Wow... that last part changes things and fills a lot of backstory, and leaves a mystery which I hadn't yet considered - who was Teresa's mum and what happened to her (I don't think this has appeared in the story yet has it?). I'm certainly intregued as to whee the relationships go from here.


Nice little detail there, and a good device for loosening his tounge.

And this Red person, I wonder who she is...

nit:
His body was covered in a simple grey blanket from his midsection down, and Teresa wonder if his stomach was bandaged underneath it. -- wondered?

Ooh, nice chapter here! Got's to agree with Olen here. The backstory between Simplicia and Vols was simply RICH!

Peony Pavillion! Ha!

Hmmn.. Frosty Prosts being cut up by an enigmatic . . . maniac? What, is that TES' version of. . . (spooky sounds kicks in)

Jack. . . Be nimble! (cackles)

I was just messing with you, although thinking about that Dunmer brings Jack. . The Ripper in mind.

Awesome chapter, no doubt about it. One second you had the reader smile with the reaction of Teresa when Vols was upsetting her, the next moment you have us feel gutted inside as we find out the history of Simplicia. Your characters come alive from the screen with intense, heart-felt emotion.

Brilliant, Rosa, just brilliant.

Yes...this is the part I remember well, and I still chuckle at the embarassment of Teresa as the men think she's Vols girlfriend!!!

I find it interesting that Cyrodiil’s healers would resort to the use of laudanum in their administrations of the wounded. It seems that in a world in which healing magic is prevalent such artificial pain-killers would be redundant. I suppose that the Legion has better things for their battlemages to do than sit around casting convalescence spells all day long.

Personally, I think that this ‘Red’ that Vols mentioned is (or was) Simplicia back in the old days when she could do things that the young Vols didn’t know that women could do. The actions that he takes on her behalf are born out of a passion for revenge, not the dispassionate disposition of duty (how’s that for alliteration?). I also think that Teresa has it wrong. Vols may still torture himself for the event, but I think in exacting retribution against the Dunmer who mutilated Simplicia and who knows how many others Vols was simply exercising his humanity, not losing it.

Acadian: Thank you Vols. I did intend for that reaction.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.o. You have skewered the importance of this scene entirely. One thing you left out is that it is a swift kick in the rear for Vols as well (although that could fall under the heading of Teresa and Vol's relationship). It is the first time he has been able to show any form of tender emotion since Simplicia was maimed (granted, the laudanum helped to be certain).


Olen: I am glad you caught how I used the laudanum. Aside from the obvious medical reasons, I did purposely dwell on its influence to loosen Vol's tongue.

Red is Teresa! She has red hair after all. Perhaps I should go back and put something in to make that a little more clear...

And thank you for finding Teresa's missing "-ed". It probably got scandalized by that naked Redguard!


ureniashtram: Thank you uren. I got the name Peony Pavilion from House of Flying Daggers, where it was a fancy brothel.


Winter Wolf: Thank you Wolf. Gutted is what I was going for.


D.Foxy: Thank you Fox. That segment was a lot of fun to write. All the ones that highlight Teresa's awkwardness are.


Destri Melarg: Well, remember that all the battlemages are at Bruma, along with most of the army. The people caring for the wounded are civilians, such as Calindil. Given the huge number of wounded, and few number of healers, there just are not enough to go around. Teresa said just that a few segments ago when she and Simplicia were talking about Jensine.

I also went out of my way the previous chapter to establish that healing other people was not a simple task, as we saw it wear out Calindil, and also "heard" Teresa's ruminations on how she knew it was a higher order of magic than she was capable of herself. So under the circumstances I thought it was reasonable that the hordes of wounded would be doped up and tended to mundanely until the few healers could make their way through them all.

