Buffy - Book 2, The Cloud Dancers of Valenwood Options

[Acadian]

Welcome to Book 2 and the continuing adventures of Buffy the Bosmeri mystic archer!

Buffy is a child of Tamriel, raised in Bravil and trained at the Arcane University. Her bigger story arc will eventually and magically cross temporal boundaries, enabling her to travel between the Third and Fourth Eras. Although Book 2 takes place in late Third Era Valenwood, Buffy's magicks and abilities reflect a blend of several games, with Skyrim being the most influential.

Near the end of Book 1, Buffy helped the man she loved, Savlian Matius, free his city of Kvatch. They were successful, but the terrible cost included Savlian's very life. It was a physically and emotionally broken bowgirl who retreated in grief and despair to her ancestral homeland. Book 2 picks up shortly thereafter and chronicles Buffy's journey of recovery and self-discovery through Valenwood.

Book 1 (in both its staggering 176 episode entirety and an executive summary conveniently distilled to 1650 words) is available in my sub forum. That said, enjoying Book 2 does not really require more information than is contained right here in these few introductory paragraphs. For those not familiar with Buffy's long history, reading the executive summary is a nice overview - but not critical for those who wish to just jump right in here. I have taken care within Book 2 to have Buffy review significant aspects of her past as they become relevant.

The Valenwood we depict will certainly be recognizable to those familiar with its lore, but I have taken some geographic and cultural liberties. While forests and jungles are plentiful, we have extended the rolling prairies of Anvil's Gold Coast across the Strid River into the northern portion of Valenwood. Among our several cultural departures from Bosmeri lore, the most significant is that there is no Green Pact in Buffy Fiction. While Bosmer certainly revere nature, they gratefully use both its flora and fauna as needed - restricted primarily by a deep revulsion to wasting nature's precious gifts. This is the same philosophy that Buffy learned as a child from her archery master, Daenlin, as described in Book 1.

Buffy's is a character-driven tale and our focus is on the journey more than the destination. I estimate that, at one episode per week, the book will take roughly six months to post. My fervent hope is that you find our humbly-offered efforts worthy of your time.

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~ Prelude ~

Episode 1

Spooked by small tremors beneath his hoofs, a young buck bolted from the moonlit meadow into the surrounding forest.

The ground’s slight quivering soon grew into a quiet rumble from deep beneath its surface. Despite the significant disturbance, it was but a tiny seedling that gently pushed aside the soil until it could unfurl into the night air. Once free, it quickly grew into a young sapling of about the same height as a person. A pair of opposing branches reached out to become arms. The trunk transformed into a feminine torso with two legs. Roots broke free from soil taking the shape of feet. Leaves grew into robes.

The resultant woman slipped her hood back upon slender shoulders, revealing olive skin and a softly featured face. Hair, the color of the loam from which she had risen, was gathered into a rather matronly low ponytail that trailed down her back. Eyes, dark as those of a doe, radiated love and compassion. She lifted her gaze and slowly rose toward the stars.

High enough in the same night sky to nearly touch Masser and Secunda there floated another robed figure. Her coloring was pale. The strong Nordic face was framed by a mane of freely flowing golden hair. Eyes the color of a bright afternoon sky carried wildness and a trace of sadness. She spread her robes into white wings and gently glided downward.

The Nirn Mother and Sky Goddess met atop a cloud and briefly embraced.

With a downward glance from Mara, a table along with three chairs grew from the cloud’s surface. “Will you do the honors, sister?”

Kynareth passed a hand over the table, causing an elegant tea service for three to appear. She looked to the east. “Do I see the slightest hint of light from the horizon?”

“I believe so,” replied Mara.

The two Divines waited quietly as they stood side-by-side, focusing their gaze eastward toward the promise of a new day.

When the grip of night could no longer restrain the sun and the earliest golden beams began to spill across the sky, a butterfly danced up over the edge of the cloud that served as tea platform. On pale green wings the tiny creature fluttered to a hover in front of the Divines.

If there was any warning or display of spellcasting, the blink of an eye would have missed it as the butterfly simply and instantly transformed into a third robed woman.

“Welcome, cousin,” said Mara.

