Author notes: While trying to work around a block for another story, I reread the original version of this one and realized that it could be improved, both in style and about how the plot worked. Here is the result and I will continue to rewrite the next chapters of the original story, expanding and continuing, as it seems my muse needs variety.

This is a crossover with my favorite Dungeon and Dragons setting (more about it at the end of the chapter) and starts during 'Anne' (beginning of season 3) for the Buffyverse timeline. The non-Buffyverse characters are either official NPC from that campaign setting or OC that will sometimes be recycled versions of some of my old PC.

The old version of this story is currently used as second story of this series. I have left it as is.

Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding the following fandoms:

- Buffyverse

- Various D&D settings

- The following stories, while not constituting a full crossover, have been cited and used in part: The Shadow, Saint Seiya, Marvel universe, Sandman, the Metabarons universe, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Rating: FR21 / M

Thanks to Narsil for the wonderful work he did proofreading this story


"I'm Buffy Summers," she said, rather annoyed by the 'You're no one' speech the bearded demon had given to the assembled human slaves.

Slaves… Buffy remembered how she had started her investigations on the 'Family Home' shelter for teenage runaways and discovered how they disappeared. She had finally followed the demon in charge of the shelter through a kind of dirty pool that led… elsewhere. The little problem was that 'elsewhere' was not a place on Earth.

It didn't look that different from some places on Earth she had heard about, but somehow she just knew. Something in the subterranean complex felt wrong. Its rock walls just felt too metallic, the lights too grey and bleak and… she could feel it in her soul. The whole place had a way to worm into your mind. It whispered to you that conforming, obeying was the thing to do and that resistance was futile.

In other words, this place just irked her and fueled her natural tendencies to give the finger to authorities, be they human or demonic. That was why she was now busy using every ounce of her Slayer abilities to fight the guards.

She quickly realized that she had a problem. The demons here were of two species. The bulk of the guards were made of three feet tall, spine-covered winged gargoyles. They were not such an issue strength-wise, though their sharp claws and ability to create small magical flames were annoying. The ones she dubbed the 'sergeants' were more impressive. They were buff, covered in scales and with a beard made of small barbs. The real problem was their equipment and fighting style.

She had to admit that most of the demons she had faced so far had been… brawlers. Sunnydale's typical vamps were not very smart and rushed forward with no sense of tactics. Despite what some of her acquaintances liked to think, her capacity to outwit them had been a key factor in her success as a Slayer. Surviving encounters was a lot easier when you conned the enemy into doing half the work. These ones, on the other hand, were disciplined soldiers who knew very well how to use their polearms and fight as squads. She had managed to hold her own so far, but an easy victory was out of question.

As much as I hate it… I will have to consider fleeing without saving anyone.

She shifted slightly in her stance, becoming more defensive while she started to look for escape routes, hopefully one that would get her back to the portal.

"Interesting," said a voice coming from the hall that had quite unfortunately been her best bet so far. "It seems that we've got ourselves a warrior."

Buffy did her best not to flinch as she saw the demon come out of the shadows. Compared to him… well, in fact she had faced nothing comparable to it. It was big, maybe three meters high and was like the other 'locals' covered in reddish, metallic-looking scales. It had large reptilian wings and many great horns on its head. Despite its size, it did not move heavily or clumsily, but with a kind of deadly grace. In fact, it managed to make all the things she had encountered during her Slayer career look like pathetic half-breeds.

The demon uncoiled a metallic, barbed whip while she shifted to full defense, having absolutely no desire to be hit by that weapon. The demon struck, almost impossibly fast and she barely managed to dodge by maneuvering behind one of the 'sergeants', using it as a demonic shield. The sergeant fell, its torso shredded open by the unholy lash, confirming her thought: being hit meant… major bad.

"You show cunning," said the demon, its fanged smile horrible. "I will enjoy reshaping you into my faithful pet."

Buffy fought the urge for a snarky retort. She needed all of her wits to maneuver, to use the terrain to her biggest advantage. A look had been sufficient to know that she had nothing able to wound that creature. Short of the rocket launcher they had used against the Judge a few months ago, she knew of nothing that could go through it. Flight was the only viable option.

