Good chapter! Ungarion redeemed himself a bit at the end. He may have risked his life there simply revealing the sale.

"Needless to say, I would be most interested in purchasing the stone from you for a very hefty sum should you succeed. I presume you are prepared for the Daedra that surely defend the approach to the sigil stone?"

I nodded grimly.

When Buffy does not deliver an animated, lengthy reply, the subject is serious indeed.

The tournament has brought together so many fascinating characters, I love it!

Oops! Sorry--I've gone back and started at the beginning of Buffy's story, and I posted in the first thread before seeing your notice at the end of that thread! Anyway, I have so far enjoyed reading it, and from now on I will post my comments here. Please...forgive me!

I just finished the last two chapters. Lum’s complaints about the Bravil chapter head and a certain red-headed wood elf brought more than a faint smile. And Nordinor’s ‘completely legitimate illegal activities’ must keep the Count pretty well lubricated. I doubt that he could keep himself out of the dungeons otherwise.

Ungarion’s assessment of Buffy’s circle of acquaintance was a brilliant introduction to Buffy’s code for those unfamiliar with it. She may not think of herself as such, but being a ‘Child of Dawn’ it doesn’t stretch credulity that Sheogorath would extend such an invitation to her. Destiny and desire seem to be moving in parallel, and both are steering Buffy toward that gate in Kvatch.

I have done some thinking about the possessor of this Drain Marksman scroll since I read this chapter before. I think Ungarion’s reaction to the idea of revealing the name of the buyer, especially after his quid pro quo session with Buffy (whom he knows he can trust not to reveal his name), gives us a tantalizing hint at the buyer’s identity. I can venture a guess right now . . . it will be interesting to see if I am right.

Buffy spent Episode 93 in an evening of conversation with Ungarion. He provided more information about sigil stones and Oblivion Gates. In return, she shared some of her limited knowledge of the Shivering Isles. Finally, Ungarion confessed he recently sold a potent scroll that had the potential to sabotage the Tournament of Archers.

mALX- Thank you! And I love your enthusiastic support! It was encouragement from you and others during 1.0 that helped the tourney grow into such a massive endeavor.

SubRosa- Aww, thank you for the kind words on our April screenie in the rain! I have always liked Ungarion and it was great to bring him back, as we haven't seen him since Episode 29. Heh, breaking her bank to buy that beautiful black cuirass will weave in and out of several upcoming episodes until Buffy can refill her coin purse. Buffy is certainly a child of Bravil, with much of the survival-required baggage that comes with that. Yes, a 'whodunnit', or perhaps a 'who'lldoit'! The mystery will be a minor distracter for about 17 more episodes before it gets resolved. Thanks for rescuing poor Ilend's name for me!

Rider- Thanks for your support of our attempt to weave a small mystery into the tourney. Thanks also for helping Buffy keep her counsel; my old fingers are too used to typing Council of Mages. I'm so glad you mentioned my inferred references to Sinderion and Nerussa - I'm relieved that I was not too obscure.

TK- I am touched by your concern for Buffy's welfare and note that you express an interpretation and prognosis that is dark indeed. Let me offer an alternate perspective (based on an adapted version of a story told by Ronald Reagan) that may serve you better in predicting Buffy's future:

Buffy had a dream when she was seven. She and her friend Ardaline were locked in a room full of horse manure. Even though she was Buffy's senior by several years, Ardaline became despondent and began to cry. Buffy started happily tossing manure into the air as she sang a little song to cheer up her friend. The Altmer wiped her tears and stared incredulously. "Buffy, what in Mara's name are you doing?"

Up to her hips in manure and with both hands full of the stuff, the tiny elf paused with a grin. She then chirped in response, "It's obvious, silly! With all this horse poo, I just know there's got to be a pony in here. C'mon, help me look! Someday I'm going to have a horse of my own. She'll be a beautiful black one and faster than anything in Cyrodiil!"

I confess it is my intent that fully understanding Buffy remain as elusive as capturing a thunderstorm. Let me recommend reading with a touch of optimism though, and perhaps even a degree of trust in an underlying nature where those she loves and those who mean her harm forge perhaps the strongest currents.

For example, this is some of what I got from the previous episode: Buffy is willing to put her life where her mouth is regarding the gate at Kvatch - for a man she believes has the heart of a lion. She remains profoundly ashamed of the tragedy she caused at Borderwatch and has nothing but loathing for Sheo. Not surprisingly, she did not agree to the merchant's open offer to supply him with trinkets from the SI - she has bigger Daedra to fry. Her concern about the errant scroll is driven by her love for Daenlin.

Be at ease, my friend. Buffy is likely to survive her path to Kvatch and beyond. Ironically it will be because of the overall tapestry of her choices - not in spite of them.

King Coin- I'm so glad you see the slightly buried humanity (elfinity) in Ungarion. Business is business, but he does have a heart and recognizes Buffy and Daenlin as friends worthy of some self-risk. Thank you!

Grits- Ooh! What a neat observation that the chatterbox gets quieter when things get more grim/serious. The revelation here of Buffy assuming her plan to close an Oblivion Gate would cost her life is why I was so moved when I realized that Jerric went into the Kvatch gate with the same assumption. I'm so glad you're enjoying the tournament!

Lady Syl- Please don't apologize! I am so delighted to have you reading our story! As you catch up, I so hope you will pop in and grace us with your impressions. Thank you!

Destri- It was so much fun to reference the wonderful Fighters Guild and larger than life characters that SubRosa has created. Thank you for connecting the dots on the disparate circles in Bravil that Buffy comfortably moves within; it makes sense for an orphan raised by the city who has learned how to survive and even flourish.

On the scroll caper, I hope you enjoy our fun little attempt at a subplot with a touch of mystery. It must be simple enough that a blond bowgirl can help solve it in her spare time. On the other hand, my brilliant colleague in collaboration (with the faint smiling elf) provided some assistance with some of the details; so that implies a couple twists or turns. Looking ahead, my recommendation is to hold your cards until I post episode 103. By then, we'll have a full lineup and some good clues. Then I'll revitalize bobg's old contest and invite PMs with guesses as to who intends to do dirty with the scroll.

All- And so ends the first day of qualifications for the Tournament. Buffy and Daenlin have already each shot their qualification round. As will be detailed in this next episode, hopeful shooters have two more days to attempt to qualify for the actual day of competition. Buffy will be an extremely busy bowgirl, and pulled in many directions as we now join her early on the second day of qualifications. In fact, this day alone will require fully ten episodes for her to share it with you. We are on track to announce the winner of the Tournament around Episode 112.



"Buffy, you look terrible," the old elf teased with a sparkle in his eye. "Drink too much last night?"

"Thanks Daenlin, just what a girl likes to hear in the morning." I frowned as I plopped onto the bench next to the Bosmer and leaned into him for warmth against the cool dawn. "I didn't sleep very well." I had been up late making potions and trying to conjure a course of action to investigate who Ungarion may have sold that worrisome drain marksman scroll to. Somebody dangerous and violent, it seemed. Oh well, I would deal with that later. So much for a relaxing time in Bravil. I sighed.

Daenlin placed an arm around me. "Pre-tournament nerves keeping you awake, I expect. Don't worry, you'll do fine."

"Thanks." I managed a smile as I pulled some fruit and cheese from my pack to share. I also drank down a soothing potion to combat fatigue. "I'm sure that's all it is," I lied. Looking around the tournament area, there were a dozen or so archers either inspecting arrows or milling about. They were waiting for the judges to declare enough light to begin shooting. "Well, it's day two of qualifications. Are we still in the running?"

"We are," Daenlin declared. "I was talking with the judges earlier. In fact we still hold the top two spots. Say Buffy, I noticed posters all over town this morning. In fact there's one by the judging area. Now that there's a hint of light, would you be a sweet elf and go see what it says?"

"Of course, Master." I stood, feeling better after the potion, and walked the short distance to the red and white striped judge's tent. Attached to a wooden sign that had been planted in the ground, was a parchment bearing the stag symbol of the city above some official looking writing:

To all who shall see these presents, greeting.

Know ye that Count Regulus Terentius, welcomes you to the fair waterside city of Bravil, and publishes the following information, that ye may more fully enjoy the Tournament of Archers.

There shall be a three day qualification period, from the Thirty First of Hearthfire to the Second of Frostfall. During the qualification period, desirous contenders shall each shoot one round. For this tournament, a round comprises three flights of three arrows each. The first flight is medium range, slow-fire. The second flight is medium range, rapid-fire. The third flight is long range, slow-fire. On the Third of Frostfall the top ten archers will appear before the judges, and each shoot three rounds.

So shall be chosen the Champion Archer of Cyrodiil.

"Oh, it's just information we already know about the tournament, but it's good for spectators and visitors," I said to Daenlin as I snuggled back into my warm spot next to him. "I took a look at the shooters while I was up there. My friend Lum gro-Baroth was right. There are several Fighters Guild types in queue to qualify this morning."

"Yes," said Daenlin. "Quite a few of the guild is out here to cheer them on it seems."

Now that the potion had more fully opened my eyes and there was a promise of sun on the horizon, I looked around and nodded.

"They certainly have some camaraderie," continued Daenlin. "On the way out here this morning, I saw them all ceremoniously kissing the Lucky Old Lady and joking about."

I giggled at the image of big strong fighters kissing the stone statue. They were certainly here supporting their contingent of archers, teasing and laughing with each other. I couldn't help but remember that none of my own guild had come out to see me shoot for qualification. I smiled though, as I pulled Daenlin's arm back around me and leaned into all the archery support I could ever want.

It had never occurred to me to join the Fighters Guild instead of the Mages Guild; besides, I had come to love magic almost as much as my precious bow. Nevertheless, I envied their abilities. Many of them could fight with heavy armor and swords - something I figured I could never learn. I didn't even know that the Fighters Guild accepted archers until I met Parwen. I was pleased to see that she had traveled here from Skingrad to compete.

"Buffy, I've heard of the gro-Baroth brothers and recognize Parwen from previous tournaments, but do you know who that slender red head is?" asked Daenlin as he pointed to the group of fighters.

The Bosmer wore full leathers. Her flour-white skin contrasted sharply with her brilliant locks, which I suspected were dyed. The distinctive color looked right for her, and probably resulted from using a paste made from the leaves of henna plants. The young face was rather angular and displayed a somber expression. In fact, she did not look to be quick with a smile. It was the red hair though that triggered a memory from the day before. "No, Daenlin, but she fits the description of a new fighter in the Bravil chapter that Lum mentioned yesterday."

