Old business: The little 'song' for Teresa was simply my own vision of one of our elves prancing through a meadow at night.


Poor Teresa. At least she didn't say 'um, stringy wood elf and former street urchin at large'. It was great fun being inside her head as she interacted with Alix and Lucius.

This entire episode was a lovely indulgence into description, with far too many delightful passages to quote. Teresa really brings us with her into the forest as she makes her way from the Imperial City to the Faregyl Inn. Staying off the roads makes perfect sense for her (regardless of what the Imperial Legion says about staying on the roads if you've got to travel.)

I'm so pleased you are not rushing Teresa along, but allowing plenty of time for her to pick the flowers and experience Cyrodiil.

What's wrong with kissing furry hands?

Next, I hope she will indeed enjoy some of everyone's favorite potato bread.

Ah..Faregyl Inn. I love that place, and how easy it was to get those potatoes back from the trolls/ogres/what have you.


Sounds like someones about to be competed for...

Next: Teresa gets better acquainted with some of the residents of the Faregyl.

Chapter 24.2 – The Faregyl Inn

Within was a storeroom filled with barrels of ale, jugs of wine, sacks of flour, and all manner of jars and crates. Alix quickly navigated through the jumble of goods and led Teresa through another door that brought her into the large kitchen of the inn. Long tables stretched along two of the walls, and a great oven of bricks took up part of a third, flanked by an equally large wood-burning stove. Across the room from the stove were several large chests, which Teresa imagined might be frost-boxes.

Standing at one of the tables chopping carrots was a Khajiit with golden fur. She was dressed in simple tan work-clothes, and her hair was tied up into numerous brass triangles that were held together by brightly-colored ribbons.

Screenshot

"We have a visitor S'jirra!" Alix proclaimed as Lucius moved past him and through another door. Through its swinging boards Teresa could see what must have been the inn's common room, as it was filled with people eating and drinking. "This is Teresa, and she is someone special I should say."

"Oh my!" The Khajiit turned and her jaw dropped open when she set her eyes upon Teresa. "You look just like her!"

"Ummm, good day." Teresa's eyes darted from the Khajiit to the Breton. Now that his friend was gone, even the swordmaster had begun to stare at her. She took a step back the way she had come. Just what had she walked into? and why were they looking at her like she was a ghost?

"Alix, for a moment this one could have sworn it was her!" S'jirra breathed, her eyes practically glowing as they stared at Teresa.

"Yes, I thought the same thing too," the Breton sighed as he stepped nearer to the Khajiit and put a comforting arm around her. The Khajiit pressed against him. Her head fell to his shoulder, and he dropped his stare to kiss her once on her scalp. If it were not for their strange looks at her, Teresa would have found it to be very sweet and romantic. But instead she felt her hackles rising at the bizarreness of it all.

"Please forgive us, we mean you no harm," Alix said in that soothing voice of the Bretons. "I know this must seem odd, but you look just like our daughter. We have not seen her in years. We do not even know where she is, or how she is."

Screenshot

"Oh yes, this one is so sorry!" The Khajiit stepped away from the Breton, and with the cat-like quickness of her race she was standing in front of Teresa an instant later. "You must think we are all terribly strange. Please come sit with me while this one makes stew, and we can speak. Alix, get her something to drink, and fetch a stool for this poor girl."

With that the Khajiit was dragging Teresa across the room to a seat that the Breton almost magically produced, followed by a glass of wine. S'jirra herself brought over a loaf of bread which Teresa could see still steamed from the oven. The smell of potatoes filled her nostrils as the Khajiit cut her a piece and offered it to her.

"Here, try some of this one's famous potato bread," she said.

"So, you two have a daughter?" Teresa said, looking from the Breton to the Khajiit. She had no idea that the cat-folk could even have children with the other races.

Then she took a bite of the hot potato bread and for a moment she forgot everything else. The taste in her mouth was far too good to be simply bread. She had scarcely tasted anything so delicious outside of a few stolen sweetrolls, only this was not sweet and sugary. She was not sure exactly what it tasted like, but it was more than just potatoes. She thought there must be spices like rosemary and basil in it as well, but could not be sure. Teresa closed her eyes and savored the bread before swallowing, then chased the lovely flavor with a sip of wine.

