Wow, fantastic! I like Buffy a lot, she seems to be a very interesting character. Yes, I'm on this forum only to read your story, since you had it in your signature on another forum.
But for real now. The concept of being a guide to your character sounds fresh and fantastic. Something I should try! But for now, the story is good. Well written and I feel connected with the character.

Good stuff. I enjoyed how you introduced the horse at the end after she had completed the Cheydinhal recommendation, itmade the part more filling and leads into the next part with a bit more of a hook than other's have had.

Now for some dungeon diving I suspect...

In Chapter 6, Buffy obtained her third recommendation endorsing admission to the Arcane University. In the process, she discovered both new friends and treachery within the Cheydinhal branch of her guild. It is here also, that Buffy met her precious black mare.

Rider- Thank you! Buffy is young and impetuous of course. She is wowed by the speed factor. Although not yet well equipped to deal with the responsibilities of traveling with a horse, I suspect that from love and necessity will spring the tools and skills they will need to survive.

Zalphon- Aww, thank you Z!

SubRosa- As always, you seem to zoom in on everything I hope to accomplish in each chapter. Falcar and Deetsan 'make' this quest of course. I'm so glad you liked Superian's intro. Your forecasting ability for what's next is as sharp as ever. Thank you for the keen editorial eye that helped me corral several variations of Cheydinhal.

Wolf- Buffy did manage to retrieve the ring in the first version, so blame me for your surprise. Given that the ring drowned a strong Nord, Buffy's low strength, and her anger at Falcar, it seemed to flow better leaving the ring in the well this time.

Oh, you found out about Buffy borrowing Carandial's Bay and parking it on the bridge . . . . Now Aradroth, have you ever criticized a woman about how she parks and come out on the winning side of the argument?

Superian is so precious to Buffy. I'm glad her introduction left an impression.

Alchemist- Thank you for joining us and your kind words! I am delighted that you like the character of Buffy. I so hope we can earn your continued readership.

Olen- I'm glad that you liked introducing Superian here. Yes, Acadian's bread crumbs do seem to indicate a dungeon ahead. I do hope, at some point, he stops trying to tell her where to go all the time and the two learn to work together as a team.


The unfamiliar sound ahead stopped me dead in my tracks. I remained hidden, listening to an ominous mechanical whirring that had suddenly begun. There was also a rhythmic, whooshing noise.

The sound a heavy blade makes as it cuts the air.

I lifted my right fist and unclenched it, releasing a swirl of pink energy into the dim corridor. No evidence of life ahead - at least not for the short range of my spell. I had come to love being able to see life signs ahead, but really needed to learn how to get more range. I was getting pretty good at keeping that pink glow spell going while I was in dangerous places. Vilverin had so far, proven dangerous for sure.

The noise got louder as I approached, until the deadly challenge came into view. Several giant cleaver-shaped blades suspended from the ceiling were swinging across my path. I had heard that Ayleid ruins contained traps that, despite their antiquity, remained as lethal as their builders intended. It looked like there was room to stand between the blades though. Perhaps run past one and wait to time the next? Mesmerized I watched.

After a time, I could see a pattern. There was a recurring point when all the blades were briefly clear of the tunnel. I decided to shoulder my bow, get ready to run, and wait for one of those short windows.

When I was pretty sure my timing was right, I raced forward and cleared the blades. I was now in a small square chamber with four ways in or out. Each of the entrances was protected by the same type of swinging blade trap I had just survived. The sound of all four sets of blades and whatever machinery caused them to work was deafening, and made concentration difficult. Soft lighting was provided by pale blue crystals embedded into the very walls and ceiling, similar to what I had seen on the upper three levels of this ruin. In the center of the room was a pedestal upon which was perched a delicate statue.

The figure was undoubtedly of Ayleid origin and looked valuable. It was small enough to carry, so I placed it in my pack to join several large beautiful stones I had found that were clearly magical. I knew the blue ones were called welkynd stones, for I had seen one in the Leyawiin guild and asked. One of them was white however, and unfamiliar to me. I was still broke after buying Superian, but figured I'd be rich if I ever made it out of here. I couldn't carry much more weight though.

Which of the blade traps to brave next? Each one could kill me with a single misstep or error in timing. I decided to take the next path to my left. My bow was still on my back so I could run faster. I stood before the deadly dance of those blades, waiting for the right moment, then raced safely through them, down a short tunnel and into the next room. Finally the blade noises stopped. Ha! I figured I was smarter than those old Ayleids. Then, the silence yielded to a quiet, ominous sound from one of the dark corners of this small dead end chamber.

The rattle of bones.

I jumped to my left, but the skeleton's axe jarred my right shoulder with a glancing blow. Had I been a little slower, it likely would have severed my arm. There was no time to bring my bow to bear, and nowhere to run with those blades ready to start swinging again. As I rolled back to my right, I yelped when his axe grazed my left thigh. I managed to cast a spell as I recovered my footing and quickly sidestepped further to the right. The skeleton slashed wildly at the air where I had last been visible.

My spell had bought me a few seconds, and I reached for my bow. After nocking an arrow I quietly circled to a position behind the skeleton. Despite backing up as far as I could, he was still awfully close.

I loosed the arrow into his back and could see my hands and bow reappear as the invisibility dissipated. He threw up his arms at the impact, then spun around to face me. Raising his axe, he issued a taunting screech and charged. With only a few feet between us, I didn't have time for a second arrow, and turned my weapon to block his. Fire flew from my fingertips. His axe struck the bow, but only with the force of his weight as he fell, bones bouncing and skittering across the stone floor. Several more fire spells slammed harmlessly into the wall across the small room before it registered that I could stop casting.

My right shoulder was throbbing. The glancing blow had done more bruising than cutting, but a trickle of blood ran down my arm and was dripping from my elbow. Although my left leg didn't hurt too badly, it was bleeding quite bit from a shallow gash on the outside of my thigh. Both my legs were wet all over, but not with blood. I felt the hot flush of embarrassment spring to my neck and face.

It was only now, in the aftermath of the fight, I realized that I had peed myself.

"Acadian!" I cried out in pain, shame and anger. "Why did you urge me to come here?" Tears were streaming down my face now. "Are you trying to get me killed? Does it give you pleasure to see me bleed?" I knew I was yelling and that it might attract more skeletons. At that moment however, I welcomed the prospect of them finishing the job the pile of bones surrounding me had started. "I hate you, Acadian!"