The new arrival slipped back her hood, glanced down at the cloud vapors swirling around her feet then surveyed the scene. Unlike the white robes worn by Mara and Kynareth, the Goddess of Twilight’s robe was black, as was her severely restrained long silken hair. Emerald eyes conveyed the enigmatic blend of light and darkness that was her realm. Voluptuous ruby lips contrasted with her sharply angled cheekbones, gaunt face and creamily pale skin. Her exotic look was complemented by human-sized ears that each rose to a delicate point. “Mara, so nice to see you again. You also, Kyne. . . or is it Kynareth I understand you’re calling yourself these days?” Azura’s smile did not reach her eyes.

The two Divines, however, smiled graciously. “I am called Kynareth now. Thank you for coming. Tea?”

The three immortals sat. As Mara filled their cups, Kynareth asked, “I trust all is well in Moonshadow?”

“I believe you both know I can only leave it briefly twice a day during twilight. I presume you did not ask me here for tea and small talk?”

If the Divines took slight it did not show as Mara replied, “You are right of course, so I’ll get directly to the point. We need your help to foil Mehrunes Dagon’s pending plans of conquest.”

Azura lifted an eyebrow. “Go on.”

Mara took a deep breath. “I’m sure you realize that Dagon is only pausing after Kvatch. Now that he knows he can open portals from the Deadlands, he is doubtless engaged in the slow task of procuring and inscribing many more morpholiths into sigil stones. Meanwhile, his cultists relentlessly hunt for Martin Septim, hoping to snuff out any chance of relighting the protective Dragonfires. When Dagon has completed enough of the stones, we are sure he will unleash scores of his Daedra-spewing portals. . . no offence, mind you.”

“None taken, cousin,” Azura replied icily, “but why should I care about any of this?”

“Two reasons,” said Mara. “As Dagon opens more portals, his plague will spread across all of Tamriel, replacing your cycles of dawn and dusk with a permanent Oblivion sky.”

“Well, I concede you have a point.” Azura straightened slightly in her chair. “You mentioned a second reason that I should be concerned?”

“Yes,” stated Mara, “that brings us to an elf named Buffy who carries something we need.”

Azura’s eyes flashed concern, then anger. “What does my Slayer have to do with this?” Her tone was threateningly protective. “You Divines claim to care about mortals, yet you ignore their daily plight.” Emerald eyes glared at Kynareth with contempt. “As soon as Buffy’s mother, Marian, realized a new life grew within her, she asked you to be godmother to her child. And you ignored her.” Azura’s ire shifted to Mara as she continued. “Turning to the so called Goddess of Love, she received the same silent response. In desperation, Marian made her plea to the rising sun on the following morn. I did not ignore her.”

Azura seemed to compose herself somewhat as she lowered her cup to the table and continued, “Indeed, I was intrigued by the prospect. That I am poorly equipped for such a task did not deter me. It is my hand of faith that touched the tiny elf at the moment of her sunrise birth. I heard her first fitful, crying breaths. As I watched her grow from a distance, I confess the little urchin. . . touched something within me. I found myself often taking the innocuous form of a twilight butterfly in order to observe the mer-child more closely. The concept of love is a foreign one to my kind but, over time, I believe that is exactly what I began to feel for this young elf as I watched her stumble and scrape her knees, get teased by human children about her small size and large ears, drop her clothes at every waterhole and dance with butterflies. Sometimes she quite unknowingly even danced with me. I question whether you lofty Divines actually know what it means to love a child?”

The Goddess of Twilight clearly expected no answer as she continued, “Buffy’s bow kept her alive as she blossomed into young maturity. When she needed a means of replenishing its magic, who provided the answer in the form of an artifact that would help? I did. When love drew her toward mortal danger at Kvatch, who arranged for Lord Peryite to provide her the training needed to survive the Deadlands and fight Daedra? I did. When she prayed to each of you for comfort after her body and heart were broken mere months ago, what response did she get?” Azura’s words dripped with disdain for the pair of Divines as she answered her own question, “The same silence you gave her mother.”

“Your points are well taken, cousin,” replied Mara gently. “We Divines are skilled with creation, but our efforts to intervene directly with the affairs of mortals have led to disaster more often than not. At best, our ability to communicate directly with them is vague and tenuous. Even those who devote themselves to us in priestly service struggle to understand our intent. As a Daedra Lord, you must also realize that when you effectively claimed this child at birth, you quite fettered our already limited ability to communicate with or even influence her.”