She was in position to reach a minor hall, one that was too small for the demon when she bumped her head against something. Slightly dazed, she felt the whip strike her back. All her muscles tensed immediately, leaving her tetanized by the shock. She had barely enough sense to see that the small hall… had never existed. The illusion that led her to believe in its presence faded as the demon snapped its fingers. In fact, it was all the points that made her choose precisely this escape route that were disappearing.

"Got it… you're a smart demon…"

She felt its huge hand lifting her to face him.

"You have good tactical instincts, but little training in how to use them, my pet. We will change this, once you are properly housebroken. But first…"

He touched her with one of his claws and she screamed as electricity ran through her body.

"This is for calling me a demon. I am a Baatezu of the Cornugon caste."


She was not sure how much time had passed… more than enough to feel completely unclean that was sure. What she was sure of was that all that she had known in the time since the Cornugon caught her was pain. It had not been continuous or sufficiently numbing that her mind could break and allow her to slip into a blissful catatonia. The Baatezu were much too expert in this matter to give her any reprieve.

Right now, the pain she was facing was the one of despair. As often happened she was alone, chained naked in a cold, damp cell. The chains were not necessary at this point, at least not to restrict her mobility. Her limbs had been broken and healed by magic several times… without ever being set right. The tendons in her ankles and shoulders had also been cut and the wounds closed. The devils delighted in seeing her being forced to eat and drink like a dog… well, when she felt like obliging them.

They had defiled her almost completely. Her body was broken, any inkling of purity torn away. Her flesh was scarified with unholy drawings covering her from head to toe. Even though putting them in place had hurt like… hell, she knew that they had other purposes. There was magic in them. She was not sure of everything but she knew very well one of their effects. They kept her alive, preventing her from escaping through death. Even starvation did not manage to weaken her enough to slip into a coma. Sleep was likewise forbidden to her. The blasted things kept her just strong enough to 'enjoy' the next session.

Yet… she was still resisting. At this point, she did not know if it was just her usual bullheadedness or if she had slipped into pure madness. All that she knew was that she had to resist, even if all it did was to prolong the pain. The thing was that she had something Alastor, the Cornugon who considered himself her master, could not rip out of her. She had to give it to him willingly.

"Why do you still resist?" asked a voice she knew all too well.

Buffy did not want to look at the teen standing in the cell's entrance. She scented the girl's perfume and had little doubt that she was all dolled up now. The Slayer also knew what had been paid in exchange for this.

She remembered the girl's name… or rather names. The first time she had met her, she was Chantarelle, a naïve girl who thought vampires were misunderstood loners. Buffy had saved her and the others of her clique, preventing them from becoming another barbecue fork incident when her former friend Ford decided to offer Spike a willing meal. Later, the Slayer met her again in Los Angeles. She was calling herself Lily then. It was through her that Buffy came to the Family Home shelter.

She thanked the fact her throat was too sore to do more than croak. It gave her a perfect excuse not to answer her.

"A little signature and I'm sure Master will get you back in shape…"

Buffy closed her eyes. She did not expect anyone else to stand the amount of torture she had gone through, but Lily… Lily had fallen into the most insidious trap of this place. Just a little signature on that contract, a promise to behave and your life will be easier… Good slaves had privileges and they could even earn their freedom. All they had to do was to sign.

Thanks to the mess with Eyghon and Angelus back in Sunnydale, the Slayer knew too much about pacts and souls even to consider the thing. Her soul was the last thing she owned. What the slaves who signed didn't realize was that any freedom they would win, even being returned to Earth... what was it really worth when death would condemn you to eternity in Hell?

She looked at Lily, seeing the inverted pentagram she wore on her choker. She saw also her eyes. There was a hardness in them that had not been there before. It was still new, shaky, something that was slowly eating the nice girl she had been. Lily was not 'soul fodder' like the others. She knew enough to understand what she had sold but had decided to become a willing minion of Hell.

Buffy resisted the urge to sigh. Lily had chosen Evil and, knowing the Baatezu, she would soon lose everything that was good in her. She wondered if the girl would be used to operate another shelter, elsewhere on Earth, leading other teens to their fall.