Our conversation was cut short as the judges began briefing the hopeful shooters. As the first archer stepped up to attempt qualification, I noticed that Nordinor and Aradroth had arrived. They were seated together. Aradroth was pointing at the archers and talking, while Nordinor busily applied a quill to the book on his lap.

"Well, if it isn't the current champion and his diminutive protégé."

The sarcastic voice came from a high elf standing before us. Daenlin looked up and replied, "Good day, Honditar. I hope you had a safe trip from Chorrol. Competing this year?"

"Winning is more like it," the prematurely gray Altmer sniffed. "I expect the two of you will need to combine your scores to match what I will shoot when I qualify tomorrow. And you, little girl, did you ever take my advice on using poison to help kill deer?"

I cocked my head as I tried to make sense of his math. The Altmer from Chorrol fancied himself a mountain man. "Well, I've somehow managed to subdue the beasts withou-"

"You know," Honditar interrupted as he examined his fingernails, "the Chorrol city guard still suspects me of pulling off the amazing shot that killed that vicious mage, Earana, by the Great Oak some time ago. They have no evidence to back it up of course, for a true mountain man would leave no trace of his passing."

Daenlin chuckled. "I'm sure you're right, Honditar. Such evidence would certainly be dust in the wind, given your gift of hot air."

The Altmer's haughty look changed to an indignant sneer, "Just wait, you little tree-hugger. Your reign of dominating these tournaments is coming to an end." Honditar then stormed off.

Daenlin and I smiled and shook our heads at each other. The exchange with the Altmer brought back a twinge of guilt, laced with satisfaction. I had called it preemptive self-defense, but the Dark Brotherhood called my elimination of Earana murder. Why was Honditar so cocky about the tournament? Did he have plans to-

"Here comes the first of the fighters." Daenlin nudged me. "Now watch, and provide me your assessments, my apprentice."

As Lum gro-Baroth shot, I noticed the rippling muscles of his bare back and shoulders. He had the strength to hold full tension on his bowstring for several seconds - long enough to carefully aim. He therefore skipped the step of aiming with partial tension. I was amazed. What an advantage that was, and it really showed during his rapid-fire flight. His long range shooting was only fair.

"Lots of strength, decent talent and well-practiced," I offered.

Daenlin nodded.

Kurz gro-Baroth stepped up. The armor-clad orc used the same style as his brother, but did not have the control to shoot tight groups of three. One of his arrows even missed the long range target completely.

I shook my head. "Same strength and style, but I expect he lacks his brother's devotion to practice. Lum says that Kurz spends more time in the taverns than on the range."

"Yes," agreed Daenlin, "talent without hard work will not hit the target."

The red head stepped up next. That would simply not do, calling her 'the red head'. I needed to check the registry and find out her name. Her bow was a simple one, of yew wood. The hand grip appeared to be iron, as did the protective ear caps on both ends of the staff. While shooting a pretty good first flight, she displayed solid natural ability and focus, albeit without the smoothness that comes from many years of daily practice. I was impressed to see her achieve a trio of tens during rapid-fire, but then perplexed to see her fall apart somewhat at longer range with the slow-fire.

I looked at Daenlin, mystified. "Um, good natural talent. She looks very focused, but why is she so much better at rapid than slow fire?"

"She's shooting intuitively, Buffy. Given her overall performance, I expect she doesn't even realize it. No doubt, she envisions a connection between her and the target and responds without thinking." Daenlin chuckled and continued, "On the slower fire, she thinks too much. It looks like she's only been shooting a few years, yet already displays some very impressive skill. With a good instructor who understands, and continued dedication to the bow, she will no doubt become a superb archer." Daenlin pointed toward the range. "Here comes Parwen."

The sun had risen enough that its light gently danced off the steel rings of Parwen's well-filled mail hauberk as she moved. Her style was consistent and flawless, no doubt resulting from decades of devoted practice. If her large breasts interfered with her shooting, it certainly didn't show. I found it odd that her accuracy, while respectable, did not match the perfection of her style. I recalled her remark to me that she was a better teacher than archer. I now recognized what she meant.

When Parwen finished, I turned to Daenlin and said tentatively, "She knows her stuff and works really hard. I mean, her form is classically perfect. It seems almost tragic that perhaps she simply lacks a high degree of natural ability. Perhaps her gifts are better used for teaching?"

Daenlin nodded. "Yes, a bit sad actually. She has always worked hard, and is testimony to how very far one can go with effort. Parwen is a fine archer but, alas, I fear she will never be a master. Greatness requires one to have both a high degree of natural talent and a truly passionate devotion to the bow," he then playfully tapped me on the nose and added, "like you, my apprentice."

* From Buffy's scrapbook: Screenshot

The discussion of the different styles and talents is very interesting, and rings true. I know it's true of horsemanship, of the graphic arts, even of writing.

All the training in the world doesn't matter if you don't have the passion for it. Both passion and training can make up somewhat for the lack of talent, but not entirely. Pure talent alone is wonderful, but needs passion and the focus of training to really shine.

This chapter is a wonderful introduction to the Fighters Guild lineup. I'm looking forward to the introduction of our other fine Bosmer archer, Alawen, and seeing how her style differs from the others.

And how delightful that Buffy's thoughts can travel so quickly from worry over that damned scroll to evaluating the strengths and weaknesses of her competitors. Though it's not clear if she sees this as such, that is exactly what she is doing. Whether or not she takes advantage of the knowledge remains to be seen, but I don't doubt that she will.

this day alone will require fully ten episodes
I see you are competing with Desti to write the longest day!

trying to conjure a course of action
Once more, I loved this phrase.

I pulled Daenlin's arm back around me and leaned into all the archery support I could ever want.
Awww. Again, I loved this as much the second time around as well.

his diminutive protégé.
This is new! I love the reference to Buffy's lack of stature!

given your gift of hot air
Point and match for Daenlin!

More broth for the mystery stew here, as Honditar storms off. Could he be the one looking to knock Daenlin from his lofty perch as champion?

A wonderful description of archery here as well. One thing many people do not realize is the strength of the bows needed for warfare. Unlike normal bows used today (and I mean the self bows, not compound bows), it took a great deal of strength to pull one to full extension. A (human) archer could not keep such a bow at full tension for very long. They had to fire very quickly. Hence the reason for "double-pumping" their shots, aiming with it half-way back, then drawing it all the way and immediately releasing. Pointing out the distinct advantage that the strength an orc possesses was an excellent way of putting an ES spin on this.

And finally "the red head" appears once more! Who is that girl?


nits:
The exchange with the Altmer brought back a twinge of guilt, lace with satisfaction.
I think you missed the "d" in laced?

She looks very focused, but why is she so much better at rapid than slow fire?
Look at this, and see if you might want a comma where I inserted it above?

I enjoyed the comments about the other archers. It's a treat to see familiar faces from other stories. I wonder what the assessment Buffy would have for my fighter? Great chapter as usual!

WOO HOO! I know who the beautiful redhead is !!! Someone who is going to choke Pappy for entering her without her knowledge !!! AWESOME WRITE !!!!

Obviously the photographer from the Black Horse Courier knew who the redhead was, as he's titled her picture!

Re Parwen: the Amazons solved the "getting in the way" problem surgically. I prefer her method of just protecting with chainmail.

A lot of character coming out in the contestants in just the way they shoot (or shoot off their mouth).

Chapter 3--It was excellent. I liked several things about it, and I will try to remember them all....

I love that she thought about selling the Amulet--that was classic. I mean, who wouldn't have thought of that, at least just for a moment?

Your wit--I love it. When Buffy went into Copius Coinpurse, her thoughts after reading the inscription on the counter was great.

The whole part where she met Simplicia--I liked all of it, and the line Buffy used, that she knew more about killing men rather than sleeping with them--that was good. And I also liked the background you sort of hinted at with the sweet old beggar woman.

The Arena--I loved everything about it. The way you described how Buffy felt as she walked up the ramp, knowing she might die...I could almost feel what she was feeling--I've done the arena many times, but the prospect of dying was never that big a deal because I could always just load a past save. But in this scene, for the first time, I felt that trepidation, that uneasiness, that goes along with knowing that it would end with either you or your opponent dead. And then when she saw he was Bosmer, you made him a real flesh and blood person, and even then I could feel that...concern about killing another person. And when she wondered about him afterward--did he have a family, did he have dreams? That regret, because she had taken that away from him, though she knew he had made that choice just as she had. The arena sequence was my favorite part of this scene, but I liked all of it. Excellent.

It is no wonder that you have inspired so many with Buffy’s story, Acadian. There are so many moments to love about this chapter that is difficult to single out any one thing! The impact of Daenlin’s illiteracy hit me like a bracing slap, but it was handled with such a light touch that it almost passes notice. That is incredibly good writing and is one of the hallmarks of your style. The exchange with Honditar was terrific. Is there something in the wells of Chorrol that makes every Altmer living there such a blowhard?

I will say this on both Buffy and Teresa’s threads: It is a glowing testament to both writers that we as readers simply don’t care about the cavernous conflict in the time-lines of these two realities. For Teresa the Oblivion Crisis is over, but Buffy is still pondering her impending foray in to the Gate at Kvatch!

This is not a nit per say, either word is grammatically correct. I submit this simply because it nagged at me a little:

Ceremonial vs. Ceremonious

My understanding of it is that Ceremonial(ly) usually implies the performance of an actual ceremony, as in ceremonial dance, or ceremonial offering. Ceremonious(ly) often describes behavior which, while formal, doesn’t usually involve actual ceremony, like ceremonious speech or a ceremonious welcome. I’m not sure which context you intended, but it seems to me that if the Fighters Guild members were joking around then the adherence to an actual ceremony is a little far-fetched. Ceremoniously might be the better word. Am I wrong?

WOO HOO! I know who the beautiful redhead is !!! Someone who is going to choke Pappy for entering her without her knowledge !!! AWESOME WRITE !!!!





for entering her without her knowledge !!!





....was she asleep or in a trance...

Well, Honditar certainly is a snooty one. Holding to the Altmer prejudice quite well, if I may say so.

It was a very nice touch to see Teresa lose her luster at the end of the tournament simply by trying too hard. Nobody is perfect, not even Buffy, who seems determined to only ever be second to her Master (given she deliberately came up one point short in the first qualifier).

Problem is, I don't want Buffy to be nothing more than the Queen of Second Salstrice. I want her to go all the way and show the world what she can do! You have no reason to not do your best, Buffy, so give it your all! Daenlin will never think less of you for besting him, in fact, given his compassion for you, you will only make him prouder by doing so.

Go for it Buffy! Don't hold back! You deserve to win this one (so much more than that fetcher Honditar)!

