Buffy - Book 4, Drodda the Icewitch Options

[Acadian]

Welcome to Buffy’s fourth book! As ever, her tale of continuing adventure remains one that is character-driven with more focus on her journey than the destination. Buffy is a magically inclined Bosmer. She travels intertwined with the spirit of an old ethereal paladin named Acadian who sometimes offers advice. Sometimes she listens.

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 elf who retreated in grief and despair to her ancestral homeland. Book 2 picked up shortly thereafter and chronicled Buffy's journey of recovery and self-discovery through Valenwood. Book 3 took place in Cyrodiil and saw the Oblivion Crisis finally yield to the dawn of a new Era – even as Buffy accepted the challenges of walking an ancient path of her own and becoming a paladin of Kynareth.

Books 1 through 3, in their entirety, as well as an Executive Summary concise enough to comfortably be read in one sitting, can be found on our sub forum. That said, enjoying Book 4 does not really require more information than is contained right here in these few introductory paragraphs. I have taken care to have Buffy review significant aspects of her past as they become relevant. I welcome questions relating to her past though, that I may try and amplify or clarify things should our ‘review as we go’ approach prove wanting. More specifically, I want new readers to feel comfortable just jumping right into Book 4 without feeling obligated to read Buffy’s previous books first.

Book 4 joins Buffy in Cyrodiil shortly after the Oblivion Crisis. Soon, however, she finds herself confronted by a threat so vexing that the only path to resolving it will require the direct intervention of Kynareth, and for Buffy to forsake the life she knows.

I estimate that at one episode per week, Book 4 will require just under a year to post. My fervent hope is that you find our humbly offered efforts worthy of your time.

* * *

~ Part One – Cyrodiil ~

Episode 1

Reluctantly, I allowed my healing bond with Countess Odalys Goldwine to dissipate. She opened her eyes, saw the tears in mine and managed a weak smile. “Tell me the truth.”

I took her hand. “The wasting sickness that began in your foot has a Daedric taint. It strongly resists healing and has spread throughout your body. Were I to remove it now, it would destroy every organ it has infested. I’m sorry, Countess. Even with the assistance of Kynareth, I cannot save you.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Buffy," the Countess of Kvatch replied. "I will be at peace knowing that if anyone could have healed me it would have been you. Ironic,” a coughing spasm interrupted her words for several moments, “that Ormellius’ mage encased me in that magical ice to protect me from the Daedra. It almost worked.”

“I know they did their best,” I said. “Given the severe time constraint of Daedra breaking down the door, I’m not surprised that Count Goldwine’s court mage inadvertently left a small part of your left foot unprotected. That is how the wasting taint entered your body.”

“And I thought it was just an annoying limp I’d have to deal with.” Coughing wracked her body again as an attentive handmaiden quickly wiped away the blood it produced.

“In the months you’ve had since Kvatch was retaken from the Daedra,” I said, “you’ve largely restored this city to its former glory while inspiring your people. I’m sure the late Count would be proud. I know I will always be grateful for the mutual consolation we shared after both losing our mates. Let me ease your pain.”

“No,” she stayed my hands, “that will cloud my thinking and I have a request I must make of you while I still can.”

“I will do whatever I’m able Milady.”

“After I die, rule of Kvatch will be a ripe target. My city deserves better than the unproven offspring of some ambitious noble like the skooma-sucking son of Count Bravil.”

“I agree. How can I help?” I asked while trying to restrain a rising sense of panic. Please don’t ask me to try and become the Countess of Kvatch. As much as I love the city that Savlian Matius and I fought for and he died for, it harbors memories that are too. . . painful to make it my home. Not that the Elder Council would ever consider me – a Bosmeri orphan who can barely rule herself.

“I would like the Champions of Cyrodiil to succeed me,” she said. “Since moving to Kvatch and taking leadership of the Order of the Wolf, Sirs Agronak and Mazoga have proven their love for this city.” Her words were growing weaker and coming slowly now. “I have spoken with them and they are willing to accept the appointment if offered. I want you to be my advocate before the Elder Council. There will be resistance because they are orcs and neither is of noble birth. Will you do this for me?”