"I'm leaving with Master tomorrow," said Lily. "He told me to tell you that if you do not yield when he's back, things will get worse, a lot worse. As you don't seem to care about your own life, he will see how much you value the lives of others. Buffy… that may mean he will fetch people from… there."

The Slayer looked at the damned girl, straight in the eyes. She knew. Lily had told Alastor about her life in Sunnydale. After the door closed, leaving her alone in the darkness, she started to sob.


She was stirred from her brooding by the sound of thunder. She could hear the Baatezu raise the alarm and run towards the aggressor. She wondered if it was that other fiendish race they were at war with: the Tanar'ri. The Cornugon had explained the basics of the Blood War to her, how Baator had to defeat the filth of the Abyss to bring order to the Multiverse.

Buffy had quickly realized that the Baatezu's order would probably make Earth's totalitarian regimes look tame. Even if those Tanar'ri were chaotic forces of destruction, she found herself…

Better not to hope too much… that blasted thing found the chink in my armor. When he comes back, I will have to…

She could not stand the thought of her mother or her friends being tortured as she had. Protecting them from the Slayer's madness had been one of her reasons for leaving after all. There was no escape, no hope. All she could do was submit.

"Hurry up!" yelled one of the 'sergeants' from the hall, "We have to… Aargh!"

"Surprise!" said a mirthful female voice while the Baatezu gargled, choking on his own blood.

Buffy wondered who could do that so easily. She knew from experience that the 'sergeants' – or rather Barbazu – were no pushovers.

"In the name of Sune, I compel you! Begone foul creature!" said another female voice.

Buffy felt something impinge on her Slayer senses. It was not a demon. It felt… warm and full of light. She heard voices she knew belonged to some of the basic guards – Spinagons if she remembered Alastor's lessons correctly – scream as if burnt.

"Those were the last ones, I think," said the voice that Buffy dubbed the 'Shakespearian' one.

"Seems like it, Viviane. Now let me open this door so that we can see this 'special prisoner'," replied the mirthful voice.

She heard someone fiddling with the lock.

"Mandor!" said the mirthful voice. "There are explosive runes here. Do you still have enough juice to dispel them?"

"Probably, Morgan," said a male voice as a new set of footsteps approached.

Viviane, Morgan and Mandor… two women and a man speaking English with a strange accent… that is not the one of the Baatezu.

She heard the man incant something in a language that was maybe German.

"Done," he said in a tired voice.

"Thanks. I'm not too keen on ending up in the dead-book so soon. Now… you have to love Baatezu… not like that, Viviane! I mean, they create such deliciously twisted locks," said Morgan. "Here, poisoned gas trap disarmed and door unlocked."

The door opened and Buffy squinted to adjust her eyesight to the light. A woman in black leather was standing in the entrance, verifying details in the floor and walls.

No, not human…

The woman actually looked like the demons she was used to in Sunnydale. She had black, curly hair with ears that pointed out of it at the top of her head and short fur with a pattern reminiscent of a tiger. Her eyes continued the trend, without any visible white, orange irises and a tendency to glow in the dark like those of a cat. She also had a striped tail. Her clothes however were unusual. Her leather was not the biker clothes she would have seen in Sunnydale. It was an armor made of pieces of rigid boiled leather reinforced with metallic pieces over vital spots. She also envied the two finely crafted short swords the demon catgirl was wearing on her back.

Behind her was standing a man in clothes that were right out of a swashbuckling movie. They were mostly black, with gold and royal blue as secondary colors. However, Buffy was not fascinated by the clothes, but by the man himself. At first glance, he looked like a clean-shaven, blond, blue-eyed human with his hair in a short ponytail. At second glance, he looked just as human as the tiger girl did. His face was just… too perfect, his colors too vibrant. It was as if ambient light rose one degree just by his sole presence. In many ways, he was just as intimidating as the demon girl was.

He took a black gem shaped like a jackal head and looked at her through it. Buffy thought she heard him muttering words in ancient Egyptian.

"Her soul is still hers," he said.

"Good," said the tiger girl. "I'm Morgan. I just want to unlock your chains."

She took lock picks out of a sheath at her belt and started to work.

"So," she asked. "What's your name?"

"B… Buffy," she managed to croak.

"Poor child," said the Shakespearean voice.

