gate?

We carefully skirted the rising Lower Niben, where relentless rain had claimed parts of the Green Road near Water's Edge. Recalling the tragedy I had inflicted upon the poor Khajiit of nearby Borderwatch, it was easy to become discouraged with Daedra Lords. As I contemplated my shameful actions in support of Sheogorath, it was not lost on me that Sanguine seemed to be requesting another such 'harmless' practical joke. I vowed quietly into the rain, "I will not cast Sanguine's spell if I come to believe it will shatter hopes or lives. I did enough of that at Borderwatch."

It was thoughts of Vaermina and her tower of nightmares that provided a glimmer of hope into my soggy despair; at least she had acknowledged my fears, and provided Daedra to help improve my skill and confidence.

Ultimately though, as Acadian had pointed out, I realized that I wasn't yet ready to take on an Oblivion Gate.

Resigned then to our current path, I mused and pondered aloud about what might await us in Leyawiin. Acadian and Superian listened patiently in the rain as I tried to come up with ideas of how I might infiltrate my way into Castle Leyawiin and the Countess' dinner party.

Despite my trepidation regarding Sanguine's task, I confessed some excitement at the prospects for intrigue and learning a bit of what happens inside a castle. And of course, what girl would turn down the chance to dress up in a formal gown?

By the time the walls of Leyawiin began to emerge from the darkness, I had almost convinced myself that continuing to research Daedra Lords was a perfectly valid reason to delay getting myself killed at Kvatch.

*

During the brief moment that the heavy wooden door to the Leyawiin guild was open, rain swept across the elegant marble floor, and a crack of thunder caused the mage inside the lobby to flinch. I removed my soaked hood. "Good evening, Evoker," I said to the Nord as my cape and green robe dripped on the floor.

"Greetings, Apprentice. I see the weather outside is still fit only for Argonians." Agata was pleasant, but businesslike, with her hair severely pulled back and wearing standard guild-issue blue robes. "It's been quite some time since you helped us by recovering Dagail's amulet. I was pleased that our recommendation helped you enter the University. During my recent visit there, Boderi Farano told me you did quite well for yourself. What brings you to Leyawiin?"

"Mostly research, Agata." I had found the term 'research' to be well-accepted among mages, and covered a multitude of things I didn't want to share. "Do you think I could stow my things and use Kalthar's old bed in the basement while I'm here?" I extended both arms to emphasize my baggy dripping sleeves, and shrugged.

The Nord smiled. "Forgive me, Buffy. Of course. Use Kalthar's quarters. Head down there right now and get yourself into some dry things. My dear friend Kud-Ei would never forgive me if we let one of her girls catch cold. We'd be delighted to have you stay as long as you like. Let me know if there's anything I can help you with."

"Thank you for the welcome, Agata." I headed downstairs.

As I looked at the bed in the basement, I remembered Kalthar. Killing a whining traitor to help the kind and wise leader of this guild had been a fair trade. The Council of Mages had determined my actions to be self defense and absolved me for the death of my guild mate.

After tugging off and draining my boots, I removed the cape and robe. Squeezing out the excess water, I found a place to hang them, along with the hood. While unpacking, I allowed the air to dry my rain-soaked skin. My fingers and toes were quite pale and wrinkled.

I hoped Delphine knew what she was talking about, commending Agata to me. If the Nordic assistant guild leader knew much about fashion and hair, it surely didn't show. Of course, I was hardly one to talk at the moment. My ponytail was more like a wet rattail. Removing the soaked ribbon I shook my loose hair, spraying the walls.

Laying out my gowns to relax the travel wrinkles, I was grateful that Delmar at the Chironasium had helped me enchant my pack to protect the contents from water. By the time I finished unpacking, my skin was dry and I pulled on a blue and green dress - with matching slippers of course. I then combed out my wet hair and headed back upstairs.

As I climbed to the second floor of the guild, I suppressed a squeal at my good fortune and chirped, "Hail, Tsavi." A green hood, atop a matching robe, turned around to reveal the the Khajiit. She was a member of the guild, but more importantly was the Staff Mage for Castle Leyawiin.

"Good evening, Buffy. Nice to see you. The trip from Bravil was uneventful?" Tsavi looked perpetually sad, but she was nevertheless pleasant enough.

"Yes, but for that interminable storm." Careful now, Buffy; nice and subtle. "I had to wear my rain gear all the way. Tsavi, I notice your green robes from the University. I hate wearing mine. How do you get them to fit so well?"

