That is for my benefit?! I can certainly appreciate the sentiment, hautee. . . but like ‘Rosa says:

Now if we are going to have a discussion of eyeball-scorching, knock-you-on-your-a$$ HOTNESS, make mine the 'oh so smoking' Lena Olin!


*drool* Provocative? Sure, but since mALX feels compelled to subject us to images of girlie-man pubic hair, I thought something was needed to balance things out!

Now . . . onto this latest chapter:

I am of the opinion that this chapter marks a seismic shift in Teresa and Nerussa’s relationship. What started as fondness and grew into infatuation has transformed into genuine caring and mutual respect. Teresa never once judges Nerussa or begrudges her need for other partners. And she doesn’t seek to change her into an idealized version of her own desire.

Linara said it best, Teresa is growing up.

Haute was just talking about it not being a girly-man



GAAAAAH! I didn't see that till you said something !!!! (and then had to get my magnifying glass out and look) - sorry everyone, I'll remove it !!!!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Nov 16 2010, 01:01 AM

And how very much the prerogative of a young woman to change her mind in the blink of an eye for any or no reason at all that may flit into her heart, head or loins.

You did a perfect job at leading me through Teresa's encounter. One cannot help but like Nerussa, for her open manner.

A good job also at contrasting the differences between Teresa and Nerussa. Both fine women, simply quite different from each other.

And finally, a lovely tour southward from Weye to Pells Gate.

You handled the encounter with a dignity and aplomb worthy of Nerussa herself. I am glad Teresa’s confirmation of who she is happened in a safe and pleasant fashion. It is also good that, despite her libido’s brief betrayal, she is determined on her course. Although her quest for the “truth” of the Arimer will likely be a dangerous road, it is one she must travel.



The vision of Fanacasecul and the annotations on the map were moments that sang to me. They reveal Teresa’s nature, both mystical and mundane. This is another contemplative, character-building chapter.

Linara: Indeed, Teresa is steadily growing up and learning lessons of the heart. She will need all of that wisdom in the future...


haute ecole rider: Well, if you call diving into a threesome extricating yourself! The funny thing is that it was only awkward for Teresa. Still, she is learning some things about herself.


mALX: That doesn't look like Rick Moranis


treydog: The Truth is indeed out there. Why do I hear the X-Files theme playing as I type this?

No fears of looking foolish as long as Teresa is around. She is so adept at it that no one will notice anyone else!

The BosArimer? If the Ayleids had powered armor and mini-nuke launchers I don't think they would have lost the war!


Cardboard Box: Sad thing is, you see much worse than that in any comic book today.


Destri Melarg: How nice of Haute to offer up some hot man-flesh for your enjoyment. I had not realized you were on the Down Low. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone.

You have hit the nail right on the head, as usual. This is an important episode in relation to Teresa and Nerussa. It both shows that Teresa has been seeing her on a regular basis, and more importantly that they have grown beyond being casual lovers to being actual friends. Teresa interestingly enough has no problems at all accepting that Nerussa has other lovers, and that she can offer no commitment. That is something that struck me probably at the same time it became obvious to everyone else.


Acadian: I don't think it was so much that Teresa changed her mind, but rather more a matter of something else taking charge...

I had not really thought about it, but you are correct, here we do see just how very different Nerussa and Teresa are, as well as how they fit together in just the right way that each can be happy with the open relationship that exists between them.


Next: Having taken her leave of Nerussa and journeyed along the southern shore of Lake Rumare, Teresa stops to pick some mushrooms.


Chapter 23.3 – The Rider

Teresa knelt down beside the worn cobbles of the road and drew a small knife from her belt. A huge brown mushroom rose from the dirt in front of her, with a dark cap and a paler stem. Summer bolete, the forester thought, something she could make a Shield potion from. It might just save her life someday. Or she could sell it and pay for half a week's stay at a decent inn. Or two nights at a fancy place like the Merchants Inn in the Market District.

