SubRosa- Thanks! You bring up the interesting prospect of Loviatar visiting Skyrim. . . I’m sure she’d get on well with Persephone and the Darryl brothers.
hazmick- Heh, it was Pantea’s ‘seal of approval’ that gave Buffy just that extra bit of confidence she needed. Thank you!
mirocu- Long may Lothran roam in Cyrodiil, my friend. Please forgive me when my Skythusiasm gets too pushy.
Aww, thanks for your kind words to the new songbird.
ghastley- Thanks! Buffy and Mjoll do work well together. Of course it requires a mod addressing her motormouth and another to tweak her stealth. I did like the vid, but you’re right in that it was pretty busy and had lots of sound effects.
mALX- Thank you! Most of the supporting vids I had to choose from did not spare the gore. Thankfully, they showed quite a bit of Skyrim’s beauty as well.
Renee- Thanks! Buffy sometimes plays a song or two when she stays at some of the taverns.
Lopov- Buffy’s always been in awe of women who can do what she can never aspire to. In Cyrodiil, it was Sir Mazoga. In Skyrim it is Mjoll the Lioness who epitomize this. I’m sure if she ever met the Warrior Princess Xena, she’d feel the same about her. Thank you!
DE- Thanks for your warm support. Yes, I don’t think Buffy could have sang for either the red or blue coats without first taking the time to understand the passion they feel for their respective causes.
Grits- Beauty of Dawn had me right at the title since Buffy is literally a Child of Dawn. Buffy is inspired by Mjoll in much the same way she was by Mazoga. I confess the woman in that song also reminded me of your own Jensa, whose stories I quietly follow over on the other forum. Thank you!
*
Our next story finds Buffy in the Riften area of Fourth Era Skyrim. She takes on a relatively straightforward fictitious quest involving a dungeon crawl. The tale will require two episodes.
* * *
The Case of the Missing Court Mage – Part 1
“I was sent by the College of Winterhold in response to a message regarding Wylandriah. How’d you manage to lose your court mage?”
“Thank you for coming,” replied the Altmer who towered over me. “We’ve never been introduced, but I’ve seen you here in Mistveil Keep on several occasions conducting business with Wylandriah. I’m Anuriel, steward to Jarl Laila.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Buffy.” I accepted her offered hand in greeting. “Your message said the matter was urgent, but provided few details. I know Wylandriah can be. . . absent minded. Did she perhaps just wander off somewhere or get lost searching the nearby forest for spiders or ingredients?”
“That’s what we thought at first also,” Anuriel replied as she handed me a small scroll that was smudged with dirt, “until we got this.”
I unrolled then read the parchment. “Kidnapped! And the brigands want a large sum of gold for her return.”
Anuriel nodded. “Wylandriah’s abductors overestimate the depth of Riften’s coffers. More importantly, however, the Jarl is loath to meet their demands for concern that should we pay a ransom it would only encourage more kidnappings. Rather, she wants the fetchers’ heads on pikes outside our gates as warning to others. While our own guard force is doubtless capable of defeating them, recovering Wylandriah alive would likely prove problematic. Even more vexing is that we have no idea where she’s being held.” The Altmer looked hopefully at me.
“I have some experience in such matters,” I said. “I believe I can help.”
“The resources of Riften are at your disposal. How many soldiers and what supplies do you require?”
“For now,” I replied, “all I need is an item of Wylandriah’s to help me divine her location. Something she has recently held or worn and, ideally, of some significance to her.”
“Hmm.” Anuriel laid a pensive finger aside her cheek as her eyes studied the intricately carved ceiling art. After a moment, her gaze swept down to meet mine and she announced, “I think I know just the thing. Follow me.”
After leading me into Wylandriah’s quarters, Anuriel produced a gold and ruby amulet from the mage’s jewelry box. “I believe this was her mother’s. She often wears it to dinner here in the Keep.”
I closed my fingers around the pendant and my fist glowed briefly. “This should work fine. I’ve set Wylandriah’s essence to my clairvoyance spell.”
“Well cast it and tell me where she is,” instructed the steward anxiously.
“It doesn’t work that way.” I stepped back out into the great hall with Anuriel in tow, then filled one fist with magic. As I opened my fingers a pale blue cloud lazily swirled out from my palm, snaking a path to the main doors. I stopped the flow of magic, allowing the trail to fade. “That’s how it works. All it can tell us in here is that Wylandriah's not in Mistveil Keep, which I’m sure is no surprise. I may need to use the spell in town a couple times to determine if she’s beyond the city’s walls. Hopefully, the next time you see me, Wylandriah will be at my side.” Before I turned to leave, I added, “I’ll then be able to inform your guards where they may harvest her captors’ heads.”
*
My clairvoyance spell had led me to the kidnappers’ lair, less than half a day south of Riften. According to my doeskin map, it was called Broken Helm Hollow.
Perched on a boulder and relying on plenty of distance and overhanging branches to avoid detection, my eyes followed a mountain trail as it led up to a ledge. An arch-shaped opening among the rocks had been framed and closed off by a sturdy-looking door. A waterfall fell very close to the entrance as it sparkled, sprayed and plummeted from several hundred feet above to awaiting boulders an equal distance below. The area was guarded by a pair of brigands.
Releasing a fistful of magic, Slayer quickly materialized in my left hand. The bow’s quiver settled comfortably against my back. With an arrow nocked, my fingers addressed the silk bowstring. The large weapon provided the strength I lacked to manage its heavy draw as the staff relaxed its graceful recurve, bending until the arrow’s fletching rested against my cheek. With Slayer doing most of the work, I held full draw and focused on the target area until it snapped into greatly magnified view.
I could see now that one guard was clad in fur and armed with bow and dagger. His comrade wore tattered leathers and a mace rode at one hip. Patience, Buffy.
Sure enough, ‘mace’ stepped over to the nearby waterfall to fill a waterskin.
I loosed. A moment later, his archer companion was slammed into the wall of rock surrounding the cave’s door and crumpled to the ground.
‘Mace’ ran over and knelt by the body as I nocked my second arrow. After a cursory inspection, he stood, drew his weapon and began scanning my general direction for a sniper.
My arrow tore through his leather breast plate, pierced his heart and carried his corpse several feet back into the rocks behind him.
I slipped down from my perch, made my way to the cave’s entrance and searched the corpses. My efforts to ensure neither had been lost over the nearby ledge into the waterfall were in vain, for I found no clues that would help my quest to safely recover Wylandriah.
I quenched my thirst from the waterfall then crouched into stealth. Both feet gently blossomed with blue magic, surrounding me with a continuous subtle aura that would greatly subdue any light and noise I emitted – but only from those hostile to me.
I slipped through the cave’s door into the den of the kidnappers.