I think you are giving Vols much more credit than he deserves. After Simplicia was maimed, he could have taken a page from the book of Leo Buscaglia, told Simplicia that he loved her no matter what, wanted to be with her vagina or not, and have been just plain emotionally supportive. Instead he went the Frank Castle route, and never allowed himself to display any tender emotion for another again. He never even told Simplicia that he killed the man who maimed her. His actions were all about him, and his own feelings of frustration and powerlessness at not being able to protect the woman he loves (a common issue with men whose spouses/girlfriends are raped). It wasn't murdering the Dunmer that destroyed his humanity, it was his inability to face his own emotions that did, and his flight into a life of casual violence that punished him as much as it did the criminals he preyed upon.

Imagine how differently things would have played out if Vols had taken Dr. Leo's advice, or at least Titus Pullo's. He could have brought Simplicia the still-beating heart of her enemy, told her that he loved her, and took care of her. Imagine Teresa being adopted by that loving couple. The TF is almost like an Elseworlds version of history gone terribly wrong.

Teresa's own courage in honestly displaying her emotions to Vols is that swift kick in the british boat that I mentioned to h.e.o. In a way she is almost shaming him into facing his own feelings. If she can do it, how come he can't? She is probably the first person to ever really reach out to him since what happened to Simplicia. To be certain she is the only one he has been incapable of brushing off. She is in the unique position of being the right person, in the right place, at the right time to save Vols from himself.


All: I found a new mod for Teresa's goggles. It not only looks cooler, but has a version that she can wear pushed back on her forehead. It is just for looks, so I integrated its mesh and texture into the mod I am currently uses that gives night eye with the goggles. Look at Teresa in her new specs

Next: Teresa finally returns to Jensine's shop, where she makes a promise that will guide her every future action.


* * *

Chapter 13.3 - The Promise

The sun was low on the horizon when Teresa returned to Jensine's. Gods! she had spent the entire afternoon away from the shop. Simplicia was definitely going to kill her, she thought. At least she had stopped again to buy more food and wine as a peace offering, that might keep the old woman from becoming too angry for leaving her to do all the work herself.

"Where have you been all day!" Here it comes, Teresa thought as she entered through the open doorway and saw the old Imperial rising from the floor at the back of the shop.

"I brought you something to eat." Teresa bit her lip, and set down the bread and sausage she had bought onto a plate near the stairway.

"You left me here to do everything and that is all you have to say!" Simplicia railed, wagging her finger at the young wood elf.

"I'm sorry." Teresa suddenly felt like she was ten years old again. "I went to the Waterfront to see if Methredhel was alright, and we ate." She was not about to mention Volsinius...

"And what about your business proposition?" Simplicia eyed her as she plodded across the floor.

"They wanted me to get some statues for them," Teresa said, "but I told them no."

"Teresa, you were never any good at lying," the old woman sighed as she sat on the stair and reached for the food the wood elf had brought. "I wish you would be more careful, I know you kids think that nothing is ever going to happen to you, but it does."

"I know you worry…" Teresa mumbled as she sat beside the old woman. "I am careful though. I never fight a battle I cannot win, or run away from."

Simplicia shook her head, but said nothing as her mouth was full. They sat there in silence while she ate, and when she had finished Teresa went to the back of the shop to find a cup and poured her some of the wine she had just bought.

"Ever since you came back from the prison, you've been so wild…" the old woman breathed quietly as she took the cup, more of a lament than a rebuke.

"I saw the new Emperor today, or what was left of him." Teresa tried to change the subject as she sat down beside Simplica once more.

"So it's true what they say?" Simplicia asked in surprise.

"It's true, and more," Teresa nodded, "he became Akatosh and sacrificed himself to save all of us. Then he turned to stone. Into a great stone dragon. I've never seen anything like it."

"Maybe I'll go tomorrow and see it," Simplicia said with a wry smile, "and you can stay here and watch the shop."

Teresa would have smiled, but thinking of the two Emperors cast such a dark shroud over her heart that she could not even manage the faint smile she reserved for everyone but Simplicia.

"He's not the first Emperor I saw dead," Teresa admitted. "I was there when his father died. I was standing right beside him."

"What!" Simplicia nearly spat her wine across the floor.

Teresa recounted the entire story of what had occurred beneath the prison that night. She had told Simplicia some of it before, but had left out any mention of the Emperor, his heir, and the Amulet of Kings out of fear of endangering Martin. Until now she had not told a soul because of that, but there seemed little reason to keep her silence anymore.