Azura's eyes and tone softened noticeably. “I lack your skill with creation, cousins. And my passions sometimes lead to . . . regrettable results when dealing with mortals as well. But unlike you, I don’t shy from the need when it arises.”

It was Kynareth who spoke next. “It seems clear, ladies, that cooperation might be appropriate here.”

[Acadian]

In Episode 5, a courier dove from the Arcane University brought the bowgirl a spell that conjures a powerful and magical weapon.

hazmick- I’m so pleased that Haa-Rei finds Buffy’s mystic archery interesting. I assure you that Buffy is fascinated by Haa-Rei’s own blending of bow and magic in ESO.

ghastley- Thanks! Buffy can dispel the bow at will. Our setting for Book 2 is Valenwood during the late Third Era – after the Kvatch gate is closed but before Dagon assembles enough sigil stones to open a bunch more gates.

DE- Thank you. I’ve thought for a long time that mages should have a less mundane way of sending messages than normal couriers – hence, the courier doves. The loss of Savlian Matius will have a lasting impact on Buffy.

Lopov- Thank you (and DE as well) for mentioning Buffy’s vigilance. Part of that was her natural fragile skittishness and part of it was exactly because she did not have a bow. I’m so pleased that you like her new bow!

mALX- Thank you for your kind words. I know that Buffy’s history is long and detailed so I’m hoping, when bringing up things from her past, to provide a bit of context for newer readers and even to refresh the memories of long-term readers. Yes, Daenlin and Kud-Ei from Bravil are a big part of why Buffy is an archer-illusionist and Boderi Farano of the University is the one who really taught the mystic archer how to fully blend bow and magic. As you can tell, her new bow is quite the hybrid, incorporating elements of spirit magic, bound bow and conventional bow.

mirocu- With nearly 8000 hours of TES playtime, I find Buffy’s spirit remarkably true and unchanging but, as to be expected, her trappings do evolve over time. Little did you or I expect that the magical courier dove concept pioneered by Lothran and Buffy to facilitate their exchange of letters would find a home in Buffy’s story! Thanks so much for popping by to let me know you’re reading. That means the world to Buffy and I.

SubRosa- Aww, thank you for the warm encouragement. As you know, we tried several bows before settling on this hybrid. Like you, I love that its origin is so influenced by those precious to Buffy.

Renee- Thanks! We spent lots of time with three different bows before committing to this one. Shattering that rock is Buffy’s clue that the bow probably has armor piercing among its magicks. I consider that an important RP element since arrows in game pierce steel as easily as leather. I’m glad you enjoyed her selfie with bow.

Grits- Thanks much for catching up with us! As I’ve said so often, I love the encouragement you give us and your eye for details. I think you now see some of the challenges we faced when TES V collided with Buffy’s established lore regarding Kyne’s Order of the Ice Dragons and Skyrim’s history. Not to mention the whole time change thing between Oblivion and Skyrim.

*

Today’s episode is short so let me use the opportunity to briefly review and look ahead.

The prelude established some deep background regarding the small role that Buffy’s dragon spirit plays in Tamriel’s future - and the large, but secretive, role that Azura continues to play in her goddaughter’s personal destiny. All of this remains quite unknown to Buffy.

Parts 1 and 2, while quite brief, served to equip Buffy with the trappings that a horse-crazy bowgirl needs. With a mighty mare and a powerful bow, Buffy is now ready to focus on her Valenvoyage of self-discovery.

We begin Part Three now, which takes place primarily in the Strid River Valley and adjacent rolling plains that we have incorporated into northwest Valenwood. I’m sure you will see the influence of tribes that once inhabited the great plains of North America. Those familiar with Jane Auel’s ‘Earth’s Children’ series will also recognize strong influences from her storytelling of prehistoric clans – even the title of Part Three honors the name of one of her books.

Peeking further ahead, Part Four will see Buffy travel deep into the forests and jungles of central Valenwood where it is said some of the trees grow tall enough to kiss the clouds. Part Four will also conclude this book and find Buffy drawn toward Cyrodiil.

