Buffy the Bowgirl, Book 1, Thread 1, Do You Know the Way to Kvatch? Options

[Winter Wolf]

As an outside observer I must say that this chapter really does read well. I really like the way it slowly builds to the return confrontation with the highwayman. Delicious, in fact! No wonder Buffy is losing her trust and openness with the world around her. Kind of makes Bravil look homely and sweet, no?

Kudos to you for going into the background detail on the silk bowstrings. Calluses, oh no!

This post has been edited by Winter Wolf: Jul 17 2010, 05:34 AM

[Acadian]

In Chapter 9, a friendly Legion rider helped Buffy map a route from Chorrol to Skingrad, but progress was slowed when she and Superian were accosted by a highwayman. The encounter left her pondering her own quick readiness to vengeance and the responsibilities of owning a horse.

SubRosa- Buffy is wrestling with a dark side of herself that will take some time to develop and resolve. Thank you for appreciating some of the smaller details of how she interacts with her weapon and her world. She is determined to love and travel with that horse, so I am hoping to balance game mechanics with somewhat reasonable explanations and solutions to help her along. She has much to learn and put together, but eventually, she and Superian will travel as an effective team.

Rider- I'm so glad you understood Buffy's rage. I would expect nothing less from our own veterinary vixen. It will be awhile before she and Superian learn how not to bump into danger along the roads. The very next episode in fact, starts with another such bump. Thank you so much for the kind words regarding the emerging of her character. The fact that Julian clicks well with Kud-Ei, speaks very highly of both ladies.

Olen- Buffy will get darker yet, I fear, before she eventually comes to terms with the proper role of her quick tendency to vengeance. Thank you for your kind observations on Buffy's world. Seeing things through her eyes opens my own.

Wolf- Speaking as an outsider?!? This, from Buffy's Aussie Godfather? No no no, my friend. You know her extremely well. I'm so glad that you enjoyed the pacing or build up of the chapter. Yes, her recent travels do indeed make Bravil seem comfy. Thank you for commenting on some of the details of Buffy's world. It was Foxy that, long ago, helped me work out the details of silk for bowstrings and how/where archers develop calluses.

* * *

10.1 You Don't Look Like a Mage

After the mountain road carved its way sharply around some massive rocks, we were met by the hissing screeches of three goblins that appeared to be guarding the entrance to a mine. One sent a hand towards his quiver while the other two menacingly reached for short swords.

Superian's assessment was quicker than mine. With a flashing of hooves, she showed the goblins her tail and we were off the way we came as fast a Black Horse Courier. A single arrow flew past, well wide of us as we raced to safety. After a minute, we drew to a stop. I turned in the saddle looking and listening for any sounds of pursuit. There were none.

The mine was right along our path on the Gold Road, approaching Skingrad. I slipped to the ground and made my way back towards the green sentries.

It took some scouting around, but I was able to find a spot on a large rock that provided a clear view of my targets from fairly long range. It had not been difficult to reach my perch without being seen. Goblins, unlike imps, weren't very good at detecting sneaky elves.

I had learned a few tricks about killing groups of foes. Offsetting the aim point just slightly to one side caused my arrow's impact to often spin the target around, so any allies couldn't really tell which direction I had attacked from. By hitting the farthest target, other nearby enemies would often search in the wrong direction. Lots of range, of course, helped reduce the sound of my bowstring and made it harder to see me. Sometimes I could remain hidden between shots, sometimes not. That's why being ready to disappear was also a good idea.

I coated three iron tipped broad head arrows with poison, laying two carefully at my feet and setting one to the nock.

Bow partially drawn, I studied the green targets beyond the tip of my arrow. Their pointed ears swept gracefully rearward, and were even larger than mine or Superian's. The farthest goblin produced a brown glass bottle from between two rocks, opened it against the crossguard of a sheathed blade and took a long pull. A second comrade extended both arms wide in a lazy stretch. Each hand ended with three fingers and a thumb, all capped with large black claws. Raising a yawning muzzle skyward displayed dagger-like teeth. The final member of the trio revealed himself to indeed be a he-goblin by lifting his crude loincloth and casting a yellow stream upon on the trunk of a tree.

If there was any doubt as to the danger posed by this motley crew, it was put to rest by the remains that marked the area. There was a variety of bones that appeared to be from men, mer and horse. A nearly complete skeleton of some hapless traveler wore the tattered shreds of a burgundy shirt.

The moment I loosed my arrow, I snuck two steps back down my rocky perch, breaking line of sight with the targets. I was rewarded by the sounds of a sharp screech and breaking glass. After a brief pause, I crept back up the rock to survey the results. One goblin was dead. The other two quickly gave up searching and returned to their posts.

Another poisoned arrow knocked the archer to the ground. The remaining guard's short sword sang from his scabbard as his beady eyes darted among the rocks, trees and brush that hid me. If he saw my third arrow coming, he did not have time to react before he joined his comrades in death.

I checked the area around the mine. Each of the goblins bore a black symbol, vaguely resembling a skull, emblazoned on their upper right arm- perhaps some sort of tribal identification? Grim totems, fashioned from spikes with skulls impaled upon them, flanked the entrance. Crude letters, that had been carved and burned into the rickety wooden door spelled out the words, 'Derelict Mine'.

The goblins carried roasted rat meat and beer as rations, but nothing of value except the archer's quiver of arrows. I cut my own three bloody arrows free from their corpses, but upon inspection, only one remained useable. Goblin blood was red like mine. I wasn't sure why that surprised me.