“I will advocate for you Milady, for I can think of no finer potential count and countess for Kvatch than Sirs Agronak and Mazoga.” Through her pain of trying to breathe, I could see a sense of relief in her eyes. “You must rest now.” As she almost imperceptibly nodded, I laid hands on her again.

I eased her pain then, mercifully, she slept. With her mistress asleep, the Countess’ handmaiden shifted her focus to me, bringing cool water, hot tea and fresh bread with soft cheese. We kept vigil through the night.

By dawn Countess Odalys was gone. “Join your Count in Aetherious now,” I said softly while her hands were still warm. As I left the Countess’ bedchamber, I was met by Sirs Mazoga and Agronak.

Their hopeful looks turned to despair as soon as they saw my face. Mazoga engulfed my shoulder with a massive hand. “Sorry, Buff.”

I tried to smile. “She died peacefully. I understand you're both aware of her request regarding a successor?”

Both orcs nodded. It was Agronak who spoke. “Countess Odalys was a fine ruler. We’d be honored if chosen to take up her mantle and finish what she started.”

I nodded. “I’m leaving almost straightaway to relay her wishes to the Imperial Council.”

After tearful goodbyes, followed by a quick visit to Savlian’s grave, Superian and I were on the road and riding into the morning sun.

**

My hands fidgeted as I sat on the hard chair. I’m sure I would have been tapping my feet had they been able to reach the floor. I looked up at the guard posted by the door. “How long do you think before the Imperial Council finishes deliberating and gives me their decision?”

The guard quietly replied, “No way to tell, Dame Buffy. You made a persuasive case. There are many in the Legion who well-remember what you, Captain Matius and the Champions of Cyrodiil did to free Kvatch. For what it’s worth, I think those knights could provide the strength and inspiration to make that city flourish once again.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I hope the Council agrees.”

The door opened and I was ushered back into the Council’s chamber. Those holding the future of Kvatch in their hands sat on the far side of a wide table as I stood before them. I could not read their faces.

“Dame Buffy,” began High Chancellor Ocato, “the Council has reached a decision regarding the late Countess of Kvatch's wishes regarding her successor. Odalys could not have chosen a better advocate. You certainly made a strong case that her success in rebuilding Kvatch should lend great strength to her recommendation. Further, you spoke eloquently to the character of Sirs Mazoga and Agronak, gained through your long history of friendship and fighting by their sides. You also made a strong argument for the superiority of earning one’s noble title via deed instead of birth.”

I realized I was holding my breath and forced myself to breathe. Their words were encouraging. So far.

“That acknowledged,” he continued as my hopes sank, “the Council feels Kvatch would be best served with the Champions of Cyrodiil remaining at the helm of the city’s valiant order of knights. Further, with so many changes affecting the Empire, we feel the people need. . . stability, a feeling of normalcy regarding how the Empire has always done business. Therefore, during a subsequent deliberation, we shall choose the next ruler of Kvatch from one of the well-known and respected noble families of Cyrodiil. Please accept our appreciation for bringing the late Countess’ recommendation to us for consideration. This proceeding is concluded.”

My hands were behind my back but I didn’t need to see them to know how white the knuckles of my clenched fists were. Nor did I need to see the hot flush of anger that rose above the neckline of my buckskins to know the color that traveled up to my face and out to the tips of my ears. I looked at each Councilor. Round-eared Imperials with soft hands, every one of them. Not one had ever seen a day of combat. Easy, Buffy, Countess Odalys was an Imperial as well. That is not the problem. That these ignorant fools are leading the Empire is the problem. I need to restrain my tongue. Nothing good for Kvatch can come from a display of anger toward them. I swallowed hard and finally spoke, “Countess Odalys was a skilled leader and friend. I appreciate the opportunity to have conveyed her considered recommendation.” I turned and left the chamber hastily so they would not see the tears I fought to hold back.

[Acadian]

Previously- During Buffy’s travel from the Imperial City to Bravil, she noted a degree of lethargy in Superian. She laid on hands and assessed that nothing was physically wrong with the mare. That evening, with the mare safely recalled within Buffy, Acadian was able to discern that the problem was with Superian’s spirit mate, Phantom – the dragon created by Kynareth that served as Acadian’s mount during the Great Dragon War. Something was slowly draining Phantom’s spirit. Buffy asked for an audience with Kynareth to, hopefully, learn more.