"That was incredible!" she breathed afterward, looking at S'jirra, "how did you make that?"

"That is this one's secret," the Khajiit declared. Her ears perked up and tail floated high with pleasure. She looked as if she was almost preening, and something told Teresa that she had said just the right thing.

"People come from near and far for S'jirra's potato-bread," Alix declared with a smile. "Maxical used to love it too. She is our daughter, we adopted her when she was a little kit."

"Oh, so you adopted her," Teresa said. Now things were making more sense. The forester reached for more of the bread, but stopped herself when she realized that she had not asked first. For a moment she was afraid S'jirra would object, but instead the Khajiit beamed with what could only be pride as she pushed the entire loaf of bread in front of her. "I'm an orphan too, I never knew who my real parents were. Is she a wood elf too?"

"Oh no, she is a Khajiit," S'jirra explained as she went back to cutting vegetables and throwing them into a steaming pot over the stove. "But she's snow white, just like you. Except her hair, that's red as fire, same as yours."

"Oh, oh my," Teresa said as her hand reflexively drifted to her scarlet tresses. Somehow that tickled something in the back of her mind, yet she could not place what it was. "I did not know there were white Khajiit?"

"There aren't," Alix answered. "Maxical is one of a kind, that is for sure. The gods broke the mold after they made her."

"And a good thing too, the world could not survive two like that one!" S'jirra laughed as she stirred the pot of stew.

"Did she wear her hair in braids, with a headband?" Teresa thought out loud, wondering why that image had suddenly leaped into her mind.

Teresa heard a crash from behind her, as the clay cup from which Alix had been drinking shattered on the floor. The wood elf nearly jumped from her seat, but the wide-eyed stare that both he and S'jirra gave her made her pause.

"You've seen her!" S'jirra cried. Once again she moved with that blinding Khajiit speed, and just like that she was grasping Teresa by the arms, her eyes pleading for an answer.

"I…" Teresa stammered. She tried to remember where that image - no, that memory - had come from. Then she had it. "It was in the Market District of the Imperial City, at the end of Second Seed."

"Did she say anything? How did she look?" Now Alix was by her side as well, laying his hand upon her shoulder. Under any other circumstances Teresa would have jumped. But the emotion was so raw in their voices, and their eyes such a contrast of sparkling hope and empty dread, that she felt her heart tear itself open for them. Teresa wondered if this was how Simplicia felt when she went into the forts and Ayleid ruins?

"She looked well," Teresa said. It was true, but even if it had not been she would have said the same thing. She could see how much the Breton and Khajiit needed to hear that their daughter was safe and sound. She would not dream of saying otherwise. "She looked muscular. Not big, but she was solid, in good shape, like a fighter."

"It was early in the morning, so there was hardly anyone else on the street." Teresa went on, trying to recapture every moment from her fleeting encounter with the snow white Khajiit. "I saw her hair and I said it looked good on her. I remember she said we looked like twins. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now I see what she meant. Then I walked by, and that was it. Now I wished I had stayed and tried to talk to her more. She seemed… kind, like a good person. Do you know what I mean?"

Then S'jirra was enfolding her in a warm embrace, and Teresa did not know what else to say. Even though she could hear the Khajiit was crying, Teresa had the feeling that her tears were not a bad thing at all.

You brought tears to my eyes the first time I read this, it is still just as good. You brought the Faregyl, Alix, and S'Jirra to life. Teresa is as dear and deep a character as anyone could create - Awesome Write Sage Rosa !!! Just Awesome!!!

I remember when I first read this that it was one of the best crossovers I've ever read (and there's been quite a few, if EYE may say so ). I still feel that way - you've captured Maxical's spirit through Teresa's interactions with her adoptive parents. Beautiful!

I've said it before - Perhaps young wood elves are at their best when used as vessels to bring out the wonderful nature of those around them. Teresa certainly does that here. A delightful episode, and beautifully done.

Thanks for the yummy 'tato bread and wine!

Even if it had not been true. . . You made this one smile at the young elf's wisdom and consideration for others.

Since much of Maxical is written in first person, it was neat to get Teresa's impression of her as a tough little scrapper. We tend to forget sometimes that she is quite the little swordskitty - and in Alix, we are reminded where she gets it.