I quickly repaired their poor quality equipment and left it. Tucked among the boulders along the sides of the road grew several nightshade and peony plants which I harvested for later poison making.

Backtracking until I could see Superian patiently waiting, I cast a spell for her to join me. Fluttering nostrils and a soft snort indicated her displeasure at the smells of blood and death upon me, but she was beginning to get used to it. We then continued west along the Gold Road.

Although not as massive or intimidating as the Imperial City, Skingrad was certainly impressive, as its slender towers and sharp spires came into view. Red and black banners depicting Masser and Secunda in quarter phase flanked the East Gate. A solitary figure clad in red-trimmed mail, topped by the helmet of a city guard, stood sentry.

The Imperial, bearing the city's dual moon symbol on his cuirass and shield, was not much older than I. "You'll find the guilds are inside the north walls to the west." He then looked at Superian. "The stables are just outside the West Gate on the other side of the city." Grinning at the confused look on my face, he added, "You can get your horse there by using the narrow path between the castle and the city walls."

"Thank you," I smiled. I didn't really understand, but I turned Superian towards the direction he indicated. She and I slowly rode west outside of the city's southern wall. I could see the castle looming large above us on our left.

As we got closer, I shuddered involuntarily as a strange sensation came over me. I could feel some sort of distant presence. It got stronger, and I reined in Superian as we reached our closest point to the castle. Unlike the comforting feeling Acadian gave me, whatever this was seemed brooding and dark.

I placed one hand on Superian's neck. She was calm and did not sense what I did. "Acadian, can you feel a dark spirit? Perhaps from the castle?"

The paladin felt only the fact that I was uncomfortable. Like Superian, he did not detect the ominous presence that I did.

As we slowly continued and opened our distance from the castle, the feeling faded until it was gone. Whatever secret Castle Skingrad held would remain a mystery for now, as we picked our way west along the path.

Finally we found the Grateful Pass Stables. I gave Tilmo, the stable hand, a few septims, along with instructions for Superian's care. "If she gives me a good report, there will be some more gold for you when we leave." The cheerful Altmer returned my smile as I handed him the reins.

I entered Skingrad through the West Gate. The inside of the city was a confusing maze of tall buildings that cast shadows across narrow cobblestone streets. I had to ask directions again before I finally found the Mages Guild.

"I trust you have good reason for interrupting me?" Adrienne Berene lowered her book, raised an eyebrow and looked up from her chair in the library.

"I-I'm working hard to enter the Arcane University." I added hopefully, "I already have five recommendations from our other guilds, can you help me?"

The Breton lifted an arm draped in blue velvet, and touched a manicured finger to her chin as she thought for a moment. "Well, Associate, there is a matter I haven't had time to deal with myself. Perhaps you can help. One of my mages is missing. I'll tell you what; find Erthor for me and we'll see about that recommendation."

Well, that sounded familiar. Perhaps another invisibility prank like the mages in Bruma pulled on their guild head. "Do you know where I might start looking for him?"

Adrienne frowned. "Associate, if I knew where he was, I wouldn't need your help now, would I? Try talking to the other mages. I'm busy, now run along." She then quietly snapped her book closed and rose to her feet. The blue gown swirled elegantly as she turned to leave. Her braided golden hair was flawlessly styled back into a bun.

Welcome to Skingrad, Buffy.

Feeling a little inadequate, I started wandering around the guild hall. Some my best friends were Argonian women - City Swimmer and Kud-Ei came to mind. One of the nicest mages I had met outside my own guild house was Deetsan. I loved the curiously flat, precisely enunciated manner of their speech. I also found them to be very friendly. So, when I saw an Argonian woman wearing blue robes, my spirits lifted and I approached her to ask about Erthor.

"What? Who are you? Oh, who cares. I'm Druja. You want something, or are you just practicing your Cyrodiilic?"

I was getting used to cranky guild heads like Adrienne by now, but I was taken aback to encounter a grumpy Argonian. Don’t stammer again, Buffy. "Can you help me find Erthor? I'm trying to earn a recommendation from Adrienne to enter the University."

Druja looked at me for a moment. I could see her staring at the longbow and fletched shafts protruding above my shoulders. Her orange eyes then roamed down the blue raiment to my bare legs and gladiator sandals. Finally, her reptilian features softened. "I'm sorry Associate. I didn't realize you were in the guild. You don't look very much like a mage. I would be happy to try and help you." She continued to explain that Adrienne had sent Erthor to Bleak Flats Cave to do his research after some sort of spell mishap. Erthor spent much of his time there, but had been checking in with the guild periodically. "Come to think of it, I have not seen Erthor for weeks now. Here, let me mark that cave on your map for you. You should remind Adrienne that she is the one who sent him there."

"I'll do that. Thank you Druja." I don't look very much like a mage?

Adrienne pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling in thought. "Oh yes! I do remember now sending Erthor to that cave. Oh well then, you'll just have to go there and fetch him back for us, won't you? Here, let me teach you this weak fireball spell. It just might come in handy. Now, off with you."

The Skingrad facility was quite elegant compared to my comfortable, but somewhat humble guild hall in Bravil. I found a nice room upstairs and unpacked some of my things. It was early afternoon by the time I spread my map on the red and gold brocade bedspread and looked at Bleak Flats Cave. Tomorrow, Buffy. I was tired from traveling and relished a touch of civilization.