Sobbing uncontrollably, I sank to the cold stone floor into a pool of my own blood, tears, and pee. I was a pathetic elf. If I could have mustered the energy, I would have gotten up and walked slowly back into those blades.

I felt Acadian's presence and closed my eyes tightly trying to make him go away. Images began to flash rapidly in my head. I tried, but couldn't stop them. Fire, smoke, explosions, blood, death. Warriors clashing on fields that were foreign to me. Battle streamers and graveyards I did not recognize. More images that I could not understand, then blackness again.

I couldn't begin to process all that I had seen or felt, but I did now have a better understanding of the presence that traveled with me. Acadian was a paladin, from a time and place that was older than Nirn itself. He had traversed valleys of death, and knew first hand, the pain of my wounds and depth of my fears.

After what seemed like hours, I finally ran out of tears and began to think a bit more clearly. How did this happen? With the distraction of those blades, I forgot to keep my pink glow spell active. I should have detected the skeleton before I ran into this chamber that almost became my tomb. It was no one's fault but my own.

I slowly and stiffly got up. Everything worked and was still attached. I was a mess though, covered in blood, tears and worse. The right leather shoulder covering on my Arena raiment was hanging uselessly. I almost started to smile as I imagined what I must look like.

Wincing from the shoulder wound, I lifted my right hand towards the ceiling. Magicka traveled up my arm until I released a globe of white energy above my head. It gently encircled me and slowly cascaded down to my toes carrying away most of the pain. I found an apple in my pack which I ate, then chased it with a soothing potion. Not perfect, but good enough to continue.

The damage to my bow was minimal and I was able to repair it. Fixing the blue raiment however, was still beyond my ability so I took it off. After cleaning myself up as best I could using a spare blouse, I donned a leather cuirass, boots and some laced leather pants from my pack. I walked around the small room, getting used to the armor, and stretching to ease my stiffness.

As I started to leave the chamber, I paused and sheepishly said, "Acadian, I-I don't really hate you." I fiddled with the buckles on my cuirass, and continued even more hesitantly, "Ever since I was a little girl, sometimes when I get really frightened and surprised at the same time I, well, you know." Then I added, "That really needs to stay just between us."

I retraced my steps until the blades started swinging again. At the right moment, I sprang through them back into the statue room. I picked another tunnel, but this time I cast my detect life spell and was quite sure that I would keep it active for the rest of my time in Vilverin.

Do I detect our little Buffy degenerating into classic Val speak? "Like, you know, Vilverin, like, had so far, like, proven, like, dangerous, for sure, like, you know?"

I loved her take on what really is a "baby" dungeon, though it didn't seem that way the first time I went in there (yes, it was my first Ayleid ruin, and no, I didn't go in there straight out of the sewers - I delayed going into those places cuz they look so damn spoooky)!

Oh, and the quandary of insufficient strength to carry out all those Welkynd Stones! As a rookie, I sold them off as fast as I collected them. Then I found out their value, especially the Varla Stones. D'oh! (Facepalm moment)

Those skellies rank right up there with will-o-wisps as among my least favorite (or most hated) enemies in Oblivion. They're hard to see in the dark, they hit hard, and they're hard to knock down with anything less than a heavy claymore or battle axe. That's why I always pick Indary's Thornblade when I do the missing knights quest - it does a nice job on those suckahs!

So Buffy peed in her pants. That's not bad, not bad at all. At least she didn't turn her pants brown.

We will keep Buffy's little secret between us as well...

Vilverin has always been one of my favorite Ayleid ruins, and favorite dungeons over all. It is a great place to dive into as soon as you clear the prison, as you can gear up with whatever kind of weapons and armor are you choice. At four levels it is big. It has lots of variety, with many different kinds of traps and underwater areas. It has nearly every basic kind of enemy you are likely to find in an Ayleid ruin. Plus it has a neat story attached to it when you read the notes left behind.

Poor Buffy. Here we see her facing many of the difficulties of the new adventurer. Letting herself become distracted, and walking into the worst situation a missile character can face, a melee opponent in a confined space. Worse, being a skeleton her Cobra's Dance is useless against it (although I found paralysis does work on zombies. I guess because they still have muscles).

One of the good things about her wet straits are that the entire scene, and her reaction to it, reveal Buffy to be a very real, down-to-Nirn character with vulnerabilities. Superheroic uber god slayers are as boring as they are one-dimensional. Characters like Buffy and Julian -with their physical and/or emotional issues - are people that regular folks can identify with, and seeing them triumph in spite of their problems and setbacks is all the more inspiring.

We also see that her detect life, while helpful, is not all that Buffy would like it to be either. I see a reason here for her to seek out a longer range and duration version in the future. As much as it is a handy spell to see through walls, I find the mist it puts around things annoying when I get up close to them though. When playing an assassin type who likes to sneak up and backstab, it can even make it difficult to tell where the target's back and front are!


nits:
My right shoulder was throbbing. The glancing blow had done more bruising than cutting, but a trickle of blood ran down my arm and was dripping from my elbow. Although my left leg didn't hurt too badly, it was bleeding quite bit from a shallow gash on the outside of my thigh. Both my legs were wet all over, but not with blood. I felt the hot flush of embarrassment spring to my neck and face.
It was only now, in the aftermath of the fight, I realized that I had peed myself.
It looks like a formatting issue here. I think the last sentence was meant to be part of a new paragraph?

5 You Hear Voices Too?

I agree with all the comments made about this chapter. The opening was superb; I love stories that drop us into the middle of the action. Bringing us up to speed via flashback could have degenerated into a lot of unnecessary narrative, but I think you handled it with just the right amount of subtlety. And the idea of Dagail recognizing the old paladin riding with Buffy is an addition that makes the chapter for me!

6 Superian

You have addressed my major issue with the Cheydinhal Recommendation in this chapter. I really felt Deetsan’s remorse over Vidkun’s death (as opposed to the kind of absent-minded nonchalance that the game treats it with). The fact that Buffy chooses to leave the ring rather than drown is something that I wish Vidkun had the good sense to do. I guess you could make the argument that it proves that Natural Selection works, even in Cyrodiil. The kid who eats too much paste isn’t supposed to make it to the prom

Hmmm, Buffy decides to hold onto her gold rather than repair her armor, and within seconds Superian is presented to her. Methinks the subtle hand (er, voice?) of Acadian is guiding her here.