The leaves rustled nearby as she bent closer to cut off the wide cap of the toadstool. That is when she realized that there was no wind. Looking up, she saw nothing but trees clustered across the rising hillside ahead of her, stretching away into the impenetrable green of the forest. Glancing behind her she saw only open meadow and the glittering blue waves of Lake Rumare beyond.

Black feathers caught Teresa's eye, and she stood and sheathed the knife at her hip. A raven sat perched upon a branch in the woods, down the road from her. It bobbed its head from one side to another, but Teresa was certain it was staring at her. Then it began to peck at the wood under its feet, and Teresa let her gaze fall beneath it.

Was that a shape in the brush under the tree? she wondered. Pulling the bow from her back, she reached into the quiver at her hip and drew forth one of her new mithril-tipped arrows. It might be wolf, she thought, but animals did not often stray so near the roads…

Her ears were filled by a shout as a black and white Khajiit burst from the underbrush farther down the road from where she was looking. He wore a cuirass of brown animal hides crudely stitched together with rawhide. An axe was clenched in one of his clawed hands, and a wide-bladed dagger in the other. Teresa felt her heart leap into her throat when she saw the mouth of the Khajiit open to reveal long, curved fangs.

Without thinking, the wood elf laid her arrow on the nock and raised her bow in a smooth motion. Drawing back the string half-way, she took a moment to let out half of her breath. Aiming at the center of his chest, she pulled the flaxen string all the way to her cheek and loosed.

That is when it dawned upon her that the shout she had heard had not been the voice of one of the cat-folk. Without pausing to see if her arrow struck home, she turned and sprinted down the road away from him. The sound of roaring flame erupted in her ears, and moment later she felt a wave of heat pass by behind her back.

They had a mage! she thought, and at least one other from the clattering of metal she now heard. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the Khajiit down on one knee in the road, tugging at the arrow in his shoulder. Further upslope and closer to her stood a woman dressed in a hunter's garb of brown leather and green linen. Her hands were free of weapons, so Teresa imagined that she must be the magician who had tried to cook her.

But what really caught the wood elf's eye, and her ears as well with the clamor of metal, was the man racing from the trees even closer than the mage. He brandished a jagged sword nearly as long as he was tall, and was clad from neck down in red plate that was plainly not mortal steel. Crafted into an array of spikes and wicked flanges, the sight of the infernal armor made Teresa's blood turn to ice. She had seen its kind before, both at Bruma and within Jensine's shop. It was Daedric. What made her blink however, was the full helm that encased the bandit's head. With its distinctive Y-shaped slit for the eyes and mouth, and the socket rising from its peak - now missing its characteristic horsehair plume - it was unmistakably that of the Fifth Imperial Legion.

That was no soldier, Teresa thought as she looked back to the road in front of her and ran for all she was worth. Was it a dremora? Whatever - or whoever - it was, he had killed a legionary to get that helmet! Her heart - already pounding like a drum - filled with something blazing and hard as she raced down the road. Her limbs wanted to shake, but that rock-hard fury boiling up within her would not allow it. It craved blood, and she knew nothing else would sate it.

The road ahead of her curved gently to her left, around the rising slope of the hillside. There was no sign of bandits that way, nor in the open meadow to the other side of the road. Good, she forced herself to think through the rage building within her. That meant she had not walked into their trap and been surrounded. She must have just brushed by its edge.

With an effort, she reached into the pouch in the center of her belt and drew forth a small bottle. Popping its stopper with her thumb, she raised it to her lips and guzzled its contents. Some of the yellow liquid spilled across her chin, but she did not care. The brief flash of golden light around her frame told her that she had drunk enough for the Shield magic to take effect.

Tossing the empty bottle aside, she reached for another arrow from the quiver at her hip that rose and fell with every step that she took. Then she stopped and turned, setting the arrow to the nock without looking down. Instead her eyes stared down the road at the approaching bandits.

The woman was now in the lead, her right hand held out before her as she ran. A bolt of flame blossomed from her fingers and shot down the road at Teresa. The wood elf felt a snarl come to her lips as she stepped to one side, allowing the magical fire to pass harmlessly by. It was just like her battle with the ghost in Castle Magia, she thought, only this time her target was flesh and blood.

