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.

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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]

During Episode 63, Buffy and Mazoga cleared the campsite just outside the Ayleid ruin of Telepe. They then discussed their plans and tactics to enter the ruin, clear it of any foes and lay in wait for the leader of the Black Bow Bandits, Black Brugo.

SubRosa- Thank you! My hope was to contrast the gory frantic mess at Fisherman's Rock with Buffy's more planned and calculated style. Yes, she was astounded by (and of course envious of) how comfortable/confident Mazoga is in her own skin. I hope Buffy doesn't ask me to get her a mod that gives her a pair of big, um. . . tusks like Mazoga has.

Thomas Kaira- Thank you for your concern about the darkness of Buffy's path. She hopes that her doctrine will help keep one foot anchored in light. The exhilaration she experienced came more from her feeling of control and elegant use of her skills (so very lacking at Fisherman's Rock), than the death of these bandits.

Buffy does indeed wrestle with a dark side though; she has been called 'cuddly like a rattlesnake' and 'lethally blond'. When it comes to men or mer - who possess free will - she has painfully learned to expect no quarter from necromancers, bandits, marauders and the like - and she does not offer any. Even her mercy to Rufio was laced with significant cruelty. She has tortured highwaymen who threatened her mare, and necromancers who carved up their victims. She harbors no regrets over her preemptive assassination of the threatening mage, Earana. She has frequently admitted the feeling of exhilaration she gets from the elegant use of her skills. She simply does not kill those whom she considers innocent - that is why she rejected the Dark Brotherhood. Although I believe Buffy is overall a 'good' character, she would never lay claim to that title.

Being scrawny makes her a smaller target! Oh Thomas, Buffy could just kiss you for pointing that out to her! Woohoo! You made her day!

mALX- Thank you! There is indeed a part of the little elf that wants someone to protect her. I'm so glad you are enjoying the growing relationship between Buffy and Mazoga. It seems that Buffy is having some success at exerting a degree of influence over her large friend. Mazoga is learning to listen to her scout, and Buffy is learning to trust in the power and steel of her mighty orc.

The Vyper- Thank you so much for picking up on the fact that even though Buffy did the heavy lifting here, she was very careful to respectfully try and make it seem like Mazoga was truly her partner. In Buffy's eyes, Mazoga is rapidly coming to deserve the great consideration that Buffy lavishes upon those she calls friend.

MyCat- Thank you for quoting this variation of one of our trademark lines -'I hoped I knew what we were doing.' Buffy has used the same line to describe her misgivings to Acadian when she makes a questionable decision for them. Similarly, she has said 'I hope he knows what we're doing' on more than one occasion in response to a decision from Acadian that she questions.

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64 The Leyawiin Expedition, Part 8- Black Brugo

We entered Telepe. Within moments I held up two fingers - one for each of the pink glows I saw. My hand then curled into a fist, signaling Mazoga to wait. I pulled the dark shadows around my cat suit and, with a firm grip on Slayer, cautiously advanced alone.

I crept up the first corridor to my right, which led to a chamber containing the life signs. Allowing a small amount of magical energy to briefly tease its way out to the tips of my fingers, I circled my softly glowing hand as a signal for Mazoga to join me. I was pleasantly surprised how carefully and quietly she moved up, her deadly emerald blade held low in front of her.

Ayleid glow stones in the room ahead gently bathed my target in a blue-white light. She was a dark elf archer. The bare fingers of my right hand slipped into the quiver at my back and sought the slightly shorter length of an arrow that could pierce the elf's mithril cuirass. After applying poison to the arrowhead that was both specially hardened and enchanted, I set the nock to Slayer's bowstring. The archer jerked on impact, as a puff of orange magic helped the slender arrowhead penetrate her armor. As poison darkened her Dunmeri skin, she fell.

The erratic movement of the other glow signaled that my stealth was forfeit. I backed up until bumping into the unyielding comfort of orcish armor. Sliding to the wall, I simply said, "I need you".

As soon as Mazoga rushed past me I followed. The unarmored Dunmer lunged at the orc with his dagger. I knew what was coming, but I couldn't force myself to look away. Mazoga swept the small blade aside with her shield. She then stepped back to optimize her distance and opened the Dunmer's abdomen with a single slash of her long sword. I winced, involuntarily grabbing for my own midsection. As the bandit quickly bled out on the stone floor, an image flashed into my mind of Gladius Maro - a Bravil guard - killing my friend City Swimmer with the same lethal precision.

After confirming there were no more life signs within range, I stowed Slayer and sparked a torch to life.