Episode 94 opened the second day of tournament qualifications. We learned that a day of final of competition among the top ten qualifiers will occur after the three day qualification period concludes. Daenlin and Buffy shared their observations as numerous archers attempted qualification. Notable among these were the four archers comprising this year's Fighters Guild contingent.

Rider- Thank you for drawing out the interface between passion, talent and hard work/training that we tried to weave in here. I'm glad you enjoyed the FG lineup. I'm also delighted to report that we'll see quite a bit of Alawen's character and shooting style ahead. We can see already that Buffy is gradually being pulled deeper into the 'silly tournament' than she intended.

SubRosa- Longest day indeed; Buffy will be running until after midnight, and the next episode only moves her early morning forward by less than an hour. Thank you for those kind words about some of our phrasing. I confess the relationship between Buffy and Daenlin warms my heart as well. And yes, Honditar emerges as a suspect in the bubbling scroll caper! Like many of us, I draw heavily from the teachings of our own Foxy regarding the bow; it was fun to sneak in the rather un-TES like effect of strength. Foxy taught us that willowy little wood elves would make for poor archers. Of course when you tell a girl she can't do something, you know what happens. Right, Teresa? Thanks for those nits so I could fix them!

King Coin- Thank you! Aravi is very much a combat archer; her footwork, ability to dodge incoming arrows/spells and willingness to take foes head on, all exceed Buffy's.

mALX- Thanks! What an honor indeed to present the faintly smiling elf that we all love so much! Despite good intentions to check the tourney registry for her name, Buffy will get distracted (no surprise there). In fact it won't be until the following morning that Buffy is able to assign a proper name to 'the red head'.

ghastley- Thank you! Buffy was curious about Parwen; after all, as much as Buffy the blond Bravilian Bosmeri bowgirl loves alliteration, busty is not something we can sneak into her descriptive string. Parwen seems to get by, although the idea of seeing Hidy Heidi trying to shoot a bow sounds dangerous.

Lady Syl- Thank you so much! What a nostalgic delight to hear your impressions and insights as you catch up! I so hope we can continue to earn your readership. Once Buffy gets into the University, you will see her approach become much less linear, as she expands/modifies quests, invents her own and follows her own agenda. Like Teresa, Buffy is not of sturdy enough stuff to ever become the Champion of Cyrodiil. She has a small role to play in the Oblivion Crisis but, like anything 'noble' that Buffy does, it is motivated by strong affection.

Destri- You ascribe excess credit to this humble writer, my friend. My intent with Daenlin asking Buffy to go read the sign was to display the comfortably intimate grandfather / granddaughter nature of their long relationship. Daenlin is comfortable enough to ask Buffy to 'fetch his slippers', and Buffy adores Daenlin enough that she is honored to do so. Similarly, Buffy correctly presumes that Daenlin will always hold her chair for her before they share a dinner.

Your comments regarding the gentle and temporary overlap between TF and BF are so appreciated. It is Rider and treydog that taught us all that Tamriel is a magical place, where friendships and events can be shared regardless of time/distance and even event considerations. Indeed, the worlds of Teresa and Buffy contrast in many ways, ranging from the status of the Oblivion Crisis, to the smaller scales of distance and population seen in BF, to the strong roman influence seen in the Imperial Legion of TF. Yet, for a precious time, I am both excited honored to see the two worlds lightly interweave.

I concur with and appreciate your wise suggestion to use ceremoniously in the case cited.

Foxy- I suspect Teresa is way too smart for that. After all, I mean it's not like she's a blonde.

TK- Your advice for Buffy to 'go for it' and 'don't hold back' warms my heart, for it is exactly the reaction I was hoping for. Yes, Buffy's view of the tourney is completely 'Daenlin-centric'. Despite how close they are, she indeed badly misjudges what the old master would hope and expect from his precious protégé. We know Buffy is ready willing and able to pull shots to help her master because she has shared that with us. I would submit that intentionally easing an arrow into the nine or eight ring at long range, when done by a skilled archer like Buffy, is not easy to detect. Harder still perhaps for a master who wishfully assumes his pupil wants simply to shoot her best. Therefore, I am not surprised that Daenlin may not yet fully realize Buffy's intent. Her misguided thinking on this will likely get even more muddled. I hope the old master can teach Buffy the most important lesson of all - how to fully unfurl her wings.



Through eyes half closed against the wind I could see the pink blur that appeared at the fringe of my range. It was large and streaking toward us. Sensing my thoughts, Superian quickly pulled us back from our intoxicating thunder and speed. Within the span of a few heartbeats, the Black Horse Courier drew to an abrupt stop beside us.

"Hail, Buffy." The mist of heavy breathing from the two horses swirled together, producing an eerie fog in the cool morning air. The owner of the soft Breton accent continued, "How fares my sister of the black horse?" As she dragged a sleeve across her face to remove some dust, I could recognize her. The stallion, despite being tired, was agitated. He stretched his neck toward Superian, snorted and blew through flaring nostrils at her.

"Good morning, Surani. What news do you carry?" Superian was stamping her front hooves on the road. I did not try to dissuade her as she pranced sideways, several paces away from the stallion and turned her head away from him.

"The current edition of the Courier has several articles in it about the tournament." The Breton backed her mount away slightly, and worked to settle him with limited success. "Things in Leyawiin are quiet as they normally are when the Countess is visiting her mother in Chorrol. Oh, and I have a package for you." A small hand slipped into the saddlebag behind her and produced a parcel half the size of a fist. She lightly tossed it to me and said, "Well, pleasant journeys. We must be off now." The black horse snorted again and sprang forward, quickly opening the distance between us. His trailing hoofbeats rapidly disappeared north toward Bravil.

Fumbling the package open with an impatient curiosity, I found a ring bearing the raised image of a rearing white horse. It was set into an oval background of jade, and looked very much like a tiny version of the Leyawiin shield. The ring had been wrapped in a piece of parchment that bore the firm strokes of a quill.

My Pal Dame Buffie,

The Count is real happy with all the black bows I keep bringing him. He gave me a couple rings, one for each of us. I had that smart Arhgoni Arghony lizerd fellow who is the smith make my ring big and yours little. I hope it fits good and you like it.

The Count says I been doing real good. I even talked him into offering his bounty on black bows to them fellows in the Fighters Guild, since that Blackwood outfit is steeling some of their contraks. If the guild does a good job, I might even be able to get some time off.

Oh, some orc showed up at the Lodge today with a letter from you and asking to be a knight. I'm gonna get the sparring blades out and see if he can fight, then maybe let him tag along next time I go get me some black bows. He looks pretty sturdy, but I'll let you know.

Good luck at Kavotch.

Your fellow Knight Erroniant, Sir Mazoga

The small ring, signifying a position of nobility, slid perfectly onto my finger. I looked at it through moist eyes for several moments, then whispered, "You were right when you told me not all women can be as beautiful as you, Sir Mazoga. Good luck with Agronak."

My knighthood, and its resultant title as a minor noble, had thus far caused no problems. I attributed much of that to my simple demeanor, small stature and manner of dress. Thankfully, the Court of Bravil seemed to take no notice or interest. Gladius Maro had transmitted my wishes to the city guard that I be treated no differently than before my dubbing. My close friends were comfortable enough to either ignore the title or tease me about it in good cheer. I was actually pleased when my guild mates joked that I looked no more like a knight than a mage. Yet, the title had served me well in garnering some assistance for Kvatch. As with many things, there was a time and a place. I removed the court ring and slipped it into my jewelry pouch. Finally, Superian sensed my readiness to move on and we continued south.

Daenlin and I had watched almost a dozen hopefuls, including the Fighters Guild contingent, shoot for qualification earlier that morning. I then threaded my way through the early bustle and chatter of merchants busily setting up their wares for the day. Once I arrived at the stables, Antoine had helped me saddle Superian.

Although exercising the mare was my main purpose on the Green Road, I had fresh vegetables in my pack as a welcoming gift for Alawen. The ranger from Anvil was alone at Bawnwatch Camp and I figured, being far from home, she might appreciate a visitor.

My thoughts kept searching for the troublesome drain marksman scroll that Ungarion had loosed into Bravil. Why did he so fear the purchaser? Gradually, ideas of how to investigate were forming. No doubt, answers could be found under the dark side of Bravil - literally. There were those who might know something, but they preferred the shadows of night.

As Superian and I approached the wooden bridge to Bawnwatch Island, I noted a pair of large trees that had each been adorned with a linen archery target. The centers of both targets were shredded.

We started across the sturdy bridge. I could see a recently installed tripwire that was currently lowered to the surface of the heavy planks - no doubt a warning device for use when sleeping. "Hail, ranger," I called loudly. As the Bosmer rose from the far side of a small tent, I saw her fluidly equip a bow and nock an arrow. I quickly added, "It's Buffy from Bravil. We met yesterday."

The Bosmer set down her weaponry and approached empty handed. "Good morning, young elf. You are welcome here." Although addressing me, her hazel eyes were on Superian. She held out both hands, palms up, as the mare lowered her head to investigate. I noticed that two fingers on Alawen's right hand bore the same heavy bowstring callusing as my own. Superian accepted the ranger's calm manner and the two touched foreheads. Alawen said soothingly, "You are built for speed. Well-mannered, but a one-elf horse."

"Superian is all of that," I replied for the mare. "I'm surprised she accepts you so readily. I trust her judgment though, and it speaks highly for you, ranger."

"As her fine condition and spirit speak of you. The bond between Superian and her elf is strong." She then lifted her eyes to meet mine and added somewhat awkwardly, "Forgive me, Buffy. I live in the wild and most of my friends are animals. I am afraid I pay the price by lacking social grace. Please graze your mare." She glanced beyond Superian and I toward the mainland. "I just finished shooting on yon targets and was making some tea. Will you join me?"

"I'd like that, Alawen." I slid to the ground. Superian glanced at the ranger's white mare on the far end of the small island, then lowered her head to graze.

* From Buffy's scrapbook: Screenshot

WOO HOO! Some all new material wedged into the familiar here !!! Buffy and Alawen's meeting before the tourney is one of my fave scenes, can't wait for the next chapter!! Awesome Write !!! WOO HOO !!!

I knew instantly it was Mazoga lol

That's so kind of Buffy to meet Alawen! I wonder what they will discuss?

Aravi has stayed at Bawnwatch before, now there is an excavation there I think.

And so we segue into yet another Bravilian quest.

I do have a nit about the horses' behavior. Is Superian rejecting the stallion's advances? If so, she wouldn't turn away from him. To do so would only invite him to proceed further. Instead, she would snake her head at him and bite, even strike in his direction with a forefoot. She would also squeal warningly with her ears flat against her neck. All of this is done facing the stallion. In that situation, he would clearly understand that she isn't interested!