7.1 Vilverin

I love the idea of Buffy continuing to cast long after the skeleton goes down. And I agree with haute, Vilverin was quite intimidating the first time I went through it. I’ve never had a character go right across the lake after leaving the sewers. I usually wait until I have a spell or an item (I’m looking at you, Fin Gleam!) that allows me to see in the dark.

And don’t worry, Buffy, we’ve all peed our greaves at one point or another!

Hey, you're scaring the children with gameplay knowledge of Ayleid ruins! Seriously though, extremely enjoyable. You're starting to scare me, Buffy. You're supposed to write her adventures only so good, otherwise we start to blend you two. So, Acaffy, how are you? You see, it's already starting!

Chapter 7.1 found Buffy deep within the Ayleid ruin of Vilverin. Overconfidence and distraction turned a skeleton encounter into a disaster. In the aftermath, she learned some more about Acadian and appeared determined to learn from her mistakes as she continued deeper into the dungeon.

Rider- Heh, skeletons. I wonder why undead show up as life signs? Buffy is just glad they do, assuming of course she remembers to cast her spell. She and I have to keep reminding ourselves just how ignorant/innocent she was at this point so long ago. Her naivete about encounters with dark strangers in scary places is on stunning display in her next journal entry below.

SubRosa- Buffy's encounter with that skeleton, and the aftermath, was a powerfully emotional scene for both her and Acadian. I remember, with vivid clarity, your personal endorsement of her embarrassing problem in the first version. I appreciated it then, as I do now. You are right that this scene highlighted some of her many quirks, imperfections and vulnerabilities that simply make her. . . Buffy. Thank you for your kind words. Thank you also for noting my formatting oversight so I could fix it.

Destri- Thank you so much for the kind words and in depth comments! I'm so humbled that there was much for a writer of your skill to like.

I tend to think of myself as very simplistic in a weaving story, but I wonder if, in the case of Superian, my bread crumb trail was too light? Buffy was wowed by the majestic stallion of the Black Horse Courier rider in Ch 5. The next afternoon, while camping at the Serpent Stone, she lamented about needing to save money as she wondered how much such a horse cost (I was trying to foreshadow her plans). In her merchant dealings in both Ch 5 & 6, I tried to make her seem almost obsessed about selling off potions and saving up her septims. My hope was that in Ch 6 at the stables, it would become clear what her plans were for the money she had been trying so hard to save. You are so right that Buffy indeed often has the meddling Acadian to thank or blame (Cobra's Dance, visiting Dagail, going to Vilverin), but getting 'my little pony' was actually all her idea. If it wasn't clear though, it's the writer's fault, and I will bear that in mind going forward. What I did do was edit in a few line of dialogue in Borba's store to more clearly reveal her plans; I hope that helps. Thanks again so much.

Zalphon- Buffy and I blending? You can see how she has wormed her way into my avatar. Seriously though, we have learned to understand each other very well. Thank you.



The blade trap offered a narrow but predictable window of time. After safely sprinting through it, I slid the grummite bow from my back and slowly crept forward. Finally, I was far enough away for those infernal blades to stop. The quiet was welcome.

I continued forward until a life sign began to glow ahead. Judging by the size, shape and movement it appeared to be man or mer. I had encountered only bandits, skeletons and zombies in this ancient place called Vilverin, and assessed this as likely another bandit.

Silently creeping within the dark embrace of the stone corridor, I moved closer. My view was now unobstructed, and I let the pink glow surrounding the figure expire so I could see it better. The large chamber ahead was lit by several flickering sconces that lined the walls. Even in the cold of this deep ruin, the smell of decay from several corpses laced the air. The Redguard moving about was dressed in black flowing robes, cut like those often worn by mages. He did not look to be in league with the thuggish bandits I had encountered above.

I quietly watched him as I debated what to do next. Although I suspected he was a foe who would attack me, what if I was wrong? Was I willing to bet his life on it by sniping him dead from the shadows? Should I give him the chance to declare himself? Perhaps he was simply a mage who was researching Ayleid ruins. Had his party been besieged by the bandits of Vilverin until he was the only survivor? I should think that bandits would rather starve mages to death than try to fight them directly. Maybe that could explain the corpses in the chamber. Of course, if I was wrong, the thought of taking on a mage in a fair fight was quite unsettling.

I wrestled with the dilemma: Safely kill an unknown mage from the shadows, or confirm his nature, and if he was hostile, very possibly be outmatched. There was a third solution, but I was loath to retreat after fighting my way though four levels of bandits and undead. I had paid the price with my blood to be here.

I thought about quietly asking Acadian what to do, but I feared the paladin's answer.

I made my choice. Please Mara, help me to survive what I dread is the right decision.

I reached into my pack for a green vial, but then remembered something City Swimmer had taught me. Once, when we were talking about Argonians being immune to poison, she told me that Redguards have a strong resistance to it. Oh great, Buffy, can this get any more dangerous? Then an encouraging thought came to mind. The deadly Cobra I had learned from the Serpent Stone could care less if my target was a Redguard.

With my bowstring partially drawn, but the tip of my arrow directed unthreateningly at the stone floor, I stood upright and stepped from the shadows into the corridor. "Hail, friend. I am no bandit, but a fellow mage and I mean you no harm. Do you require assistance?"

The Redguard's head snapped towards me. With hatred in his eyes, he hissed, "What have we here? A new plaything? You may prove entertaining, once your corpse is cold, elf."

His intent was clear from the first word. The rest of his short speech gave me the time to raise the tip of my arrow and loose it. As soon as the bowstring snapped forward, my right hand immediately followed, unleashing my green swirling serpent.

His glowing hand spiked the air, but whatever spell he was attempting fizzled as the impact of my arrow staggered him.

Before he could react, my cobra struck his chest, releasing its venom. Powerless to control his limbs, he collapsed to the floor allowing me time to accurately release a second arrow that proved fatal.

I approached the body, anxious to confirm who I had just killed. The front of his black robes bore an unfamiliar symbol - a skull and bones emblazoned in red. A search produced an undelivered letter that confirmed who and what he was.

I remembered Kud-Ei telling me that the Arch Mage had banned the practice of necromancy within the guild, so I had never seen one of its practitioners before - until now.