A good chapter. You brought those characters to life in a way that the game never can. Good job.

All: This was one of my favorite chapters to write. Not only did I get to do a semi-crossover (with the character in question not actually appearing, but being referenced), but I was able to use it to put a spotlight on Teresa's own relationship with Simplicia. Not mention just being able to do some chick-writing.


Next: we wrap up this chapter, as Teresa sends a letter home.


Chapter 24.3 – The Faregyl Inn

The sun had long since fallen over the horizon by the time Teresa made her way to the room she had rented for the night at the inn. S'jirra and Alix had spent nearly the entire afternoon and evening regaling her with stories of their daughter's misadventures, first at home as a child and then later when she was a student at the Arcane University. Each escapade was more hilarious and unbelievable than the next, and they even showed her the letters from Raminus Polus to prove them.

Yet as cheerful and lighthearted as the tales were, Teresa could not help but to see how much they missed their little kit, as they called her. It was sunken into the pools of their eyes, pregnant within every long silence, and laden in every glance at an empty chair.

Again, she wondered if this was what it was like for Simplicia every time she went on her expeditions? With that in mind Teresa asked for parchment, ink, and a quill as the evening drew to a close. When her newfound friends learned why she wanted them, they were produced as magically as Alix had procured her a seat and glass of wine in the kitchen.

So with quill in hand, she sat at the small table in her tiny room with several pieces of blank parchment before her. Drawing her oil lamp closer to the page to better see by, she tried to think of what to say. Yet somehow the words did not seem to come. What was she going to say?

Finally, she closed her eyes and just remembered Simplicia. She thought of all the times as a child that the old woman had brought her a crust of bread to eat and a cup of goat's milk. She remembered how Simplicia would hold her when she cried and gently hum in her ear. She remembered all those times she had yelled at her for being too wild when she was off with Methredhel and Adanrel. She remembered holding the old woman when she had told her the truth about being maimed, and her following skooma addiction.

Teresa opened her eyes and began to write.

Dearest mother,

I am sitting in the Faregyl Inn writing you to let you know that I am safe and well. I am half way to Bravil now, and should be there in less than a week. So far my journey has been uneventful, and the only excitement was a meeting I had with a legionary on the road.

She was a woman! I did not know they had women in the legion, but she told me that there were quite a few actually. I guess I just never noticed under all that armor they wear. She said I should join the legion as a forester. She told me they need people now badly, as many died in the battles during the Crisis. Can you imagine me in the Imperial Legion!

Valfreya, that is her name, mentioned the Fighter's Guild too. She said they were recruiting as well, and they would train me and make me better at what I do. I never thought of it before, but I think I might do just that. I know you think I am reckless sometimes, but I really do try to be careful. If they can teach me how to be smarter and better at how I do things, then I think it will be worth it.

Once I am in Bravil I will start looking for the Ayleid sites I talked about when I left. I know the ones I need to find are somewhere down here in the southeastern part of Cyrodiil, so I still think Bravil is the best place to stay while I look. There might even be people in the Mages Guild there that can help me. Herminia said that there is an Altmer in Bravil who is studying the Ayleid ruin of Anutwyll, which is right outside of the city. So I am hoping he will know more. See how careful I am being? I am learning all I can before I even go inside them. Maybe this Altmer will even come with me? Having a University wizard at my side would make it a lot safer I am sure!

I met some wonderful people here at the inn. It is filled with a caravan heading north. They say that bandits are becoming a problem on the roads, so merchants are starting to pool together like this when they travel and hire bodyguards to protect them. I have not seen any bandits myself though, so I am not sure if it's really that dangerous. But maybe if I do join the Fighter's Guild I might work some of these caravans, that way I can come back to see you and get paid for it at the same time. Wouldn't that be something, to be paid just to travel?

But I was going to say how the people I met here are so kind and generous. S'jirra is one of the cat-people, and she makes the most incredible bread! You would not even believe it is bread at all from the taste of it. It is like something that the patricians probably eat. I will bring some with me the next time I come back. I think she is married to a man named Alix. He is a very kind Breton. Apparently he's a famous swordmaster, although I have never heard of him. I saw him teaching a knight when I arrived.

