Buffy's Book of Short Stories, Somewhere in Time Options

[Acadian]

Welcome to Buffy's book of short stories! Rather than another chronological saga, this will be a collection of independent (generally short) stories that freely span Buffy's long and ongoing adventuring career. She'll tell you a bit more about that choice of format in her prelude below. One feature of the format she has insisted on is that the stories are not directly linked, sequential or particularly interdependent. While I believe you will find them reasonably consistent with 'Buffy lore', I'm looking forward to what I hope will be quite a bit of freedom and flexibility. The format should also make it easy for any readers who join us in progress or return from an absence, to jump right in with the current story.

For those well-familiar with Buffy, I hope you will continue to enjoy the enigmatic elven mage as she presents selective peeks into her neverending adventures across Tamriel. It is easy for Buffy and I to become emotionally overwhelmed as we contemplate the kind, enthusiastic and encouraging support that many have graced us with over the years. And for that we are profoundly grateful. My fervent hope is that you continue to find our efforts worthy of your valuable time.

For those new to Buffy, please do not let her long history deter you from jumping right in and joining us. While her series of full books are available on the Acadian sub forum, their sheer size makes reading them a daunting prospect. Fortunately, our 'Executive Summary' thread on the same sub forum offers what I believe to be a very effective summary that can easily be read in one sitting per book.

Table of contents

- Hard Crowds and Dancing Whales (1 episode) – post #12
3rd Era. Buffy fills in for a sick bard at an Anvil tavern.

- Unfinished Business – Buffy and the Box (1 episode) – post #24
3rd Era. Buffy finally reports back to Sanguine after inflicting nakedness upon the Courtess of Leyawiin and some of her party guests.

- A Bard’s Tale (5 episodes) – posts #34-66
4th Era. Buffy receives some musical training at the Bards College in Solitude.

- The Case of the Missing Court Mage (2 Episodes) – posts #76-85
4th Era. Buffy helps locate an absentminded missing mage in the Riften area.

Prelude

"Acadian, I don't want to write about the Oblivion Crisis right now." Getting up from the desk, I climbed up atop the corner bookshelf and sat down. "I want to write about being ambushed in the Reach by a Thalmor patrol. Or my first encounter as a Slayer with the vampiric Count of Skingrad. Or how, after I managed to lose Azura's Star, we traveled through time to retrieve it. Or maybe about that time when-"

"Buffy," interrupted the paladin, "all those things can eventually be crafted into your larger, overarching plot such that they fit properly along your timeline."

I hopped to the floor. "No!" Both hands planted themselves on my hips as my chin lifted defiantly. "I want to write about those things when the passion moves me to do so, not wait until it 'fits' into some silly book that's so long and complicated we can never write it. Whenever I write something I want, you complain if it doesn't make 'perfect sense' or that it doesn't fit at this point in our 'chronology'. By the time most of the tales I want to share fit into your unmanageable plan, I've long lost the passion that motivated me to write about them!"

There was a long silence before Acadian dubiously remarked, "Are you proposing a book with neither plot nor timeline?"

"Exactly! I am not a plot. I am an elf who travels, adventures and explores - with you, of course." I spread my arms expansively and twirled all the way around once before seating myself on a corner of the desk. "What's hard to understand about that? And would you rather read a story that I wrote when passion moved me to do so, or one that I had to force myself to write in support of some silly timeline?" I softened my tone. "Look, Acadian, you and I can travel between worlds and even move through time together. Why do my stories have to be 'in order'? When a butterfly moves across a meadow visiting flowers, does she do so 'in order'?"

The old paladin chuckled. "Despite my years and experience, the ability to successfully argue with an impassioned woman continues to elude me. Your butterfly metaphor contains a simple logic that I cannot refute. I will never fully understand the. . . whimsy that drives your choices but, over the years, I have grown to at least appreciate it."

"Does that mean. . . ?"

"Yes," he replied. "You are the true source of our passion for writing. I shall constrain you with neither plot nor chronology considerations."

"Thank you, my paladin." I crossed my dangling legs, folded my hands in my lap and smiled. "I know that I can sometimes be a little, well, erratic or even elusive."

Acadian sighed. "Like a butterfly in a thunderstorm, my bowgirl."

"This will be fun!" I chirped.

[Acadian]

mirocu- Thank you! Though it is ‘SkyBuffy’ sharing her stories, many of them will be set comfortably in Lothran’s 3rd Era.

hazmick- Fully embracing only one 'version' of Buffy who can time travel has actually ‘freed’ us to write happily in 3rd Era settings – if that makes sense. Thank you!

ghastley- Buffy has indeed been taking lessons from our favorite bard, Lisette. And how astute of you to point out why Buffy intentionally opted to delay summoning her lute until up on stage.