Eyes still on the hedge wizard, Teresa raised her bow to half extension and aimed for the center of her chest. Letting out half the air from her lungs, the Bosmer pulled the string back to her cheek and loosed. The bandit tried to duck as the arrow sped home, angling her head forward as she did. She would have been quick enough to dodge a magical attack such as one of her own firebolts, but arrows flew much faster than sorcery. A flash of light that Teresa knew was a Shield spell erupted around her body as the arrow struck home. It might have stopped one of her old steel arrows, but it was not enough to ward off her new mithril-tipped missiles, and the feathered shaft buried itself in the bandit's inclined face.

The mage fell to the cracked pavestones in a heap, blood erupting from her head and pooling around her. She was not dead though, for Teresa could see her hands clawing at the downward-pointed arrow sprouting from her nose. The bandit did not make a sound however, and the wood elf imagined that she must be suffocating in her own blood.

The thought brought a faint smile to Teresa's lips as her right hand dropped to a small jar suspended from her belt. Wrapping her fingers around the stopper, she pulled it forth and let it fall to the ground. Then she reached for another arrow and dipped its point into the container, only to draw it forth a moment later covered in a Handril's Bane.

Screenshot

The Khajiit was next, springing down the road once more with a speed that emulated that of the felines to which his race was related. His left shoulder dripped blood, and he had dropped the dagger he had previously held in that hand. But his right hand still clutched his axe, and his eyes seemed to glow with the reflected light of lowering sun.

Not far behind him Teresa could see the lumbering behemoth in his monstrous armor. She stared at him as she set another arrow to her nock. That fetcher was going to pay, and she would collect.

But Teresa knew that the Khajiit would catch her if she fired on the armored man. As much as her blood boiled, it was not worth dying for, she thought. So she sighted in on the Khajiit and pulled her string back to her cheek. A moment later her arrow was in the air, and again the bandit was rolling to one side to avoid it.

He was not fast enough however, and once more her arrow caught him, this time low in his side. He stumbled a moment, and Teresa thought he might fall, but he regained his footing and continued forward. His jaw was now set with what must be pain, and she could see the tips of his fangs protruding from his lips, now dripping with saliva.

He was still coming fast, too fast. So Teresa turned and ran for her life down the road, the nightshade at her hip spilling from its jar and staining her leather greaves with every step. She could hear the outlaw's bare feet pounding on the stones behind her, the claws of his toes clicking with every step. The rasp of his breath came nearer and nearer as she ran. By Raven he was quick! the wood elf thought. Even after two arrows he was still faster than she was!

She was going to have to face him or go down with his axe in her back. There would be no time for her to string another arrow. He would be on her in seconds. With no other options, Teresa fixed the image of an erupting flame in her mind, and reached down for the magicka within her.

She could feel the energy tingling in her skin as she turned and leaped to one side. The Khajiit was nearly upon her as she threw her hand out in front of her, fire pouring from her fingertips. Once again he dodged, and somehow Teresa's Flare sped harmlessly past him. Then his axe was in the air and falling at her head, and the wood elf desperately pushed her body out of the way.

Teresa rolled along the pavement and heard the clang of steel on stone behind her. Springing back to her feet, she saw the Khajiit on his knees, clutching at his stomach. His weapon fell to the pavement with a clatter, and even though his mouth moved, not a sound issued from his throat.

Say hello to my friend nightshade, Teresa thought as she reached for another arrow and smeared its head in the poison. The Khajiit was no longer a threat, she knew, the poison would finish him in minutes. But the last bandit was rapidly closing the distance upon her.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 18 2010, 12:55 AM

Cliffhanger! And the plot thickens...Also, are there really black and white Khajiit?

SPEW!

"Say hello to my leetle friend...nightshade !!! Loved it!

Really intriguing fight, and a mystery man (or monster) !!!!

Awesome Write (as usual!)