Oh, and I met a real knight! and he kissed my hand like I was a lady! I did not know what to even say. His name is Sir Lucius something-or-another. I forget his family name. He is part of that new Order of Saint Martin the Chancellor created to protect travelers on the roads. I am sure that the Emperor Martin would be glad to know that people like him are out helping other folk in his name. I know his father, the Emperor Uriel, would be proud.

S'jirra and Alix both have a daughter named Maxical that they told me all about, and I think I actually met her in the Imperial City a few months ago, when I first came back from prison. Of course I did not know it was her at the time. She has white skin just like me, and red hair too. I did not tell them that I dye mine red, hah! hah! They told me all about Maxical this afternoon, and how she got into all kinds of trouble playing pranks at the Arcane University. But I can tell they really miss her and wish that she was home.

That made me think of you. I know you do not like me going off like this to Bravil, and putting myself in danger. But I promise it will not be for long. Know that I am doing everything I can to stay safe and out of harm. I will write you once I get to there so you know I am well. They tell me the post can be a little slow on the roads, so do not worry if it takes a while for the letter to come. You might even get the one from Bravil first, because I think they carry it by a ship from there.

I miss you, and hope I can come back to see you again in the city soon. I thank Mara for bringing us together. You are the best mother a girl could ever hope for.

I love you with all my heart,
Teresa

This has always been one of my fave chapters as well. The first time I read it back on the BGSF, when she started the letter "Dearest mother" - it brought tears.

Teresa may have only a faint smile, but she brings beaming smiles from those who love her. (us readers). She has such depth of feelings that one can't help but love her.

I second mALX.

Yes, that "Dearest mother -" salutation grabbed me from the get-go the first time around (and I'm not even a mother), and it still brings a pang to my heart the second time around.

Ah, back from the Holiday Wars! Nothing says 'family' like fisticuffs over stuffed turkey!

Chapter 24.1 – The Faregyl Inn

The sparring match at the Faregyl reminded me of the immortal scene from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid:


And Teresa . . . rendered speechless! By a man!! Will wonders never cease?!

Chapter 24.2 – The Faregyl Inn

This is one of the chapters that stand out to me in the TF. You show a great deal of range going from the epic grandeur of the Battle of Bruma and the Oblivion Crisis in the Imperial City to this small, intimate chapter of dialogue between three individuals in the Faregyl Inn. Even on this second reading, when Alix drops his wine I could feel the chills traveling up my back. Bravo, SageRosa!

Chapter 24.3 – The Faregyl Inn

Every once in a while you read something that makes you shake your head with admiration, even as you gnash your teeth with envy. This paragraph:

Has my head shaking and my teeth gnashing!

I also love how in Teresa’s letter she spares Simplicia the worrisome details of her encounter with the legionary. And I also notice that she lies to her about not seeing bandits.

Another lovely episode.

'He is part of that new Order of Saint Martin the Chancellor created to protect travelers on the roads. I am sure that the Emperor Martin would be glad to know that people like him are out helping other folk in his name. I know his father, the Emperor Uriel, would be proud.'
I quite like how you translated events that have happened in TF into logical and reasonable impacts. It makes so much sense that after his mortal heroics, there would be a noble order named after Martin!

Teresa's letter was wonderful. With as much storytelling and speechtagging as we do to include natural actions and pauses into dialogue, it is difficult to write a letter, where one assumes your character thinks before they write and perhaps even proofs (dare I say. . . edits ) their written word. The first letter I wrote in BF required many drafts, so my envy of your results comes from my own frustrating experience. You did a great job here at capturing Teresa's voice in the letter, while making it indeed sound like a letter, and not dialogue. Well done!

This post has been edited by Acadian: Nov 30 2010, 02:29 AM

Wow, very nice. We see Teresa taking responsibility for reassurance, and we know the pain that the odd couple bear from the loss of their kit. You bring the whole thing to life, adding those small, realistic details that make the world a bigger, more interesting place.

That will always be one of my favorite moments in the TF.

The explanation for the scarcity of Legion riders is a nice bit of world building- the Oblivion Crisis had consequences that are still being felt. The revelation that the bandit is former Legion and Teresa’s immediate thought of Vols are both interesting. He is almost as central to her life as Simplicia.