"That is amazing!" Simplicia exclaimed when Teresa had finished, placing her arm around the wood elf and drawing her close, "my little girl met the Emperor himself, it's no wonder you are so different now, after everything you have been through."

"I'll never forget him," Teresa said as she laid her head on the old woman's shoulder, "he believed in me. He showed me that I could be a better person, that I didn't have to be afraid anymore."

She sat there for a long time, wishing the Emperor was still alive, that his son Martin was still alive, that so many things in life had turned out differently. That made her thoughts turn to what Volsinius had told her, and she bit her lip trying to decide if she should say anything about it.

"I know about what happened to you, when you were working at the Peony Pavilion," she finally blurted out. Telling just one other person about what had happened with the Emperor and the Amulet of Kings felt like a great weight being lifted from her shoulders, she thought. She should not force Simplicia to continue living with her own ordeal in silence. She deserved better.

"Who told you that!" Simplicia snapped, pulling away from Teresa.

"It doesn't matter who," Teresa breathed, looking deeply in the old woman's eyes. "I just wish I had known sooner. You are the only family I'll ever have."

"That was a long time ago." Simplicia slumped her shoulders and turned her head down. "I was a different person then, life was different then."

They sat there in silence, and Teresa wondered if she should have said nothing after all as she stared into her lap. By Nocturnal, could she do nothing right? she wondered. Then the old Imperial cleared her throat and began to speak again.

"I used to dream that someday I would get out of the skin trade. That I would meet someone special, and we would settle down in a little house in the country with a garden and have children. I know it's a stupid dream, and it wasn't ever going to happen anyway. But that's all gone now, all because of that Dunmer fetcher. What really hurts most is that he got away with it too…"

"No he didn't." Teresa said softly. "He's dead."

"Teresa, you didn't…" Simplicia looked up into her eyes with a mixture of shock and dread.

"No, it was a long time ago," the wood elf said, "I probably wasn't even alive then."

Teresa put her arms around the old woman and held her tight as she began to sob. Cradling Simplicia's head on her shoulder, she gently rocked the old woman back and forth and whispered softly into her ear that it was ok, just as Simplicia had done herself on countless occasions when she was a child. When at last her tears subsided, Simplicia drew back and sat up once more. Teresa left one arm around her waist, and with the other took Simplicia's hand within her own.

"Afterward, they let me keep working at the Peony," Simplicia said, her voice harsh and cracking from emotion, "doing laundry, cleaning up, that sort of thing. I didn't even want to be alive back then, and being around the other women just made it worse."

"So I got into skooma. It made me forget, for a while at least. I lost even that job because all I wanted to do was drink it. I sold everything I had to get more, until finally I had nothing left. I would have sold myself, but no one wants a woman who is not even a woman anymore. Then I was out on the streets with nothing."

Teresa said nothing. She just held Simplicia and let her talk. She wondered how long it had been since the old woman had been able to share the terrible events of her life with another person, if ever at all.

"Eventually I stole a knife and went back into an alley to cut my wrists," Simplicia continued, "but then something happened that changed everything, that changed my entire life."

Teresa gave her a questioning look, but still did not speak. She was not even sure that she could talk at all with the lump that had formed in her throat.

"I heard a baby crying," Simplicia explained, "it was this pale little elf wrapped up in a velvet blanket. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I wondered what was going to happen to that poor little thing, all alone in the world?"

"That is when I knew that I still had something to live for," Simplicia said as she looked deeply into Teresa's eyes. "To this day I bless Mara for giving you to me. You saved my life little girl."

Teresa did begin to cry then, and held Simplicia close. She had always known that life had been hard for the old woman, but she had no idea how awful. In that moment she thanked Mara herself for drawing them both together.

"I am going to make your dream come true," Teresa said through her tears, "I promise."

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 02:07 AM

Wonderful follow-up to Teresa's conversation with Vols in the previous segment.