Buffy took in the second woman and wondered briefly if she was hallucinating. Morgan was somewhat understandable and she had known some old vampires with tastes in clothing similar to Mandor's. Viviane, on the other hand… the woman was a rather buff human of what some would have called a typical 'Irish redhead' type. She had perfect milky skin and hair that was like a waterfall of fiery curls. The little issue Buffy had was her clothes, or rather the full, bright pink knight armor she was wearing, complete with shield and golden arming sword.

"Let me try to help you," said Viviane, smiling gently to her.

The knight laid her hands on her skin and Buffy felt a warmth seeping from them, bringing back some life to her broken body.

"I am sorry I cannot do more," continued the woman. "There are many curses laid on you. I am glad to see that you did not fall to the darkness. I am Viviane Ravenwood, from Eveningstar on the world of Toril. And you're Buffy, right?"

The Slayer had to smile, wondering what kind of lives those people had lived to feel the need to tell which world they came from when introducing themselves.

"Yes… Buffy Summers, from Earth."

"A nice name… Mandor, can you do something about those curses?"

"Maybe, once I have rested and analyzed them, Viviane."

"Thanks. The gorgeous hunk here is Mandor von Schwanstein. He comes from a place called Glantri on the world of Mystara," said Viviane. "We're both 'primes' which means that we come from 'normal' worlds, contrarily to Morgan who was born here, among the Outer Planes."

"He doesn't… feel human."

"I'm not," said the man, "at least not completely. I am an aasimar, meaning that… let's say I have some Celestial blood to keep things simple. I know you are wondering if this is another of their traps. You have my word that this is not the case. We killed all the Baatezu in the compound."

"All… all of them?"

"We killed those that were here," said Morgan. "The devil-in-chief took a part of the staff with him when he left."

"My… my world. Have to…"

"Do you fear that they went to your world to fetch more captives?" asked Mandor.

Buffy nodded weakly.

"Then have no fear. We timed our attack to coincide with the quarterly report the Cornugon has to give to his hierarchy. We also blocked the portal he used to go to Baator, so we have a little time."

She gave a little laugh and immediately regretted it as her maimed lungs changed it into a cough. It was true that the Baatezu thrived on such clichés as 'bureaucratic hell'. The chains finally gave way as Morgan freed her completely. Viviane lifted her frail shell in her arms while Mandor used a kind of pipette to let a drop of quicksilver fall on the ground. Her eyes widened as the drop stopped a foot above said ground and expanded to form a five-foot diameter disk. The female knight gently deposited her on the floating disk and covered her naked body with a blanket.

Buffy did not even think to protest. Her body was completely broken and she was incapable of moving on her own. Besides, anywhere else would be better than here. They progressed through the halls, the floating disk at the center of the group. Suddenly, a woman in golden chainmail came from another hall.

"Any luck with the slaves, Neti?" asked Viviane with a worried voice.

"I'm sorry, but the Baatezu released poison gas in the pens. The only ones that escaped are collaborators. Ergyl and I gave them a merciful death. On the other hand, we found the portal to the Prime that they used."

Buffy took a deep breath, looking at the new woman. On Earth, she would have been of African descent, what some people called a 'café au lait'. Her armor and clothes had a style… Egyptian maybe. She could see the blood on the woman's morning star. She tried to find in herself some pity for those the weapon slew but could not. It had been torn away, like the rest.

"P… portal," she croaked.

The Egyptian woman came and lifted the blanket, examining her. Buffy saw her wince several times, as she traced the magical scars on her skin.

"Listen…"

"Her name is Buffy, Neti," said Morgan.

"Right. You will need a… lot of healing, Buffy. The magic on your body also needs to be undone and we need time for that, time we do not have right now. We can probably find out how the portal is activated and make you cross but… you'll be on your own in your world."

A face flashed through Buffy's mind's eye: Ken. The handler of the shelter was probably still on the other side and she would be helpless. Even more, Alastor might come back at any time. She only had one logical choice, even if it meant never seeing her world again.

"Des… destroy. Baatezu… cannot let them go there."

Neti nodded wearily as she tucked her back under the blanket.

"Ergyl! Blast the thing!" said Morgan.

"Right," replied a flat voice that reminded Buffy of one of her friends back in Sunnydale.