*

Rider- Thank you for asking about how Phantom and Superian’s spirits were joined. Here is a slightly edited excerpt from our Executive Summary covering the early portion of Book 2:
Whenever Acadian asks Phantom to join him, the dragon transitions Superian from mare into spirit form so she can be absorbed within Buffy. When Buffy asks Superian to join her, the reverse happens and the mare responds by moving the spirit from within Buffy and assuming physical form again. While our solution is a bit complex, it allows Buffy to avoid leaving her mare unattended in a dangerous land, and also provides the mare a lifespan that likely rivals Buffy’s.

Lena Wolf- Thank you! Yes, ride fast and shoot straight!

SubRosa- Thank you for the kind words about Buffy’s struggles with self-confidence. Strange indeed whatever is sapping Phantom but, like you and Acadian, I expect Kynareth can divine what the problem is.

Lopov- Your support as a healer is most gratifying indeed. I think it takes a very special nurturing and empathic nature. Over time, I think we’re seeing that evolve to be Buffy’s primary calling. She is a paladin though (not a priest or pure restoration mage) and will need to develop a balance between smiting her foes and healing her allies.

Renee- Thank you. I agree that Countess Buffy would be a bad idea. Yes, Acadian is a long dead paladin whose spirit dwells within Buffy. It’s not as intrusive as it sounds for, over time, their spirits have become inextricably intertwined almost into one. Sometimes he offers advice; sometimes she listens.

Grits- As ever, your gracious and astute comments are most welcome. Acadian is occasionally able to help talk his butterfly elf through her emotional crises. I’m glad you enjoyed the review of how Buffy ‘unsummons’ and ‘summons’ Superian and the complex interwoven spirits involved. In Buffy lore, a stone is 14 pounds so that puts Buffy at 84 pounds. She is actually lighter than she looks, for like all members of her Clouddancer clan she has light, birdlike bones as an adaptation for life in the highest branches of graht oak trees. Quite a bit more on Cloud Dancers later in the book. Incidentally, Buffy’s height is 4’8”.

Episode 3

Along a secluded stretch of beach just north of Bravil, I gazed across the Niben River at the trees along the eastern shore. Soon enough, Magnus’ first rays spilled through their branches. I heard a slow beating of wings behind me and turned in time to see her gently land. The white light she emanated gave a glow to her mane of hip-length thick golden tresses and gown of snowy white. She was much taller than I, and the suggestion of curves beneath the flowing silk made it clear she was more voluptuous as well. Such was the case with all Nordic women though. Her eyes were bright blue – not unlike my own.

“Th-thank you, My Lady, for coming to me,” I managed to stammer.

Kynareth’s warm smile did much to set me at ease. “I will not forsake my paladin, Buffy.” I recognized her voice – which seemed to gently echo all around me - from when she had proclaimed me her paladin and helped me heal Sir Agronak after the Oblivion Crisis not so long ago. “This is my natural form; however, it is . . . less than ideal for mundane business in the presence of mortals.” The glowing light around her faded as her appearance wavered, changing. A moment later an attractive but otherwise unremarkable Nordic woman stood before me. I still recognized her but, the long silk gown had become a simple linen dress of knee length and cream in color. Her hair was now restrained into a pair of plaits draped in front of her shoulders. And, of course, her wings were gone.

I realized my mouth was open. I closed it.

“This manifestation allows me to pass unobtrusively among mortals when I wish it.” Her voice, though still recognizable had lost its echo and gained the hint of a Nordic accent. “What troubles you, my paladins, for I sense unease in both of you?”

It was Acadian who spoke. “Your creation, the dragon, Phantom, is having what residual magicka she has retained after death very slowly drained from her spirit. We do not understand the source of the intrusion or how to stop it.”

Kynareth tilted her head slightly. “Will you bring forth the mare, Superian, who currently hosts Phantom’s spirit?”

“Of course, My Lady,” I replied. “Superian, I need you.” The same glacier colored mist into which she had dematerialized the evening prior formed in front of me. Quite quickly, the form of my mare took shape. When the mist cleared, Superian stood before us.