"I will remember the symbol on your robes," I said grimly to the corpse. "You returned my offer of life with the threat of death. I shall not extend that offer should I encounter your kind again."

Further searching of the room revealed a key and some treasure that I put in my pack, groaning at the weight.

Then I noticed a large iron bowl in the middle of the chamber that contained a faintly glowing cloth sack. Inside, was an ancient parchment that explained its magical properties. The bag was waterproof, and I could carry it with me in my pack. I could put items of any size and shape inside and they would weigh nothing!

Given the flawlessly lethal traps and magically elegant construction I had seen in this ancient ruin, I figured the invention of such a bag was well within the ability of the Ayleids.

"By Mara!" I sat down with this magic bag to think about the possibilities. All the stuff I wanted to stay dry like this journal, a loaf of bread and my bedroll. Then it really hit me - clothes! Every girl needs extra clothes, and they would stay nice and dry in there. I mean, I only carry four pairs of shoes and just half dozen or so outfits and a rain robe with hood, but the weight does sort of add up. Especially including my leathers, and oh yes, that fur cuirass I found to wear up north.

I figured I would sort things out later. For now I just tossed a few things into the bag, then slipped it into my pack. Ah, much better!

Aside from the way I came in, there was only one other tunnel in or out of that room. I grabbed my bow, cast my spell and snuck off down that corridor. Soon I encountered a locked gate. It yielded to the key I had found and I was near the exit.

Shielding my eyes from the bright but welcome sunshine, I emerged from the darkness. Superian took a step back and flared her nostrils at the smells of death and other things on me. After a few reassuring words however, I forced her to endure a hug. We then moved over behind the ruin and down to a small pier at the water's edge.

Having scared myself enough today, I carefully avoided catching a glimpse of my reflection in the smooth waters of Lake Rumare. I started washing Vilverin off of me and everything I owned.

Excellent stuff, you capture so much in this piece. Buffy is a string and unusual character. Her frivolity sits so strangely with the danger she puts herself in and the number of people she kills that I can't help but laugh quite often. She finds some sort of bag of holding and the first thing she thinks of is shoes - brilliant .

You also really get a feel of what Oblivion is (or perhaps should have been) which is fun to read and reminds me of my own exploits while playing. Nice inclusion of the redguard poison resistance too.

Now we start to see Buffy's Doctrine crystallizing. How wonderful that a hint of ruthlessness should show in an otherwise blond woman - it gives her character some solidity.

Julian is laughing at this: Ah, civilian women!

I have thought about the whole detect life and undead business, and I have decided for the TF I am going to say that what the spell actually detects is the magicka that is held within a person's soul. That is why you only see glows off things you can use a soul trap on (or in the case of the TF, a magicka trap), and not off every insect, tree, or blade of grass.

What I especially like here is Buffy's indecision on what to do when she faces Jalbert. Having no idea what he really is, how can she proceed? It is a problem every adventurer with a conscience faces. Do you make assumptions and ambush someone who might be innocent, or risk yourself and find out for certain if the other person is friend or foe? When I wrote this same chapter in the TF, one of the reasons I went out of my way to show the evidence of Jalbert's cruelty in the preceding rooms was to make this question clear-cut to Teresa.

"You returned my offer of life with the threat of death. I shall not extend that offer should I encounter your kind again."
That is our Buffy, cuddly as a rattlesnake. Here we see one of the building blocks of the Buffy Doctrine™ as well.

I only carry four pairs of shoes and just half dozen or so outfits
This is so incredibly girly! I love it!

*grumble*

I was about to rush into praise for your excellenct characterization of the adventurer's dilemma on shooting first and asking questions later, and your understanding of Buffy's need for clothes...

...but I see I've been beaten to the keyboard.


Ah well. Kudos to you, friend - it's touches like these that show your brilliance!

Hey, I just started reading the Buffy the Bowgirl saga and ITS AMAZING!

I found this considering you are really famous in the TES forums on the Bethesda official forums. So I'm on board!

Does it ever get better? No, it's already perfection.

That chapter was a treasure trove of fun!

Look out the next necromancer that comes across our cute and cuddly rattlesnake!!!!

Arrow, Cobra’s Dance, second arrow . . . dead Redguard! Buffy begins to evolve as a natural tactician. As always your description of the exchange reads like a primer for anyone wanting to learn how to play as an archer. I loved the Bosmer stubbornness that Buffy gives us so soon after literally having the pee scared out of her:

You’ve paid the price with other bodily fluids too, Buffy.

In Chapter 7.2, Buffy learned how to identify necromancers, and that they are hostile. It is a lesson she will remember. She emerged from the bowels of Vilverin with an Ayleid enchanted bag of holding (mod).

Olen- Danger and frivolity. Thank you for that perfect characterization. At this young age, her mind is a swirling stew of the exhilaration she feels using her bow, protective loyalty to friends, terror, overconfidence, vengeance, and. . . yes, what shoes to wear. All simmering within the broth of youthful naivete.

Rider- Oooh! Thank you for picking up on the early indicators of the 'Buffy Doctrine'. And of course, the high priority she gives to wardrobe considerations. I suspect she would quickly be rejected by the Legion, based on what Mrs. Acadian calls being 'lethally blonde'.

SubRosa- Yes, I agree on detect life. I think of it as shorthand for life force or spiritual presence or such. 'Soul trappable' is a good acid test, as you say.

Buffy's dilemma over identifying the black-robed figure was new in this version, and I think more realistic, given her age and lack of 'Nirnliness'. You did a masterful job of dealing with this in a different manner in TF.

Thank you also for picking up on the cuddly rattlesnake with a fashion fetish.

Foxy- Thank you for those kind and insightful words! She will learn better and safer arcane ways to identify her targets in the future than blurting, "Hi, I'm Buffy".

DarkZerker- I am so pleased that you found your way over here. Yes, Buffy is quite the chatterbox over there on the Bethesda Oblivion forums. She is indeed an unusual 'crossover' between both the game and fanfic forums. In fact, she was originally forged as a training aid on those forums to discuss mystic archery and rapidly developed her own persona. It was heartening indeed to hear that Buffy has influenced your own game play.

Zalphon- Thank you for those very kind words. I'm sure I could never write anything except the journal of Buffy - so it's wonderfully rewarding to hear that you think we have some talent for that.

Wolf- Yes, necromancers have joined Buffy's list of varmints. Despite a short attention span, she does have a long memory. Thank you.