A creature appeared in the hall, holding a necklace made of small spheres. It looked very much like a centaur, of a 'small' variation. The animal part was not the body of a horse, but of a goat. He also had the matching horns. He was clad in brown armor similar to Morgan's leather and his main weapon was a powerful recurve bow similar to the ones used by the Mongols. He plucked three spheres off the necklace and threw them into the room, quickly taking cover along the wall.

Like gren…

An explosion shook the portal room, confirming her thought. The 'goataur' looked in it.

"Portal destroyed."

"Good," said Mandor. "Storm Riders, let's get out of here!"

They made their way out of the complex and Viviane presented the two others as Netikerty, and Ergyl Surearrow. She also learnt that the latter belonged to a people called the bariaurs while Morgan was a tiefling. Soon, cold air with a metallic taste savaged her weakened lungs as she saw the sky for the first time in months. It was not blue, but a bleak grey and she could see floating iron cubes in it.

"We're in Thuldanin, the second layer of Acheron," said Mandor.

The group walked quickly on the iron surface while Buffy tried to rest a little, safely tucked on the floating disk. What happened reminded her of a cartoon she watched as a child, something with a group of teenagers who were spirited to another world and battled a dark wizard called Vengar.

How was it called… Dungeons and… Dragons. I'm with an adventurer group from Dungeons and Dragons.

She resisted the urge to laugh that was rising in her. Her lungs would hurt too much if she tried. Instead, she tried to remember the little she knew about what she had long considered the ultimate nerdy game.

Viviane is some kind of holy knight, Mandor is a wizard, but of the non-robey variety, Morgan a thief, Neti… perhaps some kind of priestess. The cat's head pendant, there is an Egyptian goddess like that. Finally, Ergyl is their ranger, with the way he's scouting before the rest…

They made a quick stop as they reached an arch. Using a scalpel, Neti and Mandor had been working on her scars, altering the designs. Suddenly, she felt something. She was not only tired, but her body was not wired anymore.

"We have undone part of the curse. It will allow you to rest," said Neti.

The broken teen nodded and smiled gently, quickly falling asleep for the first time in a month.


Buffy awoke as someone was shaking her delicately. The first thing she noticed was that she was tucked in a bed, a rather comfortable one even. Back on Earth, the sheets would probably have felt coarse, but after Acheron, she was not one to complain. She was still naked and her limbs still refused to respond but she already felt a little better. Probably the nice, natural sleep had allowed her to get rid of a little of the things poisoning her.

She let the noises of the outside world pour in and the first thing she heard made butterflies flutter in her stomach. She could hear birds singing and something that felt like a typical village activity. People did not talk in a language she recognized but it felt… spontaneous.

And spontaneity is not the Baatezu's strong suit…

She opened her eyes. Hungrily, she turned towards the light. It was good to see the sun again and… all this green she could guess by the window! She felt tears running down her cheeks.

If someone had told me that one day, I would cry just from seeing trees…

Her eyes shifted toward the Egyptian priestess, now wearing a simple white pleated dress and a pectoral and bracers of gold and lapis-lazuli. Somehow, Buffy felt more interested in the ring on her left hand, a simple iron band with an engraved shield.

"Hello," said the priestess, a gentle smile on her lips.

"He…"

She could not finish her address as she started to cough violently. Neti touched her throat, muttering some words in what Buffy supposed to be Ancient Egyptian. Again, she felt that warmth flowing in her. Her eyes followed the priestess as she went to a nearby dressing table and poured some water from a pitcher into a wooden goblet.

The room itself was curious, with walls made of wood. The problem she had with it was that the wood was not assembled planks. It rather looked carved in a single, gigantic piece of wood. The furniture looked rather medieval but she did not care. She was just too happy to be out of Acheron.

Neti made her drink slowly. She savored the water. It felt refreshing, natural. It lacked the metallic taste things always took back in the slave compound.

"Where…"

"You're safe. We're in a place called Arborea, far away from them."

Arborea… while Acheron was a name known in mythology, one of the rivers of Hades if she remembered well, this one said nothing to her.

Or… wasn't that a place with big trees in Flash Gordon? A room in a giant piece of wood? Got it, we're in a tree.