Kynareth took a step closer and allowed my mare to smell and investigate this new stranger. A gentle snort of approval elicited a smile from the Goddess. Superian offered no objection as Kynareth laid on hands and kept them there for some time.

With a slight furrow on her brow, she lowered her hands and announced, “You are correct. I know the cause, but fear it will not be easy to stop.”

“I have faced difficult challenges before,” I replied with more confidence than I felt.

Kynareth said, “Her energy is being siphoned by an errant sorceress known as Drodda the Icewitch, who has clearly located the long-frozen remains of our dragon. Dragons are beings of great mystic power. Even after several millennia, Phantom’s corpse still contains significant residual magicka. By siphoning this magic from the corporeal form of our ice dragon, Drodda seeks to enhance her own considerable skill with ice magic. That is what is weakening Phantom’s spirit. This ice wizard is dangerous and, if successful, will become much more so.”

The words of my own doctrine silently thrust themselves into my thoughts: ’If you are kind to me, I will love you dearly; if you are a threat to me or my friends, I will likely kill you.’ “Tell us,” I implored, “where is this sorceress who threatens my dragon-mare. I will seek her out and kill her!”

“Where is not the challenge, Buffy,” replied the Goddess.

“I don’t understand, My Lady,” I said.

Kynareth sighed. “Drodda and her foul plans exist in the Second Era - fully 750 years in the past.”

I scratched my head, growing more and more confused. “If she’s long in the past, how can she be affecting Phantom now? Has it already occurred? I still don’t understand.”

“Nor would I expect you to, Buffy. Those who have attempted to study chronomancy have invariably gone mad in the pursuit. I caution you not to dwell on the circular spiral of danger that questions about time can generate.”

“My Lady,” protested Acadian, “is there naught can be done?” I sensed his frustration and shared it.

“Perhaps,” replied Kynareth. “I shall need to consult the Dragon God of Time about the possibility of sending you after Drodda. If it is possible, Buffy, you must ask yourself if you would be willing to forsake your life here. . . your belongings, dear friends like Daenlin, Nilawen, Kud-Ei, Ardaline, Boderi Farano, Sirs Mazoga and Agronak.” After a moment, she added, “I would not be among them, but there are those who might argue the spirit of a dead dragon is not worth the risk of such an endeavor.”

I opened my mouth but Kynareth gently placed two elegant fingers over my lips to silence me. “Do not answer yet. Consider carefully and discuss it with Acadian while I consult with Akatosh. In the meantime, take comfort in knowing that we do have some time. It will be months before Drodda is able to draw enough magicka from Phantom to truly endanger her spirit.”

“I thank you for your assistance and wisdom,” I said, “and will await your further guidance.”

Her hand reached out and cupped my cheek. “It is you who may be doing a service for me, my young paladin. Phantom is my creation. She is precious to me as she is to both of you. . . and your mare carries all of her that I have left. Besides, Drodda represents a serious threat to those who live in her time. I must leave you now, but you will know when I have news for you.”

“My Lady?” I asked tentatively.

“Yes, Buffy?”

“How are you so readily able to list off my dearest friends?”

Her smile was surprisingly tender. “I knew you from the moment Acadian’s spirit joined yours while you were still in your mother’s womb. I was there at the moment of your sunrise birth alongside Nilawen as she delivered you. Yes, alongside my cousin Azura, for as your godmother, she was there as well. The Mistress of Twilight had neither aptitude for nor experience with children but did what she believed to be best for you as she claimed your spirit, effectively warding it from both Daedric Princes and Divines. That prevented me from reaching out to you until only recently, when Azura finally realized you were a child of light, lifted her warding and recommended you seek out the Divines. Be assured though, I was there. For every scraped knee. Every time you were teased by the human children about your large ears or small size. When you loosed your first arrow, cast your first spell, graduated from the Arcane University. When you discovered the wonders of love in the arms of Savlian Matius. And, yes, when you were forced to deal with the pain of his death. I know the number of hairs on your head, my paladin.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Did I answer your question?”

Quite overwhelmed, I was speechless and barely managed a meek nod.

“I have you at quite a disadvantage, Buffy, for I have known you all your life. You are only now just beginning to know me. As I said, you will know when I have word.” And with that, Kynareth was gone.