She seemed pleased at the compliment as she looked down and smoothed the robes with her hands. Her tail flicked around from behind and swept down the front of her lower legs. "These have been altered - to fit better and allow for a tail. Otherwise this one would swim around tripping over the hem."

I laughed. "Oh, good idea. I called them 'green bags' at the University." Good. Tsavi was opening up just a bit. "I only wear mine against the rain. Fortunately, they've been soaked and dried enough that they've shrunk to fit somewhat."

Tsavi smiled. "Well the whole idea of wearing robes as the Court Mage is important. It helps remind those in the castle - well really, just the Countess - of the position's importance. Otherwise, she would likely throw Tsavi out."

"Throw you out?" I opened my eyes wide for her benefit. Yes! She was talking about the castle now. "Why on Nirn would the Countess do that?" Add just a pinch of flattery. "You're a skilled mage and healer."

"Countess Caro hates Khajiit." Tsavi shook her head slowly and her ears drooped. "The sad part is, she could perhaps be a fine Lady Leyawiin otherwise. At least she dislikes Khajiit and Argonians equally. The way many of our two races torment each other in this town, the last thing we need is for her to take sides. This one believes the Countess just dislikes anyone whose appearance varies from her own Imperialness. You should see how she lifts her nose when she passes that orc who's been hanging around the Great Hall."

"Orc?" I pounced on the opportunity and tried my best to gush encouragement. "Now, that sounds mysterious!"

"Oh, it is." Tsavi perked up. "That orc claims she's a knight, but just snarls that she won't talk to anyone but the Count. Of course, the guards won't let a snarling orc anywhere near Lord Leyawiin. She's done nothing that quite warrants arrest, so things are at a standstill. Since his guards can get nowhere with her, the Count has offered a reward to anyone who can determine the orc's business."

"Fascinating, Tsavi," I said. Ok Buffy, turn off the gush. Time to gently back out. "How's Dagail? I mean, now that she has her amulet back to channel her voices and visions."

"Dagail? As wise as she ever was," replied the Khajiit. "She still talks in questions and circles, but if you pay attention you can learn much from her. Agata continues to handle much of the daily business for the guild. That reminds Tsavi that her purpose this evening is to see Agata. Please excuse this one, Apprentice. Wonderful to see you again."

"You too, Tsavi. 'Bye." I gave myself a passing grade for this first step of my infiltration. My business remained my own. The less people involved in Sanguine's perversion, the better. I hoped to minimize Agata's role to that of providing assistance with clothing and hair, should the time come. The conversation with Tsavi had provided a reason to visit the castle - albeit, an apparently snarling one.

* From Buffy's scrapbook: Screenshot1 * Screenshot2

This post has been edited by Acadian: Oct 28 2011, 10:25 PM

[Acadian]

In Episode 61, Buffy was able to extort Weebam-Na into talking to Mazoga. The Argonian however, refused to escort the surly orc to a local landmark. Buffy agreed to accept this scouting task. The next morning, Buffy and Mazoga traveled toward Fisherman's Rock - and began to gain some understanding of each other.

hazmick- Thank you. It seems Buffy has stumbled upon the fact that the brusque and socially unskilled Mazoga seems to understand and respect the term 'friend'. How fortuitous for both ladies that it is a term Buffy also well-understands.

SubRosa- I thank everyone's patience as the significance of doing Nocturnal's quest was finally and fully revealed. It was Buffy's love for her mare that gave her the 'stones' to really stand up to Mazoga and not back down this time. Fortunately, the little elf's backbone seemed to impress the mighty orc. As ever, I thank you for your wonderful insight into what we are trying to portray and your encouragement. I made a minor edit to account for your nit - thanks!

mALX- You nailed it again, my friend! Few things can bring out the unyielding deadliness in Buffy like a threat to her horse. Fortunately, she survived the standoff with Mazoga and, as you say, took a huge step on the rocky path toward an enduring friendship.

The Vyper- Buffy will get to the Tournament of Archers in about 20 more episodes - and we promise to finish it this time! Thank you for citing some of the important passages from this last episode. I suppose opposites attract somewhat, for it is a joy to write Buffy + Mazoga!

Grits- Thank you for reinforcing some of what I see in Buffy. She can be scary and elegantly lethal when she can plan and control an encounter. Yet, when surprised or her expected plan changes, she fumbles and flusters to the point that even a rat can embarrass her. As Boderi pointed out, this flaw seems to be part of Buffy's nature, and she works hard to compensate for it. Thank you also for the kind words and encouragement regarding some of our descriptions - I have to really work hard through lots of edits to have any hope of getting all the words where I want them.

