Buffy - Book 3, We're Having a Crisis Here! Options

[Acadian]

Welcome to Book 3! As ever, Buffy’s tale of continuing adventure remains one that is character-driven with more focus on her journey than the destination.

Buffy is a Bosmeri 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 Eras.

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 picks up shortly thereafter and chronicles Buffy's journey of recovery and self-discovery through Valenwood. Book 3 takes place in Cyrodiil and will see the Oblivion Crisis finally yield to the dawn of a new Era – even as Buffy accepts the challenges of walking an ancient path of her own. The small elf has traditionally danced between darkness and light; in this book, she must ultimately and entirely commit to one or the other.

Books 1 and 2, in their staggering 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 3 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. More specifically, I want new readers to feel comfortable just jumping right into Book 3 without feeling obligated to read Buffy’s previous books first.

I estimate that at one episode per week, Book 3 will require roughly seven months to post. My fervent hope is that you find our humbly-offered efforts worthy of your time.

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~ Part 1 – Welcome Back to Cyrodiil ~

Episode 1

The few determined streaks of early sunshine that managed to penetrate the forest merely teased my right shoulder with their fleeting warmth. Superian’s visible breath drifted up and back to join with the misty fog of my own. Kitsune – my vixen familiar – loped along easily but alertly beside us. The sound of hooves on the Green Road’s worn cobblestones was comforting, but could mask the subtle sounds of approaching danger from the sensitive long ears that all three of us possessed. My sharp eyes, augmented by twin rings of detect life, moved constantly, even as I also relied on the long noses of my precious mare and fox familiar to detect the scent of foes.

Numerous small life signs on the road ahead brought us to a stop. I urged the mare forward cautiously until the forms of half a dozen vultures and several jackals squabbling among themselves came into view. Enough of the armored head and reptilian body remained to identify the carcass they feasted upon as that of a clannfear.

Kitsune teleported up to her spot between my lap and the pommel of Superian’s saddle. The carrion feeders were larger than she and we had no interest in fighting them. We skirted the edge of the road, and those tasked by the Nirn Mother with cleaning her forest briefly gave ground. The unmistakably large tracks of a grizzly bear in the soft ground just off the road told the story. Soon enough, the hungry arguments of the scavengers and acrid smell were behind us. Kitsune leapt to the ground to resume her easy lope alongside Superian.

Cyrodiil had become a much more dangerous place since my return from Valenwood a few months ago. Oblivion Gates had begun appearing with disturbing frequency. Most of the Daedra remained close to the gates that spawned them but some roamed - leaving terror and death in their wake.

The Nirn Mother had responded to the flaming blights within her forests. Grizzly bears, like the one responsible for the tracks I had just seen, were not shy about attacking Daedra.

Spriggans were now more numerous. They and their black bears struggled to protect and restore the forest. They also diligently planted vines near closed Oblivion Gates that could, over time, heal the charred land and even consume the jagged stone detritus left behind.

Thoughts of Oblivion Gates drew my mind to a dear friend, Sir Mazoga. The last I had seen of her was when she and her mate, Sir Agronak, left Kvatch with Martin Septim in tow. Since then, the only word I had of the orcish pair came from reading about how successful they were at slaying Daedra and closing Oblivion Gates. Their squire, Fanador, had become quite the prolific scribe when it came to recording the heroic deeds of his knights.

Well before the sun reached its zenith, it was swallowed by a darkening sky. As we cautiously continued, the road’s next curve allowed a better view. Fear and anger grew within me as I saw the flaming arc of jagged stone that stood before us in the distance. Ominous streaks of red lightning pierced the sinister clouds that hung above this portal to the realm of Mehrunes Dagon.

Had this Oblivion Gate been out in the wilderness, I would have given it a wide berth and moved on.

Alas, such was not the case here.

Heaving a troubled sigh, I whispered to the spirit of the old paladin who dwelled within me, “Acadian, I know the message Kud-Ei gave me last night from Boderi Farano directed that I report to the University straightaway, but this gate is close enough to the Green Road that it poses a serious threat to any who might attempt to travel between Bravil and the vulnerable villages and inns south of Pell’s Gate. I-I can’t leave it open.�

“I share your trepidation, Buffy,� replied Acadian, “but I am proud of your choice.�

While maintaining a good distance from the gate, I circuitously maneuvered Superian up onto a ridgeline that provided adequate range and cover. After carefully selecting a concealed spot among several trees, I dismounted Superian and unshouldered Slayer – my bow.