I recall this scene from the original, and how it made my hands clench and my heart pound!

Good to see it's lost none of its magic.

Oh, and Destri, as a straight woman, I get tired of seeing stick-thin cadaverous women being held up as ideals of beauty. That's why I feel like celebrating when I see photos of women with more -ahm- normal curves being hailed as beautiful! So when you complained about androgyny, I figured I'd give you a break!

Rosa, sorry to spam your thread with beefcake. Oh the irony of it! Beefcake in a lesbian thread? (though I don't really see this as 'the' lesbian thread, just happens the main character is lesbian but who cares?) My apologies.

Once again, Raven proves to be Teresa’s salvation. That bird is certainly handy to have around!



This is a far cry from the timid wood elf that cowered in the dungeon. Who would have thought then that she would grow into a hunter so moved by the thought of a dead legionary? There was a time not too long ago when I imagine that she would have applauded that particular death. Now every legionary is Vols in her mind, worthy of respect and admired for devotion to duty. How wonderfully ironic, considering that he was the source of her earlier hatred.

I also loved the description of the delayed effect of nightshade (Handril’s Bane). Wondering whether or not the Khajiit would fall really heightened the suspense in this chapter. The question now becomes:

What will Teresa do against a foe encased in heavy armor?

This was a relaxing day picking 'shrooms until. . . then it became a heart pounder. Well done!

Yay, Raven!

You can run, but you can't hide. The beautiful and lethal long bow *sigh*

How delightful to see that Teresa has a touch of 'cuddly like a rattlesnake'.

She has really refined her skills, equipment and thinking - a force to be reckoned with.

Teresa's anger over what she perceives as the death of a Legion soldier at the hands of these bandits speaks volumes on who she has become - and it's all good.

Once again a whooping HELL YEAH for realism in a combat situation!!!

Excellent analysis of an attack against enemies foolish enough to be defeated in detail. Yep, that's the way to do it - to misquote Dire Straits, Murder for nothing, and Loot for Free!!!

This is one I remember from before, and it has only improved with time. The tactics and the specifics are all described with your trademark excellence. Naught to say except- S.G.M. (Please?)

double post

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 19 2010, 10:13 PM

Linara: Of course there are black and white Khajiit. Here's one with frickin laser beams in her head.


mALX: From here on out half of Teresa's dialogue will have to be bleeped, due to Tony Montoya playing her role.


haute ecole rider: Glad the old stuff still has the magic.


Destri Melarg: It is quite the dramatic reversal from those early chapters, when Teresa could imagine no worse enemy than the Imperial Legion is it not? She has come quite a long way since then. And you are quite correct, Volsinius is a large part of the reason why (although Bruma, Martin, and Julian also helped).


Acadian: Aww, now Teresa is cuddly too!


D.Foxy: I figured you guys needed some manly killing after all those chapters about relationships... The bandits are indeed not the best tacticians. But they are not used to facing someone who fights back either.


treydog: More on the way.


Next: After being ambushed by bandits on the road south of Lake Rumare, Teresa must now fight for her life against a foe wearing dremora armor.


Chapter 23.4 – The Rider

She stared at the armored marauder as she raised her bow. He was close enough that she could see that he was indeed a man, and not a dremora, for he had dark brown eyes. They burned through the slits of his helm with either rage or fear, perhaps both. She imagined her own green eyes looked the same as she drew the feathers of another arrow to her cheek and loosed.

He did not even try to get out of the way. Instead he continued to rush forward as the arrow struck him directly in the chest. The golden light of a Shield enchantment flashed, but the mithril tip punctured the outer shell of his armor. Yet Teresa could see that it stopped without going all of the way through. With one hand the marauder brushed the arrow aside as if it were nothing more than a mosquito, and now Teresa could see he was grinning.

"Now it's my turn play Bosmer!" his voice came in a low growl. "I'm gonna have fun with you before you die!"

Screenshot

Teresa turned and ran once more. She had been at nearly point-blank range, and the arrow had not gone through his armor! Her heart raced with something that was not fury now, and as her blood pounded in her ears, she wondered how she was going to stop such a monster?