All- Over the next few episodes, Buffy is vividly reminded of why she has neither the stomach nor skills to be a melee fighter. Mazoga however, readily and brutally demonstrates her lethality at very close range. To effectively portray the stark contrast between their fighting styles requires a somewhat liberal use of graphic violence. Caution: Bloodwork ahead.

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62 The Leyawiin Expedition, Part 6- A Knight's Oath

"Remember me?" Mazoga said to the bare-chested Nord. He appeared to be the leader of the foursome gathered near the bonfire at Fisherman's Rock.

"No," he shot back suspiciously.

"I'm Mazoga. You killed my friend, Ra'vindra."

The Nord slowly moved one hand toward his hip. "No idea who yer talkin' about, orc." As his fingers came to rest on the grip of an elven daggar, the weapon responded with a faint glimmer of magic.

I began calmly moving toward a firing position, formulating plans, increasing my distance and offsetting myself from Mazoga. In addition to the Nord that I presumed to be Mogens Wind-Shifter, there was a Dunmeri archer and two Khajiit equipped with an axe and war hammer respectively. I was sure my precautions would not be necessary. After all, even Mazoga wouldn't lead us into a straight-up fight against twice our number.

Would she?

"You're a lying pile of troll dung." Mazoga snarled as the emerald blade of her long sword sang from its scabbard. "You killed Ra'vindra and now I'm going to kill you!"

So much for talking. My heart bounced up to my throat. The Nord drew his dagger.

Cobra's Dance flew from my fingertips quickly enough that it hit Mogens in the chest before Mazoga could get in the way. As the Nord fell helplessly to the ground, Mazoga was frighteningly efficient. She thrust her sword into his bare chest, twisted it viciously, then yanked it free to the sound of escaping air.

The Dunmer's arrow that struck Mazoga's hip caused her to wince with pain. It also condemned the orc's next target. She moved quickly to the nearby archer, forcing the dark elf to switch from her bow to a dagger.

The Khajiit with the war hammer started to circle around behind Mazoga.

My first arrow staggered the other Khajiit - the one with the axe running toward me. I immediately chased the arrow with a spell that caused him to flee in terror and give me a few seconds.

I loosed a second arrow into the other Khajiit, knocking her off balance and interrupting the raised war hammer intended for Mazoga. By chasing this arrow with a fear spell as well, I was able to provide my ally a moment alone with the Dunmer.

Mazoga shield-swept away the dagger of the lunging archer. She then stepped back and, with a quick slash, opened the Dunmer's throat with such ferocity it nearly severed her head. Bright crimson spurts arced from the elf's wound as she fell.

The Khajiit closest to me had recovered from my spell and charged again. My third arrow of the fight caused him to drop his axe and collapse.

Much less than one minute had passed, and three of the gang were now dead. I nocked an arrow, but quickly realized it would not be needed. The remaining Khajiit, with her war hammer raised high, swung downward. Mazoga deftly sidestepped, and the warhead of the hammer thudded harmlessly into the dirt. The momentum of the massive weapon carried the Khajiit to one knee. Hopelessly off balance, overextended and outmatched, the cat woman raised her head to look up at the orc.

Staring at the back of the Khajiit, I knew she did not have time to stand upright, much less raise her heavy weapon from the ground. Although I felt no pity for her, I was glad I couldn't see her face.

The waist-level swing of Mazoga's long sword was a green blur. The forward quarter of the blade hit the side of the Khajiit's head with a sickening crack. I couldn't tell if the noise was caused by cleaving her skull or from snapping her neck. Regardless, she was dead.

It was over.

Silence descended, punctuated only by heavy orcish breathing and crackling from the bonfire. Mazoga and I stared at each other, standing in the middle of this carnage. Her armor was covered by the blood of our foes, her blade dripping the stuff on the ground. Finally, she spoke. "I kept my oath. Mogens Wind-Shifter is dead."

"Sir Mazoga, I led us here and even fought alongside you." My voice had a softness that surprised me after this violent fight. "We've saved each other's lives more than once this day. Isn't it time you told me what this is all about? Who was Ra'vindra?"

"Mogens Wind-Shifter had a gang." Mazoga's voice seemed gentler now as well. "They robbed and killed travelers, but Ra'vindra saw them and told the guards. Mogens got away, but first he killed Ra'vindra. . . my best friend, Ra'vindra." Mazoga paused and looked down at the dead Nord. When she raised her head and met my eyes again, determination had pushed aside the sadness in her voice. "That day I became a knight and swore a knight's oath. I searched a long time, and asked everyone. Then finally I heard he was hiding at Fisherman's Rock. So now you know everything."