Back to the story. I loved Mazoga's letter. It fits her personality so well. And her attitude regarding Agronak is wonderful! He's got some 'splaining to do before he can prove himself to her. Wise girl won't fall for the first handsome face that comes her way. Attagirl!

He stretched his neck toward Superian, snorted and blew through flaring nostrils at her.
"Hey babycakes, wanna dance?"

Superian was stamping her front hooves on the road.
"Lay one hoof on me and you'll be pulling back a stump!"

Yay for Sir Mazoga! I see you wove in several new points to her letter. Touching on the woes of the Fighters Guild due to their new rivals. Having them help Mazoga is simply brilliant! Every knight needs their squires after all (hint, hint, Buffy...). Then Agronak turning up was quite delightful to see.

I looked no more like a knight than a mage
QFT!

I noticed that two fingers on Alawen's right hand bore the same heavy bowstring callusing as my own.
Another excellent touch of realism.

A delightful episode as always. So it is off to Bawnwatch Camp, and some girl-time with Alawen. I am looking forward to seeing what sort of mischief those two Bosmer Bowgirls get themselves up to!

Chapter 4--I loved the whole thing with Buffy going to the Shivering Isles and getting that grummite bow. Any chance she has or will return to the Isles some day?

Buffy is such an interesting character, and I love following her story. You seem to have good knowledge of archery, and I like that Buffy is an archer--I think I'll be picking up a few tips to use for Syl, because she does do some archery, along with the other forms of combat.

I like that she has such a close-knit family in Bravil. I never cared much for that city, but the way you portray it, Bravil seems nice and cozy, and I find myself wanting to go there more... And Nilawen, by the way, has always been one of my favorite shopkeepers! I'm glad she is one of Buffy's close friends.

Can I just say how brilliant your portrayal of Mazoga is. You really bring her to life, and I loved her 'erroniant' misspelings of 'Argonian' in that letter!

In Episode 95, Buffy encountered a Black Horse Courier rider who gave the bowgirl a package. Wrapped inside a letter from Sir Mazoga, Buffy found a Leyawiin Court ring. Mazoga said she was being treated well and that her efforts against the Black Bow Bandits were now augmented by the local Fighters Guild. She also confirmed that Agronak had reported to her - seeking knighthood. Buffy and Superian then continued south to deliver a campwarming gift of fresh vegetables to Alawen at Bawnwatch Camp. The ranger welcomed Buffy and tendered an invitation to share morning tea.

mALX- Thanks for noticing some of the new details and gossip in Mazoga's letter. I'm really pleased that you are looking forward to more of Alawen, as we'll see quite a bit of her during the tourney.

King Coin- I'm glad that Mazoga's style jumped so quickly and identifiably to you! Buffy has a pretty strong nurturing streak that prompted her visit to the lonely camp of the ranger.

Rider- I took the opportunity to review all the Alawen episodes from 1.0 and the comments/responses over at the Bethesda forum. I was delighted to see many wonderful things, including your enthusiastic endorsement of the Forlorn Watchman quest when Buffy first directed Alawen to Bawnwatch Camp. At the time I did not intend to pursue the quest, but because of your enthusiastic comment way back then, we added it to Buffy's dance card. It remains in 2.0 and I thank you for it. Thank you also for the kind words about Mazoga's letter. I so hope Agronak proves to be a worthy champion. Buffy the busybody matchmaker will be following them closely.

SubRosa- Hee! Thanks for providing such wonderful subtitles for Superian in case there was any doubt regarding her feelings toward the stallion. Had she in the mood for romance, I'm sure she would have batted her eyelids, smiled coyly and licked the big fellow on the nose. Yay for Mazoga indeed! Simultaneously helping the FG while bolstering her own black bow efforts. And Agronak! After Mazoga checks out his sword skills, she just might have an appropriate nightly knightly consort! Who could ever say orcs are dumb? Those bowstring calluses do indeed imply that Alawen is one serious archer. Some Bosmer bowgirl talk and mischief coming up during the next few episodes.

Lady Syl- Thank you for those kind words about one of our early episodes! That ugly but mighty grummite bow will serve Buffy for all of Book 1. We have no plans right now for her to return to the SI for more than possibly a shopping trip to Passwall. That is why it is so fascinating to see the SI from Syl's point of view! Daenlin early recognized Buffy's passion for bows and how she eschewed any attempt at using a dagger or other melee weapon as a backup. He wisely encouraged her to seek the illusion skills of Kud-Ei to survive. I'm so glad you agree with Buffy that some of the wonderful residents of Bravil are like family to the orphan.

Ceidwad- I'm so glad you're enjoying our Mazoga! She'll continue to be a major character in Buffy's world. It was certainly great fun to toss out the editing book briefly and help Mazoga write that letter to her pal.



"I found Anvil to be quite beautiful when I visited there for one of my University recommendations." I offered the conversation starter as I sat by the softly crackling fire at Bawnwatch Camp. "How do you like living there?"

"It is where I belong," Alawen replied as she used a damaged arrow to transfer her kettle from the fire. "Golden grasses that dance in the salt-laden breezes, the sun slipping nightly into the Abecean Sea. . . ." An almost dreamy look on the Bosmer's face emphasized her love for the coastal city. "I have lived there all my life. In fact, I was born in the Anvil Chapel. We stayed there under the protection of Dibella until I was five. Mother then found work as the Countess' ranger for the Gold Coast, and we moved to Troll Candle Camp which remains my home." Alawen passed me a simple wooden cup filled with steaming tea. "What of you and Bravil, Buffy?"

"Born and raised there," I declared. "I-I know it doesn't match the beauty of Anvil or The Gold Coast, but I love the river. It runs right through the middle of my city. I also find myself very at home in these surrounding forests. I was orphaned by the age of twelve and the city raised me, so I know lots of people there who feel like family."

"I am sorry to hear of your loss, and at such a young age." Alawen's look was soft and caring. The elf was quite pretty when she smiled. "I have not traveled enough to be familiar with your city. I have heard of it though."

I was mildly embarrassed. My love for Bravil was genuine, but I knew what people from other places thought about it. Imagining the things Alawen had heard, I changed the subject. "Who taught you to shoot?" I jerked a thumb over my shoulder toward the ranger's targets.

"Mother. She was the finest archer that you could imagine. I was only eight when she started teaching me with a small bow she made. Since then, I have shot every day of my life. It is who I am." She blinked her hazel eyes a couple times, then watched the moist vapors rise from the cup cradled between her hands. "For the last several years, I have occasionally offered training to marksmen who seek me out. I like sharing what Mother taught me." Looking up from her tea, she continued, "The extra gold, along with a small salary the Countess pays me, helps keep my quiver filled. It also goes toward the meager supplies I need from the dockside general store." She looked directly at me. "And you? For one so young, you have the eyes of a trained marksman."

I chuckled. "I started shooting when I was eight with a small bow just like you. My archery master, Daenlin, made it for me. I understand when you say it's who you are."

"I see in your eyes and face that you do," said Alawen. "This Daenlin must be a fine master."

"Oh yes," I gushed, "he's like the father I never knew. Well, maybe more like a grandfather, but yes he's a great archer." I added proudly, "He's the champion of the last seven tournaments." I lowered my voice, even as I realized neither the trees nor Superian would tell my secrets. "As much as I love my bow, I just can't get very excited about shooting it for some contest. I'm only really competing to support my master."

"I know exactly what you mean." Alawen returned my smile and nodded knowingly. "I have never competed before and am only here now because I was so asked by Lady Anvil. She has always been kind to me, so I am happy to oblige. Countess Millona - that is what she likes me to call her - asked that I shoot my best, and I shall."

Alawen's confident manner then faded, and she seemed hesitant. "I am sorry, but my lack of worldliness is why the name of your master, Daenlin, is unfamiliar to me." Looking into her cup, she continued self-consciously, "In fact, living the way I do, I am unfamiliar with many things. I don't talk with people very often and. . . am quite afraid to be around groups of them." She stirred some life into the diminishing campfire with an arrow. "I am more comfortable with animals."

I could sense the ranger wanted to talk, yet she was tentative about doing so. "You sound very close to your mother, but speak as if she is gone?" I prompted gently.

"Mother was my best friend. She was killed about six years ago. Marauders." Alawen averted her eyes from my gaze and reached behind her for another piece of firewood, as if to terminate that part of the conversation. "I had another friend, a Breton girl about your age named Sarrah. She and her sister used to visit. I showed them my ability to calm animals; they both somehow learned to use magic to do the same. We all had great fun riding bears and tickling wolves. Sarrah died a few years ago." The ranger looked at me with moist eyes and managed a smile. "Her younger sister, Angel, still visits me."

"I'm very sorry Alawen." It was my turn to stare awkwardly at the freshly stoked flames that held no answers. I regretted my question, which now seemed like insensitive prying. My heart ached that I obviously had opened deep wounds. I reached into my pack, searching to brighten the mood. "I know there is plenty of fish, crab and game out here, but I thought you might enjoy some fresh vegetables."

"I am grateful for your thoughtfulness," said Alawen as she rose and placed my potatoes, carrots and onions into a food bag that she lowered from among the overhead branches. After hoisting the provisions up into the tree, she then rejoined me by the fire, and picked up her cup. "Buffy, do you think that. . . um, never mind." The ranger rolled her upper lip between her teeth and looked out across the Niben. The river now sparkled brilliantly as it reflected the morning sun.

I was struck by the dichotomy of ranger and child that I saw in Alawen.

Looking around her camp, I could see that she had set things up in a manner that reflected her mastery of life outdoors. The wood elf exuded wisdom and confidence in matters of bows, animals and life in the wilderness. She was the ranger for a whole county and probably twice my age. The fact that she had safely traveled here all the way from Anvil was testimony to her ability to deal with beasts, bandits and worse.

On the other hand, her manner could quickly melt into the awkwardness of a child - especially regarding matters of civilization. Even her formal manner of speaking reflected her limited dealings with men and mer. Yet, like Superian, I found myself readily liking and accepting her. As she continued to gaze across the river, I said, "Alawen, I can see something is troubling you." After a moment I gently added, "I'm a good listener if you want to tell me what it is."

She returned her eyes to mine, still childlike. "Buffy, some people think I am crazy because I live in the wilds and talk to lions, wolves and bears. When I go into town for supplies or to report to Countess Millona, humans and even some elves point at me. Sometimes I hear their whispered comments of 'touched' or 'odd'." Alawen frowned, perhaps searching for words. She then exhaled loudly, as if making a decision, and looked anxiously at me. "Would you think me crazy if I told you I saw a ghostly spirit last night? The translucent image of a man staring across the river?"