Glancing back over her shoulder after long moments, she saw that she had gained distance from him once more. All of that armor slowed him down at least, while her own steps were light and fast. Once again Teresa was thankful for her years on the streets. A lifetime of running from the gangs and the Imperial Legion had made her fast. Fast enough to stay out of the behemoth's grip.

Just so long as he tired first, the wood elf thought. Glancing back over her shoulder again, she did not see any signs of fatigue in his metal-clad frame. All that armor must wear him down, she mused. Yet she remembered how effortlessly Volsinius was able to move in his own armor, which was even heavier than that of the bandit, given that the legionary carried a shield as well. This man seemed to be cut from the same cloth, Teresa thought grimly.

She reached for another arrow as she came to a stop and whirled to face her pursuer. Once again she dipped it in her poison before setting it to the nock. All the while the marauder closed the space between them with frightening speed. Yet Teresa's arms did not tremble as she raised her bow, nor did she hasten as she smoothly pulled it to half tension, expelled half the air in her lungs, and took aim.

His armor was too strong for a direct hit, she thought. She would need a shot at a vulnerable point. Such as a head shot, straight into the slit that ran down the center of his helm. Methredhel had always said to never go for the head, she remembered. But there was just no other way.

She pulled the string to her cheek and loosed. The marauder lowered his head just a bit. An instant later his Shield enchantment flashed, and the arrow that would have gone into his nose a moment before skittered harmlessly off the curved top of his helmet instead. Teresa could hear him laughing, and she felt her eyes widen as she turned and fled once more.

So much for arrows, she thought. Well, she still had spells at least. Calling up the magicka within her, she concentrated on her Flare and turned to face her attacker once more. Pointing her hand at the marauder, she opened her fingers and spat a bolt of fire at him.

As with her first arrow, he did not even bother to dodge the oncoming flames. Instead he charged directly into them. The Flare burst upon the center of his breastplate, leaving a fist-sized black scorch mark where it had struck. The bandit grunted, but did not pause in his rush forward.

Teresa sent another Flare after it with no avail before turning to run once more. Again she heard him grunt behind her, so she knew he was feeling something through his armor. But the magical fire was not doing anything serious either, she thought, as was evident by his continued charge.

Worse, he had closed the gap between them when she had taken the time to shoot. The clank of his armor and pounding of his feet were loud in her ears now, just a few steps behind. The wood elf willed her legs to pump faster as she sped down the road, knowing that to stumble or slow would be the end of her.

Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw him raise a clenched fist in the air. He opened his fingers a moment later, and white light burst from them, only to fall around him in a swirl of energy. Damn! Teresa thought, he knows restoration magic! He might even be using it to fortify his stamina as well as heal himself.

She realized that she was never going to stop him in a fight. Her only chance now was to outrun him. Why did she have to pick that spot to start digging for mushrooms? Of all the places by the lakeshore, it was just her luck to choose the one where bandits had an ambush!

That gave her an idea, and she turned to her right. Bounding off the road after just a few steps, she was into the tall grass of the meadows that bordered the lake. Directly in front of her was its deep blue waters. Let's just see how well he can swim in all that armor, she thought with a faint smile.

She could still hear his heavy steps behind her, even though they were now muffled by the soft dirt and the pounding of blood in her ears. Her breath began to catch in her lungs, and a stitch of pain was growing in her side. She was growing tired, she thought. In the city she would have lost a pursuer in the mazes of alleys and side-streets long ago. She was not used to this flat-out, continual running.

Then she heard the noise of something other than the marauder on the moist soil behind her. It was a low rumble, distant thunder. Glancing back over her shoulder, the ghost of a smirk crept to her lips as she saw the author of the noise.

It was an Imperial legionary sitting astride a white horse, galloping across the meadow directly for the bandit. He held his reins in the same hand that clutched his shield, and in the other he lowered a lance, braced under the crook of his arm. The metal-clad marauder must have heard the sound of hooves as well, for as Teresa watched he halted and turned to face the oncoming rider.