"Can I… have a mirror?"

"It's better not. You have been atrociously tortured and your face is only scar tissue for now. I have bad news and good news."

"Spill…"

The priestess sighed while she played with a lock of her lustrous black hair.

"The curses on your body are very intricate and can be separated into three categories. One was… semi-positive. It kept you alive but also overcharged your body functions, preventing any sleep as if you were on a permanent caffeine rush. As you can guess, the damages caused by it in the end are terrible. Thankfully, this one was easy to break and I was able to do it back in Acheron, allowing you to rest during the trip. The two others are… trickier. One allows you to be located very easily by the devils. We also suppose that it can be used to force you to obey."

"Then why… sorry stupid question. If I had signed their contract under the influence of magic, it would have been void."

"Correct. Our immediate issue, however, is with the third one. It's a spiteful thing. If you are taken away from them, it starts to eat your life force and makes healing almost impossible."

"Typical… If I can't have you, no one will… How long do I have?"

She felt the gaze of the priestess on her. She could feel her sorrow for her.

"Please," said Buffy. "You already did a lot for me. I will die free."

The priestess leaned on her, hugging her.

"No, listen to me, Buffy. You… we took a decision. We refuse to let such courage being wasted. We refuse to let you die… well rather we refuse to let you die permanently."

"So… sorry?"

"That's the good news. We cannot break the curses but we have found a way to trick them. They are linked to your body, not your soul. So… if you agree, we're going to reincarnate you."

Buffy tried to wrap her mind around the utterly outlandish statement. Her logical mind tried to make her acknowledge that it made sense: her body was toast, so she needed a new one. Her instinct of conservation, however…

"You… you're kidding, right? I mean that kind of magic…"

"Is perfectly possible though I cannot do it myself, as reincarnation is rather a druid spell. Listen, you've seen what the Baatezu can do."

She nodded reluctantly. During her stay with the Baatezu, she had seen very powerful magic. Her saviors too had powers unknown to her world. In particular, healing magic was supposed to be…

A lost art. Giles said something about a lot of magical knowledge being lost over the ages.

"Okay, let's admit that's possible. What's the catch?"

"Well, the ritual needs some rather costly components, but as I said, we all agreed to save you, each of us for our own reasons. The other thing is that… you may not be reincarnated as a human."

"You mean… I could end up as a… like your friend the goataur?"

"Bariaur," corrected Neti, smiling. "That's possible but… We don't have time to find another solution. The curses will kill you in a matter of days now."

She nodded wearily, trying to weigh her options, to decide if she wanted to trust these… adventurers.

Like if I hadn't already chosen when I told them to destroy the portal… I'm stuck here now. I might as well make the most of… wait a minute. A new body. Last time I died, it activated Kendra and Giles thought I stayed a Slayer because my body already changed. A new body may mean a clean slate. I would be free to start over without any destiny bullshit.

"Do it," she said, mustering all the confidence she could.

"Very well," said Neti. Just breathe this, it will make you sleep," she continued while uncorking a vial under her nose.


The entity sometimes called the First Slayer felt her host die. This time, it was not a fluke like when her host faced the vampire known as the Master. She could feel the soul depart the body. However, something was not normal in that death. There was magic at work, ancient and drawing deep in the heart of this land. She felt also another source that smelled like… cats.

She looked with interest, seeing delicate pale hands take the small bluish light as it exited Buffy's body. Looking upwards, the Slayer Essence saw a creature that made her shake with a mix of fear and reverence. It was a woman of ethereal beauty, clad in a diaphanous gown that seemed made of dancing moonbeams. She remembered her kind. It had not been seen on Earth for millennia. She remembered what one of her Norse hosts had been taught by a traveling skald about them. She remembered her names. Sehanine Moonbow, the Lady of Dreams, Daughter of the Night Skies, second in power among the elven gods only to her husband Corellon Larethian.

The truth dawned on the Slayer about the curious feelings she had had since a few hours ago. She and her host had been brought to an elven realm and it was Sehanine, as goddess of the elven afterlife, that was welcoming her host's soul among… no, something was wrong. The goddess was breathing on the soul in her cupped hands, kindling its light, as one would have for a small fire. The light was also shifting, from blue to green-tinged moonlight. The goddess lowered her hands, letting the soul flow as a rain of shooting stars, straight into a teenage body that was floating in the fetal position.