Destri- Thank you. Stubborn? Yes, 'guiding' Buffy along is akin to herding cats. I'm so pleased that you find the 'mystic archer how to' aspects of interest. That was the original genesis of her stories and we are proud to say, aspects of it will always remain.



Earana towered over me in her green silk finery, seething. "You gave 'Fingers of the Mountain' to Teekeeus? Stupid girl! I don't care how you get it, but I want that book! Despite your incompetence I'll even still give you the reward I promised."

"If you want me to choose loyalties between a rogue mage with a bad attitude or my guild, you lose," I snapped angrily. "That book is the property of the Mages Guild now."

Earana's face contorted into a mask of hatred and her golden Altmeri skin reddened. "You just earned yourself a dangerous enemy, little one."

Bristling, I instinctively raised my left hand towards my bow. Just as quickly I stopped myself and slowly lowered it. I was intimidated by the Altmer mage and pretty sure that she would win if it came down to a fight in the open. It didn't matter though, as, from the corner of my eye, I saw the guard under the Great Oak. The message his hand sent as it moved to rest upon the pommel of his sword was unmistakable. I didn't want to get into a fight with a guard either. I figured he just had a job to do and maybe even a family. Besides, my last confrontation with a soldier only lasted a second or two and didn't go well at all for me.

"W-we're done here, Earana." I promptly wheeled around and stepped off towards the North Gate trying to display confidence instead of fear. It might have worked had I not stuttered like a pathetic child. If I were an an Argonian, I'm sure my tail would have been between my legs. I sure hoped that guard intimidated Earana as much as he did me. I figured he was the only thing preventing a fireball in my back.

Luckily for me, the only things that flew my way from Earana were threats. "You think we're done?" she hissed. "Far from it, tree elf. The guards can't protect you forever"

I paused briefly, torn between the fear and anger that swirled within me, then forced myself to continue walking away. I whispered, "Nor can they protect you from what you will never see, Earana."

Approaching the guard on duty at the North Gate, I forced a smile his way, then exited the city of Chorrol.

With the comfort of forest in front of me and city gate pressed firmly against my back, I allowed some of the fear I had felt during my encounter with Earana to flood over me. I began to shake. It would not be safe to visit Chorrol again as long as she lived. I knew that I lacked the skill to survive a fair fight. That's not the kind I had in mind though. Let it go, Buffy - for now.

Superian was grazing outside the gate, as I absently rubbed my fingertips together. Magic can be quite disconcerting for horses, yet she travelled with a mage and it was important for her to be comfortable around spell casting. We had worked together, gradually and carefully. She had gotten used to seeing me cast detect life spells, and even disappearing and reappearing next to her. She had never been the target of my spells though. I hoped we were ready for this next step.

Channeling magicka into my hand, I released a small swirling green trail at Superian. When it struck, she was bathed in a soft glow and her head popped up from grazing. She immediately came running. I gave her a hug, then positioned my hands on her neck to assess her condition. I smiled as I sensed her calmness. "Thank you for your trust, my friend." I unsheathed my hunting knife and sliced an apple, which we shared.

As we munched our snack, I could see the trail winding north from Chorrol that led to Cloud Top. During our trip there two days ago to recover that troublesome book, the sound of moving water had drawn me off the trail to a pair of ponds connected by a cascading stream. The falling water cleverly concealed a cave called Black Rock Caverns. I didn't care about the cave, but I now felt the call of those beautiful waterfalls.

Superian insisted she get the last piece of apple, then we rode the short distance to the falls, and climbed to the upper pond. I removed the leather keep from my ponytail and shook my hair loose. After carefully placing my bow, quiver, clothes and pack on the ground, I dove into the cool water.

After a short swim, I climbed out of the pond and sat next to my pack. I basked in the sunshine now drying my skin and hair. A lazy breeze helped the tree branches above gently dance to the calming sounds of rushing water. Superian was peacefully grazing on the same carpet of green softness that tickled the backs of my legs. I just needed to revel in being a wood elf, even if for a short time.

I counted off the recent cities, extending my thumb, then a finger for each one - Bravil, Leyawiin, Cheydinhal, Bruma, Chorrol. After five guild recommendations, this break was welcome. No trudging off to the next town for another silly fetch and carry task. Not yet.

I was sure Acadian had probably placed some blue mark on my map. I hadn't looked, and right now, didn't care. The map could wait.

The golden warmth felt delicious on my skin. It was such a contrast to the cold and snow. Sunshine was supposed to be warm. I suspected the sun they had in Bruma was pretend though. It was bright alright, but had no warmth to it at all. I had to wear an ugly fur cuirass, along with leathers and boots on my legs and feet to keep warm. The views of the Imperial City were spectacular though, and Bruma was a good area to find milk thistle and wormwood.

The guild recommendation there had been a simple matter, really. There was the absent-minded guild head with perhaps not the highest level of skill, a pair of silly boys pulling an immature prank, find this, get that. . . . Well, it wasn't all bad I guess. I found Volinaro, the Altmer jokester, to be kind of attractive and rather charming. Oh, and he did help me to get better at using spells to coax open locks.

Ultimately though, Jeanne Frasoric, the guild head, said she would forward a recommendation to the University, and assured me it would carry great weight with the admissions magisters. I left Bruma as soon as I could. I guess wood elves just weren't made for the cold.

Noticing that the warm sun above Chorrol had dried my skin, I grabbed my journal and exchanged affectionate glances with Superian.

The road from Bruma to Chorrol had been uneventful. When danger approached, Superian simply broke into a run until the threat was well behind us. As we had neared Weynon Priory I remembered the Emperor's amulet, still in my pack. I vividly recalled some of his words about his own death, "No trophies of my triumphs shall precede me. But I have lived well, and my ghost shall rest easy." Smiling to myself, I hoped he was indeed resting easy. The Emperor had been kind to me and I was happy to try and deliver his amulet.

Jauffre had been upstairs, seated at his desk reading a book. I recalled what Baurus had said, "He is the grandmaster of my order, although you might not know it to look at him. He lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory." I decided the description was accurate. One had to look carefully past the advancing years, balding head and simple brown robe to see that he appeared to be a powerful man.

"The Emperor sent me," I said simply. "I have the Amulet of Kings."

