A nice touch, Acadian. A good pathway to lead Buffy into getting new gear and a new look and attitude in the upcoming stories!

The sad thing about this chapter is once again that Buffy knows that her dreams are just that. Dreams. Poor Buffy! Seeing her attempting to hope on the reigns of walking was also something intriguing. You truly show us the struggle she is going through in the aftermath. Not only was she damaged physically, but emotionally as wel. The latter being the greatest injury for wounds can heal easily compared to lost love. She's not going to take that loss very well through the years.

It warmed my heart to see Sigrid in her role here. Buffy’s not wrong to feel guilty over what happened, but Savlian wouldn’t want her to waste herself getting lost down that road. Sigrid knew just what to say. I was glad to see that Buffy was looking forward to dreams of Savlian. Her memories can still be a comfort, despite her regrets.

Oh my gosh, sniffing her turnip! What a welcome visit from Superian! Moira was hilarious. I imagine that the House of Akatosh will be a livelier place with the orphans about. Especially that Moira! It was wonderful to hear how the Kvatch folk were rearranging things while Buffy was getting stronger.

It is Mara who taught you to love, but the free spirited Goddess of sky, travelers and forest that can help you mourn. You are a wood elf and need to spend time outdoors. Embrace the cleansing tears of Kyne – what we call rain.”

I love this part. How true. I’m sure that Acadian would also like to get out under the sky. There is still a lot of healing needed, and Oleta’s words let me imagine what Buffy will probably not completely detail in her journal. What a wonderful episode of hope, humor, and beginnings.

Excellent and heavy stuff...

So sad... ...

Luckily, she has a wonderful cast of friends around her...Brilliant characters...

It'll be interesting to see which of the paths of fate Mara puts her on...

Wonder if she's really seen the last of Martin and Magoza... ...

Brilliant stuff...

Love it!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Episode 171 found Buffy still recovering from her wounds in Kvatch's chapel. During a visit by Lucilius and Sigrid she learned: 1. Lucilius now held Savlian’s command position. 2. The encampment had been moved up to just outside the walls. 3. Rebuilding the city had begun. The following day, Bolden and Moria brought Superian into the chapel for a visit. High Priestess Oleta announced her intention to release our bowgirl the following day.

KC- Buffy’s opening dream was essentially the draft scene that never was – our alternate ending for the book. It was great fun imagining the reactions of those ‘not in the know’ about Martin’s sudden departure. Thank you!

Rider- As you suspect, I don’t see any ‘magic moment’ in her future that suddenly brings Buffy around. Her grieving will be a long process and I believe much of it will occur between Books 1 and 2. It was such a joy to reunite Buffy and Superian, even if only for a brief visit. Moria gets to take center stage one more time in a couple episodes. Thank you.

SubRosa- Buffy’s slowly making progress and, as you say, at least her head is clearing. Moria is such a blast to write as we try to create ways to mangle her words. I so appreciate your kind insights.

mALX- You and I have each lost a beloved mate. For you to endorse the way Buffy is grieving and clinging to dreams means the world to me. Where is Foxy? I thought the scent of Buffy’s turnip would surely bring him ‘round.

Darkness Eternal- Thank you for those wonderful words! I’m so glad Buffy’s struggle is coming through.

Grits- I so appreciate your endorsement of Sigrid. I think she is proving to be right up there with Kud-Ei and Carahil among wonderful guildmagisters and has really grown into the role forced upon her. I’m so pleased that our scene with Moria and the turnip-sniffing Superian brought smiles to this somber epilogue. Yes, our wood elf needs to get outdoors, smell the trees and feel the sunshine. You’re right that much of Buffy’s healing will be ‘off camera’ between books.

McBadgere- Thank you for drawing out that Buffy is reaping what she has sown regarding friends. She needs them now and they are there for her. I’m not sure if Buffy will see Martin again, but even the jaws of Oblivion will not keep Buff and ‘Zoga apart in future books.



An early sun warmed my shoulders as Superian slowly picked our way through the encampment’s new site outside the walls. I had a commanding view over the maze of tents from the saddle, even if I had needed Bolden’s help to get up there. Since I was unable to mount or dismount without help, the stable master had admonished me to limit my riding to the upper plateau where there were plenty of hands to assist.

Once clear of the tents and smoke from warming fires, Superian and I passed several small groups of men just outside the gate. They were seated on the ground, enjoying a midmorning snack and break from their labors. Sounds of hammers, saws and stonecutting tools inside Kvatch announced that other builders and tradesmen were hard at work. A wagon, heavily laden with building supplies and pulled by two draft horses, yielded as it approached the gate to allow a similarly drawn load of debris to exit the city.

Nearing the western edge of the plateau, my eyes fell upon the new graveyard. I turned Superian away. “No, girl. I know Savlian is there, but. . . I just c-can’t. . . not yet.”

We made our way back to the makeshift corral – a vast improvement over the tethering arrangements Bolden had used in the lower encampment. The burned remnants of the original barn and outbuildings had been cleared away, but reconstructing High Country Stables had not yet begun in earnest. A tent, warded against mice by the stable’s cat, provided storage for feed, tack and grooming supplies. The Redguard greeted our return with an approving smile. “The change in this horse is remarkable now that her elf is up where she belongs.”

“Thank you for the wonderful care you and Moria gave her while I was recovering in the chapel.” I swung one leg over the mare’s neck. The stable master’s strong hands around my waist then eased me to the ground. “Within a few days, I should be able to dismount unassisted and mount with only the help of a brief spell to augment my strength.”

After we stripped off Superian’s tack, she sought the stable’s single water trough while Bolden and I stowed her saddle, pad and bridle. He asked, “Would you like a hand grooming her this morning?”

“No thanks,” I replied. “My left arm may be in a sling, but I’m not completely crippled.”

Bolden wandered off to help Moria attend his other charges. Able to use only one hand, the grooming went slowly. As I glanced at the old Legion gelding named Raxle, I recalled the joy I felt riding side-by-side with Savlian on our way to and from Fort Agarctova. The emptiness in my heart claimed me again. Dropping the brush, I sobbed into Superian’s mane. “Acadian, what are we going to do?”

The mare nickered softly, but my paladin had no answers. I could tell his grief was more for me than our loss of Savlian, but it was nevertheless as raw as mine. After a time, I picked up the brush and managed to finish my task. Listless feet then carried me to my guild.

The blue and white striped tent flap had barely closed behind me when I was confronted by Gladius Maro. “Buffy, you’ve got to help! Sigrid’s with the Countess, and Dreelius says he knows almost nothing of human ailments.”

“Calm down, Gladius. Who’s ill?”

“Pelena’s been throwing up. She banished me from our sleeping tent.”

“Wait here,” I said.

I lifted a flap to one of the small tents connected to the guild. From within the dimly lit sleeping area assigned to the couple, Pelena’s normally soft Bretonic voice snarled, “I told you Gladius, I don’t want you to see me like this!”

“It’s Buffy,” I replied, stepping inside and allowing the canvas to close behind me.

“Uarrhhgg!” She was seated cross legged on the ground and vomiting into a chamber urn.

I knelt beside her, trying to ignore the odor lest I become nauseous myself. Filling my right hand with magic, I slowly moved it over the woman until my fingers came to rest low on her stomach area. After a few moments, I let the bond fade and announced, “A new life dwells within you.”

She looked up from the urn, her eyes wide.

I nodded with a smile. “Your baby has the spirit of a girl.”

She started to hug me, but aborted the attempt as she turned her face to vomit again.

I summoned a handkerchief and pressed it into her hand.

After some more retching, she looked up. “Buffy, now that we know what’s causing this, would you consult my book out on the alchemy table? Among its potion recipes you’ll find one my father created to help alleviate the symptoms of morning sickness.”

“We’ll take care of it.” I cast a simple healing spell to temporarily ease her discomfort a bit. “Try to rest now. I’ll be back shortly.” As she once again lowered her face over the urn and began to cough, I rose and left her tent.

“Pelena’s not ill; she’s with child.”

Gladius’ dumbfounded look slowly transitioned to a grin. He then found his voice. “How lucky I am to have a wonderful woman to share my life and raise a family with. I –“ He stopped himself, clearly staring at the tears my blinking had failed to restrain.

“Forgive me, Buffy,” the soldier continued soberly. “Pelena told me what Captain Matius meant to you. And it was clear, even to this loutish fool, how he felt about you. You and the Captain fought so hard to free this city. The price of capturing the castle was a steep one.”

“Gladius, I don’t want my grief to diminish your joy.”