Kitsune and I crept just clear enough of the trees to gain a commanding view of the gate. Sure enough, I could see a pair of scamps and a single Daedroth patrolling just outside the gate.

There was no banner planted in front of the flaming portal to indicate anyone was inside attempting to close it. Such warning precautions had become necessary. Whether Mehrunes Dagon realized it or not, the very sigil stones that powered these gates had incentivized their destruction. They were prized for their ability to powerfully enchant items with neither training nor access to specialized altars. Bands of intrepid adventurers had grown wealthy closing gates and harvesting the valuable stones. Some of them had undergone the Legion’s gate-closing training program conducted at the Arena, while others had simply gleaned what knowledge they needed from the authoritative writings of Fanador as he described the exploits of his lieges.

“Well, here goes, my paladin. We’ve got to clear those sentries first,� I whispered. “I hope I know what we’re doing.�

As soon as the emerald swirl completed its journey from my fingertips, the Daedroth roared a challenge to the scamps who answered with a barrage of fireballs.

As the Daedra battled, I nocked an arrow.

When the burned and wounded Daedroth stood victoriously alone, I drew my bowstring. The weapon responded by assisting me to fully achieve and maintain its heavy draw. I was able to leisurely aim, then loose. Slayer also helped control the bowstring’s recovery, resulting in a quiet hiss instead of the loud snap normally associated with releasing an arrow. My missile lethally penetrated the monster’s chest.

A scan of the area detected no pink glowing life signs nearby.

I knew I had to move fast, as the Oblivion Gate would soon spawn replacement sentries.

Superian quickly and surely carried me directly down the side of the ridgeline. When I could feel the heat from the portal’s flames, I dismounted and summoned my elven hunting knife. I cut a green branch to a length that matched my height then affixed the small green Mages Guild pennant I carried. I then planted my banner near the gate. It would suffice to warn any who approached that a guild mage was inside. Those foolish enough to enter such a marked gate could expect to die when whoever was inside pulled the sigil stone. We had originally learned this lesson the hard way when Menien Goneld did not survive the closing of Kvatch’s gate.

I checked that my waterskin was full, wishing I had two of them. After augmenting my twin detect life rings with a third ring to help resist the heat of the Deadlands, I asked, “Acadian, would you recall our dragon-mare to safety within us?�

“Vensahliz, I need you,� was my paladin’s simple incantation. Vensahliz was Phantom’s name in dragon tongue, meaning wind-phantom-ice. Phantom was Acadian’s ice dragon mount. Though they both perished serving Kyne during the great dragon war at the end of the Merethic Era over four thousand years ago, their spirits lived – Acadian within me and Phantom within Superian. In order to return to Acadian, Phantom transformed the body she shared with Superian into the essence of their combined spirit. The mare evaporated into a pale blue vapor which made its way to my fingers. I closed my open hand to absorb her.

A moment later, Acadian announced, “She is safely with me now.�

With a glance from me, Kitsune disappeared. Satisfied with the preparations, I took a deep breath. Before I could change my mind, I slipped into the flaming portal.

Even as the dry heat began to permeate my buckskins, I sought a place of hiding among the rocks. The layout of this piece of the Deadlands seemed blessedly simpler than that which Savlian and I had navigated at Kvatch. I moved quickly to the sigil tower, relying on my detection magic and stealth to avoid several roaming Daedra.

Working my way up the tower, I used illusion spells to start several fights among its guardians. The ensuing distractions served to focus their attention away from me as I manipulated any doors or switches necessary to ascend.

The top of this sigil tower was guarded by a storm atronach and dremora warrior. After my magic coaxed the two into combat against each other, I sprinted to the sigil stone and grabbed it.

As the tower rumbled and began to collapse, intense white light forced my eyes closed and I felt myself falling and spinning. After a few terrifying seconds, I bounced off the cold ground of Nirn and scrambled to my feet.

[Acadian]

Previously- Buffy continued her voyage toward Leyawiin. Meeting the ship’s charming and flirtatious first mate elicited painful memories of her failed attempts at romance after the loss of Savlian. As the ship prepared for a brief port call at Bravil, Buffy elected to remain aboard for a quiet dinner with her cabin mate.