Her words jolted me like me the stray bolts of shock experienced if standing near Delphine Jend when she unleashed a storm of lightning. How could I have been so stupid as to not warn Alawen about the Forlorn Watchman? Was it not enough that I had clumsily asked about her dead mother? Now the elf thought that seeing a spirit meant she was crazy. I was the cause for this and it was my turn to feel like a child. The last thing on Nirn I wanted was for Alawen to believe I intentionally didn't tell her. Concern gripped me as I imagined the ranger thinking my failure to warn her had been an attempt to scare a competitor away from the tournament. Choose your words carefully, Buffy, so you don't muck things up even worse.

Deciding that the truth was best and simplest, I took a deep breath and let it out. "Alawen, you're not crazy, and your self-doubts over this are my fault."

"Go on," she replied, cocking her head and looking bewildered.

"I knew about the spirit, or at least the rumor of one. I've hunted this area many times, but never used Bawnwatch for more than a day camp. I've never been here at night to see him." I could feel the warmth rising above the top of my blouse, no doubt reddening my face as I quickly continued, "I-I didn't believe the rumors but, still, I should have thought to warn you. My reckless oversight has caused you unnecessary concern." I paused for a breath and looked hopefully at her. "Can you forgive me?"

"Calm yourself, Buffy, no forgiveness is required." The child in Alawen had yielded both face and manner back to the wise ranger. She also appeared relieved, perhaps over my endorsement of her sanity. "I see a young elf who offered assistance and directions to a stranger yesterday. The same elf who so thoughtfully brought provisions today and graces my campfire with her warm company."

"Thanks for not being angry, Alawen. I'm still sorry I didn't think to tell you. Some of the townsfolk call him the Forlorn Watchman." I smiled. "Now tell me about what happened, and perhaps we can 'unrumor' this spirit."

From 94, I especially enjoyed the discussion about the orcish archers, since they are so different from the Bosmeri that we usually see. The whole discussion between Buffy and Daenlin was informative as well as entertaining. I loved seeing Teresa through Buffy’s eyes!

From 95, it made me smile when Sir Mazoga mentioned tagging along while she gets her some black bows.

And from 96, Alawen’s discomfort in crowds sounds like it could be a real problem for her in the tournament. I loved to see Alawen and Buffy get past the awkward moment, those little shared experiences can build a friendship. I’m looking forward to them ‘unrumoring’ the spirit, in part because of moonlight on the Niben.

Oh, what a delightful chapter to read on this lovely, cool, sunny, breezy spring day! (Remember, I'm in Northern Illinois, and right now it's 43 degrees and still warming up). The RL buds forming here are the perfect complement to this chapter.

I loved how you juxtapose the woman and the child in Alawen. She is a lovely woman in her heart and soul, and you've done well capturing that part of her personality.

And how nice to hear about Sarrah and Angel. I have never read Sarrah's story, but I remember Angel's fondly.

Just a couple of nits - they jumped out at me on the first read-through but were very difficult to find on the second go around!
I think your finger didn't quite make it up to the 't' key here!

And I had to re-read the latter part of the post several times before I found the second nit: Didn't you mean her gaze?

Thank you for reminding me that spring is here! County Bravil always reminds me of the Upper Midwest in late spring/early summer. And I am soooo looking forward to the two women playing ghost whisperers!

I have shot every day of my life.
And that is the discipline it takes to be a competent archer, and why the Welsh Longbowmen eventually vanished from English service. Early firearms were slower and much less accurate than a longbow. But you could teach a peasant to use one in just a few weeks. Archers take a lifetime to create.

I see Teresa is not alone in her ambivalent feelings toward shooting in the tourney. Not only Buffy, but also Alawen would rather be doing other things. I love how all three are in the tourney for the sake a mentor figure.

Hearing more about Alawen was bittersweet. She has certainly had many ups and downs in her life. As haute said, she is so adorably sweet. The person who captures her heart, if any ever do, will be lucky indeed.

Likewise the references to Angel and Sarrah were both welcome, and sad.

After hoisting the provisions up into the tree
I liked this little touch of realism. As the people who left their food in the car at Clingman's Dome found, you have to be careful about where you put in when you are in the wilderness. My brother once went camping with some friends, and after they burned a hamburger in their fire, just tossed the charred patty back in the bushes. Later that night a pack of wolves paid a visit...

I could feel the warmth rising above the top of my blouse, no doubt reddening my face as I quickly continued
This was an excellent example of not only showing rather than telling, but also firmly staying in the pov of the charcter. Naturally Buffy would not see if her face was red. She could only feel it, and imagine.

If there's something strange
in your neighborhood
Who ya gonna call?
Buffy and Alawen!

If there's something weird
and it don't look good
Who ya gonna call?
Buffy and Alawen!

Good chapter! Buffy is so thoughtful to Alawen. I'm anticipating the resolution of the Forlorn Watchman quest.

A most enjoyable cuppa with Ayla Alawen. Those two are natural together, just like peas and carrots. I am loving every second they spend together.

"Buffy, some people think I am crazy because I live in the wilds and talk to lions, wolves and bears."

Hark now, do I hear Ursus, Wolf and Baby nearby? Better keep your Beast Tongue handy, Buffy (though if she is all she says she is, you might not need it).

I see Buffy is planning to help a ghost find some rest, too. I wish her luck, and hope Alawen will be there to keep her company. I do so want to see more of those two together.

I absoloutly LOVE this chapter. I enjoyed the conversation between Buffy and Alawen, and seeing as Alawen doesn't say a whole lot in the game, it's incredible the amount of personality you give such a solitary NPC.

Amazing.

Humans and even some elves point at me and say, "touched" or "odd."

I like that line

Alawen's sweet nature and Buffy's inner thoughts/reactions make this chapter !!! I'm pretty sure I told you this the first time I read this chapter - that food in the tree is used here in BFE ET all the time to keep the Black Bears out of your stuff. If you lock the food in your car they will literally break into it and get it out (see vid I posted on SubRosa's thread, lol). You tie it in a tree well away from your campsite but within sight range so you will see if a bear is drawn to it and can get the H out of Dodge while the bear is in the tree chowing down, lol.

Great Write !!!

In addition to fulfilling your intent, I think you have unwittingly added some real depth to Daenlin. I urge you to explore this aspect of Daenlin's character. Perhaps reading was not high on his list of skills to acquire in his past life as woodsman and adventurer. You could use that as a completion of the circle between the two when Daenlin seeks Buffy's aid (or maybe she insists) in teaching him to read. An elf with Daenlin's pride would naturally solicit aid in this regard from one he trusts the most.

Sorry. I just think that it holds a wealth of possibility.

Chapter 94:

Mazoga's letter was just fantastic! You perfectly captured the awkwardness that occurs whenever she engages in the affairs of a 'courtly' knight. Her thoughtfulness in having the ring sized for Buffy gives real weight to her salutation in the letter. I think that when Mazoga calls someone a pal, she really means it!

Chapter 95:


So now we know that Buffy is at least an expert with her bow. Nicely done!


I wonder if there's any way to convince Angel to visit the rest of us here at Chorrol.

Alawen's reticence is as understandable as it is endearing. Is it any wonder that she is one of my favorite NPCs?

You bring Alawen to life, she has a character! In my games I only met her once and by the time I'd dug up an elven bow she had tackled one too many Daedra at that gate down by the water. (In my other games she apparently had tackled the Daedra long before I met her. I should maybe play a game from west to east instead of taking so long to get to Anvil.)

Edit: tackled not tacked.

UOP makes Alawen essential until you meet her and start the training quest. It's usually the bandits that get her, rather than Daedra. Their equipment scales as you progress, but she's stuck with the leather and Silver bow all through the game, so they out-gun her quite early on. I make a point of clearing the area when I start that training quest, and as long as I return every three days they'll stay dead.

I'm looking forward to finding out how the Buffy/Alawen story works out.

Buffy and Alawen enjoyed morning tea at Bawnwatch Camp during Episode 96. Our bowgirl was struck by the dichotomy of ranger and child she saw in the other elven archer. Their conversation eventually turned to the Forlorn Watchman and a decision to investigate.

Grits- I'm so glad you're enjoyed the commentary of Daenlin and Buffy regarding the other competitors and, of course, getting to watch dear Teresa shoot was such a treat for us! I also loved reminding us of Buffy's friendship and matchmaking attempts regarding Mazoga. Thank you for honing right in on the competition implications of Alawen's fear of crowds.

Rider- Thank you so much for the endorsement of Alawen's paradox of woman and child. I'm glad that you northern folks are finally getting to enjoy some lovely spring weather! Long ago, bobg graced me with unfettered license regarding his inspirational characters; they do not play a major role, but I do intend to keep Angel and the precious memory of Sarrah alive via BF. Thanks for the nits so I could fix/clarify them.

SubRosa- Thank you for the endorsement of how long it takes to train an archer. I like your observation that Teresa, Alawen and Buffy are all competing on behalf of someone they care about; it speaks well to the nature of all three of them. I appreciate your kind words about Sarrah and Angel, as well as Alawen and her woodsy wisdom. You humble me with your words about Buffy staying strictly in her limited first person point of view (pov), for I consider you quite the master when it comes to pov. Buffy's limited pov restricts expansive mystery because we only learn what she sees; yet, paradoxically, that same limitation enhances a desirable touch of fog for exactly the same reason. Oh, your poem reminds me that Buffy recently encountered a wandering minstrel at the tourney grounds strumming his lute:

There was a lass with flaming red hair,
who in her travels healed a grizzly bear.
With a smile ever so faint,
she saved Mara's living saint,
and even Button the mare.

King Coin- Thank you! I hope you enjoy Alawen and Buffy as they attempt to resolve the Forlorn Watchman.

TK- Alawen + Buffy = peas + carrots. What a delightful compliment! Since they both seem to have unpredictable strains of wisdom and childishness, here's hoping they both don't go 'little girl' at the same time!

Rihanae- Thank you. Alawen started as a logical choice to compete in the tournament. Once Buffy met her though, the ranger's personality really blossomed. I'm so glad that, through Buffy's eyes, we get to see it!

Zalphon- Thanks! Yes, Alawen is a true creature of the wilds and would surely be oddly received by city folk.

mALX- I'm so glad Buffy's inner thoughts and self-doubts rang effective for you. She is beginning to see in Alawen, what Superian instantly knew upon meeting the ranger. Thanks also for your endorsement of Alawen's food bag in a tree!

Destri- Much food for thought about Daenlin - thank you. Realizing that you are acquainted with Sir Rugrat, your endorsement of the orcish letter Buffy received from Mazoga is a powerful compliment indeed! I was delighted to learn during BF 1.0 that Alawen is one of your favorite NPCs. I so hope you will enjoy the major role she plays in the tournament.