And now Teresa and Valfreya are even- though I imagine Teresa was simply being literal.

Again, the way you prepare for Teresa’s entry into the Fighters Guild is wonderfully complex. Membership in the TF is not a whim or an after-thought- it actually has responsibilities and consequences.

The ending of the chapter is wonderful- Teresa’s impulsive gesture of good will shows how much she has grown.

Hooray for the Faregyl- and Alix and S’jirra!



There was a moment in Roger Zelazney’s (ph) Princes of Amber series where Corwin explained his philosophy about fighting. Paraphrasing liberally: “It isn’t a game, and I fight to win.”

Teresa’s awkwardness as she realizes she is neither street urchin nor fine lady- (I started to use a more colloquial phrase, but my double entendre radar warned me off)- was a treat. There is a comfort in knowing one’s “station” and an equal discomfort in uncertainty. The other bit of information, almost lost in the shuffle, is Lucius’ appreciation of Teresa as a “maiden most fair.”

The whole scene as Alix and S’jirra stare at Maxical’s “doppelganger” is sad and sweet and wonderful. That is especially true as Teresa is able to see Simplicia’s fear and worry in the eyes of these other parents.

The letter was a masterpiece- I wonder how well Simplicia can read between the lines…

mALX & haute ecole rider: The" Dearest Mother" part always gets to me too. I was channeling my estrogen pretty heavily there. For this whole chapter really.


Destri Melarg: Your mention of fisticuffs over turkey has me thinking of dusting off some of my holiday movies, like Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, or Pieces of April.

I am glad you liked that one gnashing part. I put a great deal of time and effort into those few sentences.

Isn't it great how Teresa lies about anything that might even hint at her being in danger? Something she learned not long after she started hanging out with Methredhel I am sure!


Acadian: The letter was difficult to write, as I had to change gears from my normal style of writing prose to "letter style". I wanted to make sure it kept that "I'm writing a letter" voice through it all. The letter also received quite a bit of reworking for the TF 2.0 as well, to bring up up to date with new things.


Linara: One thing Teresa has always been good at is trying to make other people's lives better. To the point of breaking promises and outright meddling if she has to.


treydog: I always loved that "You're a girl!" bit as well. I had to work so hard to avoid Teresa noticing any female soldiers in all the new material just so I could keep it there. And yes, Teresa was just being literal about stopping to shoot. She is completely out of her depth when it comes to verbal sparring and stunning repartee.

You are spot on about Teresa's uncertainly over where she belongs socially. It is something I have been thinking about lately in fact. Technically she is still a member of the proletariat, as she does not own property, or even have a permanent address. Yet in the last few months she has made more money through dungeon diving than most plebians who do own land make in a year. So by the latter scale she could be considered an equite, the highest class of commoners.

And yes, I am sure that Simplicia is far better at reading between the lines that Teresa would like!


Next: While Teresa continues on her way to Bravil, Simplicia has her own adventure back in the Imperial City.


Chapter 25.1 – Unfriendly Competition

19th - 20th Last Seed, 3E433

"It's deader than the Reman Emperors in here," Jensine grumbled. The emptiness of the shop around her betrayed the truth in her words. The middle-aged Nord closed her eyes and rubbed her lined temples. She clenched her teeth with a grimace, and reached for a glass of water.

"That headache is back again, isn't it?" Simplicia asked, already knowing the answer as she moved to cover some of the glowstones in their wall-sconces. "I'll go grind up some more of that ginkgo, and you can have it with some milk."

Jensine sat heavily in the chair behind the counter while Simplicia went about her work. She was still there when the aging Imperial plodded back with a mortar filled with fine green powder in one hand, and glass of cow's milk in the other. The Nord took them from Simplicia without a word. Taking a moment to down the ground gingko leaf, she chased the powder with the milk and leaned back in her chair.

"Ever since the Crisis these damn headaches just won't leave me alone," the Nord grumbled as she returned to massaging her temples. "Of course that fetcher Thoronir isn't making it any easier."