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SubRosa- I’m glad that Buffy’s feminine reactions (voluntary and otherwise) to Torlin’s gusher of charm rang true. I did have fun making up those ship names! As you can see, Buffy still has work to do reconciling Savlian’s ghost with any possible future romance. At this point, I’m proud of her for at least being willing to try.

Renee- How neat that Torlin’s smooth charm reminds you of the Weet Bandit! Buffy’s diminutive size and ‘elf next door’ look are not likely to intimidate anyone. . . so she has learned to rely on speechcraft as well as any advantage to be gained from being underestimated. You are exactly right that Vandrelis appeared in Book 2. Thanks for remembering!

ghastley- It always seemed absurd that the Niben’s delta area around Leyawiin precluded navigation to/from Topal Bay, but the only mod I used to correct it was imagination. In Buffy fiction, it is not landlocked and those using the Yellow Road to and from Leyawiin rely on a ferry to cross the fully navigable Niben. We’ll see that in the next couple episodes. Regarding Skywatch, I confess I did not delve deeply into possible impact of the crisis on Auridon. I figure it is reasonable that Auridon could be struggling but still viable with at least one functioning port.

Lopov- I thought Quill-Weave, as a traveling writer, would be a perfect cabin mate and opportunity for Buffy to explain a couple guild things that are unique to Buffy fiction. Buffy’s saga is so sprawling that I figured reviewing her failed courtship with Vandrelis from Book 2 would be prudent.

Grits- Quill-Weave’s dry but curious manner was fun to write, as was Torlin’s over-the-top charm. I appreciate your comment about weaving fun and humor into this past episode, while finishing on a rather sobering note.

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Episode 11

The port call in Bravil was predictably uneventful, given that Quill-Weave and I had stayed aboard for dinner and crawled into our hammocks early.

At some point during the night a gentle sense of motion had alerted me that we were underway. The soothing movement of the ship likely contributed to my sound night of sleep.

I awoke with warm fur in my face. Kitsune liked to sleep curled up with her nose covered by her luxuriant tail - and she often extended the courtesy to me. Easing the vixen aside, I noticed no hint of daylight yet penetrated our cabin’s single small porthole.

Careful not to awaken Quill-Weave below me, I managed to quietly dismount from the rope and canvas hammock and get my feet onto the deck. After summoning a towel and wrapping it around myself, I padded across the passageway to the washroom to pass water, wash up and clean my teeth. Once back in my cabin and aided by a nighteye spell, I pulled on my buckskins and arranged my hair into a ponytail. I then left the sleeping Argonian.

Once outside the cabin, I knelt down and whispered to Kitsune, “Your sense of smell is much better than mine. Will you lead us to the galley?� She did so. Though early, I talked the cook into some cold roasted mutton and hot tea.

Finally, I emerged topside into the damp predawn air. Dark shadows, which more light would soon enough render as trees, slowly slipped past both sides of the ship. I leaned against the starboard rail and waited for daylight to become more than a vague promise.

I smiled as a pale green butterfly appeared and fluttered around my head. “Good morning, Dawn,� I said. The diminutive creature had frequently appeared during most of my life, but only around sunrise. Though she was a mystery to me, I had come to welcome her brief visits.

By the time I finished an orange that I had grabbed from a barrel in the galley, I could make out the Green Road whenever it came close enough for the Niben’s gentle waves to lap at its cobblestones. Reeds along the river’s edge and weeping branches of willow trees confirmed we were in County Leyawiin.

Soon, there was enough light that I could make out the sharp broken rocks of a closed Oblivion Gate as we slowly sailed past. The corpses of several Daedra on the charred ground nearby silently testified that the gate had not long been closed.

Ahead of us, and on the other side of the river, towering gray walls announced our proximity to Fort Redman.

My tiny winged visitor suddenly disappeared. A moment later, the sound of distant thunder reached my long ears.