MyCat- Thank you for the kind words regarding Alawen's personality. We just make her essential via the command console if the crown over her head ever changes.

ghastley- I agree with and thank you for the concise description of Alawen's somewhat complex and changing in-game mortality. Yep, UOP is a good thing for PC users! I'm delighted that you're anticipating more Buffy/Alawen.



Alawen signaled a stop along the west bank of the Niben, well south of Bawnwatch Camp. "I followed the spirit here last night," she said over her shoulder to me.

As Superian pulled alongside the ranger's white mare, I scanned for life signs around nearby Fort Irony. The distinctive glow of a solitary mud crab almost two hundred feet farther south along the river's bank was no threat. I removed my rings to better read the ranger's face without the distracting pink aura that surrounded all of us.

Alawen continued, "This is where he stopped and talked to me. He said his name was Grantham Blakely and mentioned something about being stuck in the mouth of a panther? He bore no wounds from tooth or claw, and I found no scat or track of a big cat in the area." She frowned. "Do you see now why I questioned my sanity?"

With one hand on my thigh, I leaned against the pommel of Superian's saddle with the other and looked at Alawen. "Can you think of anything else? What did he do after he talked to you?"

"He turned and pointed across the river. The pose he struck was like that of a lookout I might see stationed at the bow of a ship coming into Anvil Harbor. Buffy, does any of this make sense?"

My eyes were drawn toward the far shore and I mused, "Maybe he wasn't referring to a big cat at all. Directly across from us, the Panther River flows into the Niben - the mouth of the panther?" Scratching my head, I continued, "There's nothing over there except a bunch of old-" my eyes flew open wide at the flash of realization- "shipwrecks!"

"A sailor and his ship!" we both exclaimed together.

"Yes!" Alawen continued excitedly, "he was a sailor and his spirit must be trapped on a ship over there and I am not crazy!"

I smiled, at the brief reappearance of her girlish manner. "So now what, ranger?"

"Buffy, I know this is not my jurisdiction, but that sailor asked for my assistance and he shall have it. I am indebted to you for helping to make sense of this. May a gentle breeze and the kiss of sunshine accompany you and Superian as you journey back to Bravil."

I did indeed have things to do in town. Potions needed to be converted into gold so I could pay Nilawen for my supplies. I hoped to watch a few more archers shoot on this second day of tournament qualification. The drain marksman scroll that Ungarion sold to some mysterious buyer still weighed heavily on my mind.

I looked at the wide Niben, knowing there were no nearby fords or bridges. The sun, still on the east side of the river, told me it was barely mid morning. I figured there was nothing I could learn about the scroll until after dark and, well, the other stuff would just have to wait.

"Alawen, I'm no ranger, but I'm a pretty good scout and I know this area well. Since I feel responsible for getting you into this, will you accept my assistance?"

"I would welcome your help," she held up one hand as if to cut off any premature reply and added firmly, "as long as you understand that I am in charge."

Her words triggered the memory of getting an 'I'm in charge here' lecture from Savlian Matius. I nodded and replied, "I understand."

"I welcome your skills and local knowledge then," she said. "Do you know a way across the river? I fear by the time our horses could swim it, we might be quite some ways downstream."

"Are you familiar with magic that lets you travel across the surface of water?" I asked.

"The properties of nature's bounty are well-familiar to me, Buffy. I carry potions, made from tiger lily and grapes, that allow water walking. Do you suggest leaving the horses here then?"

"No," I replied, "I can cast spells that will allow them to come with us."

"I remember my disorientation when I first stepped upon the water just a few years ago." Alawen's eyes seemed to travel to a faraway place and her skeptical expression suddenly blossomed into a youthful smile. "Before long though, Sarrah, Angel and I were standing atop the waves of the Abecean, riding them into shore, screeching and laughing. . . ." The child and her smile both gradually faded before the ranger continued, "Nevertheless, I hesitate to ask a horse to deal with that sensation."

"Superian has learned to accept and even welcome traveling atop the water. I've seen your way with animals, Alawen, and I'm sure your horse trusts you." I dropped to the ground and Superian followed me to the river's edge. "Let me help you teach her."

Alawen dismounted and led her horse to me.

"What's your mare's name?" I asked.

"Charger," replied Alawen.

I moved close enough that the mare could inspect me, as water gently lapped at everyone's boots and hooves. My spell would require laying both hands upon her. Charger nosed me and I gently rubbed her neck. I noted numerous scars on the white mare, similar to those found on many of the Imperial Legion Bays. "She's an old warhorse I see."

"She belonged to my friend. Although originally a mage, Sarrah later pursued the path of steel, accompanied by this fine animal." Alawen's eyes moistened as she continued, "After Sarrah. . . died, her sister Angel brought Charger to me, asking that I care for her." The ranger blinked several times and sighed, "Now, the old mare helps me patrol the Gold Coast."

Once Charger seemed comfortable with me, I let her watch as I bathed Superian in alteration magic. The white horse then patiently endured the same spell. Always afraid of being surprised, I fished into my jewelry pouch and returned both detect life rings to my fingers. As I added a third ring that was enchanted with water walking, Alawen upended a potion to provide the same effect. We then began our training. Encouraged by Superian's example and Alawen's gentle urging, Charger was soon willing to follow her ranger out upon the surface of the river. Satisfied, I coaxed everyone back ashore.

I beamed at Alawen. "I knew she could do it, especially with your touch. I'll need a few moments before I can cast again. When I do though, let's quickly mount and start across the river." I drank a potion to speed the restoration of magical energy and help fuel another double casting of the massive alteration spell.

Before the morning sun was noticeably higher we were galloping toward it, across the smooth expanse of water.

Where the Panther joined the Niben, we found only one wreck still intact enough to resemble a ship. We came ashore, dismounted and inspected the damaged vessel. The stern plate said 'Emma May', and a gaping hole in the starboard side of her hull helped explain how she came to be nestled in the rocks along the shore.

"Have you spent much time aboard ships?" asked Alawen.

"No." I stabbed dubiously at the rotting wood with the toe of my boot. "You?"

"Yes, my duties have required the occasional search or clearing of ships in the Port of Anvil. She will be dark inside, but hopefully there are enough holes in her old hull to be able to see. She looks abandoned and there should be no reason to fight, but we need to be ready just in case. As soon as we slip inside, we will stop to assess what we are dealing with." Alawen unshouldered her bow. The staff was of sturdy yew wood, trimmed with silver at the handgrip and ears. "Ready?"

I nodded. A soft red glow briefly adorned Slayer as the fully charged bow sought my hand.

We both crawled through an opening in the hull and lowered ourselves to the interior main deck. Before our eyes could fully adjust from bright sunshine to dim shadows, I heard a sound that could not come from man, mer nor beast.

My blood ran cold as I spun to face the wailing screech. Less than three paces away was a wraith, its ethereal arms raised in challenge.

If alone, this would have been a really good time to magically disappear and devise a plan. With Mazoga, I would have jumped behind the armor-clad orc, then supported her from a position of safety with bow and spell. Alawen wasn't Mazoga though. I could neither hide behind her nor abandon her. I desperately wanted the wraith away from us. Thoroughly flustered, I cast a demoralize spell. I realized the stupidity of my panicked response, even as the magicka left my fingertips.

The undead apparition, of course, ignored the effect. I could see a globe of energy growing between its ghostly fingers, as my own hand began to form a glow that could turn the undead. The wraith was faster though. My spell fizzled as an icy blast of magic slammed into me, forcing the air from my lungs.

A reassuring twang from behind me announced an arrow that interrupted the spirit's next attack.

After failing another frantic attempt to cast my spell, I realized the wraith had cursed my magic. I reached desperately in one of my pack's outer compartments searching for a dispel potion. The spirit was upon me now and raised a glowing hand. Once again, the snap of Alawen's bowstring heralded an arrow that caused a momentary pause. I gave up fumbling for a potion and raised my bow to block, even though I could not cast a spell to reinforce it. Slayer was nearly knocked from my hand as the spirit swept it to one side. The wraith's other hand struck my shoulder with a frigid blow of such jarring force, I was knocked from my feet.

On my back now, I brought up my knees and bow defensively as I prayed for Alawen to shoot faster. Another arrow only slightly delayed the icy hand that raked freezing tracks across the front of me and completely dislodged the bow from my chilled fingers. Alawen's next two arrows allowed only one more such numbingly cold strike. Finally, the wraith looming over me issued a mournful wail and transformed into a rain of green slime.

The ranger was instantly kneeling beside me. "Buffy, can you hear me? Talk to me!"

I was still on my back, with knees and arms drawn up in front of me and shivering uncontrollably. "C-c-cold."

Alawen pressed a pink vial against my lips and helped me drink the soothing liquid. Much of it ran down my chin to join the ectoplasm that covered me, but the shivering eased a bit.

Terrified of another attack, I was able to raise my head enough to look around us for life forces. "A-a-another," I whispered through still chattering teeth as I managed to gesture at a distant glow toward the bow of the ship. Alawen picked up Slayer from the deck and pulled me along as I crawled a short distance into the stern compartment where we would be safe for the moment.

After covering me with the pelt of a wolf, the ranger's deft fingers quickly struck steel to flint and lit a torch. She planted it between two loose bulkhead planks and swirled another potion over the flame. Within a few moments, she was helping me drink the warm liquid. I did much better with this second potion and the warmth flowed through me. Soon, the shivering stopped completely, leaving my muscles exhausted and aching.

"Welcome back," Alawen said as she gently brushed the stray hair and green goo from my face.

I managed a weak smile. "She looks abandoned and there should be no reason to fight," I said, mimicking the words Alawen had spoken before we entered the Emma May.

"I take that to mean that you feel somewhat better, young elf." She pushed two more pink vials my way. "Here, you are not done drinking yet; one for healing, another to combat fatigue."

I sipped the potions as we repaired our equipment. "They hit hard, use frost and can temporarily disable spellcasting," I said. "I think we're gonna need a plan."

"I agree," Alawen said with a nod. "Having you distract the wraiths by curling up on the deck and letting them knock the urine out of you while I shoot is not optimal."

"Oh," I said sheepishly as I glanced down, "you noticed, huh?"

"It is hard to miss if you wear deerskin greaves, Buffy. At least we know what we are dealing with now. Yes, let us discuss a plan before proceeding."

* From Buffy's scrapbook: Screenshot

Ouch! Buffy got owned by that Wraith! Good for her that Alawen was there to save the day.

We continue to see much of Buffy's personality: the way she volunteers to help Alawen, bows to her command, and of course the respect she shows Charger.