The Slayer thought about following, thinking that she could still do great things with her when the cat scent became overwhelming. Spectral bands of hieroglyph-covered linen rose from Buffy's former body and struck her, dragging her back into the broken flesh. Turning, the entity saw that a black cat was sitting on the now mummified body, looking at her with rather irate eyes.

"She is not yours anymore, hunter in darkness," said the cat. "I will not allow you to follow her."

"Bast… she Chosen One."

"Do not anger me, Slayer. I am the Wrath of the Eye of Ra and I can destroy your foul essence. It is only because your presence revealed to me how poorly the Powers That Be managed your world in our stead that I allow you to leave."

The Slayer did something she was not really used to. She started to think, fast. There was menace in Bast's words and not only for herself. Ra would know about the Powers' misdeeds. He would turn his Eye on Earth again.

"But she was good Chosen One… can I make parting gift?" she said, hoping to placate the angry goddess.

"Only if Sehanine approves. She has welcomed the girl after all."

"Buffy always think when fighting. She smart, smarter than people think. I want to give knack to master new weapons."

The Slayer took a red gem out of her body. The elven goddess took it in her delicate hand, breathing on it. A tinge of the red remained while its core shifted to silvery moonlight.

"I accept your gift for her," she said, letting the gem sink in the teenager's chest. "Now, it is time for you to go, Sineya."

With a wave of her hand, Sehanine opened a door on a misty land that the Slayer recognized as the Astral Plane. The Slayer nodded and disappeared through it, following the thin thread that linked her to all Potential Slayers.


Buffy woke up again. She was still in the same room, in that place that seemed to be carved in a giant block of wood rather than constructed. However, this time, everything felt different. The scents were more muted, probably because her nose had lost its Slayer enhancements.

She moved under the sheets, sighing with delight as she felt the coarse linen against her skin. After she had been covered in those drawings, too many nerves had been destroyed for her to feel things correctly. Slowly, delicately, she moved her left hand, lifting it, marveling at the simple fact that her arm answered to her request.

She felt tears on her cheeks as she saw her unblemished pale skin. Her… new arm was a little thinner than before, with a more delicate hand. What really counted though was that it was not a misshapen, bloated mass of scar tissue. She moved her right hand, lifting it before her eyes. Delicately, she pushed the sheets away and looked at her naked body.

"Two arms, two legs... good start."

Her new body was still of a petite frame, maybe even more delicate than it had used to be. She thought about complaining that they could have at least have given her a bigger chest but decided against it. She was not going to be an ungrateful brat when given the kind of gift she thought reserved to mythology. As she rubbed her neck, she realized that not only the scars inflicted by the Baatezu were gone. The skin were the Master had bitten her was pure, too.

She had little in the matter of body hair, but she could feel her hair going down to mid-back. It was longer than it had been for a while and certainly longer than during her captivity. Shaving her and branding her head with those magical scars had been part of her degradation. She took strands in her fingers, sighing in female delight as she felt their silky texture.

"Platinum blonde. Nice," she said as she held a strand before her eyes.

Seeing a mirror on the dressing table, she got up, slowly. Just as she thought, her balance was wobbly but she could walk if she took things slowly. Again, she delighted in the simple feeling of standing on her legs. After months spent crawling, it felt so good to feel whole again.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, letting her fingers follow the traits of her face. They were not that different, maybe a little finer. Her eyes were now blue, almost almond-shaped, their color more vibrant, with depths they did not have before. She tried to don her 'dumb blonde' face and failed miserably. She had seen too much to hide it now.

As she tucked a lock of hair behind her left ear, she noticed the last thing, the thing that was the definite proof of the feeling she had. She was not human anymore. She let her fingers run along her delicate pointed ears. She thanked the fact her ears were not huge like on some drawings she had seen. They rather looked like the ones of Vulcans in Star Trek.

"An elf… I can live with that."

"I hope so," said a voice coming from the door.

Buffy turned, recognizing the female redheaded knight she had seen in Acheron. Her name was Viviane if she remembered correctly. Viviane was not wearing her pink armor this time, but a pair of tan breeches tucked in knee-high boots and a white, flowing shirt. She still had her knight sword at her side, though.