I set up my alchemy equipment on the small desktop. The next couple hours resulted in a large collection of potions and poisons from all the wonderful ingredients I had gathered during the long trip from Chorrol. I frowned at my hands. The stains of goblin blood were now joined by a rainbow of colors from grinding up ingredients. My nose informed me that I was also a little ripe from several days on the road.

With a little more exploring, I found the guild's copper bathtub. After working the hand pump for a few minutes, I practiced my new fireball spell several times to heat the water. A hot bath later, I donned a simple blue and green dress - with matching shoes of course. I combed out my hair, then gathered it back into a ponytail with my leather keep. It was nice to feel like a clean elf.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jan 14 2011, 01:17 AM

[Olen]

To Skingrad... you caught how unwelcoming the guildhall is first time you go there well. And I can't wait to see how Buffy deals with Bleak Flats cave, that poison won't work there and I'm not sure one arrow will do it.

Goblin blood was red like mine. I wasn't sure why that surprised me.

That's a very good line, it brings out the human (elven?) side to her and catches the mood at that point.

Ending with a bath (creative use of a flare there Buffy) is also a good touch.

[SubRosa]

Ahh, goblins camped out on the road. The way from Skingrad east is always a gladiator school, with all the caves and mines right next to the road. Here you show more thoughtful archery tactics in Buffy's planning and staging of arrows.

Like Olen, I found Buffy's observation about goblin blood being as red as hers to be a good touch. It shows a bit of unexpected empathy on Buffy's part.

Superian is also coming much more alive in the BF 2.0. The extra effort you are making to describe her reactions are paying off with her feeling like a character, rather than a conveyance.

Good extra bit of Buffy sensing something evil as she went by the castle. She is her father's daughter after all.

Welcome to Skingrad. Yep, that is one friendly guildhall alright. You capture the aloofness and haughy attitude of Adrienne Berene quite well.

The Breton lifted an arm draped in blue velvet, and touched a manicured finger to her chin as she thought for a moment.
This sentence really stands out to me, as it does a marvelous job of showing us so much about Adrienne. You reveal how she is dressed, what her race is, the manicured nail implies that she does not work with her hands, and takes pains with her appearance, and finally it adds a bit of action, showing us that she has to think about her response. Plus, it avoids having to use a speech tag.

Oh noes, Buffy is not planning on sleeping in the Skingrad guild hall is she! Quick Buffy run, before you find Vigge crawling into bed with you!


nits:
Stealthily getting to my perch had not been hard.
This feels a little awkward. Perhaps rearrange it a bit:
Reaching my perch in stealth had not been difficult. or It had not been difficult to reach my perch without being seen.


The Imperial, bearing the same dual moon symbol on his cuirass and shield was not much older than I.
This came kind of suddenly. Was there supposed to be a sentence at the end of the previous paragraph saying that Buffy saw a guard at the gate?

[D.Foxy]

I'm sure whichever male tries to crawl uninvited into Buffy's bed will find he's missing his third leg shortly afterwards.

[haute ecole rider]

Ahh, I see Buffy made it past the monsters of Greenmead and Greyrock! Now the Goblins, that's a different story.

I believe I know the particular rock Buffy made use of - it is my favorite perch to snipe the gobbies at that particular place. Especially at higher levels, when the Goblins are such a bear to kill.

Am I the only one to notice that they tend to come out after sunset and disappear after dawn? I've seen three of them walking up to the mine from the east, coming around the north side of the mine. It has the same feel as the Goblin raids between the two caves over in the Eastern Niben, where you have to clear them so the Breton settlers can start building their homesteads.

[Winter Wolf]

I had learned a few tricks about killing groups of foes. Offsetting the aim point just slightly to one side caused my arrow's impact to often spin the target around, so any allies couldn't really tell which direction I had attacked from. By hitting the farthest target, other nearby enemies would often search in the wrong direction.

This sentence sent a shiver up the spine. That Buffy is one dangerous girl. No wonder she doesn't have a male suitor. Cheating on her would result in one painful death...

The character that stood out for me here was Druja. The way she gave Buffy the once over and arrived at her gladiator sandals was absolutely brilliant. "You don't look very much like a mage." I love it!

You forgot to mention the other give away. The pile of bodies.

[Remko]

I agree with the above, Superian feeles even morte like a character than in your first version.

Welcome to Skingrad indeed. Undead Count, grumpy mages and a freakshow Alchemist

[Zalphon]

Buffy, you're really good at entertaining us, lol.

[Destri Melarg]

9 Ride Fast and Shoot Straight

Like Winter Wolf I love the mundane detail that you infuse into every chapter. The whole paragraph where Buffy ruminates on the merits of silk bowstrings and the calluses that they cause was just great.

And I agree with SubRosa that we see the early stirrings of the ‘Buffy Doctrine’ being formed in her willingness to exact painful revenge for anyone stupid enough to direct a blow at her beloved Superian.

A bow-equipped mouse toying with a cat.

The image that this conjures up is just too good not to quote.

10.1 You Don’t Look Like a Mage

Buffy’s ability to sense a ‘brooding presence’ that her companions (it seems strange to regard a horse and a disembodied spirit as ‘companions’, but that’s what they are) cannot is a clever bit of foreshadowing that I am sure will be addressed in a future chapter. Again our lady SubRosa took the words right out of my mouth when she said that Buffy is ‘her father’s daughter’.

[DarkZerker]

Buffy is probably the most well written character in ANY oblivion fan fiction! I get the whole "You don't look like a mage" thing from my friends whenever I'm playing Oblivion with them over.