I very much enjoyed this exchange:

I sipped the potions as we repaired our equipment. "They hit hard, use frost and can temporarily disable spellcasting," I said. "I think we're gonna need a plan."

"I agree," Alawen said with a nod. "Having you distract the wraiths by curling up on the deck and letting them knock the urine out of you while I shoot is not optimal."

"Oh," I said sheepishly as I glanced down, "you noticed, huh?"

Ah, friend Acadian has decided to take over the poet's mantle from my shoulders!

I shall be away for a couple of weeks. This chapter, though, will be in my memory till then!

"Yes!" Alawen continued excitedly, "he was a sailor and his spirit must be trapped on a ship over there and I am not crazy!"
I had to double check to make sure that wasn’t Buffy talking! How charming these two are together!

What a gripping battle with the wraith! Buffy did well to even think of the dispel potion under the circumstances. She gave us such a vivid picture of what it feels like to be attacked by frost, unable to defend against it. Her courage in staying for the fight let Alawen attack the wraith unhindered while it was busy battering Buffy. And then Buffy got slimed!! Too bad ectoplasm does not come already infused with a pleasing citrus scent.

I managed a weak smile. "She looks abandoned and there should be no reason to fight," I said, mimicking the words Alawen had spoken before we entered the Emma May.
I love that Buffy’s first act upon reaching relative safety is to sass the one who’s “in charge.” There’s the dragon spirit!!

"I agree," Alawen said with a nod. "Having you distract the wraiths by curling up on the deck and letting them knock the urine out of you while I shoot is not optimal."
Oops! But it was effective. I can’t wait to see Buffy’s plan!

Loved the tidbit of Buffy training Charger to walk on water. Of course, the old mare just needed to see that it was fine before charging ahead. Likely she's seen an awful lot during her time with Sarrah and Alawen.

Mares tend to be less easily fazed by new things than the boys (stallions or geldings) anyway. Good job on capturing her personality. I'm sure Blanco would love meeting her!


This reminder of our favorite hero brought more than a faint smile to my lips!

Amazing chapter! I knew the tight confines of the ship would be hard on Buffy. That fight was great! Buffy was incapacitated almost immediately and Alawen kept cool and defeated the wraith! Aravi could have really used Alawen when she went there. She ended up running away from the wraiths.

Absolutely one of my fave chapters !!! The easy friendship between them promises to last, and I hope it does. Their interaction brings out the personalities of both, and they could be sisters by the similarities in them !!! Buffy is at her Buffyest in this chapter, and those times are always my favorites !!


This scene was so natural I just had to quote it, it was so easily visualized:




Your description of the effects of the frost spell were wonderfully done, what a great detail to enhance the story in describing everything Buffy felt from the spell, then have her summarize it for Alawen !! AWESOME WRITE !!!!!

And to top it all off, Buffy's endearing weakness, and Alawen's mention of it !!! It is so great to know that, no matter how grown up Buffy gets ... she will always be Buffy at heart !!! LOVED THIS CHAPTER !!!!

"I agree," Alawen said with a nod. "Having you distract the wraiths by curling up on the deck and letting them knock the urine out of you while I shoot is not optimal." - I'm sure this won't be Buffy's choice of tactic regardless of whether it's "optimal" or not! She's always come up with a better idea before, so I expect she'll do so again.

Oh, that was not a poem I posted, it was the lyrics to the song Ghostbusters, by Ray Parker jr. I just substituted Buffy and Alawen for the part where he says "Ghostbusters!".

Alawen shows her mettle with her insistence to help the ghost, once she realized that she was indeed not crazy. Buffy of course shows her own by accompanying her. Not to mention with her ability to cast her water walking on horses, and help acclimate them to the entire thing.

Poor Buffy! Trying so desperately to protect Alawen, she bears the brunt of the Wraith's attack and gets the pee knocked out of her! Something she was so not built for. This would have been much easier if she had been alone!

I guess that's why she's buying black armor now

Chapter 5 review

Loved the chapter title.


Men! "Acadian, if you had your way, I would sleep with full battle gear including a bow and quiver jammed into my back! Or more likely, would you have me never sleep at all? I know you worry, but that’s why I had Ita Rienus teach me how to disappear before we left Bravil. You know that every time I camp or bathe in the wilderness, I make sure I have that spell ready. That will allow the time I need to grab my bow if suddenly attacked. Now, mind your own business about what I do or do not wear!"
I like these little bits between Buffy and Acadian. They are very amusing.


I did pick up a few lightweight items that looked like they would sell for -

Buffy! Stop daydreaming.
This was an excellent way to bring us back to the present. And it also caused me to chuckle. 'Twas most unexpected.

Shocked, I managed to breathe the words, "y-you know Acadian?"

After gently pressing two fingers under my chin to close my mouth, she smiled and responded…
When I envisioned the above scene, it was a great image--Buffy's mouth gaping in shock and Dagail simply closing it like she did. Priceless!

Argh! Another moistening blunder by our wondrously playful she-elf!

That was a gripping flight. Quite tense, and I was genuinely scared for Buffy's bow. I was sure she wouldn't succumb herself (with her resolve, I don't think Buffy even knows how to die), but I was quite afraid that the wraith would snap her bow. That would have been quite heartbreaking for our Bowgirl, I'm quite sure.

Once our duo has rested up, formulated a plan, and dried off their greaves, I will be right back with them. Onwards!

Nit:

"Nevertheless,I hesitate to ask a horse to deal with that sensation."

You lost a space here.

In Episode 97, Alawen and Buffy followed clues from the Forlorn Watchman to the mouth of the Panther River and found the Emma May. Upon entering the shipwreck, the two archers were promptly attacked by a wraith. After surviving the fight, where Buffy got her butt kicked, the ranger and her scout agreed that some refinement to their plan was required.

Ceidwad- Thank you. Although way out of their comfort zone, neither archer abandoned the other in the face of a close range wraith attack. You nailed much of Buffy's personality in your kind comments.

Foxy- Ah, the legend of Button and the Bear will no doubt spread throughout Tamriel! Safe journey, my friend.

Grits- Gosh, thank you for reviewing so much of what I was trying to portray of Alawen and Buffy here through their actions. For Buffy to initially cast the wrong spell (demoralize against an undead) was such a typical response for her when caught surprised without a plan. It was a Boderi-instilled response to being silenced that caused Buffy to reach for a dispel potion. I'm so glad you enjoyed that scene and the interaction between the two ladies.

Rider- With help from the young filly and some patience, Buffy and Alawen were able to teach an old mare a new trick of walking on water! I'm so glad that mention of our hero in a headband brought a smile.

King Coin- Thank you. Yes, that was quite the harsh 'welcome aboard' for the pair of archers. By herself, Buffy would have disappeared and tried to hide!

mALX- Aww. Thank you for enjoying the interface between Alawen and Buffy. I agree that this past episode showed plenty of what they're made of (the good, the bad and the wet - lol). I'm so glad the impact of the wraith's freezing attacks came through effectively.

ghastley- Heh. I agree that Buffy makes for a very poor 'tank'. Of course, Alawen is poorly suited for that role as well, so I hope they can come up with something that works. I'm sure Buffy is wishing for a 'summon Mazoga' spell.

SubRosa- Sorry for the confusion from my last comments; I recognized your wonderful reference to the ghostbusters song, but chose my words poorly as I tried to segue from song to poem. You are so right that neither Buffy nor Alawen are built for this type of fight! I agree that without Alawen, Buffy's instinctive reaction to disappear, hide and formulate a plan would likely have kept her greaves dry. Fortunately, Buffy's insistence on not abandoning the ranger was matched by Alawen's calm and lethal volley of arrows.

MyCat- Hee! Buffy has natural tan buckskin greaves as well as those dyed gray, forest green and black. Surely one of the darker colors would have helped her hide the fluid reaction to getting beaten, frosted and slimed!

Lady Syl- Thank you for the lovely words about Buffy's Leyawiin MG recommendation quest, where she learned a little more about Acadian from Dagail. Buffy has a few 'trademarks', and getting her lower jaw gently lifted closed when agape is one of them. What a fun nostalgic trip you are giving Buffy and I with your wonderful comments as you catch up!

Thomas Kaira- Yes, a moistening blunder! I'm glad we were able to portray some of Buffy's terror during that fight. Hopefully, the duo will do better going forward. Thanks for the nit so I could fix it.



Navigating the confusing maze below the Emma May's main weather deck, we crept toward her bow. There were enough holes and cracks in the old hull that slender, dust-laden streaks of sunshine provided enough light for us to make our way. I signaled a stop, then whispered what my rings revealed. "Hidden just beyond the starboard side of that open hatch at the end of this long passageway is another wraith."

"You seem to know the terminology quite well for someone who has spent little time aboard ship." Alawen's quiet statement included a questioningly raised eyebrow.

Returning my eyes to the distant glow, I softly replied, "The University has a large library." The statement was true enough but incomplete. I figured it was simpler than trying to explain about Acadian. As Alawen and I had ground up sacred lotus seeds to create resist frost potions, the paladin had given me a silent lesson in ship terminology.

The ranger returned her attention to the shadowy passage ahead. "To approach close enough to see the wraith will surrender our range advantage. Can you do something with your magic to perhaps coax our target into a killing zone?"

Recalling my bruised butt and wet greaves, I was more than a little motivated to prove my worth to Alawen. After a moment, I smiled and nodded. "Nock your arrow."

I visualized the spell sequence I would need, then raised a glowing fist. A skeleton formed from the lavender cloud I released in front of us. Another spell caused the summon to fearfully rattle down the long passageway toward the open hatch.

As soon as the wraith wailed his interest and engaged my bony helper, I evaporated the summon by casting a new one between Alawen and I - a scamp this time. As I hoped, the disappearance of my skeleton drew the suspicious wraith into the passageway.

Alawen's first arrow elicited a screech, and was immediately followed by a quiet twang from Slayer and a fireball from the scamp. The withering fire that ensued, caused the wraith to dance and jerk until it collapsed into a puddle on the deck.

The ranger looked at me. "By Dibella, Buffy! I have never seen anything like that." She added, "This went a lot better than the first one, no?"

Feeling my self-confidence returning, I proclaimed, "There's no more life signs on this deck. Where next, ranger?"

"Well, scout," she said with a smile, "before we go slogging through this whole ship, I want to know more about her fate. Let us find the captain's cabin, and navigation room. Hopefully, there will be ship logs of some sort. Both those spaces should be near the stern."

We made our way aft until we found ourselves at the bottom of a ladder to the captain's quarters. Alawen whispered, "This will likely be a confined area. If there is a wraith inside, you will try to immobilize him with your spells, then join me in shooting as you can. If he gets too close, you back away and keep firing or casting. I will step forward with my dagger."