"You still think he's a fence?" Simplicia offered, sliding into a chair beside the Nord with a creaking of old bones. She took a moment to massage her knees. All that walking didn't do them any good, she thought. Damn stonejoint, she silently cursed. It had been nearly five years since Teresa had cured it with a potion, and still her joints felt like they were stiff as a board.

Teresa, where are you now cherry blossom? On the road to Bravil? Mara protect you, the old woman thought, and save you from your own damn foolishness.

"That dreck he's selling has got to be stolen," Jensine grumbled. "There's no other way he could afford to sell it so cheap. Maybe that tribune Lex down on the Waterfront is right, and there really is a Grey Fox. That little fetcher Thoronir might just be him too! Who knows, maybe that Lex would actually listen, instead of that lazy bounder Audens Avidius we have here in the Market District."

Simplicia had to stifle a smile. If only you knew! she thought. It still amazed her how many pedites, equites, and patricians thought the Grey Fox was hoax. Every prole knew the reality. If it were not for thieves in need for eyes and ears on the street she and Teresa probably would have starved.

So how was it that she found herself on the opposite side of the street? It still seemed strange, Simplicia thought, working in a shop, having a roof over her head and a bed to sleep on - even if just in the basement storeroom. To think it was all because of the Daedra attacking the city!

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off Simplicia," Jensine sighed. She rose to her feet and made her way to the stair leading up to the second floor. "We may as well just close up for the rest of the afternoon. I think I'll go upstairs and lay down for a while."

"Want me to help you with the stairs?" Simplicia's knees protested as she climbed to her feet. Getting old was just not fair, she thought to herself, not fair at all.

"No, if I fall, I'll just take you with me, then where will we be!" Jensine chuckled. Placing one hand against the wall to steady herself, the Nord slowly made her way up the stairs while she held her head with her free hand.

That clannfear took a lot out of her, Simplicia thought as she watched the shopkeeper totter up the steps. Whoever would have thought that beating the monster on the head would crack your own skull open? No, life was just not fair at all.

* * *

The Copious Coinpurse was busy with customers as Simplicia made her way along the racks of clothing near the front door. Velvet, lace, and fine linen, she noted. All of it the price of wool and flax. Then she came upon a jewelry case and stared at the necklaces, rings, earrings, and other gemstones within. All going for half what they were worth.

How could he afford it? Simplicia wondered as she stared at the blond wood elf behind the counter. He was short for a man, shorter than even she was. Yet he made up for his lack of height with girth. The elderly Imperial imagined that his round stomach must weigh more than she did all on its own. He was clearly not going hungry from his low prices.

Who was giving him such a good deal for it all? Simplicia wondered as she looked around the shop. All manner of things were for sale, but most of it seemed to be clothing, shoes, and jewelry. Still, there were a few weapons, statuettes of various gods, some vases and urns, and other assorted knick knacks.

He could not really be working for the Thieves Guild, could he? They had always been too smart to do anything so obvious. She was surprised that the tribune Jensine had complained to was ignoring it. Unless he was being paid to look the other way? But how could Thoronir come up with the money for bribes if his prices were so low?

Well, there was one way to find out, Simplicia thought as she made her way out of the shop on creaking knees. Casting her gaze up and down the length of Commerce Street, her eyes ignored the patricians and plebeians making their way down the busy thoroughfare. Then her gaze set upon a narrow alley across the street, between a bookstore and a leather shop.

That would be perfect, Simplicia thought as she pushed her old bones across the street and found a spot in the narrow cut between insulas. Settling down behind a small mound of trash, she put her back to the wall and gazed back across the street. With the front door of The Copious Coinpurse square in her sights, she settled in for the night and waited.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jan 7 2011, 04:10 AM

So Simplicia decides to play investigator, huh? I'm already settling down for a delightful diversion, as I'm sure this is bound to be.

And would Simplicia tell Teresa about this adventure of hers? Or will she avoid making Teresa worry about her? Now who'd be protecting whom?

Miss Jane Marple and Jessica Fletcher watch out, here comes Simplicia!! This promises to be one of the more memorable adventures in the TF (and that is saying something). I love how you tied in Simplicia’s investigation of Thoronir to her inside knowledge of the inner workings of the Thieves Guild, while also commenting on the irony of her current circumstance working in Jensine’s shop. I still can’t decide whether she’s investigating out of some need to exonerate the Gray Fox, or if she is motivated by the guilt felt seeing the Gray Fox from the perspective of a shop keeper. Either way, it just works! The only problem I have now is that I can't help picturing Angela Lansbury as Simplicia!!