[Acadian]

In Chapter 10.1, Buffy and Superian battled goblins before finally arriving at Skingrad. Her sixth University recommendation requires her to find another missing mage. It seems this one may be conducting research at nearby Bleak Flats Cave. After her long trip from Chorrol however, Buffy insisted on at least an evening of civilization before any dungeon diving.

Olen- Thank you. Yes, it seems many of the guild heads have. . . personalities. Ah, I see you are familiar with the hazards in Bleak Flats Cave. Heh, Buffy will never be able to match the other mages when it comes fire, ice and lightning. She can be pretty clever at using it for lighting/dousing torches, cooking crabs and heating baths though.

SubRosa- I'm glad that some of Buffy's passion for and dedication to her bow came through. Goblin blood is red - yes, unexpected empathy with her 'targets'. I really want to enhance the character and role of Superian in BF 2.0 - Thank you so much for seconding that.

Foxy- Thanks! Yes, the problem of unwelcome wandering mages at night. Buffy has worked out a solution. Set your beverage down and click on this: Back off guild mate, or I'll turn you into a chicken!

Rider- Thank you. Buffy has actually been caught in the cross fire between those Derelict Mine goblins and the rival gang from Goblin Jim's tribe. I understand that aspect of the game was not really fully implemented, but those two tribes actually do seem to pick on each other. Oh, I love the Cropsford quest, too!

Wolf- Yes, Buffy does live and love her craft. Thank you for mentioning that her 'target analysis' rang somewhat chilling for you. 'You don't look like a mage' will weave through all three parts of this chapter bearing the title.

Remko- Thank you. I'm really glad that it seems I'm doing better with Superian in BF 2.0. My hope is to expand her role and character even further. Buffy really is a 'gang of three' (Her, Superian and Acadian) - at least she is never lonely.

Zalphon- Thanks! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading.

Destri- Thank you for your endorsement of some of the detail we try to put into the chapters. Yup, she is a great 'ruminator'. Yes, the beginnings of her doctrine - she definitely needs to develop some control of her growing lethality. Her unease as she passed the castle is also new. I am hoping to expand on what was only really hinted at in her first version.

Zerker- I am simply humbled to be on the same stage as each of the writers that read Buffy. Thank you for the kind words.

* * *

10.2 You Don't Look Like a Mage

"No, I'm sorry, Associate, we don't have an alchemist at the guild." Blinking her orange eyes, Druja continued, "If you want to trade alchemical supplies, Falanu Hlaalu at All Things Alchemical has a good selection of equipment and unusual ingredients. Sinderion over at the nearby tavern however, is perhaps the most knowledgeable alchemist in Cyrodiil and has better prices."

"Thank you, Druja," I smiled. Grabbing my pack, I stepped out of the guild and went shopping across the narrow street. After trading some wolf pelts for arrows, I made my way along the cobblestones towards the West Gate.

The tavern was quite to my liking. Not too big or fancy, but with a crackling warm fire and cozy atmosphere. I smoothed the skirt of my blue and green dress and approached the pleasant looking Imperial in green silk. She returned my smile and said cheerfully, "Good afternoon, Bosmer. Welcome to the West Weald Inn. I'm Erina Jeranus, the proprietor. If you'd like food or a bed, speak to me."

"Nothing right now, thank you. You have a lovely inn though," I said. "I'm looking for an alchemist named Sinderion?"

"Oh yes," Erina seemed to appreciate the compliment and pointed behind me, "he's downstairs, right through that door."

Behind the door and down the stairs I found a cellar. The rack-lined walls were filled with more wines than I had seen in my short life. At the far end of the cellar, mixing the contents of two flasks, stood a white-haired Altmer. "Excuse me, are you Sinderion?"

He lowered his potions to the table before him that was littered with books, scrolls and alchemical ingredients. After staring at me absently for a moment, the chiseled features of his unlined golden face brightened into a warm smile. "Why yes. Yes I am. What brings such a lovely elf to my potion shop today?" He cocked his head as one hand raised to rub a square chin. "Hmm, you look like a mage."

Now I look like a mage? I figured it was the dress, and perhaps leaving my bow at the guild. Well, his flattery worked, because I instantly liked Sinderion. He was both attractive and charming. "Yes, I'm an Associate from Bravil. My name's Buffy." I wandered closer. "Are you in the guild?"

"Me?" He sounded surprised. "Oh by Julianos, no, no, no. Sometimes I guest lecture on exotic plants at the University, but I'm loathe to leave Skingrad for any length of time." His head almost touched the low beams spanning the ceiling as Sinderion moved to join me. Based on the furnishings and equipment, it seemed the cellar served as his home, store and laboratory. "In addition to being an alchemist, I like to fancy myself quite the student of local history," his hand swept the room, "and wines. So tell me, Buffy, what can I do for you today?"

I lowered my pack to the floor with a soft thump and looked up at the Altmer. "I have lots of potions I was hoping to sell."

Sinderion rubbed his hands together. "Ah, you've come to the right place. I'd love to see what you have in there."

I knelt on the floor and started rummaging. "Um, my pack is kind of a mess right now. Would you mind if I just dumped it out? That might make it easier and faster to find everything." In response to Sinderion's nod, I upended the pack.

"Yes indeed," said Sinderion as he chuckled and knelt beside me to help sort through the myriad potions and ingredients. Suddenly, he sucked his breath in loudly. "Buffy! Where did you find those?"