"Do you know how hard those things hit?" I asked. "Maybe we should keep me in that role. I can drink a shield potion before we go in and I'll have an elixir of dispel ready in case my magic gets cursed again. You don't have to be the one to get beaten up just because I didn't do so well with that first wraith." I continued, trying to keep the fear out of my voice, "I-I promise I'll do better this time if it becomes necessary."

"Do you know how to use that hunting knife strapped to your thigh, young elf?"

I glanced down, then looked at the silver handle of the short blade riding at Alawen's waist. "Only for cutting my arrows from victims or field dressing game," I said sheepishly.

"Buffy, neither one of us are front line fighters, but we are better off with me in that role if it comes to it. I have seen the power of your magic. I have also seen it taken from you. I cannot cast spells, so I do not care if a wraith tries to disable them. I am also a little bigger than you and wearing more armor. Perhaps I can better withstand being struck."

"Well, you have some good points," I admitted. "You should drink one of the potions we made then." I then looked up at the taller Bosmer and added, "Alawen, you saved my life earlier. You can count on me."

The ranger placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled warmly. "I know I can, Buffy."

"Here, take some of these too." I handed several of my shield potions to Alawen.

She nodded, then quickly drank two potions - one to resist frost and the other to strengthen her leather armor. The ranger then quietly led us up the ladder.

Another wraith announced its presence almost as soon as we entered the captain's cabin. By knowing the enemy and having a plan this time, we were ready. My spell cut the spirit's wail short as it turned in fear and cowered against a porthole. By the time I loosed an arrow, Alawen was nocking her third. Our combined fire quickly destroyed the spirit. Careful examination of the cabin revealed no clues, and we retreated down the ladder.

We continued our search until letters carved into the closed wooden hatch in front of us confirmed that we had found the navigation room.

Alawen turned to me. "Same brief, understood?"

I nodded, as the ranger drank another pair of protective potions. Both of us nocked arrows, then Alawen kicked open the hatch. Relaxing at the sight of the empty, small navigation room, we quivered our arrows and began searching through the crumbling charts and logs until we found the Emma May's last entry.

"Mutiny," spat Alawen. "They killed the captain and chained Grantham Blakely below decks. These wraiths must be spirits of the treacherous crew that ran her aground." The ranger snapped the logbook closed and tossed it on the navigation table. "What do you think, scout?"

"You're in charge, ranger, but I would hunt down and destroy this murderous crew, then find what remains of Grantham and see if we can put his spirit at ease." I smiled grimly and added, "You know, justice through vengeance."

Alawen raised one corner of her mouth and nodded. "Let us continue our search and find access to the ship's lower decks."

*

The two mutinous wraiths I detected on the Emma May's mid deck were each hunted down and magically terrorized into corners. There, they suffered our combined fire. Alawen was lethally accurate and shot faster than I, but her bow could not match the stopping power of Slayer.

I watched as she gathered some valuable ectoplasm from the second wraith. For the first time, I considered the wood elf's potential as a competitor in the tournament. When it came to rapid-fire I was the equal of Daenlin or more so, but Alawen was better than I. The hope that her long range skills were less than those of my master crept forth like tendrils of a poisonous vine. A wave of shame swept over me for allowing such thoughts.

We checked our equipment, then counted and redistributed arrows before continuing. All the way astern, we found what we sought. After raising the wooden hatch, we quietly eased ourselves down the ladder to the lowest deck. The Emma May rested somewhat stern-low and we found ourselves standing in water that approached our knees. I held up a single finger, then pointed in the direction of the only glow I detected.

As we crept forward, the water yielded to dry deck and we made our way to an open hatch. Centered in the large cargo bay before us hovered a wraith that did not detect our stealthy approach. Despite the pink haze of detect life, I could see the spirit shimmered with a dark purple aura.

Alawen gently grabbed my arm, pulled me back a few paces behind a bulkhead and whispered, "You told me that you detect them as pink glows. Can you see that this one is a different color than the others?"

I nodded and whispered, "Perhaps he's the leader."

"What do you think?" the ranger asked quietly. "We have time to plan our attack. Do you have any more magic tricks?"

A smile came to my face.

"I take that as a yes." she softly said in reply to my expression.

"I'll remove his immunity to poison, and he won't even know it until we open fire." I reached into one of my pack's three outer compartments for a green vial.

Alawen did not challenge my magical claim; rather, she simply nodded and produced her own vial of poison. She then drizzled the thick liquid over the tip of her arrow and fitted the tail to her bowstring.

After poisoning my own broadhead, I staged it in my boot sheath, keeping my right hand free for casting. We crept forward, side-by-side, until gaining unobstructed views of the wraith.

My spell had proven its deadliness in the past. The first effect would double the lethality of poisons or, in the case of undead, eliminate their immunity for several seconds. The other aspect of the spell would briefly and totally drain a victim's speed, rendering them unable to detect the caster.

"Ready?" I whispered to Alawen.

In response to her nod, a glow formed in my hand. I quickly extended my arm, and the destruction magic leaped from fingertips to target. Within a heartbeat of the spell's impact, Alawen's poisoned arrow caused the wraith to exchange his purple aura for a beautifully satisfying jade one. My first arrow struck as Alawen was loosing her second.

As I nocked my next arrow, the wraith extended its ethereal fingers toward Alawen and released a pale globe of blue magicka. The ranger dove into a right shoulder roll that did not allow her bow to touch the deck. As the icy blast passed harmlessly between us, the nimble elf was on her feet and already drawing her bowstring.

Our next arrows simultaneously struck the target, dead center. With a reassuring 'whoosh', Azura's Star claimed the wraith's energy.

"You traffic in souls?" Alawen's tone seemed curious, not judgmental.

I shook my head, remembering my University teaching. "I'm simply capturing the arcane essence that animates their movement - a form of magicka. I feed the magic to Slayer. In return, the bow keeps me alive."

"I have never had an enchanted weapon." As Alawen watched me transfer the wraith's energy to my bow she added, "I am not averse to using what remains from the fallen to survive. I shall have to think on this."

Continuing our search, we soon stood before a wooden hatch to the forward cargo compartment. The ranger drained yet another pair of pink vials then quietly burped. "Hopefully these potions will prove to be no more necessary than their predecessors."

We nodded comfortably to each other then nocked arrows in unison. As with the navigation room, Alawen kicked open the hatch.

There was no wail of greeting - only silence. After we quivered arrows and shouldered bows, I sparked a torch to life with my fingertips.

Chained to a main vertical support beam, was a body that had long ago yielded its flesh until only bones remained.

Alawen produced the key she had found in the slippery remains of the last wraith, and tried it on the skeleton's overhead shackles. With a satisfying metallic click, the lock fell open. Chains and bones clattered to the deck as a white cloud formed and slowly revealed the translucent image of a sailor.

"My name is Grantham Blakely." The tired voice was soft and sounded as if it had at one time belonged to a Breton. "I thank you for freeing me." A watery finger pointed to a space between the deck planks. "In this compartment, lay a map hidden by my treacherous shipmates. They spoke of a smuggler's treasure farther up the Panther. Claim it for yourselves now, with my gratitude." The spirit then floated upward, passing into the wood overhead and disappearing..

The ranger nodded her head. "Fair winds and following seas, Grantham Blakely." She then looked at me, and we exchanged sad smiles.

As I held my torch over the deck, Alawen easily retrieved the scroll Grantham spoke of and unrolled the parchment for us both to see.

"This treasure seems to be under the waters of the Panther River, just a small ways upstream," I said, studying the map. "It's right by a small campsite and dock used by smugglers."

"Shall we then?" The ranger's tone was lighter now, almost playful.

I was acutely aware that my blouse was soaked with green slime and my greaves were still wet from, well, you know. "I could certainly use a dunking in the river before returning to Bravil." I smiled, then added, "Oh, and my empty coin purse wouldn't mind half a treasure as well."

This chapter really highlights what teamwork is all about. Alawen's logic regarding who gets to close with dagger is sound, and only illustrates her understanding of combat and your comrade's strengths to complement your own weaknesses. In this case Alawen's lack of magical ability means that her being silenced doesn't affect the outcome of the matter, so it is better that she take on that particular risk.

Buffy using her summons to lure the wraith out into the open before their bows is very effective, and using the scamp as the second summons is even better use of her magicka - wraiths are particularly susceptible to fireballs, regardless of source. It's like more bang for the septim.

And what a delightful way of stating the obvious - "I'm covered in pee and slime, and I'm broke. Help me find that treasure and I'll split it with you." Nah. I like Buffy's turn of phrase much better.

I really do love the growing friendship and partnership between Buffy and Alawen. They are very suiting to each other and they work together like perfection.

Recalling my bruised butt and wet greaves, I was more than a little motivated to prove my worth to Alawen.

I really do love this. Despite the fact that she injured herself, Buffy decides to use it to her advantage in proving herself to Alawen, which i think is very endearing, especially in the free-spirited Buffy

LOVE IT!

One minor complaint: Buffy is using her Detect Life ring(s) yet they're uncertain if anything is behind the closed doors. I'm not sure you're being consistent here, although there are a number of instances in the game where the dead only become undead when you approach. Unless Buffy has encountered those, I'd expect her to place more trust in her rings. Alawen can't see the glows, but Buffy should have been able to see the wraith in the captains cabin, and the lack of life signs in the navigation room.

But as expected, they get the tactical advantage back by using their brains. The use of a Scamp for its fireball attack, the whole "who's going to tank" discussion, all add up to a great story.

the Emma May's main weather deck
Here we see the author's time spent on ships.

Buffy shows her stuff once more, not only locating the enemy with her radar detect life rings, but employing a clever use of summoning, and then turning to lure the wraith out into the open. Then later some wisdom on the part of Alawen as she volunteers to take the brunt of the next attack, with some extra potion fortification.

And Buffy shows her elfmanity, noticing that while Alawen is a comrade-in-arms, she will also soon be a dangerous opponent in the tournament. Perhaps dangerous enough to take the the title of champion away from her master. At the same time, she shows her integrity with her revulsion over such thoughts.

They spoke of a smuggler's treasure farther up the Panther
This makes something that never made sense in the game - that the dead crewmen would bury their treasure up the Panther - and makes it believable. Perhaps it was the knowledge of that treasure all along that drove the crew to mutiny, and smash the ship into the rocks of the rivermouth?



nits:
There were enough holes and cracks in the old hull that slender{,} dust-laden streaks of sunshine
Take a look, and see if you might want to put a comma where I inserted it above?

I signaled a stop{,} then whispered what my rings revealed.
Same here.