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]

ghastley- Though Buffy’s historical depiction of the Order of the Lamp is recognizable from lore, we have freely taken liberties and filled in some gaps to our own purpose. That such knights were, first and foremost, paladins and why Vanus Galerion insisted upon it is such an example. Thank you!

Grits- That Dame Boderi’s revelation of her true identity gave you shivers is music to my ears! I so hoped for such a reaction. Thank you!

Lopov- I’m glad you endorse Buffy’s ‘supporting role’ in the crisis instead of being ‘The Chosen One.’ Being in support suits her nature much better. We view the Oblivion Crisis primarily as a familiar backdrop for Buffy's journey of personal growth. Thank you!

Rider- Looking back over the years, I’m surprised I remained blind to the signs. Only when I read The Deed of Paksennarion by Elizabeth Moon recently did the clarity of Buffy’s destiny snap fully into focus. The author’s depiction of what a paladin is all about literally sang to my heart, gave Buffy the courage to consider it and provided the inspiration to finally bring this book to life. Thank you!

SubRosa- In Buffy Fiction, paladins will be beacons of light in a dark and dangerous world. You are right to identify the challenge of avoiding self-serving motives and zealotry that can sometimes infest mortals claiming Divine inspiration. Our weapons against that will be incorruptibility and compassion. In Buffy's world, the Divines choose only a small number of paladins, and do so with great personal attention. As you say, a genuine force for good in a fantasy setting.

The attention to Mannimarco was relevant only to address what I felt was a potentially awkward historical timeline. ESO has the Worm King in what seems to be Molag Bal’s inescapable and permanent grip of torment at the end of the Planemeld – well before lore says he did battle with Vanus Galerion later in the Second Era and, much later, resurfaced to plague the Mages Guild in the Third Era. My hope in the last episode was to allow for the possibility that he somehow survived Molag Bal. Though I don’t rule it out, I have no current plans to present the Mages Guild questline. Rather, I’m leaning toward transitioning Buffy’s story to the Second Era (involving time travel of course) after this book. I much prefer writing where we’re playing instead where we were two games ago. Thank you!

DE- I’m pleased to hear you suggest that it's appropriate for Buffy to discover more about paladins before committing to that path. As we’ll gradually learn, there is a great deal about them that she does not know. She correctly understands they are beacons of Divine light but it will be Acadian who eventually reveals the limitations and hardships that such a life entails. And Buffy's godmother, Azura, is likely to complicate things as well. Thank you!

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Previously- The morning of Buffy’s departure for Leyawiin, she and Boderi shared a private breakfast. Boderi turned the conversation to the Order of the Lamp. Buffy knew that the Order had been comprised of paladins empowered and devoted to the Nine whose role had been to combat the evil use of magic. Boderi then surprised Buffy by revealing that the Order was still active but had been operating clandestinely – until now, and that Dame Boderi was a Paladin of Julianos who had been serving as the Order’s Palatinus for decades. Finally, Boderi asked Buffy to consider the path of a paladin herself.

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~ Part 3 – Aide from Leyawiin ~

Episode 9

I stood among a score of passengers under the midday sun. We waited as cargo was carried down a ramp mating the dock to the ship’s lower cargo hold. Among the crates and barrels still waiting to be loaded aboard was a mule and three sheep. I was grateful that Superian traveled safely as a spirit within me.

My thoughts returned to Boderi’s proposal that I ask the Nine to call me to their service. Though I traveled with the spirit of a paladin inside me, I was far from sure I totally understood what being one entailed. I knew, however, that before I decided anything I needed to talk to Acadian and probably some priests.

Oh, and Azura. It was the Mistress of Twilight who had touched me with her hand of fate and thrust the abilities of a Slayer upon me. Would she be angry if I considered serving the Nine? She would have no right to be. After all, I never asked for her interference in my life and considered being a Slayer more curse than blessing. I should speak to her about it though. . . as well as the fact that I loaned her Star to Mazoga and Agronak. I pushed such thoughts aside for now – my quest to Leyawiin and Bravil took priority.

Aside from myself and an Argonian dressed in a loam blouse and faded gray skirt, the rest of my fellow waiting passengers were men. Mostly merchants and artisans by the look of them.