My perception of this green monster who dealt death with such skill and brutality was now confused. I didn't quite know how to respond to the passion or nobility of her cause, so I didn't. "Let me heal your wounds, Sir Mazoga." There was an arrow protruding from her hip that had made its way between the plates of her armor. With my hand on the arrow, I carefully allowed destruction magic to travel down its shaft. The arrow disintegrated, leaving a clean wound.

"Be still now," I said quietly. I then placed both hands on the orc and allowed white magic to flow between us. I could sense many old injuries and broken bones, long healed. The pain I felt from her arrow wound was mild, and overshadowed by the ache emanating from her heart. As I allowed the magic to fade, I asked, "Better?"

Mazoga nodded. "You're good at that, Buffy. I thought you were a scout."

"I'm an empathic healer also," I replied.

"Empa-what?" The orc looked confused.

"While at the Arcane University, I discovered that the way I heal is by laying on of hands. It is the same type of healing used by a priestess," I then added with a smile, "or a paladin. I can assess, diagnose and even feel the pain of my patients - things most mages cannot do. It comes with a price however, in that it requires the physical bond of touch."

"You can't just throw a healing spell from a distance?" she asked.

"No." I shook my head. "If you get hurt and I can't get to you, the best I can do is toss you a potion; that's why I carry them. Sir Mazoga, I'd like to stay here and think for a while." Smiling up at the orc, I asked, "Will you meet me in Castle Leyawiin tomorrow morning?"

"I'll be there." Mazoga curled her upper lip, but it was different this time. I believed she was returning my smile. "I won't forget what you did for me today, Buffy. Say, you oughta be a knight yourself."

Mazoga then turned and headed south, back toward Leyawiin. After she disappeared into the trees, I grasped the small pouch containing a lock of Superian's mane. My spirit sought that of my mare. Through her eyes, I could see she still up on the Yellow Road where Mazoga and I had left her - just beyond sight of Fisherman's Rock. Superian and I had learned that when the distance between us was short, the Call of Corsair didn’t require a map or teleportation. She could simply and safely walk to me. "I need you," I whispered.

A few moments later, I could see the mare approaching from the direction of the road. She stopped at the edge of the camp, nervously snorting her disapproval and pawing the dirt with one hoof. Considering the mutilated bodies and blood soaked ground around me, I couldn't blame her.

I began checking the corpses. I saved Mogens' enchanted dagger for Mazoga to use against wills-o-the-wisp.

"Acadian, Mazoga thinks I should become a knight. If I were not standing amidst four corpses, that would be a laughable thought. A knight who must hide behind others or strike from the shadows to survive - how very noble."

The Dunmeri archer that Mazoga had killed wore an unusual cuirass of forest green mail. It was trimmed with dark brown elven plating and leather. Wiping off some of the blood, I could see the quality was exquisite. Battling nausea, I removed it from her almost decapitated body. The cuirass was remarkably light, and I figured the smith in Leyawiin could size it down to fit me. I walked the few paces to the cleansing waters of the Lower Niben. So much blood.

* *

"Such vengeance is a noble deed," Count Marius Caro declared. "Buffy, you were brave and wise to assist Mazoga. I offer you one thousand Septims for your service to Leywiin, but I hope you will decline it."

He held up one hand to prevent my response as he continued, "Instead, I would prefer you consider the following offer: I have created a chivalric Order of the White Stallion. Find and kill the leader of the Black Bow Bandits, the orc named Black Brugo. If you succeed, I will bestow on both you and Mazoga, the title Knight Errant of the White Stallion for your service. Take some time to think on this, and perhaps consult your friend, Mazoga before letting me know your decision."

After I had properly withdrawn from the throne room, I slowly walked toward the main area of the great hall. Knight Errant would be a title accepted throughout Cyrodiil. My head spun from the possibilities. I would be a member of the Court of Leyawiin and even considered a minor noble. Perhaps as a knight, I would have better luck recruiting assistance for Savlian. Oh, and what better way to access one of the Countess' dinner parties? Dame Buffy? My giggle was cut short as I thought of Mazoga and how much it would mean to her to become recognized as a real knight.

I approached the waiting orc and told her of the Count's offer.

"Gods' ghoulies, Buffy! A Knight Errant? That's better than a free knight, right?" After I nodded, she continued, "Real knights! You and me. I know this Black Brugo. He and his henchmen swing by a nearby ruin called Telepe every night around midnight. Gives orcs a bad name. Let's take him out for the Count!"

This post has been edited by Acadian: Dec 31 2010, 06:54 PM