Undeterred, the Imperial continued, “After we cleared the rubble from that trapped passageway, Lucilius and Mazoga made their way directly to you. Raccan and I were the first ones into the royal bed chamber. Would it help to hear what we found?”

I summoned another handkerchief. Dabbing both cheeks, I let my gaze fall to the carpet under my feet and nodded.

“Charred bones, armor and the scattered weapons of several castle guards told the grim story of their final stand,” began Gladius. “We found Count Ormellius’ remains with his sword still clutched in one hand. The robed skeleton of the court’s mage was there too, his broken staff on the ground nearby. Raccan told me the weapon was completely depleted of charges and its owner had clearly resorted to melee combat with it.”

I swallowed hard, then raised my eyes to meet his. “The Daedra claimed many, but Pelena is growing a new life and told me that perhaps a potion could help her feel better.” I stepped to the alchemy table and quickly found what we needed in her book. After showing Gladius the recipe, I said, “These ingredients can easily be found right here on Kvatch Mountain. Gather and bring them to Sigrid, along with this recipe.”

“Not to you?” he asked.

“No,” I replied. “My alchemy skill is honed toward poisons. Sigrid will be able to mix and brew a much more effective potion than I.” In response to the concern on his face, I added, “I’ll comfort Pelena some more and encourage her to rest. Don’t worry, I’ll stay here in the guild until you return.” The wolf on Gladius’ surcoat and scent of mineral oil wafting from his mail filled my head with memories – and a yearning to be held by my own hero. I managed to say, “This will pass.”

After Gladius left, the seated Dreelius glanced up from the book he was reading to shake his head and quietly say, “A hatchling to be wandering about the guild, no doubt breaking things and causing mischief.”

Part of me wanted to grab his scaly tail and strangle him with it but, with such an act being against the guild’s charter and one arm in a sling, I settled for pulling rank. “Listen, Associate, I want you to deliver a pitcher of water and cup to Pelena.” A slight hiss escaped through pointed teeth and his orange eyes narrowed. In response to the Argonian’s angry display, my good hand found its way to one hip and I added, “That is, unless you’d prefer my chore of exchanging her vomit-filled urn for a clean one?”

“Since you put it that way, Journeyman, I will do as you say.”

Dreelius and I completed our tasks. After assuring Pelena that Gladius and Sigrid were working on a potion for her, I left the young woman resting a bit more comfortably and finally slipped into my own sleeping tent. Exhaustion reminded me that I was not yet completely well myself.

I tried to feel happy for Gladius and Pelena as I stood in the same small canvas chamber where Arielle Jurard and Roliand Hanus had spent their last nights. So much death. Olava, the living saint of Mara back in Bravil, had taught me that for each life lost a new one was created. Given the price of Kvatch’s freedom, I figured every couple on this mountain had better get as busy as Gladius and Pelena. If Savlian was here, I knew that he and I would certainly be striving to do our part. . . .

Could it be?

My throat was dry and heart racing as I nervously placed a glowing right hand low on my belly. I could, of course, sense the familiar combined life sign that was Acadian and I. There was also the powerful spirit of Phantom somehow bound within us. I sadly let the magic fade as I realized that no tiny Savlian-sired elf grew within me.

It was only midday, but all I wanted to do was curl up in the bedding that Savlian and I had shared. I needed to sleep, for only in my dreams did the man I love still live.

First!

Buffy's recovery begins with a step outside into the new world. A good touch you did to show the workers are up and running, starting to build a new Kvatch(something we never got to see in the unmodded game).

"I recalled the joy I felt riding side-by-side with Savlian on our way to and from Fort Agarctova. The emptiness in my heart claimed me again."

. Memories will always linger. It is a sad thing when she see's Savlian in everything she does, even in her dreams...though they are nothing but memories. Buffy will tough it out, I know she's going to pull through.

/sigh. Barely able to even walk and Gaius had to interrupt, though with wonderful news of Pelena's pregnancy. Sad to see Buffy doing simple tasks after her heroic efforts to stop the Daedra. In the end we got a wonderful Acadian/Buffy relationship that speaks volumes, more phantom mysteries. You keep us wondering, good job. And I must wonder if Buffy is truly pregos when she thinks she isn't. You set up a wonderful job of depicting the aftermath of the destruction and how everyone is picking themselves up and dusting themselves off. And with destruction, comes rebirth in the form of a new child. I liked that. What stories the child might hear growing up, eh.

Buffy’s reaction to the graveyard does not surprise me. I am glad that she’s able to ride Superian, even if she’s limited to the small area around the city.

I knew it, when they said Pelena was throwing up, my first thought was ‘baby!’ I knew Buffy would put the task of brewing the potion to someone with talents there. Buffy’s nature shows though, she stayed with Pelena and comforted her. She needs little things like that to keep her occupied I think. Dreelius is less than enthusiastic!

The ending is very sad. You had me going at Could it be? Sweet dreams Buffy.

The title immediately makes me think of This song

It is good to see that the work of rebuilding Kvatch is well underway. Not surprisingly though, Buffy is not ready to visit Savlian's grave. That will bring home the full reality of his being dead and gone forever. Something our bowgirl knows in her head, but still cannot accept in her heart yet. I fear it will take much longer to rebuild Buffy's heart, than it will to replace the stones of Kvatch.

Pelena is throwing up? Let me guess, she has a bun in the oven? Yep! A wonderfully subtle example of how even after so much death, life goes on. Buffy's own depression over the thought was to be expected. It is a cruel twist of fate that others can be so happy, when you are at your worst.

“This will pass.”
Let us hope so.

For a minute there I thought you were going to pull a huge surprise on me after that "Could it be?" This chapter went a long way toward showing us Buffy's spirit and strength will return. She is sad, but already picking up her routines and looking ahead to the future of Kvatch (if not her own yet). Very sad chapter, but filled with hope for Kvatch to return to its former glory.

Gladius needs to be choked to death twice, he was just full of great ideas on how to help Buffy feel better. First saying "At least I'm lucky enough to have someone to share my life and happiess with," then going into explicit details about the gory aftermath of Buffy's failed mission - Buffy needs to make him one of her special "potions" to silence him, ROFL !!!!

Awesome Write !!!

As I glanced at the old Legion gelding named Raxle, I recalled the joy I felt riding side-by-side with Savlian on our way to and from Fort Agarctova. The emptiness in my heart claimed me again.

Finding comfort in memories is one thing, but sudden reminders must be especially difficult for Buffy. They’re their own kind of ambush. As Pelena quits retching and starts to bloom, it won’t surprise me if Buffy just wants to be elsewhere. Especially if Gladius is determined to keep a foot in his mouth.

“Gladius, I don’t want my grief to diminish your joy.”

How very Buffy even to know that it might.

Part of me wanted to grab his scaly tail and strangle him with it but, with such an act being against the guild’s charter and one arm in a sling, I settled for pulling rank.

Oh my gosh, hilarious! Dreelius is lucky the urn didn’t go over his head. Does Buffy know a Telekinesis spell?

Could it be?



I enjoyed the sights and sounds of Kvatch rebuilding. Buffy seeing the draft horses and wagons just before she looked over at the cemetery brought Savlian’s exit from the city right back to mind. Buffy seems sort of between what happened and what will come, with the world picking up its pace around her. I get the sense that she’ll be ready to make some decisions soon.

Sorry I've been absent. Been away for a short while and was only able to drop in for short moments.

171

What a marvellous chapter indeed! I love Oleta! I cannot stress it enough. I love how she doesn't talk to Buffy like she is a piece of fragile china. Whereas yes, Oleta is kind and caring to Buffy and her situation, she also believes in Buffy, hence why it is so trusting of her judgement to let BUffy leave the chapel; so soon.

The whole Tunic thing made me laugh (it reminded me of a whole jauffre/jeffery exchange). Judging from mALX's comment the TUnic exchange was put in to reference something else? I'm probably wrong. Haha

172

A sad chapter which brings mt to the verge of tears.

The graveyard line had my stomach in knots, just the sheer fact that Buffy is trying to remain strong, but Superian is trying to bring her to Savlian is gut wrenching.

But the end, so heartbreaking. The dreams of a mini Savlian shattered in a single moment. Buffy grows to accept his death very slowly.

AMAZING.

I like the use of the summoned handkerchief again. Buffy's spells are so practical. I'm slightly surprised she doesn't have one to dispel odors.

I also like the fact that her physical healing is taking time, so that she's not being rushed with the rest of her recovery. She's getting involved with the recovery of the city, and its people, so she's not alone in her grief.

Needs some 'Zoga/Martin news to distract her soon.

The spells you've invented are so simple that really anyone could do 'em, but they're so innovative and useful...