"Oh, these?" I held up the three blue-green bulbous roots. "I found them along the west bank of the Lower Niben. Nobody seems to know anything about them. Why? Are they useful for something?"

He took one of the roots and, after studying it for a moment, stared at me incredulously. "These are nirnroot! For years I've sought in vain to obtain samples of them. Although extremely difficult to work with, in the right hands some amazing properties can be coaxed from them. Would you consider selling them?"

"No alchemist I've talked to has been willing to offer me anything for them. If you would find them useful, they're yours." I placed the roots in his hand. "I would like to sell you my potions though."

"I-I don't know what to say, Buffy," Sinderion stammered, then grinned. "I will gladly buy your potions and offer you a fine price for any more nirnroot you find."

We then exchanged my pile of potions for a nice bag of gold. As we stood, Sinderion's hand came back up to his chin thoughtfully. "Those nirnroot samples will support my research for months to come, and I am deeply in your debt. Will you tell me of your travels? Perhaps I can think of a way to assist you, and repay your kindness."

I told him of my quest to gain admission to the Arcane University, and what that had entailed to date. We talked in some depth about the challenges I faced traveling with Superian. Sinderion's eyebrows alternately traveled up and down his forehead and his pursed lips twitched from side to side as I spoke.

Finally, his beautifully clear blue eyes brightened. "Ahah! You say this horse of yours is fast, and that you have a special connection with her?" He didn't wait for my nod before continuing, "As I told you, I'm quite the local historian. You need to speak to Rislav the Righteous."

"Does he live nearby?" I asked hopefully.

Sinderion smiled mysteriously. "Well he used to. In the First Era, year four seventy eight to be more precise."

"You're teasing me," I pouted.

"No, not at all. At that time, Rislav was King of Skingrad. He managed to hold off the vastly larger Alessian Army of Emperor Gorieus during the Battle of Grateful Pass," in response to my deepening frown, he slowly emphasized each word as he added, "with the help of his white stallion, Corsair." His eyes sparkled, as mine flew open wide in rapt attention.

"Ah, I see I have piqued your interest, Buffy. Sit." I dutifully did so, in the chair Sinderion indicated, as he browsed among his wine racks and continued, "Yes, it was dawn as the lead elements of the Alessian horde moved west from the Imperial City. On the ridgeline ahead of them, stood the solitary figure of King Rislav the Righteous."

"Alone? Against an army?" I couldn't help my interest.

"Almost," Sinderion nodded, "except for a trained hawk perched upon his shoulder. The King unfurled the red and black banner of Skingrad into the rising sun, and defiantly planted its staff at his feet. Suddenly, his white horse materialized right next to the banner. Rislav released the hawk, mounted Corsair and reared the mighty stallion." By now, Sinderion had opened his chosen bottle, filled two silver goblets and joined me at the small table.

Taking a sip of wine, I prompted, "Do go on."

"The commander of Gorieus' Army was so incensed, that he ordered an immediate charge. Rislav wheeled his horse and sped towards Skingrad. It seems the hawk was a signal to Rislav's waiting forces. As the Alessian horde funneled into the narrow gap at Grateful Pass, thousands of arrows, launched from atop the flanking bluffs decimated their ranks. Skingrad remained free, at least for that day."

"What a wonderful bit of history, Sinderion!" I said, moved by the story. "How did King Rislav summon his horse?"

"You'll need to ask him," the Altmer chuckled. "There's a statue of His Majesty near the Mages Guild. Ask him at dawn, for that is when the battle started."

Mystified, I replied, "Thank you, I'll do that." I stood, placing my silver goblet on the table. "Oh, this wine is yummy. What kind is it?"

The Altmer rose and escorted me towards the door. "It is good, isn't it? The wine is made right here in Skingrad by our very own Tamika." Taking my hand, he briefly touched it to his lips. "Safe travels, Buffy." He then opened the door for me.

"Thank you, Sinderion." I turned for the open door to hide the warm color I could feel blossoming in my face and ears.

Back at the guild that night, I slept fitfully as I dreamed of ancient armies and thundering hooves.

In the dim light of predawn, I stood before the towering gray statue of Rislav the Righteous. The king was astride a powerful looking horse and had a hawk perched on his arm. I reached up and placed my hand on the neck of Corsair. "Your Majesty, can you help a young she-elf and her precious mare better survive the hazards of Cyrodiil?"

The statue began to glow with a soft white light that gradually expanded to engulf me. For a moment, it was sunrise two eras ago, and a solitary red and black banner stood upon a lonely ridgeline. I watched King Rislav call forth his white stallion. Then I was back, standing in the small round garden with my hand still upon the statue. I now understood the Call of Corsair. "Thank you, your Majesty."

I savored the smells of leather and fresh hay, the comforting scent of the horses, and even the other natural odors of the stables. The vineyards still slumbered, under long early morning shadows cast by the west walls of Skingrad. I led Superian out among the grape trellises. Stopping, I hugged her, unsheathed my knife and severed a lock of her mane. "Stay here, and wish us luck."

After walking the short distance back to the stables alone, I knelt on the ground and opened my map before me. Grasping the lock of my mare's mane tightly, I stared at the mark on the map for the Grateful Pass Stables. "Superian, I need you."

I felt the air stir, and suddenly the mare was standing beside me, wide-eyed and disoriented. She reared. I jumped to my feet to comfort her. As soon as she saw me, she began to calm down, and within a few minutes, I had her eating a carrot. "No one said being a mage's horse was going to be easy, girl." I buried my face in her long mane and whispered, "Thank you for trusting me."