It is a big load to dump off one's shoulders, to be able to tell someone about that meeting with the Emperor and how it affected Teresa. It is only fitting that she should return the favor and lighten Simplicia's shoulders as well.

Well you've certaily kept with filling in backgrounds, and you've set up another sub-plot I think. Good followup both in terms of continuing what was started with her speaking with vols and in having it draw out more backstory.

It appears, though I could be wrong, that we are at, or fast approching, another point of change in the action and what Teresa is doing.

Which all perfectly illustrates the point that I was making . . . his humanity should not be formed of the idealized version of what he should have done, but of the actual reality of what he did do. What he did was perfectly in keeping with how you drew him as a character. I would not expect the young Vols (or even the older Vols) to be able to extend himself emotionally to such an extent. He would be more comfortable exacting retribution for his own sake and telling himself that he did it for Simplicia, then convincing himself that she never needs to know. I wasn’t trying to give Vols undue credit. In many ways he is a Neanderthal, but he is a well drawn Neanderthal. Any time he acts in such vivid accord with his basic nature I consider that ‘exercising his humanity’, not 'losing it'.

Now, on to the current chapter:

I agree with haute and Olen, this was an excellent follow up to the last chapter. I think that, understandably, Simplicia was just as cut off from her own emotions as Vols. The revelation that she was in that alley to kill herself when she heard the baby crying lends even more depth to the relationship between the two women.

This is just an observation, but it seems that if Teresa is to be given the charge of making Vols face his own emotions then she has just robbed him by telling Simplicia what she knows. I know that, technically, she didn’t betray a confidence but, spiritually, she did.

Another very powerfully emotional episode!

I love Vols, and what he did. I also love Teresa, and the choices she made in sharing things with Simplicia. I felt like I was completely inside Teresa's head, and her emotional logic/rationale made perfect sense to me. I could feel her turmoil as she bit her lower lip and arrived at decisions that were completely Teresa.

Yes! That is our little pale elf!

Yes, indeed. Thanking Mara is a good thing. The way baby Teresa saved Simplica from herself is such a beautiful piece of TF.

And finally, ah yes. The promise. I have no doubt Teresa will keep the promise to her precious Simplica.

One thing that struck me with this episode, is that it captured me to the point that the words almost disappeared, leaving behind only the drama you intended.

I said the words almost disappeared because one tiny segment of your wording did cause me pause:

Did you intend 'rising from floor' instead of 'rising from the floor'?

Destri, I have the feeling that you are using 'humanity' in a different definition from Rosa.

Rosa is speaking of 'humanity' as a philosophical ideal, that level of goodness and morality which all humans, male or female, should aim for.

Of course, nearly all of us fail to reach the full potential of this humanity, but we can at least try to approach it. As Teresa does. And Simplicia. Vols made only one brief moral effort in that direction, and failed to follow through.

Your definition of humanity, methinks, is the innate character of a person. Which can also be called that - many others than you have made that same definition - but, alas, it's not Rosa's definition.

Those two last chapter were friggin' awesome. I can't start to fathom how the hell you manage to layer in sooo much emotion. I marvel....

And I still think Vols is great! I'd have cut up that wretched Dunmer in a million pieces too and make him watch the Slaughterfish eat some of his parts. Magic must be a "great" tool in torture keeping someone alive that would've died a loooooong time before. Hmmm........

haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.o. This has always been one of my favorite chapters.


Olen: Thank you Olen. You are quite right. Teresa's promise marks a major turning point in her life, and that of Simplicia. Now she has a clear goal in front of her, rather than just the nebulous idea of making money.


Destri Melarg: What Foxy said. I strive to make all of my characters human. Well, at least the human ones. Seriously though, perfect characters are boring. That is why I make an effort to show people's warts as well as their good sides.

And yes, Teresa is sort of betraying a confidence. As if that would stop her from meddling! She is a woman, it is her job to stick her nose into other people's lives when she thinks she can make them better!


Acadian: You are right, my "the" must have washed away by Teresa's tears!