"Who are you?" Jauffre barked, visibly shaken. "What do you know of the Emperor's Death?" Then he sternly continued, "The Amulet of Kings? I don't believe you. You'd better start explaining right now, young lady!"

Instantly, I disliked this man. I pulled the large red amulet from my pack and dropped it on his desk.

"By the Nine!" exclaimed Jauffre. "This is the Amulet of Kings!" His wide open eyes shifted from the amulet to me, then narrowed sharply, "How did you get this?"

Resenting his interrogation, I wondered if he meant that a simple she-elf from Bravil was not worthy of touching the Amulet of Kings, or perhaps he thought I stole it? Defiantly, I lifted my chin and stated, "The Emperor gave it to me." I then curtly described Uriel Septim's last hours and words.

Jauffre told me the story of Martin, the Emperor's illegitimate son. He said Martin had last been seen living as a priest in Kvatch. Then it came: "You must find Martin!"

I snapped back angrily, "No I mustn't! The only reason I am here is because the Emperor and Baurus asked me to deliver this amulet. Both those men were kind and courteous to me. You are neither of those things. You're the boss of the Blades, so send one of them." I planted my hands on my hips and added, "You're not the boss of me!" With that, I walked straight out the door, mounted Superian and continued to Chorrol.

Sitting by the pond, I watched the beautiful cascading water for awhile longer. I leaned over to fill my water bag, and stared at the reflection. My hair was still down, so I pulled it back to see better. I frowned at my big ears. Normally, I tried to hide them a little by pulling my hair back over them into a pony tail. I giggled as I thought that they looked like Superian's ears, and made silly faces at my reflection. And so the beautiful afternoon continued, until the sun nestled into the branches of the trees. I then set up my camp and gathered some firewood.

I hated to see the day I had enjoyed in this place end. I giggled again, "Ok Buffy, that's enough time playing naked wood nymph." I tied back my hair and pulled on a hunters outfit and leather boots, then shouldered my quiver. Grabbing my bow, I set off on foot, hunting for dinner.

Two hours later I was back, sitting in front of a cheerfully crackling campfire. I savored the smell of venison cooking with fresh herbs, and the calming sounds of the falls. The clear sky was full of sparkling stars, and light from Masser and Secunda reflected off Superian's glossy black coat. My bedroll was waiting next to the fire.

I could sense that even Acadian had enjoyed our day here. The hardships of my recent travels had been washed away.

I reached for my map.

Unbowed (well, at least outwardly) and Unbossed is our Buffy. Yes, our bard of the bowgirls understands young female minds quite well..

I WONDER if our own Acadian had not fallen in love with a Buffy early in life...or if he has a Buffy like daughter...

Hmm, given the title, I suspect a lot of guys (and a few of us girls) are going to start carrying lakes and waterfalls around with us...

"You're not the boss of me!"

This has always been one of my favorite Buffy lines! I am so glad you kept it.

This was a busy chapter, recapping events of both the Bruma and Chorrol MG quests and Buffy telling off Jauffre. Tying it all together with Buffy relaxing by the lake was a good touch. It not only brings us up to speed on events, but also gives us a nice little moment to rest with Buffy. I would not have thought to weave them all together in such a fashion.

After a while the fetch and carry nature of the MG recommendations does become tiresome. The Anvil one is the most interesting, imho, and I am guessing you are saving it for last

I'll keep it simple. Fantastic

Once again I enjoyed Buffy's encounter with Grandmaster Jauffre. It's always interesting to see everyone's interpretation of this particular character - yours ranks up there with 'Friar Jauffre!'

The summary of the Bruma recommendation was fun, too, and I liked how Buffy, though blonde, was actually smarter and more clued in than a certain inept Breton mage. (So much for racial advantages, huh?) Her words about Bruma made me smile (and even laugh here and there). Chorrol is so much more pleasant for someone like her. Me (and Julian) - well, we tend to find beauty in nature where ever we go, be it wintry mountains (like the Wrangells), wild coasts, even swamps. It's civilization that tends to be ugly. Oh well.

I especially liked the title of this piece - water makes her clothes fall off!

Lol. This is my second time reading this and it's still pretty funny how Buffy just says to Jaufree, "You have blades, so go do something with them!"

I've always wondered why he relied on an escaped prisoner when he has highly trained elites.

Buffy, you make the rest of us feel like amateurs... Bully...

I like how you handled the chorrol quest, focusing on the only interesting bit after the event is refreshing because whoever designed the quest should be shot. You moved things forward naturally and quickly to another interesting point. And the characterisation in relaxing is a good touch, I continue to be impressed at how well you weld the game and fanfic together.

Telling Jauffre where to go was very Buffy, somehow I suspect she'll find herself in Kvatch in not so long though... As for the map marker - I'm guessing Azura's shrine - it has me intregued.

Where do I start with this one? My fav chapter so far!

The character development is simply oozing out of this chapter. Earana (welcome back my dear.... ), naked swimming elves, Superian learning to adjust to magic, Buffy's view on the recommendation quests and the snubbing of Jauffre.

All magnificient. Especially the last one. Who does he think he is pushing around a Bravil girl??? Go Buffy!!

And this -

I really like this. It brings back all of those awesome moments of solitude that attracted me to Oblivion in the first place. The ability to have a quiet little pocket of wilderness that belonged only to you and nobody else. Your story captures this better than anyone.

I think we’ve all wanted to tell Jauffre off at one time or another! Your portrayal of Earana is interesting. I have always found her to be the nicer of the two options in that recommendation quest, Teekeeus just annoys the hell out of me! I agree with Olen, the Chorrol recommendation is by far the most annoying of the recommendation quests, and that is saying something.

At first I thought that she was going to go into Black Rock Cavern. I wanted to scream ‘NO!’ at the screen. I should have known that Buffy would have better sense than to enter strange dungeons without an enchanted weapon (When you put your head under the waterfall, Buffy, be sure to get all the dust from Viverin out! ).

Chapter 8 found Buffy in Chorrol, having just completed her fifth University recommendation, and earning a dangerous enemy in the process. She spent most of the day relaxing by a beautiful set of waterfalls as she reflected on her recent journeys through Bruma, Weynon Priory and Chorrol.

Foxy- Thank you, my friend. Yes, there is indeed a very real ghost that animates Buffy.