The possibilities began to dawn on me. I could leave Superian in a safe place and scout ahead on foot for us. Once I reached any landmark on my map, I could call her instantly and safely to my side.

"Acadian, are you proud of me? I discovered the Call of Corsair without your help."

I sensed satisfaction and light humor from the paladin. As I picked up the map, I noted the blue mark at Skingrad was now gone.

I was excited about this wonderful new ability, but there would be time for that later. I had a lost mage to find. Satisfied that Superian was comfortable at the stables, I set out on foot for Bleak Flats Cave.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jul 22 2010, 05:26 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Oh, how wonderful! I loved Sinderion, his charm, his story of Rislav the Righteous and the brave white stallion Corsair (is the name from the Lore, or from your seagoing background - I always liked that word for the little fast ships), and the spell! This chapter has several elements I adore in fiction - history, an epic hero, a brave horse, a little chemistry, and a charming rake! Oh, and the wine! That's the one thing I hate about writing Julian - she's a teetotaler these days. I respect that, but dang, I miss the wine!

May I suggest a refinement for the Call of Corsair? In dressage, and in many other examples of training/working with animals, a command will be better received if the animal first receives an indication that such a call is coming. In dressage, we call it the half-halt, before we cue for the movement we desire (such as half-pass, leg yield, change in gaits, etc). It alerts the horse that a transition is coming up, and sets him/her up to receive the message. the concept of a half-halt just a second or two prior to the actual Call may make it easier for Superian to accept the sudden translocation. It can take any form, such as a whisper, a feather touch, or a scent (horses respond best to these types of signals), but should precede the call only by a second or so. I think Buffy is enough a mage to figure out how to alert Superian to the impending spell so she is not so startled by it. Clicker training is the same concept and works for both dogs and horses.

Feel free to PM me if you need a better explanation!

[SubRosa]

Interesting story about Rislav the Righteous (if he was left-handed would he have been the Lefteous?), and Corsair. I noticed before that you did not show Buffy learning how to make Superian appear beside her when she Fast Travels (or even learn to Fast Travel at all). Now I see what you had in mind. This new method is much more interesting! Kudos!

I believe this is also Buffy's first taste of Tamika's? Not the last I dare say!

If Buffy is a she-elf, would that make her a shelf?


nits:
"No, I'm sorry, Associate, we don't have an alchemist at the guild."
You missed an opening quote where I added it above. Probably frightened off by stories of Vigge the Cautious.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 22 2010, 05:19 PM

[Olen]

I like you're characterisation of Sinderion, both knowledgeable in history and an expert in alchemy, and friendly to boot. Certainly you make him a likeable character. I like your take on the Nirnroots too, his interest and the gold seem fer better than some largely unuseful potions.

The wine sounds good too... it's making me fancy a bottle.

That picture is good, but the floorboards are huge!

[DarkZerker]

Lol. "You don't look like much of a mage"

Later: "You look like a mage"

XD

[D.Foxy]

Sub Rozza must have caught the Foxy wordplay disease....beware. It's extremely contagious, and very hard to get rid of!

And Old Friend, that screenshot of Buffy was PRICELESS!!!

[Winter Wolf]

Many thanks for the history lesson that you snuck into this chapter. It was the perfect thing to complement my cold hands and a warm cup of tea. Weaving the man, horse and hawk into Superian's fast travel was a delightful surprise.

When Buffy upended her pack I thought, Oh NO! that poor Sinderion will be cleaning up his abode for the next few weeks, what with everything Buffy seems to carry these days.

[Destri Melarg]

A history lesson from the old paladin! I need to sit down for this! Giddiness has left me light-headed. Your take on Rislav’s tale was great. I love the way that you were able to take a historic event and use it as the vehicle (no pun intended) whereby Buffy learns the mysteries of fast travel. Giving Rislav’s horse a name and a personality made this chapter.

I imagine it must be hard to appear suave and debonair when you live the entirety of your life in a cellar, but somehow Sinderion is able to manage it (even if his head does scrape against the beams on the ceiling). As for the effective use of the Elixir of Exploration . . . what’s not to like about a potion that fortifies your health at all levels and gives you five minutes of night-eye?

[Acadian]

In Chapter 10.2, Buffy paused during her Skingrad Mages Guild recommendation and met an intriguingly charming alchemist, familiar with nirnroot. Based on his suggestion, Buffy spoke to the statue of King Rislav the Righteous and learned a new ability.

The 'Call of Corsair' does not exist in game of course. It is an invented ability, and the battle described is based loosely on the lore of King Rislav. In fact, it is simply Buffy invoking 'fast travel' for the very limited purpose of teleporting Superian to Buffy's present map marker location. It is also a new feature, not in her original story.

I am finding that quite a few of Buffy's original chapters lack the rich detail that we now prefer. I hope you will bear with us as we find it necessary to continue enriching and revising more than I had anticipated. I still expect that the further we progress into her story, the less revising will be required. Related to that, I will also abandon efforts to try and have the chapter numbers match those of the previous version. Moving forward, each episode or post will get its own chapter number.

While I'm indulging in author's notes, let me say to all, how much Buffy and I appreciate the warm support and encouragement we receive. It means so very much to us.