Thank you Acadian. This is a chapter that still makes me cry. I am glad I am not the only one who can feel the emotion. I am glad you noted the reference to Mara. This is the first time Teresa makes one to the Mother Goddess. It will certainly not the be the last


D.Foxy: Exactly.


Remko: Thank you. It's a chick thing.


All: No update this time. I am still working on the next chapter, which is all new. I will probably post the first segment at the end of the week. After that are two more new chapters. Since work has gotten crazy lately, I have been slower than usual in writing. However, the good news is we will be seeing people's favorites: Baurus, Methredhel, and Morcant.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 27 2010, 05:36 PM

Just as it is the job of the man to walk around perpetually tasting his own shoe leather! My apologies.

Next: Teresa pays a visit to a part of the city we have not seen yet.

* * *

Chapter 14.1- The Grandmaster

1st Sun's Height, 3E433

Teresa dodged aside as a cart loaded with limestone blocks clattered past her down Commerce street. The last thing she wanted was to get in the way of that leviathan, she thought to herself, the crowds of people were bad enough. As she nimbly wove her way through the gaggles of shoppers in the Market District, she found it hard to believe that just two days before the same street had been a battlefield.

Still, maybe that was why it was so busy, she thought. With so much devastation, people had to buy new things to replace what had been ruined. Half the patrons in Jensine's had been looking for furniture, which made the forester imagine that they must have used theirs as makeshift barricades just as she and the others had done. The rest sought out armor, weapons, and healing potions. The last of the Vilverin loot had sold by midday. She only wished she had more ingredients, otherwise she could have made a fortune on potions.

She found herself once more thankful that Raven had led her to Vilverin as she looked down at the dark brown leather that now sheathed her frame. The leftover spoils of the Ayleid ruin had yielded up more than enough for her to assemble another suit of armor. This one was of the regular style leather, rather than the revealing hides the bandits made. It felt a little warmer, but she hoped that legionaries and guardsmen would look at her a little less suspiciously than before.

A lone soldier stood guard at the massive gate that separated the Market District from the Palace District. However, he paid no heed to Teresa as she passed him by and strode into the dimly lit tunnel cut through the gatehouse. The forester noted the arrow-slits cut into the walls of the tunnel to either side, and the ominous-looking holes in the ceiling above. She would not want to be in the army that tried to force its way through here, she thought, it would simply be suicide.

Emerging from the gateway over a dozen paces later, she squinted in the harsh glare of the sun as she looked about herself. The crowds had thinned out as soon as she stepped into the gatehouse. Most of the people that did remain continued down the wide thoroughfare of Green Emperor Way, which ran straight ahead toward the base of White Gold Tower. That lofty spire rose impossibly high into the sky overhead, seeming to float in the air. How tall could it be? the forester wondered, a thousand feet? two thousand? How in the world could anyone have ever built something so amazing?

An elbow in her side brought her thoughts back to Nirn. One hand immediately fell to her purse, and the wood elf breathed a sigh of relief to find it still hung from her belt. The forester shot a dark look at the pair of snickering Imperials who swaggered past her down the street. Now her hand fell to the empty spot at her right hip where her arrow bag normally rested. Along with her armor, she had put aside another bow and a few arrows from the Vilverin loot. She had left them behind because bringing them to the Imperial Palace had not seemed like a good idea. But as she stared at the velvet-clad backs of the undoubtedly patrician youths, she wished she had ignored prudence for once.

Typical noble snobs, she fumed as she set her feet back into motion, they think they can push anyone around that they want. She'd like to see how long they would last on the Waterfront, or in the shantytown beyond.

The white-washed stones of single-storied barracks buildings rose to her right, and beyond she could catch glimpses of wide parade grounds. On and on they went, yet with only a few legionaries in their dark plate or simple tunics marching around them. Some of the buildings looked completely empty, given their shuttered windows. If there were people in them, she doubted they would shut themselves up on a warm summer day!

To her left Teresa saw the gigantic warehouses that made up the city's granary. All were curiously raised up from the ground by stone pillars, so the breeze flowed without hindrance beneath their floors. Each could only be entered by a wide ramp leading up to a pair of great bronze doors, making them appear like miniature fortresses.