SubRosa- She truly can't resist a swim at every waterfall she finds. I must agree that 'You're not the boss of me!' is very Buffy - It was quite refreshing to hear her say it to someone besides me. Yes, a busy chapter - two cities and elements of three quests! More ground than we would cover nowadays in one chapter, but I am glad it worked with only minor editing. Thank you as always for the warm support.

enclave private - Thank you so much for dropping in. It is wonderful to have you reading. Please stop by for a goblet of Tamika's anytime.

Rider- Buffy's reaction to Jauffre was completely different than any other character I have had encounter him. I think it was the big strong guy trying to send a scrawny elf off to do his bidding that really did it. My prior characters were all strong guys who never took exception to that. Buffy taught me very quickly how it feels to be small and vulnerable. Thank you!

DarkZerker- Yes, when that escaped prisoner is a little teenaged elf, it seems even less likely that she would be asked to go save the Empire. Thanks so much!

Zalphon- I'm humbled by your kind words. Thank you. I hope you enjoy your pending camping trip.

Olen- Thank you. The challenge here was preserving the massive amount of ground covered in the original version of this chapter without expanding it into multiple chapters. It took some creative transitions and flashbacks, but I think it worked well. There are some chapters ahead that will require expanding into more than one.

That pesky Acadian does sometimes put blue marks on Buffy's map. Sometimes she follows them. The following chapter quickly reveals her next destination.

Wolf- Thank you so much. I must admit that I liked the Chorrol chapter very much for the same reasons you mentioned. If someone were to ask 'who is Buffy?' this is one of a few chapters I would recommend to answer that question. I am so pleased at your reaction. It will take awhile, but we will see Earana again. Buffy does not make idle threats, and she assumes that Earana does not either.

Destri- Thank you. I agree that the choice between Teekius and Earana is not easy or clear cut. In Buffy's case, it was largely a young girl's loyalty to her guild. She has seen bad examples in the guild (Falcar), but she has also seen the best the guild has to offer in her very own guild head, Kud-Ei.



"Hail citizen. Where are you bound?" The question was a friendly greeting from the approaching Imperial Legion rider.

"I'm trying to make my way to Skingrad," I nervously responded as our horses pulled abreast and stopped. My experience with the Legion so far had been painful. I was almost eye to eye with the iron clad soldier. His veteran bay gelding ignored Superian's youthful inquisitiveness. "Can you offer any advice for my journey?" I asked hopefully.

The rider leaned closer. "By the Nine Divines, if you've got to travel, stay on the roads. The wilderness just isn't safe anymore. We've had sightings you see, the Daedra." Concern in his calm authoritative voice gave me pause. I had seen drawings of Daedra in books and knew that some mages could summon them, but I had never actually seen one for real. The Imperial's weathered features reflected the hardships of a lifetime of service to the Legion, yet there was also kindness in his steel blue eyes. He didn't appear to be in a hurry. In fact he seemed quite willing to pause along his patrol route to talk for a bit. "Let me see your map."

I opened my map so we could both see. "Here." Placing my finger on our present position along the Black Road near Chorrol, I dragged it south to the blue mark at Skingrad.

"No," his face clouded as he shook his head, "stay on the roads." With a heavy gauntleted finger, he then traced a route east along the Black Road, south using the Red Ring Road and finally southwest to Skingrad along the Gold Road. "It'll take longer, but it's safer. And remember, if you run into trouble, come find me, or one of the Legion."

"Thank you." I smiled, then added truthfully, "I'm glad I ran into you."

He leisurely tapped two fingers to a spot on his helm above his right eye as if in friendly salute and smiled back broadly. "We're here to serve, citizen." With two clicks to the bay gelding, he slowly continued towards Chorrol.

I turned in the saddle and watched him for a few moments. I recalled that another soldier had knocked me unconscious with an ease akin to swatting a fly. That was the trip with City Swimmer that landed me in the Imperial Prison. I reluctantly had to admit though, the soldier in that case really was just doing his job. City Swimmer and I were the ones that broke the law. I decided to take the advice and put my map away. Superian and I continued riding along the Black Road towards the Imperial City.

As a gray stone fort loomed into view along the road ahead, I saw a Khajiit running towards us. He did not have a weapon in his hand and I thought he might be in trouble or running from an animal. I drew Superian to a stop and began to get nervous as the Khajiit got closer. I could see he was wearing a fur cuirass, and from over one shoulder protruded a handle that I assumed was attached to a large weapon.

"Give me your gold." His tone was cruel, as yellow eyes hungrily sized me up. I could clearly see the huge axe on his back now as he stood by my left knee. My mind raced as I conjured all sorts of horrible images, and I wasn't sure at all that surrendering my gold would end his demands. My most precious possession was between my legs after all. I mean, Superian could fetch a price that far exceeded all the gold I carried.

"I warn you, I'm prepared to defend myself." I hoped my attempt to back him down sounded more confident than I felt.

A toothy grin slowly formed, preceding his reply. "This one likes it that way." His hands started up towards the handle of that giant two-handed axe.

Superian sensed my intent. In the blink of an eye, she had whirled us around and we were off. I heard a forceful thud behind us that must have been the Khajiit's axe as the blade hit the ground, probably just missing my mare's flank. In less than a minute, we stopped.

I turned in the saddle, straining my senses. I could hear Superian breathing, birds chirping and a breeze rustling in the branches above, but no sign of pursuit.

With my heart in my throat, I jumped to the ground and carefully inspected Superian's hindquarters. I then closed my eyes and whispered, "Thank you Mara." But for her incredible quickness, the mare could have been mortally wounded. The giant axe must have been slow to equip and swing, and I was sure that had worked to our favor.

My thoughts turned to the Khajiit. He had looked initially like a traveler in need of help. I had been ready to offer him assistance! The shudder that ran through me as I imagined how close his axe must have come to Superian's haunch yielded to rage.

On foot, I made my way back towards that fort, moving carefully among bushes for cover. The Khajiit was just standing by the side of the road. I bet he simply ducked out of sight whenever the Legion patrols came by, then came back out to rob wood elves like me.

I slid the grummite bow from my back with a grim determination.

The poison was a simple one, but it would do the job. If the highwayman who swung his axe at my precious horse died slowly and painfully, so much the better.

I nocked the arrow, partially drew my bowstring and leisurely aimed. It was a pretty long shot. I savored the sight picture of the Khajiit as I moved the arrow's broad head tip slightly up and down above the target, fine tuning my aim point. Head shots were too easy to miss, although deadly. Chest shots were what I normally tried for, as they were lethal but easier. This however, would be a belly shot. Hopefully it would not kill him right away.