Rider- In this case, the name Corsair came to me by way of Naval aviation. Both my father and I spent our long careers as Marine Corps pilots. Although my need for speed was fulfilled by the F-4 Phantom, the beautiful F-4U Corsair was the first winged love of Acadian Sr. The F4-U Corsair is WWII vintage and probably most popularly known as the steed of Greg (Pappy) Boyington and his Black Sheep squadron, VMF-214. For a time, the Navy flew an attack jet named the A7 Corsair. I think the name lends itself beautifully to its original ship references, as well as aircraft and horses.

Thank you so much for your wonderful ideas that we have amplified by PM. As you could tell, both Buffy and Superian were both upset by the disorientation that sudden teleport caused the mare. Thanks to your help, Buffy has plans to fix that very soon! I so appreciate the gracious guidance of our own Andalusian Angel of Dressage!

SubRosa- You miss nothing, my friend! Buffy's ability to call Superian from great distance was introduced earlier in the previous version, but without the more creative backstory. I'm so glad you liked it. I expect the commander of your Bravil Fighters Guild branch would be familiar with the name Corsair.

Yes, this was also the first of many references to Buffy's drink of choice! Thank you for catching my editorial oversight.

Olen- I too, have always liked Sinderion, and was delighted that he captivated Buffy as well. Thank you.

Zerker- Thanks! The 'you don't look like a mage' theme will continue into this next episode. Poor Buffy seems to be the only mage with a bow in the game.

Foxy- I've been saving that screenshot for you, just waiting for the perfect opportunity. I'm so glad you like it as much as I do!

Wolf- I'm delighted that, with Call of Corsair, we could introduce a small but new aspect into BF 2.0 for Buffy's supportive Aussie mate. There will be a few additional new twists and features ahead. Ahah, I see you remain well familiar with Buffy's challenges at organizing and limiting what she lugs around.

Destri- Given your own rich mastery of it, I'm so glad you liked our humble foray into lore. I really wrestled with a creative way to frame this limited use of fast travel, that is really key to keeping Superian close to Buffy. Without it, she would feel obliged to leave Superian stabled much more, for the mare's own safety. Buffy may traverse some hazardous overland stretches without Superian, but will always join with the mare as soon as possible when she reaches a suitable waypoint. Call of Corsair, plus lots of detect life equipment, and a walk on water spell (Buffy will get those things later) really makes horse travel a pleasure for them.

* * *

11 Bleak Flats Cave

The short trek north from Skingrad was uneventful. Red, yellow and blue flowers sparkled with morning dew as I gathered much flax seed from them. I knew I could combine it with other simple ingredients like the caps of steel-blue entoloma to make potions that could quickly restore magical energy. Better alchemists than I, like Ardaline, could even grind it up with potato to make potions that protected like armor. I also found some more nightshade and peony, handy for combining into simple poisons.

The nearby creeping vines had not claimed the old wooden door to Bleak Flats Cave, thereby suggesting its recent use. I unshouldered my bow, reminded myself to keep that detect life spell active and quietly slipped inside. Before proceeding further, I allowed a moment for my eyes to adjust. Crevices in the rocky ceiling allowed the occasional stray beam of dusty sunlight to pierce the darkness. My nose wrinkled at the faint, but unmistakable smell of deteriorating flesh. The skin of my bare arms and legs grew tiny bumps in response to the cool, damp air. Perhaps leathers might have been a better choice than my Arena raiment for this.

I had crept only a short ways when the pink glow appeared. It looked humanoid, but moved in an oddly stiff manner. I eased a little closer and let my spell lapse briefly.

As the glow faded, the form of what used to be a man or mer stood before me, draped in discolored rotting flesh. I selected a poison and reached into my quiver. The zombie jerked from the arrow's impact, but I saw no sign that my poison affected him. To make matters worse, by shooting from close range, I had compromised my hidden position. As he staggered towards me, I quickly loosed a second arrow and nocked a third as I rapidly started backing up. He fell at my feet, from the third arrow. I exhaled loudly and waited for my pounding heart to slow.

Well, that didn't go so well. I tried to keep track of who was immune to poison. Bravil's Priest of Mara, Uravasa Othrelas, had warned City Swimmer and I that the ghosts found in our chapel's undercroft could not be poisoned. City Swimmer had joked that perhaps the spirits were Argonian, since her whole race was immune to poison. I had learned about skeletons myself. Zombies needed to go on that list too. I wondered if maybe all undead were immune to my poisons?

I learned another lesson here. There was a fine line between a smooth, elegant, kill and scrambling in terror. Could I have engaged that zombie from longer range? Yep. Why didn't I? Squirming a little, I couldn't figure out a way to blame Acadian for this, so I had to admit it was because I got lazy and overconfident. Learn anything, Buffy? I hope so. Recasting my spell, I took a deep breath and snuck deeper into the cave.

I worked hard to use maximum range, not hesitating to back up some, or even sneaking to a point beyond the target to increase the distance of my shots. I would shoot from a corner and sneak out of sight even as my arrow was still in the air. Not perfect, but I was able to extinguish the glows of four more zombies scattered around the cave as I methodically progressed. Several times, I was able to shoot one of them more than once without being detected. When they did charge, my extra distance and their slow speed allowed me to get off the arrows I needed before they could reach me.

At the end of the tunnel now ahead of me, was a small cavern containing two zombies close enough to kiss each other (ugh). I could only get a medium range shot. Now what? I readied a spell and loosed an arrow. Sure enough, a wounded zombie and his healthy friend charged. My right hand spiked the air, and I watched my arm disappear as a shroud of magic descended over me. Quietly, I slipped into a small space between two stalagmites and the stone wall. The zombies, with their peculiar rigid gait, searched in vain. Finally they gave up and toddled back to their cavern. I nocked an arrow.