She saw that most were decorated with frescos depicting stalks of wheat, cornucopias overflowing with fruits and vegetables, farm animals, and most of all, the goddess Mara. In some of them the great fertility goddess stood holding the universal symbol of marriage: two lengths of cord, both knotted together in the center to create a single strand. Yet in most she was depicted with a belly swollen by pregnancy, upon which a spiral was painted, while leaves and flowers grew from her hair.

The warehouses were surrounded by a tall, iron fence crowned with spikes, and the wood elf could see a pair of legionaries standing guard at the single gate leading in. As she watched, a wagon loaded with sacks of what she imagined was grain rolled down the ramp of one warehouse and clattered toward the pair of soldiers.

Teresa continued down the street to where it opened into a gigantic plaza that was sprinkled with mortals of all races. Much like in the Market District, all manner of citizens could be found making their way through the square. Here was an Imperial in velvet riding a dappled grey horse, there an Argonian shuffling in worn linen. Looking across the vast open space, the forester could see wide thoroughfares radiating out like spokes on a wheel. The nearest to her right led to the Elven Gardens District, and beyond that another made its way to Talos Plaza. While to her left yet another street ran to the Arena District.

All along the white pavestones rose marble statues of Emperors and other heroes of the Empire. Some she recognized instantly, such as Alessia and Tiber Septim. She had to read the names on the shining brass plaques at the feet of most of them know who they were however, and even then she had never heard of more than half of them.

Straight ahead - surrounding White Gold Tower - Teresa saw a final wall. This one was only slightly lower than that between the districts, but was made of the same gleaming white stone as the great tower itself, rather than the grey rock of the city's other walls. It curved around out of view to either side, and the forester knew that to reach the districts on the other side of the city, she only had to walk along the boulevard that circled the wall.

Tucked into the wall facing directly north was the bulge of a gatehouse, and it was to this that Teresa's feet took her. Standing along either side of the fiery bronze portals of the entryway were a row of soldiers. Unlike the simple, dark plate of the Imperial Legion, these wore armor of glimmering steel inlaid with golden dragons. Great crests of amber horse hair rose from their helmets, and swords of glittering mithril rode at their hips. Praetorians, Teresa thought as she stepped up to the gateway, only to be blocked by a pair of the soldiers.

"State your name and business in the palace citizen." The stern voice issued not from the slit of one of the helmets of the praetorians before her, but rather from another to her side. Turning her head, the forester saw that this one wore the transverse crest of an officer, and Teresa imagined that he must command the gate.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jan 7 2011, 03:54 AM

Hmm, this is new!

I like your description of the Palace District - it makes it seems so much more essential to the identity of the Imperial City. It rather exemplifies the centralization of power in Cyrodiil with the barracks, the granaries, etc.

The snobby Imperial youths are just asking for someone to take them down a notch or two! Too bad Teresa left her bow and arrow bag behind!

I agree with Huate that the palace district feels more like a centre of power and a palace than the single tower in game, again your increase in scale and vision for the world adds a lot (and still manages to be fairly sympathetic about not drastically changing the world). The inclusion of grannaries as a nice touch.

And now to go into the palace... there's something she'd never have dreamt of.

Oh, a new mystery! I'm curious to find out what is bringing Teresa's feet to the palace.

I liked your description of the gatehouse she passed through, complete with arrow slits and overhead meurtrières.

Lots of architectural and city description. I know it is your intent to portray the IC as a massive city, and you did so here. I was pleased to see that you broke it up some with Teresa's thoughts ranging from why people would be shopping (good reasoning, Teresa), her new armor and the snotty young Imperials.


nits? The 'a' seems out of place or unintended here.

To me, 'slaked' implies quenched or sated. I wonder if you meant to use 'slacked'? Could it be as simple as a missing 'c' that spell check would not notice, since slake is a word?