Mazoga wiped down and sheathed her blade. "How'd we do?"

I looked up at the mighty orc. She was indeed my protector. Perhaps it was being in the middle of so much melee combat recently that disturbed me. I still vividly remembered the carnage at Fisherman's Rock. Mustering an appreciative smile I responded, "Sir Mazoga, you were magnificent. Shall we search these bandits, then check the rest of this place before our host, Black Brugo joins us?"

We discovered that Telepe was very small. After exploring the three chambers and becoming familiar with the Ayleid ruin's simple layout, we returned to the room where we had killed the pair of dark elves. We sat and discussed some of the possibilities for ambushing Black Brugo. Then we waited.

"Buffy, how'd you learn to talk so good? You know lots of fancy words and you string 'em together real nice. You sound like you belong in that castle."

"Why thank you, Sir Mazoga," I replied as I checked the condition and tension of Slayer's bowstring. "While at the Arcane University, I read almost every book in the Mystic Archives. I'm sure that must have helped. I have found use, on occasion, for the ability to control and optimize words to suit my purpose. That is," I added with small giggle, "when my emotions don't get the better of me."

I looked at the pair of nearby corpses and my smile faded. The archer simply had a small hole in her armor from which I had easily recovered my slender-headed arrow. Her companion however, lay in a pool of blood with parts of his intestines protruding from the gaping belly wound. "Sir Mazoga, do you ever get used to the blood? I mean the way you fight is so close and. . . personal. You see the terror in your foes' eyes before they die. If an enemy gets close enough for me to see their face, usually the terror's in my eyes. When things go well for me, my enemies are just faceless targets that fall to an unseen feathered missile from the shadows."

Mazoga scratched behind her ear with a thick finger. After a moment she replied, "It's the only way I know. I can't do what you do any more than you could wield my sword." She accepted the water bag I offered, took a long pull and said, "Thanks," as handed it back to me. She then shook her head and added, "And no, you don't get used to the blood when you live or die by the sword."

The sound of voices quickly brought us both to our feet and weapons to our hands. Scanning the pink glows that had entered Telepe, I silently signaling Mazoga what my magic rings were showing me. The three figures settled into the chamber directly across from us.

We quietly moved into the entrance corridor and headed toward the exit. Once we arrived at the base of the stone steps leading up to only door out of the ruin, I signaled Mazoga to wait.

As I turned to proceed alone back toward the glowing life signs, the orc stopped me by engulfing my upper arm in her hand. She then gently pivoted me around to face her. In the dim light cast by the pink halo surrounding Mazoga, I could see concern on her face and a question in her eyes.

She allowed me to pull her head and shoulders down until I could place my mouth near her ear. I whispered, "Let's try my way. If it doesn't work, I know who to run to."

Clinging to shadows, I crept silently to the threshold of the room containing the three figures. The dim light of a glow stone embedded in the ceiling was augmented by several candles. I could see a Breton woman with a dagger at her hip and cup in her hand. She was arguing loudly with a Redguard whose drink sloshed from a metal tankard. A mace hung from his sword belt. Black Brugo was easy to spot as he used his tusks to snap the glass top off a bottle of ale. The orc had a blade like Mazoga's at his waist and he looked just as deadly.

I didn't want Mazoga in the middle of this, and was thankful that I had a plan to minimize risk to. . . my friend.

Magic flowed into my right hand. I pointed toward Black Brugo and a swirling emerald illusion leaped from my fingertips. Even before the spell struck, I was backing out of the room.

By Mara! Shouts, weapons being drawn, more shouts, steel on steel, cries of pain. The command spell, which had convinced Black Brugo to wield his blade on my behalf, was causing havoc. I quietly continued backing into the entry corridor, then melted into the shadows. The trap was set, and Mazoga now guarded the only escape.

I watched the clashing dance of pink glows on the other side of the wall until there were two. Eventually, only one remained. Black Brugo limped from the room and headed for the exit - and Mazoga.

I selected an arrow as the heavily armored green titans charged each other. Blades crashed into shields. The narrow corridor greatly constrained both orcs' ability to manuever, but also provided me a steady target.

The impact of my armor-piercing arrow in the center of Brugo's back caused his arms and head to involuntarily jerk rearward. Mazoga wasted no time exploiting the opening as she ferociously thrust into his exposed neck. Before I could nock a second arrow, the leader of the Black Bow Bandits was dead.

* From Buffy's scrapbook: Screenshot

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jan 10 2011, 07:11 PM