After a gangplank was rigged to the main deck, a Bosmer at the far end waved us onto the ship. “Welcome aboard the Peony Princess. My name is Fillimir, ship steward.� The leather-faced elf had black hair slicked back into a short queue and was dressed in a burgundy tunic trimmed in black with matching pants over sturdy sailcloth shoes. After explaining some of the ship’s rules and meal times, he exchanged our tickets for waterwalking amulets, which we donned. “We’ll usually be in sight of land. In case we go down, stay calm, move away from the ship and walk to shore. These amulets don’t grow on trees, so I’ll need them back as you debark at your final destination. I’ll show you the galley on our way down to where you’ll sleep. This way please.�

We followed the steward below the weather deck, past the galley, through several passageways and down one more deck before he announced, “This is the passenger berthing compartment.�

As we passed a doorway from which hung a canvas curtain, he commented, “That’s the head - for cleaning yourself up and doing your personal business; if you want a full bath, wait till port or tie yourself to a line and splash around over the side.� He paused by the next opening along the bulkhead. “My office. You can usually find me in there or checking the galley.� Drawing open the canvas that covered a doorway across from his office, he revealed a small cabin. “This is where our two lady passengers will sleep.� Finally he gestured out toward the main compartment. Along the bulkheads on both sides were strung hammocks, three high. “You men sleep here. The Captain doesn’t tolerate any nonsense, so stay out of women’s berthing unless you want to swim to your destination.�

Once the Argonian and I entered our cabin, she slid the curtain closed and extended a scaled hand. “Quill-Weave. Are you going to Anvil as am I?�

“Buffy,� I said as my hand met hers. “Only to Leyawiin. I have business there. Do you live in Anvil then?�

“Yes, I am a writer and heading home after doing some research here on The Imperial City maze of a sewer system and the lost souls who call it home.�

“There is certainly plenty of mystery beneath the city,� I commented.

“What is your business in Leyawiin . . . I mean, if I am not being too nosy?�

“I’m just couriering a message for my guild of mages.�

“You don’t look like a mage – not with the way you’re dressed and those bowstring calluses on the fingers of your right hand.�

I held out the open hand of which the observant Argonian spoke. From its palm flickered to life the magenta arcane flame of my guild. As orange eyes widened, I closed my fingers to extinguish the beacon of guild recognition.

“It seems I was mistaken, magister.�

“I get that a lot. It seems buckskin-clad Bosmeri mystic archers are rare.� I then grinned. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to turn you into a scamp or anything like that. Your name and the ink stains on your own hands mark your profession well enough though.�

She held up her stained fingers. “So they do.� Looking at the three hammocks strung above each other, she added, “You want top or bottom?�

“May I have the top?�

“Perfect,� she replied. “I prefer the bottom. Most of us scaled folk like being low or even underground. I don't snore but sometimes my tail thrashes around in my sleep. It will be safer for you being above me."

I chuckled, then countered, “Being a short elf conceived in the treetops probably explains my preference for high perches.� Suddenly I felt the ship move. “We’re underway!�

“Old hat to me,� replied the Argonian as she opened her worn travel bag.

I began to change clothes as Quill-Weave carefully arrayed her writing supplies on the single small table.

“You know,� she continued, “after my current book, I’m toying with writing one about the guilds of Cyrodiil. May I ask you a question?�

“Of course,� I replied, wriggling out of my buckskins.

“Everyone knows that a display of the arcane flame marks one as a member of the Mages Guild – just as the red and white medallion worn by members of the Fighters Guild serves to identify them. From interviews with mages, I have learned that the ability is bestowed as a mage begins their course of study at the Arcane University.�

“That’s all correct,� I confirmed as I tugged an ivory skirt with emerald trim over my hips. “During the ceremony, the mage is infused with a tiny portion of the guild’s arcane flame that she can henceforth display as you saw me demonstrate.�

“If a member of the Fighters Guild is expelled,� Quill-Weave explained, “they forfeit their amulet. Fleeing without surrendering it generates a writ from the guild to track down the disgraced fighter and recover the symbol of their guild – by whatever means is necessary. My question is, how does your guild preclude a disgraced member from still displaying Mages Guild credentials?�

“Well, we try not to kill them if that’s what you’re asking.� I pulled a white peasant blouse over my head. “We’re not the Dark Brotherhood, after all. When a mage is expelled from the guild and does not willingly surrender it, their tiny piece of the arcane flame acts like a beacon to those trained to locate and recover it.�

Quill-Weave was scribbling busily. “I assume the guild has mages whose duties include enforcement of such things?�

“You assume correctly. I’m sure you can appreciate that the specifics are more effective if not disseminated beyond those who use them.�

She paused her note taking to look at me and nod her understanding. “Very enlightening. I like the mystery angle; readers eat that stuff up. When someday I finish the book, Buffy, where may I send an autographed copy for you?�

“What a thoughtful gesture!� I replied. “It will reach me if sent to the Arcane University.� We chatted a bit more as I pulled a brush through my hair. Before I excused myself to head topside for some fresh air, we agreed to meet later in the galley for dinner.

After getting lost and having to ask one of the crew for directions, I finally emerged on the busy main deck. Sails billowed and sailors bustled. I found what looked like an out of the way spot on one side of the ship. I held the railing with one hand to steady myself against the ship’s movement and kept the other near my skirt in case an errant breeze lifted it. Closing my eyes, I savored the wind in my hair and sun on my face.