SubRosa- Freya the Weeble – what a perfect name for the busty bard! Thank you for your kind words about Buffy incorporating illusionary visions into her music.

mALX- Aww, thanks! I’m so glad you enjoyed the description of Buffy’s lute materializing, and agree with me that the music vid ‘feels’ quite Skyrimesque.

Lopov- Thank you for those kind words and enjoying the magical appearance of Buffy’s lute. I wouldn’t worry about Freya being able to follow Buffy – she has a couple impressive talents of her own.

Kazaera- Thanks for noting how Buffy’s nervousness gradually transitioned to confidence – I hoped that would come through well. I’m going to ask your forgiveness and remain coy about Buffy’s time travel until we can tell that story in our fiction. I confess I’m also still toying with about three possibilities and want to take some time to ponder which suits her best.

Grits- Thank you so much! I’m thrilled that ‘being Buffy’ still comes through after our lengthy sabbatical from fiction writing. While embracing SkyBuff keeps her gaming exclusively in Skyrim, I’m delighted to have discovered that it also frees our fiction to write anytime/anywhere in Tamriel.

DE- I’m so glad you enjoyed the rowdy taverners’ comments and Buffy’s song. And thanks for your kind words as Buffy muddled beyond her awkward opening moments on stage.

*

As Buffy’s short stories will range widely across Tamrielic time and provinces, I think it might be helpful to introduce each with mention of its ‘setting’. This next one-episode story finds Buffy in 3rd Era Cyrodiil, before she learned how to travel between Eras.

* * *

Unfinished Business – Buffy and the Box

Sanguine’s shrine rivaled the surrounding trees in height. The chubby horned elf of gray stone with a tankard in one hand watched over his revelers. Two Bosmer and a Khajiit in various states of dress and sobriety paid little attention as I slipped from Superian’s saddle to the ground.

From my mage satchel I produced a flask of Cyrodiilic brandy, then approached the shrine.

“You look familiar,” slurred one of the Bosmer.

“My name is Buffy and I was here a long time ago.”

Recognition appeared in his eyes. “Ah, yes. Buffet. I remember now. My Lord sent you to Leyawiin to loosen you up.”

“Stand aside, please. My business is with Lord Sanguine.”

He frowned, but did move out of my way. “Looks like my Lord’s goal to loosen you up failed. A shame, as you look like such a tasty little thing.” He lecherously licked his lips then grinned.

I sighed and approached the Prince of Debauchery. After placing the flask at his feet, I addressed the shrine. “Lord Sanguine. I successfully completed the task you asked for in Leyawiin some time ago. I ask that you return the red dress I was wearing when I cast your spell upon the Countess of Leyawiin and her guests.”

From everywhere and nowhere, his sarcastic voice filled the air around me. “The prodigal elf has returned, and successfully so it seems. Did you lose track of time?”

I stifled my bristling anger. “I was delayed, My Lord, by your colleague and his minions at Kvatch.”

“Dagon never would take my advice to lighten up. You could learn from that lesson, my tight-butted little elf.” He laughed cheerfully, blunting some of the sting in his words. “But no matter, for time means little to us immortals. You did a fine job in Leyawiin ‘exposing’ that stuffy countess and her noble friends. I must say it was a stroke of genius how you made an excuse to slip out of the dining hall so no one saw you cast my spell. When you reappeared naked yourself, the guards assumed you were a victim too. I almost spit brandy when one of the oafs chivalrously covered you with his own surcoat! Ah, yes, you provided me quite the pleasant diversion that evening. Well done!”

“I’m pleased the task was completed to your satisfaction, My Lord. The dress? You see I borrowed it from a-“

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you did.” I heard what seemed to be a bored yawn. “You’ll find your dress and whatever else you were wearing in the chest right behind you.”

I turned around in time to see a flat-topped sea chest of dwemer construction grow from a cloud of magic. The gray container radiated a continuous dull blue glow. I saw no latches but, as I passed my hand over the top, the lid slid open. Sure enough, I found Delphine Jend’s burgundy and green silk dress inside – none the worse for wear. I also found myself quite intrigued by the chest itself. I faced the shrine again. “Thank you, My Lord.”

“See?” he said. “No harm and a good time was had by all. In appreciation, I’ll even let you have one of my prized artifacts. Behold! Sanguine’s Rose!”