“Could be a storm ahead, lads. Standby to rig for foul weather.� My head turned to see the ship’s first mate issuing orders. The Redguard turned to me and lowered his voice, “Good morning, fair Bosmer. You may want to retreat below deck. Wouldn’t want such a lovely flower of the forest blown overboard.�

“Good morning, Torlin,� I said absently, for my attention was focused on the sky ahead. When a bolt of red lightning slashed across the rapidly forming black clouds, my heart sank. “I know that sky. It brings neither wind nor rain; rather, it proclaims an open Oblivion Gate.�

Torlin’s eyes widened briefly before he decisively turned to address the deck crew. “We’ve got an Oblivion Gate ahead. Steady as she goes and we’ll safely sail right on by.� Turning back to me, he said, “I need to notify the captain. Once again, I thank you, my lady.� The Redguard spun on his heels and quickly made his way aft toward the pilot house.

I retrieved both bow and quiver from the enchanted satchel at my waist and settled them onto my back.

Within minutes, the flaming maw came into view. The scorched meadow it claimed was just south of Fisherman’s Rock along the Niben’s east bank. As we sailed closer, I could make out a large green banner, emblazoned with the rearing pale horse that marked it as belonging to Leyawiin’s Order of the White Stallion. Several knights stood guard as some number of their comrades were undoubtedly inside attempting to wrest the sigil stone from its tower.

Acadian quietly remarked, “I see their mission has changed from slaying black bow bandits to closing the jaws of Oblivion.� I nodded, thankful for the comfort that the old paladin’s spirit within me provided.

As we sailed past the gate, my eyes turned again toward the west bank to see Water’s Edge come into view. Half a dozen sheep stood nervously together in shallow water bleating their disapproval of the incessant angry streaks of lightning tearing at the thunderously protesting sky. Several residents were already outside and, between fearful skyward glances, dutifully tending the small community’s rice plants. The wetlands crop, along with fishing, provided the bulk of their diet and livelihood.

I watched Water’s Edge slowly disappear behind us, then shifted my gaze forward over the starboard bow as the Peony Princess continued south. I was surprised when a stone building of imposing size grew from the trees along the Green Road. As the ship drew abeam, I could make out a familiar banner. A wide smile grew across my face. “So, it’s true,� I whispered to Acadian. “The humble lodge used by Mazoga and I after we were dubbed has been replaced by a magnificent hall that, by the look of it, could host more than a score of knights.� The low stone wall surrounding the compound also enclosed a stable, sparring area, forge, vegetable garden, henhouse and well. I saw no sign of activity outside the lodge, though two of its several chimneys issued wispy clues of life inside.

The impressive facility soon slipped behind us. A pair of sailors across the deck along the port rail were discussing another closed Oblivion Gate now visible just east of the river. The more of these gates I saw, the more my fear of them was joined by other emotions. Heartache and worry for the brave souls who struggled to close them. Fury toward the Daedra Lord of Destruction for unleashing his rapacious flaming teeth into the beautiful forests that I loved.

A loud crack of thunder dispelled my ruminations. It should have been getting quieter since that open gate was now well behind us. I looked out over the bow as Leyawiin’s distant gray walls began to come into view. On the eastern shore of the Niben, near the Yellow Road ferry landing stood another towering set of stone teeth! Flames belched forth, angrily licking the sides of the portal as a number of soldiers, augmented by portable barricades, had established a defensive perimeter to contain and channelize Daedra. The river itself did provide somewhat of an additional barrier behind the soldiers. Daedra could swim but, while doing so, they were slow and helpless targets for any archers atop the city’s walls and towers. The dock area seemed safe enough for the moment.

By now, Torlin was back on deck and tersely issuing orders to the crew. The ship began to turn toward the city’s wharf area.

After, well. . . forever it seemed, the ship kissed her pier and lines were cast to and from the deck to secure us. As longshoremen maneuvered two ramps toward our cargo bay access and weather deck, I heard Torlin admonishing a Nordic sailor that I understood to be the ship’s loadmaster, “All hands are at your disposal to quickly get Leyawiin cargo off and on. The Captain wants the Princess back underway and away from this flaming swamp in less than an hour!�

Fillimir, the ship’s steward, along with two passengers carrying their travel bags appeared on deck looking bewildered and more than a little frightened by the angry sky and nearby flaming portal to the Deadlands. With but a glance from me, Kitsune disappeared. As soon as the pier and weather deck were mated, I pressed the waterwalking amulet that had been issued to me upon embarkation into the steward’s hand and ran down the gangplank. Rather than hoping the nearby ferry was ready to go, I cast my own waterwalking spell and ran directly across the river toward the Oblivion Gate to offer my help.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Feb 29 2020, 08:39 PM