"I…" Buffy ran to hug the human woman. "Thank you… oh thank you!"

"Hem… not that I don't like to be hugged by a pretty elven girl but… some boys may get ideas, given that… you are naked."

"Eep! So… sorry," said Buffy, running to the bed and covering herself with the blanket. "Why… you didn't knock?"

"I did, but you were so enraptured with your reflection that you didn't notice anything."

Buffy blushed.

"You will find a tunic and breeches on the stool. They should be more or less your size, at least until we can get you better."

Buffy nodded and dressed up. The wool fabric was rather coarse but after months spent naked and chained in a cell, she was not about to argue.

"So… I was lucky?"

"Partially. Mandor had us make the ritual here, in Arvandor. He deduced that as this is the realm of the elven gods, it stacked the odds of the reincarnation process. The counterpoint was that if the Seldarine had not judged you worthy…"

"It would not have worked. Mandor is…"

"A wizard from a place where wizards rule, which usually means very tricky politics and backstabbing games. He knows the tricks but he's a nice guy. I would not work with him if that wasn't the case because… paladin of Sune and all that."

"You… why did you help me?"

"We all have our reasons. My own is that I saw beauty in your courage. Even if you knew you had little hope, you never yielded. You faced everything they threw at you and stood."

"I… I was about to yield. They told me they would go fetch my people on my world."

"So you would have sacrificed yourself to save them?"

"Yes… I would have."

"Then it is even more commendable. Buffy, as a Knight of the Ruby Rose, I am sworn to protect love and beauty. I am happy that a soul as beautiful as yours is given a new chance at life and love."

Buffy looked at the woman, thinking for a second about the old Sailor Moon cartoon she watched as a child and about the Arthurian tales she had read in the book Giles offered her for her last birthday. Reading about it, watching a show was one thing. Meeting a real holy knight was really something else. It was not only the magic she had seen, the one that made her world's white magic look gray. It was the gentle, disarming smile, devoid of any trace of bitterness. You could see that Viviane believed truly that courteous chivalry was how one should live.

"So, I'm supposed to start over. I know nothing about this world. I'm already lucky that you speak English."

"Except we rather call it Planar Trade. It's a relatively simple language to learn, but not the only one used… Do you understand me when I speak like this?"

Buffy frowned. The last sentence said by Viviane had been in a singing language that made English sound coarse… a language she had perfectly understood.

"Is that… Elvish?"

"It is. The Seldarine, the elven gods, saw fit to gift you with that knowledge."

Buffy took a bronze hairpin, trying to bend it. Just as she thought, her Slayer strength was gone.

Good… free to start over.

"So…"

"So we spend the next few days seeing what else you can do now. If you fight as well as Neti thinks you can, then you're welcome to join our merry band."

"I… I think I would like that. Thank you, Viviane."


As some of you may have guessed, the setting is Planescape (that does not exist as a game setting in the Buffyverse Earth as far as this story is concerned) and this story supposes that the hell dimensions of the Buffyverse are layers of the Lower Planes. For example, I think my fellow RPG'ers can guess which fiendish race is behind Wolfram and Hart in this story. To finish situating things regarding to the Planescape timeline, this is pre-Faction War and I will have adventuress Buffy go through some of the adventure modules of that setting, so this may contain spoilers regarding said modules. I will have warnings in the notes of the chapter if that is the case.

For those not familiar with Planescape, it is in my opinion one of the best settings ever designed for Dungeon and Dragons. It proposed to adventure in the planes even at the lowest character levels. What I really liked about it was that it promoted subtlety and philosophical thinking over simple hack'n'slash and made some creatures like devils and demons a lot more complex than simple mobs and/or bosses, among other things by giving them lives. The computer game Planescape: Torment did actually a good job to convey the weirdness of the setting.

On a last point, I will refer to Pathfinder rules rather than second edition AD&D in terms of what is possible for magic and how some classes and powers function. Typical Planescape adjustments like how magic is warped on a given plane will stay.

Disclaimer addendum: As Planescape links all 2nd edition settings, elements of other settings will appear, mostly Mystara and the Forgotten Realms.