After repeating this process a couple more times, one of the zombies surrendered his pink glow. I was sure his friend was also wounded.

An arrow to his chest, followed by another as he raised his arms and lurched towards me, dropped the seventh of these undead beings. How many more were down here and where was this missing mage, Erthor?

I lit a torch and approached the bodies. The feathered shafts of several of my arrows protruded from each, while my own quiver was light. Combating nausea, I went about the gruesome task of cutting into the twice dead flesh to free my arrows. After cleaning and inspecting them, several were able to rejoin those in my quiver. Before I doused the torch, I noted a small opening at the end of the chamber, the only unexplored path.

After a few moments my eyes had readjusted to the darkness. I slipped into the tunnel, wrapped myself in the comforting shadows of the cold rock walls, and continued deeper into the cave. As another vertical life sign began to glow ahead, I stopped. I was encouraged to see this one moving about smoothly, instead of awkwardly staggering like the animated corpses I had encountered so far. I hoped it was Erthor. As I crept closer, a small cavern appeared at the end of this corridor, allowing an unobstructed view of the glowing life force. I let the pink haze fade. The Bosmer was softly illuminated by two flickering torches that had been wedged between cracked sections of the stone wall.

The last stranger I had encountered in such a dark place full of undead was a necromancer, deep in the bowels of Vilverin, who would have killed me had I not been prepared. Although I was pretty sure the elf ahead was my missing guild mate, I figured a girl can't be too careful. After mentally rehearsing the magic to summon my green swirling cobra, I set an arrow to the nock and partially drew the silk bowstring. With the broad head tip of my arrow directed at the ground, I took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows. "Hail, I'm from the guild. Are you Erthor?"

"Are they gone? All of them? Yes, I'm Erthor. Who are you? I've been too scared to leave since those walking dead moved in here. Are you here to rescue me?" The dark haired Bosmer with saucer eyes finally shut up for a moment.

"Yes, my name is Buffy. Well met, Erthor." I quivered the arrow. "Adrienne sent me, and I want you to come back to the guild with me. Oh, and yes, all the zombies are dead."

"Thank you, Buffy! Thank you so much! But you don't look like a mage."

Again, the 'don't look like a mage' stuff! I shouldered the bow, lifted my chin and planted both hands on my hips. "Would you like to wait for someone who looks like a mage?"

"Oh no!" Erthor gasped. "I-I meant no offense. Don't leave me. Please."

"Follow me then." I grabbed a burning torch from the wall and began to retrace my steps toward the cave's exit.

"Thank you again," Erthor chirped. "You're not from Skingrad are you? Is Adrienne mad at me? That's an awfully big bow. I'm starving. Do you know what the guild is having for dinner tonight? What kind of a name is Buffy? I'm right behind you. . . ."

The short trip back to the guild was uneventful. Erthor tagged along like a puppy, gushing his appreciation. I thought of my Bosmer mother and chuckled to myself. I could understand, perhaps, why she chose a Breton for a mate.

"Thank you for retrieving Erthor, Associate." Adrienne's tone was as if I had just delivered a copy of the Black Horse Courier instead of saving the life of one of our mages. "Raminus Polus will have my recommendation, just as soon as I get around to it."

Reminiscent of the day I met her, I watched the golden haired Breton's swirling blue gown as she swept out of the library. I wanted to like Adrienne - I envied her competency and elegance, but not her dismissively aloof manner. Perhaps she was just a very busy woman with all the responsibilities of running a guild. I was, after all, just a lowly Associate who didn't even look like a mage. As my mind flittered among the guilds I had visited so far, it came to rest upon the image of the beautiful Argonian that ran my Bravil chapter. I smiled at how lucky I was.

I treated myself to a warm bath to get the smell of decaying flesh out of my skin and hair. It felt nice to slip into a comfortable russet felt dress and slippers.

After a pleasant dinner in the guild's dining room with several of the mages, I spent the evening making ready for travel and studying my map for the next leg of our journey. All I needed were recommendations from the guilds at Kvatch, then Anvil. I wondered what things would be like at the Arcane University. It was beginning to look like I might actually get there.

Finally, I crawled into bed. Erthor's words came back to me. What's a mage supposed to look like? Giggling, I imagined what he saw. An elf wearing the Arena raiment of a blue team combatant, with a bristling quiver on her back and carrying a bow as tall as she. "Acadian, am I supposed to wear mage stuff?"

I had never sensed the slightest uncertainty or confusion from my paladin - until this moment. Intrigued, I closed my eyes and opened my mind to him.

Slowly, an image began to form. As it came into focus, I remembered getting ready to break camp one recent morning. A quiver was on my back and I was wearing leather boots, bracers, hunters pants and a short cropped vest. My bow was in my hand as I declared, "Acadian, it doesn't matter what you or anyone else wants me to wear. I don't care if you think it's too revealing or doesn't protect me well enough. Would you have me wear the iron suit of a warrior, unable to walk? Or perhaps the robes of a mage, tripping over the baggy folds? I'll wear whatever I want, whenever I want!"

After the image faded, I smiled and rolled over, ready for sleep. Tomorrow, as Superian, Acadian and I headed towards the guild at Kvatch, I would wear my Arena raiment.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jan 16 2011, 03:50 AM