A nit:

That would be perfect, perhaps?

GAAAH!!! Agarmir and his henchmen will hurt Simplicia !!!!! I hope Teresa gets back in time to save her!!! (Or Vols does) Great Chapter Sage Rosa !!! ... Cliffhanging, though, knowing Simplicia is walking into danger !!!! GAAAH!!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Dec 1 2010, 09:49 PM

Thank you for pausing to let Simplicia regale us with an adventure! Much to like here indeed.

I quite loved Simplicia's 'drifting' thoughts as she was talking with Jensine - - - - oh my goodness, I love it! Every bit as wonderful as a butterfly, and how clever an appellation for a wood elf. I so hope this nickname for Teresa sticks!

Oh, anyway. . . back to. . . where was I? It's ok Simplicia, I understand.

I'm not sure if it was your intent, but I enjoyed how you showed Thoronir's prosperity, in part, via his belly. I expect in TF, money = food = belly. Suntanned skinny blondes had to be poor dirt farmers laboring in the sun for their food. Now. . . Teresa, with that Arimer skin and loads of gold just needs to start eating a lot (and not start that jogging program of course) and she can look like real wealth!

Oh, and I like Jensine as well!

As said above, visions of Jessica Fletcher dance through my head. Uh oh. . . I'm reminded that Mrs Acadian figures out whodunit 12 minutes into Murder She Wrote. Poor me feels lucky to understand it when Jessica announces it at 54 minutes into the mystery.

haute ecole rider: I don't think Simplicia will be able to keep Teresa from finding out about her little adventure. Otherwise, she probably would not mention it!


Destri Melarg: That would be perfect indeed. Funny thing is I saw that and edited it before I saw your comment. You must have been posting at the same time I was fixing it.

Simplicia's motivations will become crystal clear this segment. Rest assured, she is not as idealistic as Teresa.

Oh, and I have added Miss Jane Marple to my netflix queue thanks to your mention.


mALX: That you Agarmir? Nope, not this time around, as this episode will reveal.


Acadian: I thought of cherry blossom about a month ago, and worked it into some of the older chapters already. It seems the perfect pet name, given the white petals of the flower, and Teresa's white skin.

In some societies being overweight is exactly that, a sign of prosperity. The Venus of Willendorf statuettes are a dramatic example (being not only fat, but pregnant). I was not really trying to do any world-building concerning Valenwood though. Thoronir always struck me as being fat in the game.


Next: After speaking with Jensine, Simplicia decided to investigate Thoronir. Next she learns the source of Thoronir's goods.


Chapter 25.2 – Unfriendly Competition


Like most shopkeepers, Thoronir locked up his doors at six bells. From there Simplicia followed him to the The Merchants Inn. There he attacked a plate of roast boar and mashed potatoes with gusto, and washed it down with several mugs of ale. She was careful to stay out of his sight, and nursed a cup of milk the entire time. The barmaid gave her a dirty look, which she gave right back. She was not rich enough to be throwing around her drakes in such a fancy place. Not when she could get the same from a street vendor for one quarter the price.

After a few hours of drinking and hobnobbing with several other Bosmer men, the shopkeeper made his way out the front door. Simplicia took her time following, and just caught sight of him turning off Market Way and back onto Commerce Street as she stepped outside the inn. Willing her aching knees to follow, she plodded after him.

The street was nearly empty, with only a few pedestrians and carriages going to and fro. It was a stark contrast to how packed it was during the day, when all the shops were open. While that made the walking easier, it also meant that she had to be extra careful in her efforts to shadow the Bosmer shopkeeper. For there was far less of a crowd for her to vanish into now.

The sun was lowering over the district wall by the time Thoronir made his way into the alley behind Rindir's Staffs. Simplicia followed from a distance, and saw that a Dunmer was standing there next to the well that the local shops all used for their water. Thoronir walked up to the man, and began speaking in a hushed tone.