From astride Superian, Buffy was able to give us a view of Kvatch’s initial rebuilding efforts in Episode 172. Upon returning to the Mages Guild, a concerned Gladius Maro asked for help with Pelena who was vomiting. Buffy diagnosed the soldier’s mate as pregnant. Later in private, the nervous elf self-assessed that no new spirits grew among those dwelling within her.

Darkness Eternal- Thank you for noting that life in Kvatch goes on, even as the very cycle of death and new life continues. Buffy and Acadian have some serious talking to do after the next couple episodes.

KC- Thanks for appreciating how we have specialized some of Buffy’s talents, even within the same school; in this case noting that she’s great with poisons but terrible with potions. You know her well! Dreelius seems to come through when required, but he sure is cranky!

SubRosa- Thank you, my fellow Enya fan, for the link to that great song. It is one I had not heard! There is one more song left for Buffy to sing in our story - in the very last episode. It is another Enya one. Buffy will make it to Savlian’s grave but, as she said, just not yet.

mALX- Thanks for picking up on the rays of hope here. Gladius is a good friend and means well, but he clearly never received much training from the Legion on consoling grieving widows.

Grits- Thank you for those very kind words. Gosh, you are spot on in suspecting that Buffy will be ready to make some decisions soon. We need the next two episodes to more fully set the stage, then our final two episodes for her to sort things out and set her course.

Rihanae- So glad you enjoyed Oleta! No private joke on the turnip – just Moria’s habit of mangling her words. The chuckles were that one of the readers here (D. Foxy) can see dirty innuendo in almost anything, and mALX correctly suspected he would have fun with our line about ‘sniffing Buffy’s turnip’. Thanks for your kind words about Buffy passing by the graveyard and the emotional roller coaster she rode as she discovered Pelena was pregnant and she was not.

ghastley- So glad you like the summoned handkerchiefs. Buffy sure cries enough to need them! Yes, grieving will take time for her – even as life and rebuilding goes on.

Zalphon- Thanks. In this next episode, Buffy displays her ability to summon towels.



Moria carried Superian’s tack into the stable’s storage tent. The girl returned to hand me a hoof pick then went to work with a grooming brush. “It’s nice to see your arm out of that sling and that you can mount and dismount your mare without help now.”

I began inspecting each hoof. “Well, I still need a brief fortify strength spell to make it up to the saddle, but not for much longer I think.”

“I’m glad you’re riding Superian every day. I can tell how happy that makes her.” Moria’s hands paused a moment. “What are you going to do after we finish grooming her today?”

Setting aside the hoof pick, I began working my fingers through Superian’s long tail. “My next stop is the bath tent to get cleaned up and wash my hair.”

“Bolden says that, as a mage, you can heat your own water! Can I go with you? My chores here at the stable are already done for the morning.”

I looked at the bits of straw decorating unkempt brown hair, streaks of dirt marring the young hopeful face, and grimy hands that fidgeted with the grooming brush they held. My eyes then traveled down the front of a stained flaxen skirt to horse manure-encrusted toes and sandals. “I think that would be a wonderful idea, Moria. We can do each other’s hair.”

Soon, we left the silkily groomed mare and headed for our next task. Moria was skipping and humming at my side. “I don’t often use the bath tent,” she declared.

“Oh really?” I replied, feigning surprise.

“No. My guild head, Tavia, makes each of us spend a whole day every week on laundry detail. We have to use the stream down by the old encampment because the one up here by the city has a waterfall and she’s afraid of losing clothes and orphans over the cliff.” The young Imperial then puffed up with pride. “Because I work at the stable, I can use Belle and her wagon to haul laundry down and back up the mountain. Tavia says all that will change once we move into the city and they get some ducks to carry water.” She giggled. “I think she must be teasing me about the ducks.”

“I think they’re special ones called aqueducts,” I remarked.

“Anyway,” she continued, “we end up getting soaking wet and pretty clean by the end of our day washing laundry. All of us except Isabel, that is.”

“Isabel?”

“Oh, she goes to work in the Countess’ tent, learning how to be a lady’s maid. They make her wear nice clothes and use the bath tent nearly every day! That green elf with red eyes - they’re called Dungmer by the way - who works for the Countess wanted the oldest orphan girl, but Tavia told her I was not a proper bait.”

“Although I can’t imagine why, perhaps Tavia meant you were not appropriate for duty with the Countess and her Dunmer steward?”

“Yes, that’s it. She said I was better off outdoors being trained as a hustler at the stable.”

“I must admit, Superian and I think you’re a wonderful ostler.” Approaching one of the plateau’s several springs, I announced, “Here we are.” Moria and I lugged water to the nearby women’s bath tent until half a dozen full buckets rested on the slatted wooden floor inside. The girl watched in rapt fascination as flame danced from my fingertips to heat the water.

I fished vials of soap, conditioner and shampoo from my pack and arranged them on a bench. Our clothing then found its way onto hooks mounted to the corner support posts inside the tent. “Leave your sandals on,” I instructed, “so they get washed as well.”

As I raised the first bucket above our heads and began to drizzle water over us, Moria asked, “Why’re your ribs sticking out? Hasn’t Weedum-Ja been feeding you enough?”

I looked down to verify her observation. “I guess I haven’t been eating as often as I should.” Once thoroughly wet, we each began soaping up.

“Have you been bad?” she persisted.

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes when I’m naughty, Tavia makes me go to bed without dinner.” Staring at me, she continued, “I can see your hip bones. And I think you need to feed your bosoms more too. Someday, I’m going to have hips. And bosoms too – big ones. Well, maybe not as big as Sigrid’s; some of the boys make jokes about her and I don’t think I’d fancy that.”

“I’m sure it won’t be long until you begin to blossom, Moria.” We poured more water over each other before washing our hair. “No,” I finally replied to her question, “I don’t think I’ve been bad. In fact, both Weedum-Ja and Sigrid have been encouraging me to eat more. I guess I’m just too sad to feel very hungry.”

“Oh, I know about being sad,” she replied soberly.

We washed our hair a second time in silence then, lifting more buckets, gave each other a final rinse. I summoned a series of towels and we dried off. My fingers ran conditioner through our hair then Moria, being surprisingly careful around my ears, combed mine out. She gave me a center part and left it loose. “My stable master says you’re like a lost forest creature now without her mate.”

“Bolden’s a wise man,” I replied, “and yes, I miss Savlian.”

She passed my comb to me and turned on the bench so I could tame her tangled mane. “I remember that night the Daedra set my house on fire. Part of the roof collapsed, trapping my parents. Captain Savlian broke down the door, threw me over his shoulder and charged back out just before the rest of the roof fell. I remember kicking and screaming how much I hated him for not saving my mother and father.”

As I arranged her brown hair into twin ponytails using a pair of green ribbons from my pack, I said, “I know Savlian would have saved your parents had it been possible.”

“I realize that now.” She turned to face me with glistening green eyes. “I never got to tell him I was sorry for yelling that I hated him. Nor did I ever thank him for saving my life. Now it’s too late.”

“Don’t you worry, Moria.” I took her hands in mine as I blinked back my own tears. “He knew.” I wrapped the girl’s filthy clothes into a bundle, instructing her to bring them to her next laundry day. The russet felt dress with green trim that I donated from my pack fit her well enough. Once we were both dressed, I said, “You look like a beautiful young lady.”

She grinned. “I like having a bath with you – warm water, good smells and pretty hair.”

As we left the tent, she pierced the air, “Tiberius!” Skipping away from me to join the smith’s apprentice as he passed by, I heard her demand, “Smell my new Buffy hair!”

After sniffing the thick tresses thrust into his face, Moria’s fellow orphan smiled and awkwardly took her hand in his. She yanked it away, hit him on the shoulder and sprinted off toward the stable. I whispered so quietly that only Acadian could hear, “Give her some time to grow bosoms and hips, Tiberius. Then you’ll have your hands full.”

I turned and let my feet carry me toward the blue and white tent of the Mages Guild. In some ways, I felt so much more childish than Moria. Why couldn’t I accept Savlian’s death as well as she had dealt with the traumatic loss of both parents? Despite her tender age, she seemed of sturdier stuff than I.

The flap to my guild no sooner closed behind me when I heard, “I hope the day greets you well, Milady.” My eyes fell upon auburn hair, blue-green skin and delicately curved ears that rose to graceful points. The well-dressed mer rose from a chair and continued, “I am Badali Sendal, Steward to the Court of Kvatch and humbled to make your acquaintance, Dame Buffy.” She looked at me expectantly. When I offered my hand, she grasped it warmly.

I recalled that the steward had been one of the chapel’s survivors. “I’m pleased to meet you, Badali. Please call me Buffy.”

“Nay, Milady. Although I have served and advised the royalty of Kvatch for generations, I hold no title of nobility. Please permit me the honor of executing my station and duties.”

It was instantly clear that any further attempt to dissuade her use of my title would be as futile as such efforts had been with Lucilius Marcus. “I hope you and the Countess have recovered from your long ordeal. How may the Mages Guild help you today?”

“My business is with you, Milady, not your guild. I bring tidings and an invitation from Lady Odalys.”

I tilted my head. “An invitation?”

“Yes. My lady liege wishes that you dine with her this evening.”

“Why me?” I immediately tried to correct my uncourtly response by adding, “I-I mean, I’m honored.”

It was Badali’s turn to tilt her head. “Because you are the only noble besides herself who yet breathes the air of life and freedom in our fair but struggling city.”

“You mean I’ll be dining alone with the Countess?”

Like Boderi Farano, the age of this Dunmer could have been forty or four hundred. The glow of wisdom in her ruby eyes and reference to serving generations of nobility suggested the latter. “Be at ease, Dame Buffy. She does not bite and you will find her most gracious. May I tell Lady Odalys to expect you within the canvas walls of her court as the sun slips into the Abecean?”

I nodded. “I’ll be there.”

With a flawless curtsey, Badali said, “The Countess will be most pleased, Milady.” Without presenting her back to me, the mer then slipped out of the guild.

“What shall I wear tonight?” I pondered aloud.

“A change out of these buckskins might be in order,” replied Acadian quietly. “Perhaps your guildmagister, who now also serves as court mage, can help?”

“Excellent idea.” I went straight to Sigrid’s sleeping tent, which doubled as her office.

“Good day, Buffy.” Pressing our guild’s seal into the hot wax of a folded letter, she added, “One of my more unpleasant duties. Roliand left no living kin, but Arielle is survived by a younger sister – with arcane aspirations it seems. I told her how bravely our dear guild mates died. Now, how can I help you?”

So Moria Malaprop has to grow some hips and bosoms before she's a proper bait? Makes sense to me!

ROFL !!!

Moria had me in stitches with her artless chatter - ducks & Dungmer

Buffy having to ask what to wear to go to a party? Urk, she really is not herself. But going to Sigrid is a great idea, I haven't posted a screen of her boobs dressed in fancy blue velvet lately, ROFL !!

Buffy forgets she was just as tough as Moria, taking the death of her parents at that same age. She is healing well, actually. Functioning is bringing her out of it. Awesome Write !!

It sounds like Buffy's body is mending at least, fortify strength spells not withstanding.

My eyes then traveled down the front of a stained flaxen skirt to horse manure-encrusted toes and sandals.
Hmmm, yep, I think the bathing tent would be a good idea indeed...

“I think they’re special ones called aqueducts,”
I have heard about those ducks. I think they use duck tape to keep them from flying away. Seriously though, Moira once again provides a wonderful sense of levity to what is otherwise a very grim and depressing time for our heroine.

Badali was an interesting new character for us to meet. I wonder how many generations of Goldwines she has served? Two, or twenty? It could be either.

So the Countess requests our Dame's presence for dinner? Somehow I suspect that it will not be a purely social visit between two aristocrats. I have the feeling the Countess has some ideas about Buffy's continued presence at Kvatch? Perhaps as a permanent addition to her court? However, I think Buffy will have a hard time remaining in Kvatch now that Savlian is dead. Now it will be a city haunted by his ghost.

Sigrid sending a letter of condolence to Arielle's sister was a good reminder of the two battlemage's and their sacrifice. I wonder if we might be seeing the younger Jurard sometime in the future?

And we start off with some steed grooming. Good for Superian. And once again I see two females bathing around here. Is this what you do in the regular basis? Anyways I love the shampoo and conditioner part, since I always wondered how exactly they kept their hair in such lustrous fashion. I should probably search for some medieval shampoo recipes .


Don't know why, but I loved this part. Poor Sigrid.

So after Superian' grooming, as found Buffy and the young orphan child also getting themselves cleaned up. And yet more sadness on Buffy's part of Savlian's passing. The moment she said she hasn't been eating much, it is obvious why. And the physical appearance on her part is not going so well either. And we conclude the chapter with Buffy's invitation to dinner with royalty. My curiosity is peaked now. Good chapter!

I love how rather than telling the numbers of days Buffy shows time passing by her body healing and her strength returning.

Soon, we left the silkily groomed mare and headed for our next task. Moria was skipping and humming at my side. “I don’t often use the bath tent,” she declared.

“Oh really?” I replied, feigning surprise.

I love it! Buffy is right in the moment, and probably itching to get her hands in Moira’s hair. I had the best time trying to figure out what had been said by untangling Moira’s version.

Of course Moira was careful with Buffy’s ears! If Buffy lets her groom Superian, she must have a gentle touch. And now we know who is responsible for Buffy’s new hairstyle! I like how Moira turned to Buffy with her regrets over Savlian. It let Buffy be her nurturing self a little. An adult might have been afraid to mention him.

The flap to my guild no sooner closed behind me when I heard, “I hope the day greets you well, Milady.”

Oh, I like Badali! Her impeccable and unobtrusive courtesy was a delight. Maybe Buffy will get a little girl time with Sigrid before she heads out to feed her bosoms. (Before Buffy heads out, that is. I think Sigrid’s might already be full.) Also it was wonderful to hear a quiet word from Acadian.

What a wondefully sweet chapter!

Moira is adorable, her mindless chatter is perfect and just what Buffy needs; a charmingly cute distraction

I love that Moira is desperate to become womanly, and I loved Buffy's little side comment once Moira had ran off. It's great to see Buffy making jokes again

Dinner with the Countess? Sounds important! Haha

Can't wait for more

Buffy’s healed up a bit, though not fully back since she has to fortify her strength. Can she use her bow yet? Oh wait… it’s gone.

Heated water is definitely a perk of being a mage!

“Oh really?” I replied, feigning surprise.
I love Moria’s difficulty with words. For a while I thought Moria was the name of an NPC in Oblivion, but she’s actually a goofy shop keeper in Fallout 3 (another Bethesda title). She’s just as funny as little Moria here.

What a clever way to fill us in how Buffy’s been doing, by having Moria point out her ribs and hip just like a child would. That was a tender moment between the two remembering Sav.

An invitation to dine with the countess!

Excellent stuff!... ...

Forgive a latecomer's ignorance but I never realised that when people said "Dame Buffy" I just assumed it was an honourific not an actual...Um...Honourific...Um...And yet, she's nobility...Wow...Sorry...I missed that... ...Knowing that it may wind up not being so but...Quick recap?... ...

Aaaamywho...Lovely chapters dealing with the loss...Brilliantly done...

Here's hoping for book 2 to be hoving into view soon...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*..

During Episode 173, Buffy and Moria groomed Superian. The orphan then joined Buffy for a bath and some girl talk. Finally our elf made it back to her guild, only to be met by the court’s steward who tendered an invitation to dine with Countess Odalys Goldwine that very evening.

ghastley- Thanks for enjoying dear Moira! She’ll grow into a fine hustler ostler someday; that is of course if she doesn't take her future big bosoms and run off to Gweden.

mALX- Yes, I think seeking Sigrid’s fashion advice was wise. After all, any woman who can fight in blue velvet. . . . I’m glad to see you think Buffy is healing fairly well. I do agree with Mazoga that she is tougher than she looks – and tougher than she gives herself credit for. Thank you.

SubRosa- Thanks for noting what I think was some needed levity again from Moira. I’m glad you found Badali interesting and hope you enjoy learning more about the Countess in this next episode. Yes, they will discuss Buffy’s future. I always envisioned Arielle Jurard playing an enduring role in Buffy’s life; I console myself that, with her death, at least she left a sister for Buffy to hopefully meet someday.

Darkness Eternal- Thank you for your interest in Buffy’s hair care products! Here’s the recipe for her conditioner: It contains just a touch of ectoplasm, along with some rosemary oil and aloe vera for conditioning, glow dust for shine, and some finely ground bergamot for a nice citrus scent.

Grits- Thanks for your kind words on how we are implying the passage of time via the scenes Buffy is sharing. Heh, Moira was at her best with some of her word choices there, but somewhere in the tangle were words that Buffy probably needed to hear. Thank you for noting that Buffy has retired her girlish ponytail and green ribbon. So glad you liked Badali! Acadian hasn’t had too much to say as he is also processing Buffy’s loss. This next episode will strongly feature Countess Odalys Goldwine, but our final two episodes that follow will be exclusively the Buffy, Acadian and Superian show.

Rihanae- Thanks for noting that life and even lighter moments continue as Buffy is trying to deal without Savlian. I hope you enjoy Countess Kvatch!

KC- Thanks for recalling that Buffy’s mighty bow, Slayer, was shattered during the battle that killed Savlian and broke our bowgirl. I guess it’s natural that she might not be eating well at this point and probably there’s no one better than an uninhibited child to point that out to her.

McBadgere- Thank you! Yes, ‘Dame’ is the honorific for a female knight. Sir Mazoga opted to retain her self-appointed title of ‘Sir’ and I don’t know a soul who would dare argue with her! Buffy doesn’t feel much like a knight, but the history of her actions since achieving the title back in Leyawiin would indicate she is growing into the role.



I returned the watchful smile of Jesan Rilian on duty outside the Countess’ tent. Nervous elven fingers then smoothed my linen skirt one last time. Sigrid had assured me that the low cut forest green dress, when layered over my indigo chemise, was appropriate. “Milady?” I tentatively addressed the purple and white striped canvas in front of me.

A feminine blue-green hand slipped through the tent’s rather garish flap and pulled it aside. I was ushered inside by Steward Badali Sendal. Her fine quality blouse and skirt were of complimentary shades of loam and cinnamon. “Good evening, Dame Buffy. Welcome to the Court of Kvatch, such as it is.”

I did not see Lady Odalys. “Thank you, Badali.” The large tent was similar to that used by my guild and lit by several lanterns and candles. The main area was dominated by a long table that, at least for this evening, was appointed for dinner. Its centerpiece was a ceramic vase filled with local wildflowers. A single basket between the two place settings colorfully displayed fruits, cheese and leavened bread. The dishes, flatware and single pitcher were all of pewter. A pair of hanging tapestries along the fabric of one wall undoubtedly served as doors to connecting tents. I imagined they led to sleeping quarters for Badali and the Countess. Fine carpets that had seen better days covered most of the dirt floor. A charred Kvatch banner, no doubt salvaged from the castle, hung at the tent’s far end. I remarked, “This makes for a fine court until the castle is repaired.”

The steward seemed pleased with my assessment. “We have Lady Millona Umbranox of Anvil to thank for the tent and some of its furnishings. She has been most generous, in part because she is the niece of our own late Lord Goldwine. Lady Odalys demands that our current arrangements be stately enough for the appropriate administration of her city, yet of adequate humility to reflect the conditions her subjects currently endure.” With a glance toward the table, she added, “No silver here, I’m afraid. Similarly, you will find your fare this evening to be the same that Weedum-Ja serves the rest of our citizens. Our Lady’s young maiden in training will be here shortly with hot stew.”

I smiled. “I do believe that Weedum-Ja’s fine cuisine is fit for the noblest of palettes.”

As if on cue, the tent’s main entrance gapped open long enough to admit a girl carrying a covered pot. “Wonderful, Isabel,” said Badali. As the steward headed for a hanging tapestry that undoubtedly led to the private quarters of my hostess, she added, “I will let the Countess know we are ready.”

Isabel was a fine-boned Breton who appeared to be about ten years of age. She was dressed in a wine colored outfit with black trim. Her dark hair was carefully arranged – obviously by adult hands – into a bun affixed to the back of her head. As soon as she delivered the pot to the table, she faced me, curtseyed and recited, “Dame Buffy, my name is Isabel and I am honored to make your acquaintance.”

“I’m delighted to meet you as well, Isabel. Have you had a chance to try the stew?”

“Yes, Milady. Weedum-Ja fed me already.”

“Countess Odalys, I believe you have met Dame Buffy?” I turned at the sound of Badali’s voice to see that the ruler of Kvatch had stepped from her quarters. As both Isabel and I curtseyed, I noted the Imperial looked as regal as I recalled. Raven hair, lightly streaked with gray and worn loose to her shoulders, was accented by the single shock of white that served as a reminder of her icy entombment. Her black gown was lightly embroidered with gold trim. Except for the heavy court ring of Kvatch, the noble’s jewelry matched her emerald eyes and was both tasteful and understated. She leaned on the elegantly carved handle of an ebony cane.

“Indeed I have,” the Countess answered. “I owe both my city and life to the high price paid by many, including this young knight. Dame Buffy, you are most welcome in my humble court.”

Remembering my Leyawiin lessons of ‘less is better’ when addressing high nobles, I simply said, “I am honored, and thank Milady for her kindness.”

Steadied by the cane, she limped slightly while making her way to the large chair at the head of the table. “Stop fussing, Badali,” was her response as the Dunmer tried to assist. Once seated, Lady Odalys looked at me and gestured toward the only other place setting. “This table is entirely too long to have you seated all the way at its other end.”

I took my seat along the side of the table by her left elbow.

Badali hovered nearby as Isabel began serving. Youthful hands allowed a few drops to stray from ladle to table, eliciting a wince from the girl. The Countess smiled. “Relax, child. Proper serving of food is a valuable skill that will serve you well, be it in my court or working in a tavern. It takes practice, and that means spillage now and again.”

Once two bowls had been filled with stew, Isabel poured water while Badali adorned our plates with grapes and cheese.

The Countess then announced, “Badali, you and Isabel will take your leave now. I would have private words with Dame Buffy.” In response to the Dunmer’s lifted eyebrow, the noble’s tone sharpened somewhat. “I’m quite sure that a crippled countess and wounded knight can manage to get through a meal without further assistance.” She broke a piece of bread for each of us as if to make her point. “Leave us.”

“As you wish, Milady. Isabel and I will take evening prayer at the chapel then.”

Once alone, I asked, “How is your foot, Milady? I see you have a limp, as I feared.”

“The skill of your healing touch has rendered my withered toes free of pain. The inconvenience is but a small price compared to that paid by others.” We ate for a time in silence before she continued, “Buffy, ‘tis lonely in a position of authority. Surely your captain shared that with you. Let us speak comfortably together as nobles. Two widows united by grief.”

“I confess that I do not feel like a real noble. I am only a knight because of my friend, Sir Mazoga.”

“I envy you, Buffy. I was born a Princess. My title of Countess was bestowed by marriage. You, on the other hand, gained your knighthood through intrepid deeds. And you readily displayed that gallantry again in service to my city.”

“But I did not serve your city, Milady. I served the man who freed it.”

“That you do not see the selfless nobility of your words and actions simply emphasizes my point. You have well earned your title and will always be welcome in the court of Kvatch.”

“T-thank you. I’m sorry you lost Count Ormellius. I’ve heard that he was a wise and respected ruler.”

“Yes, he died that I might live – much as Savlian did for you as I understand it.”

“Everything at Kvatch reminds me of him,” I said as my linen serviette made its way to my eyes.

“I experience the same pain over Ormellius’ loss, dear. Part of me dreads the rebuilding of our castle and the loneliness that I know will fill its empty halls. Corridors once so full of the love between a Count and his Countess.”

“I-I don’t know if I can ever get used to being here without Savlian. Sometimes I just want to run away. Do you have those feelings as well?”

“I do indeed. Once again, I envy you, Buffy.” In response to the tilt of my head, she added, “As a knight errant, you are not bound here. I am.”

“You cannot resign as Countess and seek your home in a place less filled with painful memories?”

“Were I to do that, the Elder Council would realize that I have no heir and likely appoint the eldest child from among the city rulers of Cyrodiil as Count or Countess of Kvatch.” Probably noting what I’m sure was a blank look on my face, she went on, “Thankfully, Countess Arriana Valga was able to farm her black-hearted ambitious daughter off onto Marius Caro – a good man, but one whose judgment was no doubt shaded by loneliness in agreeing to such a union.”

Although surprised by Lady Odalys’ frankness, I had to agree with her assessment of Alessia Caro. It was also clear that, despite her long period of frozen captivity in the castle’s vault, she was now quite up to date on courtly matters within the Empire. I imagined she was in written contact with at least Millona Umbranox. “Whose child is next in line then?” I asked. “Count Indarys’ son in Cheydinhal?”

“No. There are worse things than young Farwil’s unguided courage and arrogance. You are from Bravil, are you not?”

My blood ran cold. “You don’t mean. . . ?”

She nodded and her eyes flashed angrily. “My precious city on a hill was cleansed of Daedra by the blood of heroes. I’m not about to see it turned into a skooma-infested travesty by Regulus Terentius’ brat-spawn!” Almost as quickly as her storm of words began, the lady composed herself and continued calmly, “No, Buffy, I cannot forsake my title.”

I feared overstepping my position but couldn’t help myself. My spoon found its way to the table and I tentatively reached toward Countess Odalys. Her emerald eyes glistened as our hands met in mutual reassurance. “I’m sorry, Milady. I can see that you are wearing the same heavy mantle of leadership and responsibility that used to press upon the shoulders of my Savlian.”

“Then you understand that only one thing will relieve me of my throne. Many more of my years are behind than ahead of me, so death will come soon enough. Loneliness welcomes the prospect, even as my concern for the future of Kvatch dreads it.” She squeezed my hand before releasing it. “But your path is not so constrained, dear. I hope now that you can understand my envy. Do not surrender your freedom or youth. Remain a free knight.”

I lifted the pewter pitcher from the table. “Let me refill your cup, Milady.”

I thought the choice of chapter title was unusual… Then I remembered that of course the count was lost in the daedric invasion. It makes sense; I agree that Buffy’s in a better position than the countess. Seeing the countess’ attitude, I can say that Kvatch is in good hands.

“But I did not serve your city, Milady. I served the man who freed it.”
For a second there I was worried at this line! Had Sav not captured her heart, she would not have returned with the assistance she had. I wonder if the countess really knows that Buffy would have left them to fight on their own. Either way, she was not offended.

I like the countess’ advice to Buffy at the end. Stay free.

Thanks! Don't mind if I borrow some of those ingredients, will you? .

With no castle, a meeting in a fancy tent would suffice. You were excellent in the descriptions added. Yum, hot stew!

We got to see the contrast between Dame Buffy and the Countess, as the former became a prominant figure through deeds while the latter was simply of birth and title. Don't know why, but I liked that particular moment written. It goes to show though they are different, they share the circumstance of losing a lover. It is sad to see the countess bound by her birthright and I must agree with her voicing of not allowing a destroyed city as Kvatch be rebuilt into a scum-infested town. That would be the last thing those people needed.

We conclude with reassuring words from the countess and Buffy's path as a free knight. Will Buffy continue, I must wonder.

Oh, that made me chuckle... ...

Another fantastic chapter...Another so full of emotion from two united by loss...

Or summat... ...

And bless the countess with the new serving girl...Love that touch of still being in touch with reality to her...Not all high and mighty...*Salutes*...Wonderful character...

Love it...Brilliant stuff...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

The new court is certainly nice-looking, especially given the circumstances. What a very neat twist to learn that the Countess of Anvil was the niece of Count Goldwine.

Remembering my Leyawiin lessons of ‘less is better’ when addressing high nobles,
This was a wonderful little reminder of Buffy's introduction to knighthood, and dealing with Counts and Countesses.

The Countess was as I imagined her to be. At once polite and kind, while at the same time direct and not at all unused to command. I think Kvatch will do well under her leadership. Her frank discussion of the line of succession was an eye-opener. Gellius Terentus as Count Kvatch? That sounds worse than the Daedra!

I love Countess Odalys’ kind but firm manner with her attendants. What a frightening prospect to have a skooma addict next in the line of succession. That sounds like a real assassination motivator.

“Then you understand that only one thing will relieve me of my throne. Many more of my years are behind than ahead of me, so death will come soon enough. Loneliness welcomes the prospect, even as my concern for the future of Kvatch dreads it.” She squeezed my hand before releasing it. “But your path is not so constrained, dear. I hope now that you can understand my envy. Do not surrender your freedom or youth. Remain a free knight.”

Here are some more things that Buffy probably needed to hear. These quiet episodes have been so comforting to read. The pieces are there, and I'm sure that our broken bowgirl will (in her own due time) put them together.

ROFL !!!


Sorry, Acadian - the above is all I had so far on my comment, but I haven't finished reading yet. (only got as far as the serving of the stew, lol).

I could barely get halfway through the chapter before my dog's going nuts on each other ruined my ability to concentrate. As I found out later today, the problem was Dixie not feeling good. She was snapping at anyone canine that got near her. Her heart was the worst today that I've seen it in a long time. I am fretting just hoping she makes it through the night, just can't concentrate to read.

I'll be back tomorrow to give Miss Buffy a proper read (barring any canine cardiac complications). <3

Loved the mutual assessment of both Countess Caro and Terentius's son, found myself in agreement with both, lol.

I agree with Grits, these are words Buffy had to hear. Otherwise I see her staying there and antagonizing her suffering just to be in the same place she last saw Matias. Also that the Countess needed to be firm with her staff - it seems some of them don't realize they must obey her in the stead of the Count now that he is dead. Awesome Write !!

What a wonderful chapter.

I was highly curious about the Countess's intentions with Buffy, and It was lovely to see her being so polite and respectful of our dear dame.

It was also wonderful that Buffy was able to talk through her grief with someone of recent similarity; again, just what Buffy needed.

This particular quote from the Countess spoke a feeling of overwhelming joy to me for all the above reasons.



I also couldn't get a certain Red-Headed 'Desperate Housewife' out of my head when it came to the countess. I don't know why, just some of her mannerisms. I loved it

Great work and, again, can't wait for more!

Given a choice between Farwill and Gellius, anyone (except their respective fathers) would pick neither. I'm not sure Regulus wouldn't do the same.

Has Odalys selected the heavy pewter to give Buffy's recovering arm a workout?

I do enjoy reading about Buffy's ignorance of Feudalistic Politics. It makes her feel more real.

Buffy dined alone with Countess Odalys Goldwine in Episode 174. The pair of nobles quietly shared some of their grief. Buffy learned the Countess was not only well-informed, but strongly driven by a sense of duty to her city. Lady Odalys expressed envy over Buffy’s freedom as a knight errant and urged her not to surrender it.

Only the final two episodes of Buffy's book remain ahead of her now.

KC- Thank you. I agree that Countess Odalys, like Buffy, fully rates her title and that Kvatch is in good hands. Sense of duty to cities, empires or even guilds doesn’t quite click with Buffy; the obligations she feels are to individuals that she cares about.

Darkness Eternal- I was delighted and honored to see the use of some of Buffy’s personal care alchemical ingredients/recipes recently in your wonderful vampire story! I believe the Countess recognized the ‘butterfly’ in Buffy and her advice to remain a free knight was probably wise. I’m so glad you enjoyed both the similarities and differences between Odalys and Buffy.

McBadgere- Thanks for mentioning Isabel! I hope you can agree that Moira might not have been a proper bait appropriate for duty as a lady’s maid.

SubRosa- I loved having the Countess give us a peek at the three oldest children of Cyrodiil’s rulers and finding them all lacking. And thank you for recalling the details of how Buffy was knighted in Leyawiin and what she learned as a member of that city’s court about navigating and even flourishing in the treacherous waters of nobility.

Grits- I’m so glad you found Odalys up to her role as I hoped you would, and am pleased for the insights she was able to share with Buffy. I agree that our epilogue has been quiet and somewhat reflective as Buffy tries to sort things out – I’m so glad you approve. I agree that the pieces are now all there for Buffy to forge her interim path.

mALX- Thank you for picking up on how well our Countess understood her wood elven dinner guest. ‘Granting leave’ to the young knight is probably just what Buffy needed to hear. I believe you recognize the implications; they will take center stage in this next episode.

Rihanae- I’m glad the Countess’ intentions regarding Buffy were a mystery until she revealed them. I believe both ladies benefited from the inspiration that each brought to the table. Thank you!

ghastley- Heh, the offspring of Cyrodiil’s rulers seem to be . . . rather a defective lot, yes?

Zalphon- Thank you. Buffy is gradually learning how to fit in as a low level noble when she has to. She learned much at dinner.



Superian began to turn away from the graveyard - just as I had asked her to do during each of our morning rides since my discharge from the chapel. This time however, I surprised the mare by coaxing her closer.

Leaning far forward, I embraced the warmth of her long neck from my waist to cheek and whispered toward one of her long ears, “Give me strength and wisdom.” I then slipped to the ground and walked among the rows of new stones that bore the names of nearly half Savlian’s army.

One marker proclaimed the shared grave of Arielle Jurard and her strong but quiet mate, Roliand Hanus. Another was adorned with the words: ‘Ilend Vonius, Kvatch’. The one above Calvaria’s resting place silently testified that she was from Chorrol. ‘Arturo Vertius, Brother of Talos’ was chiseled on the stone of Baurus’ fellow Blade. In the very center of the tombstone formation, I knelt by the one that read: ‘Savlian Matius, Hero of Kvatch’.

Opening a small pouch that contained dried seeds from the dragon’s tongue flower that Savlian had given me after our first argument, I planted them over my fallen hero. “I-I’m trying to do what you told me to and go on with my life. So much of me wishes that you had let me go with you.” I gently squeezed my waterskin over the freshly planted seeds.

“He’s traveled the Dreamsleave,” said Acadian. “We are now part of his past, just as he is part of ours. Words are of scant comfort, Buffy, but I’m sorry.”

“I sense that you know firsthand what it feels like to lose a beloved mate, my paladin.”

“Aye,” he replied quietly.

“When is it supposed to stop hurting?”

“Over time, the ache and tears can transition to sad smiles over cherished memories, but the empty spot in your heart will remain.”

“I’m not dealing with this very well, am I?” Before he could reply, I continued, “When I see the strength of Countess Odalys as she deals with her loss, and the resilient spirit of young Moria, I feel. . . lacking and convicted of self-pity.”

“Do not measure your path against those of others, for yours is as unique as you are. Know however, that I fully share it and you will never walk alone. I encouraged you to follow your dreams, and must confess guilt over the outcome.” After several quiet moments he added, “Do you want me to take you away from this?”

I remembered Acadian speaking of our many shared pasts. “The price would include forsaking my precious memories of Savlian, would it not?”

“That is correct. Your scars would join countless others that I carry for us. You would remember nothing of this life.”

“Then my answer is no, Acadian. I-I am not ready to leave his memory behind.”

“Your decision does not surprise me, Buffy, but you cannot continue to flounder here. Everything about Kvatch screams painful memories of Savlian, yet his spirit does not reside in this place.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Place your hand on his tombstone.”

I did so.

“Can you feel his warmth?”

“No,” I replied, blinking back tears.

“Fill your hands now with the dirt of Savlian’s grave.”

I spread my fingers and dug them into the rich mountain loam at my knees, careful not to disturb the seeds I had just planted. “I cannot feel his presence here.” Tears were now openly streaming down my cheeks. “Y-you’re right, Acadian. Just as his scent no longer permeates the bedding we shared. I understand your meaning now. The place his memory dwells is my heart. And with your help, my heart will go on. All that remains in Kvatch are constant reminders of dashed dreams. Only when I sleep do those dreams still live. Only then can I see his smile or feel the magic of his touch.”

“I’m sorry, my bowgirl. Short of the offer you have declined, I know not how to absorb your pain.”

“Some wounds can’t be healed, Acadian; I have learned that lesson all too well here. Every time I walk past what used to be our tent or even see a wolf surcoat, I have to fight back tears. Perhaps we never should have come to Kvatch. Then at least maybe Savlian would still be alive. My quest was a failure.”

“Was it, Buffy? Savlian ached for a free city and the love of an elf who believed in him. You delivered on both counts. Regardless, as Countess Odalys said, you are not bound here.”

“Your bowgirl is broken in more ways than one. I don’t know if I can ever be fixed, but I agree that we can’t stay here, my paladin. I will carry Savlian’s headband forever, but we must leave Kvatch. I’ll talk with Sigrid and make arrangements.” I rose to my feet. “We’ll leave before dawn tomorrow.”

* * *

As soon as the weight of full saddlebags settled behind the cantle of Superian’s saddle, she snorted. The resultant burst of her breath instantly cooled into visible mist under the waning twin moons. “Yes, this ride is much earlier and longer than our morning trips around the upper plateau.”

As I continued to lash traveling supplies to her saddle, she wasn’t the only one to cue on the significance. Turning at the gentle bump against my upper back, I found the lowered nose of Raxle in my face. The Legion bay then nudged me aside to investigate every aspect of the trappings now adorning my mare’s saddle.

“Superian and I will miss you and we both owe you much.” I patted the gelding’s neck then continued to load my mare. “Long ago, you carried Lucilius Marcus to Kvatch, easing Savlian’s heavy burden of command. As things are settling down for the city, I’m pleased to see Lucilius riding you several times a week now. In fact, he tells me that, along with Merandil and Sigrid, you are among his most trusted advisors.” Indeed, Raxle had also been a patient and affectionate companion to Superian during our time at Kvatch. And of course, the old warhorse had carried Savlian by my side to and from Fort Agarctova and Valenwood during the happiest time of my life.

I was thankful for the predawn solitude as I blinked back tears. Preparing to travel with neither quiver nor Slayer on my back felt vulnerable. The once mighty bow had been shattered beyond repair and only its salvaged handgrip was in my pack. Oleta had also reminded me that my left arm would need a couple more weeks before subjecting it to the stresses of shooting. I had no idea how much longer it would be before my heart would let me pick up a bow again. I would just have to rely on my magic, rings of detect life and Superian’s great speed to keep us alive for now.

After a sad kiss on Raxle’s long nose, I briefly augmented my strength with a spell so I could mount Superian without overusing my left arm. Once I settled into the saddle, Raxle blocked our path until he and Superian had rubbed the sides of their heads together. With a snort of his own, the gelding then stood down. I could clearly sense that Superian was torn between her excitement to be on the road and reluctance to leave Raxle. A whispered, “Let’s go, girl,” convinced her to step off.

We had barely cleared the stable area before she stopped, turned a lowered head and stared back at her old friend. I didn’t relish another painful round of goodbyes from the early risers who would soon be up and about, but I was not about to overly rush the mare. After a few moments of mournful staring between the horses, Superian bobbed her head and resumed our departure.

As we began the winding descent from the top of Kvatch Mountain, I could sense Acadian’s question as well as his reluctance to ask it. “My beautiful mare and paladin,” I announced, “when the sun rises shortly, it will warm the left shoulder of this Child of Dawn. By late this day, it will be kissing our right side.”

“South it is then, my bowgirl,” replied Acadian.

Buffy has finally healed enough to visit the grave of the Hero of Kvatch. You are doing a wonderful job of showing us how she is slowly getting better, not just physically, but especially emotionally. I find it is one of the most difficult things to write, since it is so easy to become heavy-handed about it. But you handle it all with a light touch that gives us just enough for us to fill in the rest with our own imaginations.

South it is then. As painful as much of this episode was, it was also very cathartic. Now that she leaves Kvatch behind her, our Buffster can start to move on, however slowly. I wonder if she cannot resist stopping at Fort Agarctova just once before heading on? Then will it be to Valenwood? Or back home to Bravil? As interesting as Valenwood sounds. I think Bravil, with Daenlin, Kud-Ei, and all of her friends, would be a better place right now.

I have to agree that Bravil is a likely destination for this trip. She needs a new bow, so she'd at least consult with Daenlin, even if he's not making her an interim one. Although a side-trip to see Alawen wouldn't be too much of a detour, she needs to stay on the roads to be safe.

I like the bit where it's Superian reluctant to leave Raxle behind. It takes the wanting to stay off Buffy's shoulders.

This was an amazing chapter. It was heartwarming to see Buffy finally visit the grave of Savlian, and with Acadian helping to give her the strength she needs to start to move on.

I also agree that Bravil would be best for Buffy right now. As she slowly moves on and heals it is better that she does that in the company of dear loved ones. I'm certain Buff will be fine in time, but she should spend that time in the comfort of her home.

Buffy’s finally finds it within her to visit the grave stones of the fallen. The city paid dearly with the blood of its men and women. Sav’s stone was simple and beautiful, perfect for him. Hero of Kvatch. She finally realizes she needs to leave. It was nice to see Raxle come say goodbye to Superian. Buffy leaves in the early morning before anyone can delay her. South it is, to the comfort of her city and guild?

Remembering the fallen can be hard, but it is necessary to move on. Hopefully Buffy can move on.

“He’s traveled the Dreamsleave,” said Acadian. “We are now part of his past, just as he is part of ours. Words are of scant comfort, Buffy, but I’m sorry.”

An incredibly painful thing to even face much less accept. I’ve never seen this thought more beautifully put.

“Do not measure your path against those of others, for yours is as unique as you are. Know however, that I fully share it and you will never walk alone. I encouraged you to follow your dreams, and must confess guilt over the outcome.” After several quiet moments he added, “Do you want me to take you away from this?”

Oh my gosh, that’s right. On top of the grief, Acadian has been feeling guilty! Buffy’s answer was no surprise, of course, and hopefully was some comfort.

“South it is then, my bowgirl,” replied Acadian.

South! Perhaps to visit where she spent the happiest time of her life? I hear they know something about bows in Valenwood…

I have to say, in my (ho) this is your absolute best write to date. This chapter was as perfect as it gets, and to quote anything that stood above the rest I'd have to quote it in its entirety. Acadian's offer was brought totally from the heart, but a shock I didn't expect - HUGE! It showed Buffy's strength that she turned it down. She is not one to hide unless attacking. Raxle's goodbye was icing on the cake. Awesome, AWESOME Write !!!!

Oh my, so this is the conclusion of this amazing story? Or is there more?

Acadian, I remove my hat and bow before you. This truly was a sad chapter, and it made it more intense because I was listening to a tragic song from a soundtrack.

"Over time, the ache and tears can transition to sad smiles over cherished memories, but the empty spot in your heart will remain.”
Her emotional injuries will heal, but there will be scars that will never vanish.

"You’re right, Acadian. Just as his scent no longer permeates the bedding we shared. I understand your meaning now. The place his memory dwells is my heart. And with your help, my heart will go on. All that remains in Kvatch are constant reminders of dashed dreams. Only when I sleep do those dreams still live. Only then can I see his smile or feel the magic of his touch.”

Another sad, heartfelt moment. And to think Savlian passed into Aetherius is a horrible thing to ponder on indeed. I honestly felt a bit negative about it, so it is safe to say I had my reasons.

The conclusion of this story had me reading word for word with a glint in my eye as I envisioned the scenes through and through. Buffy may move on, but memories of Savlian will always be there somewhere, deeply rooted in the depths of her mind. I do feel as if her next journeys will be brighter somehow, but I can't help but wonder . . . will Buffy ever be the same? Most likely, not. What she has braved and toughed and experienced indeed has molded our fellow archer into something a bit different.

Oh my...That was amazing...

Wow...Definately my favourite writing of yours...And I've liked quite a bit...Soo sad and heartfelt... ...

Not sure which bits to quote as affecting me so much...Just brilliant...

I shall depart from my normal sign-off...

*Respectful bowing of head*...

What a wonderful bittersweet story you have crafted! Buffy has traveled a path of growth and change, and the butterfly has come forth to full, fragile, believable maturity.

In the process, you've managed to change and build a host of the game's flat but familiar characters, turning them into people as well. We'll never be able to see Savlian (or Mazoga or a hundred other characters) in quite the same way, and we're all the richer for it.

I can hardly wait to see what's next in Buffy's adventures.

I love this story, you've managed to make Buffy's journey so believable and touching. And it was so sad to read of Savlian's death when they'd both come to mean so much for each other. I'm glad that Buffy is able to move on, I imagine even getting out of bed in the morning is one of the hardest things she's faced with. To know that you have such a long life ahead of you, but that the one person you want in it can never be by your side again.

I think you pictured her sorrow perfectly, and very much hope that we'll get to continue following her as she learns to live her life without him.

In our penultimate episode (175), Buffy mustered the courage to visit Savlian’s gravesite. It seems her paladin was also finally ready to discuss their future and pasts. Both agreed that leaving Kvatch was best. While departing the following morning, Superian echoed her mistress’ anticipation to be on the road as well as her anxiety over leaving friends behind. Buffy’s only clue to her immediate destination was ‘south’.

SubRosa- Thank you so much for your kind words. It is soothing to hear that we have not overdone the pity party. It took her a very long time to get to this point and, given the strength of her passions, it is taking her a long time to slowly put herself back together.

ghastley- I join you in expecting that Buffy’s wonderful friends in Bravil will play a role in her longer term future. Thanks for enjoying the part with Raxle.

Rihanae- Thank you! I think it was appropriate that, in visiting Savlian’s grave, Buffy leaned on her twin pillars of Superian and Acadian for strength.

KC- I’m so glad that you agree ‘Hero of Kvatch’ is all the title Savlian needs. I firmly believe that when it comes to a noble selfless hero, he is the gritty real deal. My hope with Raxle was to, once again, show some ‘full circling’ since it was the old warhorse who carried Kvatch’s future commander (Lucilius Marcus) to the city.

Zalphon- Thanks for your well wishes. Although she doesn’t see it yet, I believe our elf has the strength to move on.

Grits- Thank you so much for noting Acadian’s guilt. After all, it was his ‘I hope you dance’ philosophy that helped coax Buffy into Savlian’s arms. That said, I expect someday she will come to believe that the dance was worth its cost.

mALX- I’m glad you and Buffy both considered the impact of Acadian’s offer to move on together to a new life. As we are drawing the book down, I wanted to reinforce the nature of their coexistence.

LL - Welcome to Buffy’s world! I so appreciate your kind words. Yes, we are winding down Buffy’s Book 1. We’ll certainly take a break for a time as we consider her future. The previous four threads (or volumes) of Book 1 along with an executive summary and fun little thread I call ‘Buffy’s Basket of Potpourri’ can be found in our subforum right here at chorrol.

McBadgere- It thrills me to hear that parts of our story have touched your heart. Thank you for your warm support.

Glargg- So wonderful of you to stop in! I appreciate your warm words and am so delighted that, as you play, hints of Buffy’s Savlian, Mazoga and others have infiltrated your game.

Saquira- Thank you so much for your touching endorsement of how Buffy has shared her emotions. She does indeed wear them on her sleeve for all to put up with.

All- Having sprawled across three years, two forums and 300,000 words, it is finally time for Buffy to close Book 1.



Seated cross-legged on the soft ground, I licked my lips while tossing the empty shell of a crab’s claw into the fire. A small protest of embers and sparks leaped into the night sky. “Superian, grazing is good here in Valenwood and the Strid River’s bounty is sweet. What if we just stay here living like wild children of the forest?”

Water from the nearby river’s edge trailed from my mare’s mouth as she raised her head, returned my gaze and contentedly flicked one ear. It was the paladin who answered, “Until you run out of hair conditioner?”

I heaved a sigh. “You’re right. We’ll have to move on. . . j-just not yet.”

“Only when you are ready, Buffy.”

“And when we do. . . well, you know I left my confidence in a pool of blood, pee and tears on the floor of Castle Kvatch. I-I’m sorry I’m not a very strong elf, Acadian. It’s not fair to subject you to the kind of mundane life that I imagine will claim this grieving widow.”

“Although I believe you to be more resilient than you credit yourself, I am willingly bound and sworn to your service. We were created long before the formation of Nirn. In all that time, I have never counted the cost of what your needs might entail. I will readily share whatever your future requires.”

I was struck by the power of my paladin’s words and the unconditional acceptance they conveyed. He might sometimes guide or chide me but, by Mara, he always believed in me and I sure needed that now. Although I might never experience the comfort of pulling his arm around my shoulder, I realized that neither time nor even death could take him from me. “You and I will go on, Acadian, bound together as we have always been. Although I feel like a butterfly in a tempest, you have taught me that the spirit of a dragon lives forever. Perhaps, with your help, Daenlin and Boderi can forge this broken bowgirl back into a mystic archer. . . someday.”

“I understand,” he offered gently. “You and Savlian paid a high price for Kvatch’s freedom. Grieving cannot be rushed, and you have chosen this spot well.”

I looked up at the same moons and stars that had witnessed the joyful lovemaking between a hero and his elf in this very meadow. Reaching into my pack, I pulled out my journal and thumbed through its many pages until finding the passage I sought:

’I awoke to gentle fingers trailing through my hair. Glowing embers, twin moons and countless stars punctuated the night that had gathered around us. After a tender kiss, we pulled each other to our feet. While briefly checking the horses, I studied the beautiful man’s scars and muscles as he added wood to our campfire and stirred life into the flames. I wanted to remember this moment forever.’

Slowly closing the book with a bittersweet smile, I pulled myself to my feet. After briefly checking my precious mare, I added wood to our campfire and stirred life into the flames. “Yes, Savlian Matius. I will remember.”

I then lifted my voice in song: Fallen Embers

Oooh, and there it was - gone!...

Nicely ended there...All hope...

Lovely story...Here's hoping for Book 2 soon...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

PS...I Will Remember...Queensryche?...Or is it in the link that I haven't yet explored?... ..

Sorry, can't be "wild children of the forest" and use hair conditioner.

I'm glad to see her doing her grieving on a full stomach, too. It may be a private wake, but she's doing it right.

And now a new beginning?

I should have known. The river’s edge where she and Sav spent their time before. Beautiful end to book one. Buffy still underestimates Acadian’s incredible patience. Take your time, elf, he will be there. I will miss Buffy. Fantastic end to Buffy’s tale of Kvatch and Savlian.

The last paragraph echoing Buffy’s journal entry was such an achingly beautiful way to close Book 1. What a marvelous journey that brought her finally back to this riverbank. I am left with my own bittersweet smile and hope for Buffy’s future.

First, perfect song.

“Until you run out of hair conditioner?”
I suppose riding into the sunset is out of the question then. Seriously, this piece of wry humor was muchly appreciated

This was a good place to end Book 1, in the place where Buffy found her happiest moments. We can be content to leave her here, reliving her fond, if still painful, memories of the past. Until we see what next lies in store for our bruised bowgirl that is.