We are of the same mind when it comes to our approach to the size of Tamriel. Your Palace District is one worthy of housing an Emperor. I especially loved the frescoes depicting Mara. I find it ironic that she would be holding the two cords symbolizing marriage considering that she is married to both Akatosh and Lorkhan. Maybe she should be holding three cords!

The wordsmith in me did cartwheels reading these lines:



Alliteration FTW!

Nits:

haute ecole rider: Lots more new stuff coming for a while. That is why it is slow coming out! The centralization of power is exactly what I was looking for when I populated the district. I made it so that in the event of an attack, even if all the outer districts in the circle of the city were lost, they could still hold the Palace District indefinitely (I figure the cisterns are under the palace, like the vast underground one that Constantinople had).


Olen: Thank you Olen. Teresa has been through the district many times going from one place to another, but has certainly never imagined going into the Palace itself!


Acadian: Mystery revealed this segment. I am tempted to go back to the previous chapters and add more description to the other gateways, and the walls in general. I only really thought about it when I was writing this chapter.

Thanks for spotting my nits, fixed.


Destri Melarg: Well you know what they say, if its not big, a girl's not happy... I do not think it is so strange about Mara though. She is not married to both Akatosh and Lorkhan at the same time. It is just that she is married to one or the other, depending on the religion. Seeing the same gods and goddesses with different roles in different areas is not unusual. For example, at the same time that Hekate was reviled as a goddess of ghosts, blood-sucking lamias (vampires), and other creepy things in Athens, across the Aegean in Caria she was a mother-goddess with baby Zeus suckling at her breast.

Good catches on the nits. I have been exhausted all this week, so have not been as good at finding them as usual.



Next: The Imperial Palace

* * *

Chapter 14.2- The Grandmaster

"My name is Teresa," the forester said, feeling her heart pick up its pace at the sight of so many soldiers, all staring at her with eyes as cold as glaciers. "I am here to see Baurus, the Grandmaster of the Blades."

The centurion stepped back into the bowels of the gate, leaving the forester to wait under the brilliant glare of the sun. As she stood there, she saw several other people pass through the open gates with nothing more than a nod from the praetorians. Some were legionaries in their armor or uniform tunics, others civil servants by their linens, and still more obviously patricians from their fine silks, velvets, and haughty manner.

How come they had walked through without so much as a second glance, while she got the third degree? Teresa silently fumed as she waited. Was it because she was a wood elf and not an Imperial? Because she was wearing leather instead of velvet? Or did the guards simply know the others from daily routine?

"Alright, you're clear to enter." The centurion's rumble came from the edge of the gatehouse. Turning in that direction, Teresa saw, and heard, him step back out into the light with a clatter of metal armor. "This must be your first time in the palace Bosmer. You'll find the Blades straight ahead and to the right. Look for the Basilica of Tiber Septim."

Teresa nodded, and sighed with relief when the mountains of gold-emblazoned steel moved out of her way and let her through the portal. When she finally emerged on the other side, the wood elf found herself standing in a sea of buildings clustered around the base of White Gold Tower. Made of white marble shot through with soft purple veins, these were not the plain insulas of the rest of the city, but rather towering basilicas and long arcades whose galleries offered cool shade from the summer sun. She even recognized a sprawling bathhouse, much like the ones she knew from the Arena and Elven Gardens Districts. Except this was of marble, and decorated with gold statues of leaping dolphins.

The buildings looked small, but Teresa knew that was only because of how close they were to White Gold Tower. If they had been anywhere else they would make her jaw drop from amazement. As it was, she had a difficult time keeping her feet moving, as everywhere she turned her gaze she met some new wonder that made her stop and stare.

The streets here were nowhere near as crowded as those of the rest of the city. Still, there was no shortage of people coming and going. Many were clad in fine linens, carried scrolls or portfolios jammed with parchments, and showed the stains of ink on their fingertips. Civil servants, Teresa thought to herself, she had heard that it took an army of them to run the Empire. Although why it would require so many papers and forms was beyond her.