It was too quiet for her to hear, so Simplicia risked sneaking forward. She stayed close to the piles of trash and empty crates that lined the sides of the alley. Shadow hide me, she thought to herself. Perhaps Nocturnal was indeed with her, for neither man took notice of her as she slinked into earshot.

"I don't know Dreth," Thoronir was talking. "I don't need more clothing. And why do we have to meet like this? Why don't you just come by the shop?"

"I told you, this is how we do business here in the Imperial City, you backcountry hick!" the Dunmer spat back. "If you don't like it, go back to Valenwood, or whatever hole you came from! I'll take my goods to that Jensine instead, and she'll be the one selling on the cheap and still raking in the septims."

"Fine, fine, you made your point," the Bosmer sighed, his shoulders visibly slumping in defeat. "What time tomorrow night then?"

"We should be done and back here by midnight." The Dunmer stepped closer, and Simplicia thought she saw the gleam of steel in his hand. "You just keep your mouth shut and be here. If not, I'll come looking for you."

"Alright, alright!" Thoronir exclaimed. The fat Bosmer tried to back away from the other man, but found himself trapped against the edge of the well. The Dunmer took a step closer, and now Simplicia could plainly see the knife in his hand. With a long, double-edged blade, it tapered to a sharp point, like a stretched out triangle. It glinted wickedly in the light of the setting sun as the dark elf held it up in front of the merchant's face.

"That's right you filthy little harlot, now you're going to pay," the husky voice of the dark elf slashed through the pounding of blood in Simplicia's ears. He held the knife in front of her eyes, turning it this way and that, so she could see every razor-sharp inch of it. She tried to scream as the dagger moved slowly over her naked body, but the gag in her mouth turned her cries into nothing more than muffled groans.

She felt the steel point brush against the bare skin between her breasts, and stared down with wide eyes as it traced a line down her flesh. It only touched her skin, but did not break the surface, not yet at least. Her arms and legs strained against the cords that bound them to the bedposts, but to no avail. She was completely helpless.

"Oh don't pretend like you're innocent. You have it coming. You all have it coming," the dark elf hissed like a serpent. Then the knife drifted even lower, between her legs. "Now let's see just how ripe you really are…"

Simplicia had to cover her mouth to stifle the scream that would have torn through her lips. Her body was shaking like a leaf, and sweat dripped from her forehead. Twenty years, and still that cursed elf haunted her memories. Was there no escape? or would she still be reliving that night until she died?

She wanted skooma. She could almost taste its sweet nectar on her lips. She had money in her pocket, and knew it would not be hard to find someone selling in the Arena District. All she had to do was walk over there, and the nightmares would end, at least for a while.

No, the aged Imperial told herself, not again. Things were going too good for her to ruin it all now. That damn elf had taken too much of her life as it was. She was not going to let his ghost take the rest. Not again.

Looking around the alley, she found that the Bosmer shopkeeper had vanished. Her heart sank in her chest. She had lost her chance to find out what he was up to because of her own damned terrors! Then the sound of cloth scuffing on stone came to her ears. Turning her head to the other end of the narrow street, she saw the silhouette of a slender man etched starkly in the mouth of the alley. A moment later he vanished onto Market Way, and Simplicia pulled herself up to her feet.

Forcing her stiff joints into motion, the old Imperial winced with every step she had to take. Yet take them she did. This was her only chance to find out what Thoronir was up to, and save her job while she was at it. For she did not need a university mage to tell her what would happen if Jensine could not make enough money to pay the rent. They would both be out on the street.

She was not going to allow that to happen. She was not going back to the gutter, not again.

The image of Teresa came to the old woman's mind as she exited the alley onto Market Way. She would pay for an inn, Simplicia knew, or even an apartment. But she could not let the young wood elf do that. She could not let herself be more of a burden than she already was. Teresa had her entire life ahead of her, and should not have any of it spoiled because of an old git like herself.

With an effort Simplicia pushed Teresa from her mind and concentrated on the street. Thanks to the light traffic, she could see the Dunmer ahead. What had Thoronir called him, Dreth? He seemed to be the one behind whatever they were doing - the source of the stolen goods. If indeed they were stolen. He was the key. She just had to make sure she did not lose him.