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~ Part 3 – Plains of Passage ~

Episode 6

The forest was nostalgically similar to that carpeting the Niben Valley around Bravil. Streaks of morning sunshine penetrated its foliage to dance across the right side of mare and elf as we leisurely made our way. The ground had been gradually rising for several hours now and I noticed the forest beginning to thin. Less and less often did I find myself having to lean well forward against Superian’s neck as she dipped her head to pass under low branches. By my reckoning, this day would see us traverse a high and arid area of rolling prairie before descending to the Strid River that defined Valenwood’s northern border. I had no intention of crossing into Cyrodiil but I figured the river would comfortably support a campsite long enough for me to hunt a deer, process its meat into dried strips for traveling and even tan the hide into buckskin. Birds punctuated the relaxing morning with song as my thoughts drifted to the prospect of fresh fish for dinner followed by a cleansing swim.

Superian’s sudden stop jarred me into realizing the treetops had gone silent.

Blocking the path ahead stood a minotaur. Taller than an Altmer and several times as wide, he cut an imposing figure. I knew these creatures to be both foul-tempered and territorial. As I pondered whether to retreat, the bull-man snorted and pawed the ground with one hoof in challenge.

My mare answered defiantly in kind.

“You’re right,” I whispered to her as I eased Slayer from my back and nocked an arrow. “We no longer need to run from such brutes.”

The minotaur raised a crude mace and shook it threateningly. Superian read the signals from my knees and stood motionless as I drew and aimed. While my mounted accuracy did not match what I could achieve on foot, this was a large target. I loosed.

The arrow slammed into the front of his left shoulder, staggering the beast.

By the time I drew and aimed again, the minotaur had closed nearly half the distance. My arrow flew harmlessly under his raised mace arm.

Superian turned slightly and we bolted forward, passing close by his left – unarmed - side. After a few seconds, I wheeled the mare around sharply, snatching a third arrow from my quiver.

Our foe had turned and begun his charge anew. My arrow hit high on his chest. He staggered, dropping the mace as I readied a fourth arrow. After a long moment he fell backwards, resonating against the ground with finality. Returning the unneeded missile to its quiver, I shouldered Slayer. “Thank you, Superian.” I leaned forward and patted her neck as we closed the distance to the minotaur. “You’re a brave and steady warhorse.”

I attributed Superian’s improved courage under fire more to the archer on her back than the dragon spirit within – for when I was not in her saddle, she was no braver than any prey animal. Aside from her changes in size and appearance, I had noticed few differences in the mare since Phantom had joined her. She did seem generally less skittish though. I liked to imagine that the ever-present companionship of the spirit she now carried inspired the same comfort and confidence that Acadian afforded me. Perhaps part of her calmness now was due to her larger size and what Acadian assured me was a much more robust constitution. I had, in fact, noticed that when she sustained minor cuts, scrapes or insect bites they healed completely within a matter of moments. Overall though, Superian was still very much my precious mare.

I severed my arcane link to Slayer, allowing bow and quiver to evaporate as I dismounted. It was a welcome break from the weapon’s small but constant magicka drain required to sustain its presence.

I knelt to examine the semi-bovine corpse. My spent arrows would dispel within the hour. The bow’s quiver had a capacity of twenty five and materialized with a full complement each time I summoned it. I did note a small pouch at the monster’s waist and recovered several assorted rubies, sapphires and even a small diamond.

While I could sustain and shoot Slayer from astride Superian, my positional spellcasting limitations precluded summoning it from the saddle. If I wanted the bow available while riding, I had to conjure and shoulder it on the ground before mounting. I did so and we continued on our way.

Having used Slayer for nearly a tenday now, I had learned more of its magic. The weapon’s primary attribute was the wondrous ability to help this weak elf with its powerful draw and control recovery to nearly eliminate any sound as it fired. Even though I had not yet engaged an armored foe, I was convinced that the bow infused its arrows with the ability to pierce armor. Experimenting with Azura’s Star had revealed that the weapon could channel the arcane energy of its dying victims into magicka gems. While this ability could be useful for filling such stones, Slayer did not need recharging. Its magic was, like its very presence, drawn from my own magicka reserves.

The sun had still not reached its zenith when I drew Superian to a stop, allowing our long ears to listen carefully. I smiled at the welcome sound of trickling water that indicated a spring or small stream ahead.

As we drew closer, my keen eyes detected no movement or threats. Noting Superian’s relaxed ears and breathing, I was confident that her long nose picked up no scents of concern ahead. “Let’s stop up here to get a drink and fill our waterskin.”