The next actions were really a single fluid motion, developed from years of hunting. I took in a normal breath, released about half and paused breathing. Drawing the bowstring smoothly to full tension, I loosed the arrow.

The Khajiit jerked involuntarily and cried out as my arrow slammed into his gut. His body was quickly flooded by poison.

I was still undetected and could have easily stopped his pain with a second arrow. I would have done so for any wild animal. Instead, I watched him wrestle with the pain of trying to remove the deeply imbedded arrow from his belly. "I hope it hurts," I whispered.

The image that briefly popped into my head would have been amusing under less deadly circumstances. A bow-equipped mouse toying with a cat. Within a few more seconds his body went limp and collapsed. I shouldered my bow.

After backtracking until Superian came into view, I cast a spell asking her to come to me. She willingly did so at a run, and I buried my face in her long black mane, savoring her smell. We rode to the dead Khajiit. From the saddle, I looked down at the highwayman who had accosted his last wood elf. I didn't mind the satisfaction of killing someone who deserved it, but this was different. The rage I felt as I imagined him swinging his axe at Superian. . . . I had taken cruel pleasure in killing this Khajiit slowly. I mean, I had the skill, but is this what I wanted to use it for? I didn't understand my feelings at all.

The sun was now flirting with the treetops to my west. I slid to the ground, unsheathed my knife and pulled out a repair hammer. My mind was active as I worked. We had spent much of the day going up and down a fairly short stretch of the Black Road. I needed to figure out a better way to travel. I needed to figure out a lot of things.

Rising to my feet, I could see that the road passed right through Fort Ash. I led Superian into the circular open ruins for the night. After removing her tack and doing some grooming, I fished into her saddlebags for some carrots to augment the soft grass near the walls of the fort.

Clambering up to a stone overhang above her, I then set up camp.

I inspected and counted arrows, including the one I had cut from the belly of the Khajiit. After cleaning it up, I noted with both guilt and satisfaction, that it was still useable.

The grummite bow was serving me well, and I was thankful that Daenlin had switched me from linen to silk bowstrings. The silk ones didn't stretch, even when wet, and therefore didn't need to be waxed or spend as much time unstrung. They also lasted longer. The only drawback to the silk, besides cost of course, was that it was harder on my fingers. I recalled that the ladies of my guild in Bravil all had beautifully soft hands. Well, except for Kud-Ei of course; hers were kind of scaly. I frowned as I looked at my own. The bowstring fingers of my right hand looked like small versions of Daenlin's - marred by heavy calluses.

The light of my campfire now bounced off the old walls of the ruined fort. It felt comfortable and safe up on this ledge under the stars.

Laying out my bedroll, I set the bow and quiver next to it, then pulled some dinner from my pack. I took a long pull on my water bag, confident that I could top it up tomorrow as we intercepted the Red Ring Road near Lake Rumare.

Sitting there munching bread and cheese, I realized that traveling by horse was a mixed blessing. Superian was a wonderful companion and we were getting very close. I smiled, as it occurred that between her and Acadian, I was never lonely. We could also cover ground quickly together, and her amazing speed allowed us to outrun any foe. Yet at times like today, we were quite vulnerable.

Trying to shoot from horseback with a longbow was so cumbersome as to be completely ineffective. Equally frustrating was that I could no more cast a spell astride Superian than while sitting in a chair. Spell casting involved channeling magical energy through the entire body in a fairly precise stance. Being threatened on horseback therefore, meant either running away or dismounting to fight.

While removing my Arena raiment, I unhappily remembered I still lacked the skill to repair it. I was already practicing on everything I could find - even the dings in that highwayman's axe and the hole from my own arrow in his cuirass. Of course, I had just thrown them on the ground after repairing them.

Finally, I crawled into the waiting bedroll, my mind still swirling over the events of the day.

The title for this always makes me think of the Immortals of Persia, who were taught from childhood to ride, use the bow, and speak nothing but the truth.

Here is an important chapter, as it illustrates a very important facet of Buffy's character. We see an example of the Buffy Doctrine in action when she goes back to kill the bandit. We also see her very natural anger over Superian's close call with the bandit's axe. Combined with her ability with a bow and growing confidence in its use, the end result was one dead bandit. Cuddly as a rattlesnake. Yet at the same time we see her guilt over her bloodlust, showing us that she is not a sociopath.

Excellent descriptions of bow use here, as we have come to expect from our paladin. Likewise with the observations on her bowstrings.

Also good hints for playing the game, such as repairing things you do not plan to keep just to get your skill up (reaching that 50 in Armorer is always my first priority, so I can fix magic items. I always make an effort to get 5 points of training in it each level until I do).

Finally a good rationale given for why she cannot cast spells from horseback. Honestly the biggest reason I never use horses in the game is because you cannot do anything on them. If you could fight and cast spells, almost all my characters would go mounted. Hopefully they will include that in ESV.

I'm with Buffy there - anyone who abuses an animal in my presence will suffer horribly . . . IMHO death is too easy for such people (same goes for sexual predators, but that's another story).

I agree with your comment regarding Kud-Ei - she is someone that Julian clicks very well with in her own story, for much the same reasons that you regard her as the best of the best in the Mages Guild.

I loved Buffy's musings here - it was great to see her character emerge further, and reach a new level of maturity as she considers the risks not only to herself, but also to her Superian.

And by the Nine, stay on the roads! But beware of Greenmead and Grayrock Caves! Julian has learned to stop Paint well before those caves and clear the road on foot.

A beautiful chapter all around. Loved it!

That chapter had some great lines in it. And some good character advancement. She certainly showed a vicious edge there, in fact bordering on a bit psycopathic...

[quote]The sun was now flirting with the treetops to my west[/quote]and[quoteA bow-equipped mouse toying with a cat[/quote]
Are great images, the 'cat' particularly takes a common phrase and subverts it somewhat in the ES world.

[quote]confident that I could top it up tomorrow[/quote]
This makes me wonder where characters are meant to drink from... There's not many streams which look that suitable. Nice merging of reality into a 'gamey' story there.

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!

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.



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.

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.


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.

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?

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

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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’.

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.

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.



"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.

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!

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.

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!

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

Later: "You look like a mage"

XD

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!!!

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.

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?

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.



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.