The conjuration magic this time was right in front of me, where a thorned staff appeared. It was topped by what appeared to be a carved rose in early bloom. I stared at the artifact hovering before me. Another staff? Sheogorath and Vaermina had long ago given me staves as well – which now sat gathering dust in the Arcane University’s Mystic Archives.

“I’m sure you’re bursting to know what it does!” exclaimed Sanguine proudly.

“Actually, I-“

“It briefly conjures a random daedra to help fight your foes!” he interrupted.

Like the one that killed my Savlian, I thought grimly. “Surely you must be reluctant to part with such a magnificent artifact, My Lord. Perhaps a more modest token might serve me just as well and allow you to retain your beautiful Rose?”

“You would dare bargain with a Daedra Lord?” he boomed ominously.

I gulped.

“You must have the stones of a minotaur hidden in those tight little greaves of yours.” His laughter then filled the meadow. “Very well, I’ll hear your proposal.”

I released the breath I just realized I'd been holding.

Emboldened by the fact that I was still an elf instead of an ash pile, I said, “Perhaps Your Lordship would consider keeping his magnificent staff and, instead, gifting this humble elf with the magical chest holding my red dress. . . and one other small favor that I’m sure is insignificant to one as powerful as yourself.”

He replied, “What a shame you are such prudish thing, for I can imagine countless uses for that silver tongue besides clever flattery.” He laughed again. “Ah, yes, the chest. . . ‘tis but one of my tens of thousands of realms. A tiny realm, yes, but notably larger inside than it appears. I’m intrigued. Continue.”

“In addition to the ability of summoning this magical chest, I would ask for the lifting from my spellbook of your magic that rather traumatically removes clothing.”

“I agree with your requests,” he said, “subject to two. . . minor conditions of my own.”

“The first condition?” I asked nervously.

“A simple thing, really. Join me for a friendly little drinking contest. It doesn’t have to be soon. As I’ve said, time is rather meaningless to a Daedric Prince. Shall I call for you in, say, two hundred years or so? Perhaps you will have loosened up some by then.”

I was mystified by his nonsensical request. . . but could see neither harm nor any real chance of it ever happening. “Agreed. And your second condition, My Lord?”

“Not that I’m a perverted voyeur, mind you. . . well, actually I am, but If you cast that Let’s Get Naked spell right here and now for me, I will then remove it from your repertoire of magicks and gift you with a spell to conjure the chest you desire.” He chuckled. “I assure you that I’m referring the blue dwemer box behind you, not the modest contents of your blouse.”

“And I assure you, Lord Sanguine, that Nordic breasts would hinder more than help this small-framed archer and equestrienne.”

“So you do have a sense of humor, after all!" he boomed jovially. "Well, will you humor me and display your wares in exchange for the dwemer box?”

“Agreed, My Lord.”

“Splendid!” The staff in front of me evaporated into a small puff of magic. I looked behind me to see that the magical chest had vanished as well. “We’ll talk about the staff again perhaps during our date in a couple centuries. And you will be able to summon that box as soon as you banish your clothing to it.”

By now, Sanguine’s three revelers were seated on the benches arrayed around the shrine, waiting for the show. I supposed I shouldn’t have expected to come away from negotiating with a Daedra Lord unscathed. Oh well, nothing I hadn’t displayed to countless waterfalls. I lifted my hand and cast Sanguine’s spell. Sure enough, I and the three revelers were instantly and fully exposed.

“Well done!” cried Sanguine. “While I do like to tease, you’ve been a good sport and have quite the fine little figure, my dear.”

The three revelers applauded, stood and opened several bottles of wine. The older Bosmer said, “Seeing as you’re now properly undressed, are you sure you won’t stay for dinner? Our Khajiiti sister here gives the best kitty licks, and you can be the main course!”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure I have somewhere else I have to be.”

Pleased to note that Sanguine had indeed replaced his silly spell, I filled my hand with the new magic and cast it. Sure enough, the magical chest appeared, floating slightly above the ground. I retrieved my clothing, dressed and dispelled the chest.

As I approached Superian, I said, “Did you enjoy the show?”

The mare nickered softly.

After mounting Superian, I turned her south.

“Acadian, you really don’t need to tell anyone about all this.”

“Of course not, Buffy,” he replied with a chuckle.

I glanced at the westering sun. “We should easily make Skingrad by nightfall. We’ll get a room at the tavern instead of the guild – I’ve dealt with enough lechery today without Vigge trying to watch me sleep.”

“That new chest seems deceptively large inside,” remarked Acadian. “There should be plenty of room for camping gear and provisions. Even spare waterskins, I should imagine.”

“And all the other things a girl needs. The shoe shoppe opens first thing in the morning.”