Along with the bureaucrats came legionaries both in armor and dragon-emblazoned tunics, as well as more of the praetorians in their brightly-gilded steel. Patricians in silk and velvet strutted like peacocks, their noses so high in the air that Teresa imagined they would all drown if it began to rain. Each seemed to be attended by at least a handful of servants in linen, and the wood elf was thankful she did not have their jobs. Nor would she have wanted to be in the boots of the occasional armored bodyguard that flanked the well-heeled coteries either.

The Imperial Palace wasn't a building, but a city all to itself, Teresa realized as she forced herself along the main boulevard. The forester in her could not resist stepping into a park filled with cherry trees. Wandering along its pathways, she came to a long pond of crystal clear water. Gazing into its depths, she saw golden fish darting back and forth within. She could not contain the faint smile that crested her lips as she mounted the gentle arc of a wooden bridge that spanned the water and leaned against its handrail.

She did not know how long she stood there, just staring at the fish and the park around her, until finally the cedar planks beneath her shook under the hard tramp of feet. Turning her head, Teresa saw that marching toward her was an aged Imperial with closely-cropped white hair. He wore gold and red velvet that seemed like a uniform from its cut, and a sash of red silk was wrapped around his waist. An ivory baton studded with gemstones was in his hand, and a gigantic golden ring emblazoned with an Imperial dragon sat upon one of the fingers that held it.

Behind him came a much younger man, also an Imperial from his dark hair and olive features. He wore a less-ornate version of the red and gold clothing that the older man did, and carried a portfolio fairly bursting with parchments in his hands.

The white-haired man stopped beside Teresa, turning his gaze to the pond below and leaning heavily upon the rail of the bridge. The wood elf stared down at the sash around his waist, tied into a knot in the middle of his stomach. Where had she seen that sash? she wondered, and the baton? Then it came to her in a flash. Bruma. The general commanding the army had carried both!

"It is lovely is it not?" The voice of the Imperial was not the soft, polished tone of a patrician. Rather it was hard and rough, like stone grating across stone. The forester wondered if it was years in the legion that made him like that. Or had he always been that way? She tried to speak, but all she could do was nod in agreement. What do you say to a legate? she wondered, let alone the one who had saved all of Cyrodiil from the Daedra?

"I like to come here when things have gotten so completely fetched that it seems the gods themselves have taken a dreck all over us." Teresa gulped as the general continued. Had he really just said that, she wondered? She had never heard a nobleman speak that way. It was so… rough and down-to-Nirn. "It reminds me that this world is worth every sacrifice."

Teresa gazed at the fish lazily swimming to and fro in the water below her feet. She thought of the summoned bear that had saved her life just two days before, and of the ravens and crows that had guided her for months. "The spirits of Nirn are strong here," she thought aloud. She almost stopped herself after she realized that she had actually said it. But this time she did indeed throw prudence to the wind and spoke her mind instead. "It's quiet enough that you can hear their voices, if you just take the time to listen. They remind us that we are not alone, but rather are part of something far greater, and more beautiful, than our mortal eyes can see.

"You talk like a priest," the legate breathed, "but not the kind I normally meet around here." The wooden planks creaked underfoot as he straightened, and Teresa turned to meet his gaze. His eyes were fixed upon her now, seeming to size her up. "You aren't with the legion, or a bureaucrat, and you sure as dreck aren't a patrician… Are you one of Jauffre's boys?"

"I'm a girl actually." Teresa wanted to bite her lip. What had gotten into her! Yet still she found that she could not resist a faint smile at the general's words. Until she thought of the old Breton she had met at Weynon, who had most definitely not been a simple monk. Then she swallowed hard. "It's Baurus now though. He's who I'm here to see."

"Bah! boy, girl, it's all the same in the service," the legate breathed. Then he pointed his hand somewhat back in the way Teresa had come from. "You've gone too far then. The Basilica of Tiber Septim is back that way, and off to the west a bit."

"Oh, thank you… sir." Teresa nodded to the older man. Not wanting to put her foot any deeper into her mouth than she already had, she scampered off into the direction he had indicated. As the forester did, she hoped that she had not indeed gone too far with her candor. Patricians were all so very touchy. You never knew what might set them off.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 02:08 AM