The wood elf stopped as well and gasped for breath. The bandit stood perhaps ten paces away to her left, his back now to her as he faced the approaching cavalryman. She fumbled a bottle from one of the pouches at her left hip and guzzled the blue liquid between gasps. At once Teresa felt herself overflowing with magicka. Concentrating upon the symbol of her Flare, she pulled the energy into her fingertips. She did not fire though, not yet. Instead she stepped closer and waited for the rider to close the gap between him and the bandit.

The seconds seemed to crawl by like hours as the scene unfolded in front of Teresa's eyes. She could see clods of loose dirt and blades of grass being kicked up behind the horse's hooves, while droplets of spittle flew from its mouth. The steel point of the legionary's spear flashed silver in the light of the sun, while the long, jagged sword of the outlaw glinted red. The marauder was moving now, stepping slightly to one side and raising his longsword. The rider's lance moved with him, its point ever facing the bandit's heart.

Teresa moved as well, stepping closer to the marauder, but not so close that she would get in the path of the oncoming horse. The legionary was only moments from striking home with his lance, and the bandit was moving his sword up in a motion that would sweep it aside with the flat of his blade. Finally, Teresa unleashed the magic from her fingers. A moment later it struck the bandit in his armpit, which she could see was only protected by mail rather than solid plates. He flinched as the flames seared through the weak point in his armor, and his blade faltered.

That left the cavalryman's lance free to drive home into the bandit's chest an instant later. There was a crunching noise as it pierced metal and bone. Then the rider was galloping between the Teresa and the marauder, drawing the lance tip out behind him as he broke away. A gout of blood erupted from a great rent in the marauder's infernal breastplate, and he fell face-down into the grass.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 21 2010, 03:09 AM

"Frickin laser beam eyes" - SPEW !!!! ROFL !!!!!!

And I'll have to read the rest later, working today, lol.

WOW!!! I never realised that just as there are hunters with double barrelled shotguns, there are writers with double barrelled posting abilities!!!

Now if only I had a double barrelled d -

Ahh, yes, the knight in shining armor astride a white horse!

I loved how you described the sunlight glinting off the red sword and the silver tip of the lance, and how the lance moved to keep its aim point over the marauder's heart as he moved to the side.

Just one thing I would like to clarify: just how close was Teresa to the bandit when that lance hit him? I can see this being very dangerous for her, since the impact of the lance with the momentum of a galloping horse behind it would send him flying. If she's close enough, she would have been hit by his body, or knocked into the path of the horse. On first read, that is the impression I have.

As for the running part that preceded the appearance of our shining knight on a white horse, it was very realistic. My own side started hurting, too! And plenty of OH S**T moments in the beginning, too!

Oh, and Foxy, you might want to start playing possum! They have a double barreled *cough cough* complete with spines!

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Nov 19 2010, 06:59 PM

Lol! Silly me, I have one of those myself...Probably fatter though. So Teresa is faced with a...hard to kill bandit? Deserter from the Legion? I'm guessing he didn't buy that armour, although maybe he did, and that means the Daedra are making deals with bandits...My head is slightly confused, but it was a good chapter.

OH and P.S. rosa... next time you have a character running away from a heavier, muscular, heavy armour bad guy, you might want to try two things -

1. running uphill. This is what I always teach my smaller female students - if you're up against Brutus Beefcake and retreating, run away on a flat surface, or better runuphill, but never, never run downhill. Even an out of shape heavy can catch an Olympic class marathon runner in a downhill sprint. ( The same principle holds true in air to air combat in a heavy vs light fighter dogfight.)

2. Trip him. A big athlete can do many things well, but there is one thing he always does badly - rolling up back to his feet after a fall. And perhaps Teresa might want to invest in a rondel dagger after the trip! (For a full description of how to trip and kill a much stronger, heavily armoured enemy, read "Of Blades, Fights, and Assassins by D. Foxy)

LINARA HAS A DOUBLE BARRELLED D....K????




:jawdrop: