Actually, I have heard of it ... but ... never had the desire to earn them myself, lol.

@mALX: I believe those wings are limited to men only. Though I don't know if it applies to lesbian women, as well. And blood isn't so bad-tasting after all, at least not compared to some of the other bodily fluids I've had the pleasure (not) to taste in the line of work.

Now, on to Teresa's story. The linking of the menstruation to the fertility of the fields bring to mind the ancient ritual of the Corn King (so called in some cultures) that has been around a very long time. The life blood of the king (who is believed to be intimately connected to the land) is shed to make the ground fertile, while a new Corn King is selected for the following year's ritual. In ancient times, there has long been a fascination with the fact that women bleed monthly without dying, which was a thing of mystery and magic to many men (and some women, too, I presume). Bringing these ancient human rituals into the land of Nirn adds a certain depth to the world-building. But I have to wonder if mer (apparently they cycle much slower than human women - consistent with their long lives) view menstruation in quite the same way as the old hunter-gatherer systems IRL did. But by having their menses at the equinoxes versus the solstices certainly raises more questions on the subject.

I was pleased to see mention of the Three Sisters. What a way to honor those who occupied this continent before us bumbling, clueless Europeans did!

GAAAAH! Foxy, get your clipboard out ... time for another survey.

I must have a bit of dylexia, because when I read this, I thought "Even if it was years ago, DONKEYS??!!!

A good description of using multiple crops to get the best yeild. Teresa's lack of knowledge of rural customs is fitting, she might know about the wilds, but rural life is rather different fro the extremes of city and country she knows. It reflects her background and development well, and I suspect she might learn some things which will be useful if she plans to buy that house for Simplicia...

Olava is certainly not what I expected, she is, as you said, 'down to Nirn' which is a great lore friendly line. She's another strong and interesting character for this piece. I wonder if her religous side might affect Teresa's own spirituality. I also wonder what danger lurks that she needs FG protection.

On the subject of alembics/retorts: the in game pictures aren't correct. They show the retort as a round bottom flask with a stright neck pointing upward. Similar glassware is usually used for heating things to collect gas, or for boiling away stuff or boiling under reflux if you chill the neck so the condensed vapours run back down into the boiling liquid. In RL a retort is essentially a rubbish still. In both game and RL alembics are stills. However the in game meshes look like an explosion waiting to happen (no vent and trust me an explosion with a glass still is no fun at all). Historially alembics would often have water cooled condensers to increase the rate of collection.

Old business. On the alchemy stuff, I'll take the TES/Nirn gear and the magnificent magic it can work over its humble earth counterpart equipment and results any day. Like I said before, I loved the alchemy lab you depicted Teresa using in the Fighters Guild - largely because it was familiar to what I play and love.


What a lovely and natural light flow from the previous episode to this one!

I loved the shire horse pulling the wagon and your whole concept of fall harvest and fertility and all of it. How very natural and beautiful that a Priestess of Mara impart the blood of life to the land which, in turn, sustains life.

The Tournament of Archers! I so look forward to seeing it from Teresa's perspective!

"They think Mara is nothing but the marriage bed. They're cut off from the land, and the natural rhythms of life as the seasons turn. Mara is the moist, black soil beneath our feet, and the green growing things that sprout from her fecund bosom.'
By Mara, one more reason for a wood elf to love Mara and her city!

Your portrayal of Olava was fabulous, made even richer by mention of Morcant.

Now there's an image I will be taking to my grave... corn anointed in blood from... that place?

Still, I've seen far worse than that at the movies. If you really don't mind a lot of blood and racy content, Machete does some stuff on the silver screen you wouldn't believe (you might want to bring a sick bag, though).

Bravil truely is a rough-and-tumble town. Despite the beauty not to be judged by the cover looks of the place, it is still quite a destitute city, and one not afraid to get its hands dirty (as my Bosmer has discovered).

I hope Teresa finds the time to watch the archery tournament. I'm not sure Dere will be able to, given he's on the run from assassins and an Ancient right now, so say hi to Buffy for me.

I, for one, am glad that you found a way to give Olava something to do besides walk around the Chapel all day! Having her make the rounds of all the farms, especially during fall harvest, is a great idea that adds ever more life to this world that you are creating for us.

I did find one nit:

I don't think the 'a' belongs here.


To piggy-back on what hautee is saying:

All you have to do is look at the various myths of ancient cultures to see the preeminence that menstrual blood had in their belief systems. The Maoris and the Ancient Africans believed that man was formed out of menstrual blood retained in the womb. The idea of human beings formed out of menstrual blood was still taught in some European universities as late as the 18th century. According to Norse legend, Thor attained enlightenment and eternal life by bathing in a river of menstrual blood from the ‘Primal Matriarchs’, who governed the Elder Gods before Odin brought his Aesir out of the east. Odin himself supposedly achieved omnipotence by stealing and drinking the ‘wise blood’ from the triple cauldron in the womb of Mother Earth. And Egyptian Pharaohs supposedly became divine by drinking sa, the 'blood of Isis.'

Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?

This post has been edited by Destri Melarg: Mar 25 2011, 08:43 AM

EW! Blech! I guess I wouldn't make a very good necromancer ... URG !!

D.Foxy: I love my Red Wings. They beat the Leafs tonight 4-2! Oh, you mean, those other Red Wings...


haute ecole rider: John Barleycorn must die! I have always loved those beliefs linking the fate of the land to that of its rulers, typically calling for the sacrifice of the king.

It was actually the ES lore that prompted me to weave menstrual magic into their agricultural ceremonies. Back when I was looking for a mural to put on the IC's granaries in the misty dawn of Chapter 14 (The Grandmaster), I found that Mara was not only the mother/queen goddess, but also the corn goddess. I am used to seeing those two roles separated, as with Hera and Demeter. So I was taken aback at first. But when I started working on this chapter, I realized that the symbol of the creation of life which the mother goddess' menstrual mysteries represent work perfectly in an agricultural context as well. It is just transferring what is typically seen as a human act to that of vegetation. I think it worked out very well, and this next episode will reveal that synthesis in practice.

I could not resist the Three Sisters. I learned about them when I was doing research on Bravil's climate, which I am patterning on that of coastal North Carolina - Wilmington in particular. I was looking at the kind of crops that are grown in that region, and I came upon the Native American method of farming. I simply fell in love with it, and had to use it.


Olen: I wrestled with how to write Olava at first, because she is not only a priestess, but the living saint of Bravil. I asked myself how someone would exemplify Mara's influence in daily life? My first thought was to have a zillion kids. Then I looked back at how Mara is also a corn goddess as well as a mother goddess, and Olava instantly clicked into place as the happy farmer.


Acadian: Funny that you chose the word flow there... You picked up on exactly the synthesis that I was hoping for between Mara the mother goddess and Mara the agriculture goddess. I am so glad that at least a few people saw that. It also does indeed tie Mara very closely into Bosmer spirituality, being that she is the fertility of the land. This is also something I intended, as it makes it easy for a Bosmer Witch to also follow Mara at the same time.

The Torment of Archers indeed! I know that Teresa will enjoy seeing other archers for a change, such as Daenlin and his protege Buffy. Who knows, perhaps Teresa will even enter herself?


Thomas Kaira: I hate to break this to you, but you were anointed with that same sacred flow when you were born, not to mention beforehand. It is the wall of the uterus where you were planted, grew, and eventually sprang from.


Destri Melarg: Thank you for pulling out so many of those references to the magical power of menstruation. I did not know the part about the Maoris. I have added it to my notes. I was mainly thinking of Hera, who gave her menstrual blood - "the supernatural red wine" - to the gods, which made them immortal. Not to mention she formed the Milky Way galaxy by squirting droplets of milk from her breast, not only giving us the name of our galaxy, but also the very term galaxy itself, which is from the Greek word gala or "mother's milk". There is also Kali, who invited the gods "to bathe in the bloody flow of her womb and drink of it; and the gods, in holy communion, drank the fountain of life and bathed in it, and rose blessed to the heavens."

None of this sounds at all strange to me. With thousands of years of medical science we know better how life is conceived. But back in the stone age, all people knew were that women had kids after they became old enough to menstruate. Then they stopped menstruating while carrying a child, and started again after giving birth. While incorrect, the logical assumption is that they were somehow using that blood to create the child.

What I find really amazing are the myths that completely take women out of the birthing process. Such as the Greek tales of Athena bursting from the brow of Zeus. Or Aphrodite rising from the foam of Uranos' severed genitals. Now that is really stretching things.


mALX: What does necromancy have to do with the very common belief that divinity with a female face is the force that brings life to the universe?


Next: In our previous episode Teresa set out with Olava the Fair of Bravil's chapel, and learned a few things about the nature of farm life and spirituality. Next she accompanies the living saint as she puts those ideas to use. Warning, if you are squeamish about women's spirituality you had better not read this.


Chapter 33.3 - The Blessing

They spent the morning rolling north along the Green Road. They passed one village after another on their right, and the land between was filled with tilled fields nearly bursting with their produce. To their left rose the green wall of the Great Forest, concealing all beyond within its shadowy recesses.

They did not pause on their journey however, and allowed the farms to pass by. Teresa knew those would be seen to by another priestess, who was being guarded by Pappy. Tadrose had the settlements west of the Bravil, including Silverbridge. Ancondil was across Niben Bay to the south. While the others were all spread out across the eastern shores of the lake.

It was a total effort by her guild. Once again, they were not being paid. Rather as with Aleron Loche and his fishing boat, or Alain Retiene and his paintings, their work as bodyguards would be repaid by free healing and spell instruction at the Benevolence of Mara in Bravil.

It felt strange to ride in a cart rather than walk. Yet the forester could not deny that they traveled much quicker this way. If what Olava had said about the farmers not being able to harvest their crops until she blessed them was true, then they would need to be quick. Else they would not be able to do their most important work of the entire year. Bringing in the main crop.

Magnus was standing at his zenith when Olava finally tugged at the reins to bring the cart off the Green Road. They trundled onto a dirt pathway that was little more than a pair of wagon ruts worn deeply into the ground. "Whoa, slow down there Button, we don't want you breaking a leg now," the priestess said, curbing the great horse's pace on the rough track.

"Her name is Button?" Teresa asked, looking from the Nord to the horse.

"Yes," the priestess smiled back. "Because she's cute as a button. That was the first thing I thought when she came out of her momma. Well, once we'd cleaned her up of course."

"Do you normally help with horses giving birth?" Teresa was surprised that a priestess would be part of an animal's birthing. Although the idea was certainly a comforting one.

"Whenever I can," Olava said as she guided Button to the wooden walls of a village. "It's one of the best parts of being a priestess."

The main gate of the settlement was already open. Over a dozen people dressed in weathered flax loitered there, and let out a cheer as the Nord guided the cart within. Homes of daub and wattle passed by to either side, and they picked up quite a crowd as they rode along the main street of the settlement. By the time they stopped at the far wall of the village, there must have been nearly a hundred people crowded behind them. Most were Nibeneans from their dark hair and eyes, but Teresa saw a few sandy-maned Bretons among them, and even one or two tow-headed Nords.

"Well you're a sight for sore eyes aren't you milady!" one of the Nibeneans exclaimed. His face was a road map of lines, and his hair grey as thunderclouds. "Bless the Lady for bringing you here safe and sound! There've been rumors of goblins and trolls in the forest of late."

"Bless Teresa here for that." Olava nodded to the forester. Teresa briefly fingered the Fighters Guild medallion upon her chest, making sure it was face up so that everyone could see the red shield and white crossed swords upon it. Looking across the sea of farmers, she imagined that it made her the nearest thing to the law in the village. At least compared to the City Guard or Imperial Legion.

Such a strange feeling! Teresa's head whirled as she climbed down to a sea of smiling faces. They were all looking at her like she really was a guardian and protector. If Simplicia could only see her now, or Methredhel!

"Now who shall be helping me today?" Teresa heard Olava ask above the chatter of the peasants. As if by the magic of her words, the crowds parted to allow a young girl to stride forth. Clad in a robe of white linen, she wore a garland of flowers on her head. Teresa imagined that she was in her early teens, and the olive-skin of her cheeks blossomed a deep crimson as she stood before the priestess.

"You have received Mara's blessings?" Olava asked, sounding formal for the first time since Teresa had met her.

The girl simply nodded in reply, and Teresa wondered if she was too embarrassed to speak. With the entire village staring at her, the forester did not wonder why. Teresa doubted she would have done any better herself at the same age. Let alone now!

"Well good on you!" the Nord laughed, and put out an arm to hug the girl for a moment. That brought a peal of laughter from the crowd, and even a modest giggle from the white-clad girl. Olava then led her to the cart and unfastened the straps that held down a small chest behind the seat. "My name is Olava, and what is yours?"

"Drusilla," the girl replied, her head bowed before the priestess.

"Well Dru, I want you to hold this aspersorium for me." The Nord opened the chest and drew forth a great silver chalice, engraved with images of a woman reaping wheat, corn, and squash and filling a cornucopia with the crops. She handed this to the girl, who nearly dropped it for a moment, before clutching it to her breast. "That's one big cup, isn't it?"

That brought more laughter from the farmers, and Olava turned back to the chest to bring out a handful of basil sprigs, all tied together in a bundle. She motioned for a villager with a bucket of water to step forward and fill the cup, nearly spilling it all over the poor girl holding it. That brought further exclamation from the farmers, and finally they set off into the fields with Olava in the lead, closely followed by her assistant. Teresa noted that many of the farmers carried large wicker baskets with them, as well as sickles and knives.

Mounds of dirt filled the field. Each was covered in tall stalks of corn. Bean plants reached up their lower reaches, and squash lay on the ground underneath. The Three Sisters, Teresa thought as she stepped past one such mound after another. It was just as Olava had described.

The villagers started up a song as they stepped through the lanes that snaked between the crops. Teresa had never heard it before, so she did not sing along. She was grateful for that, for she was finding it difficult enough to pay attention to her task of being a bodyguard, without becoming even more caught up in the rite than she already was.

She reminded herself of what the grey-haired villager had said when they arrived. That there was word of trolls and goblins in the forest. That would be the last thing they needed out in the open fields, with no walls to protect the farmers. With that in mind she paused to string her bow, then sprinted to catch up with the others.

She found that the villagers had changed their song to another one that she did know.

"We are a circle,
within a circle,
with no beginning,
and never ending."

As they sang, they formed a circle around Olava and Drusilla. Teresa herself remained outside, doing her best to scan the fields for signs of trouble, rather than stare at the forming spectacle.

Still, she could not ignore the ritual going on before her. The crowd parted to let Olava pass through, with Drusilla once again in tow. Olava dipped the sprigs of basil that she held into the chalice, and then began to walk around the circle with Drusilla following. With each step, she sprinkled the water to either side. Occasionally she would pause to wet the basil again before continuing on. When she had finally completed a full circuit of the gathering, she once more strode back to the center of the circle.

Now the singing stopped, and Olava lifted the front of her long skirt with one hand. Her other hand disappeared within its folds, only to remerge again long moments later. Now her fingers dripped red with blood however. She held her hand over the chalice, allowing the blood to drip down her fingers and into the cup. Then she took the silver vessel from Drusilla, and waited patiently for the young girl to do the same.

Finally Olava drank from the chalice, and even from her distant viewpoint, Teresa could see that its contents had turned scarlet. Lifting the great cup skyward, the priestess began to speak.

"I am the beauty of Nirn,
the black soil beneath your feet,
the blue waters around you,
the breath of life in your body.
I call to you, rise and come forth,
my children all.

For I am the mother of all,
who gives life to the world.
From me all things proceed,
and to me all things return;
and before my face,
beloved of gods and mortals,
let your inmost self be held in my grace.

Let my worship be within the heart that rejoices;
for behold, all acts of love and joy are my rituals.

So let there be beauty and strength,
power and compassion,
honor and humility,
love and purity,
mirth and reverence within you.

For now I spread my legs wide,
and bring forth the Red Wine of Life,
drink from its flow,
and flower eternal."

Olava now lowered the cup, and for a moment Teresa was certain that the priestess looked directly at her. The Nord's skin had turned black, and taken on the rough, grainy texture of loose soil. Her hair was a mane of green leaves, and her eyes were pools of liquid blue, like the surface of Lake Rumare on a calm day.

Teresa blinked, and once more Olava was her ordinary self, leaving the wood elf to wonder if she had just imagined the transformation within the priestess.

Olava dipped her hand into the chalice, then snapped her fingers above her. Droplets of red liquid rained down around her and Drusilla, only to be greedily sucked up by the ground below. The dirt beneath the two women's feet shuddered, then seemed to roll out in all directions, like the rings created by dropping a stone in a still pond.

As the soil arched, so too did the plants upon it. The stalks of corn rustled and shook, as if they were about to step forth and begin to walk. The beans quivered, and squash clattered together. All were filled with life and motion for that brief instant that the ring of power passed through them. Then they fell still and silent once more after it had passed.

Teresa watched as the wave approached her, eyes wide with wonder. Was this really happening? she wondered, or was she imagining it all? Olava's words from the morning came back to her ears. "Not simply my blood, but Mara's blood. It's the source of all life." Her heart raced in her chest, but not from fear. Rather she waited with breathless anticipation as the wave rolled toward her.

The ground flowed over her feet, and the leaves of the squash caressed her leather-clad ankles. Teresa felt something within her answer the call of the soil and plants. It was a cramp, deep down within her pelvis. It was not painful, but she could definitely feel it roil and churn within her abdomen. It felt warm, and spread across her frame like a cleansing wave. The wood elf closed her eyes and simply floated away on the feeling, letting the rest of the world slip away.

When she opened her eyes once more, she heard Olava's voice again. "The circle is open," the Nord proclaimed, "but never broken. Merry meet, and merry part, until merry we meet once more. For we are the people, the power, and the change. So mote it be!"

Now the farmers were breaking up, and immediately spread across the fields to begin picking the corn, squash, and beans. Teresa saw Olava embrace young Drusilla, and say something in the young girl's ear too quiet to hear. The youthful Nibenean giggled then, and then joined the other villagers in their work.

"So what did you think of your first fertility rite?" Olava asked as Teresa came up to her.

Teresa found she could not contain the blush that blossomed from her cheeks. She found herself staring down at her waist, where she knew the blood was flowing within her. "That was incredible," she began, and went on to breathlessly explain all she had seen as they walked back to the cart.

"You saw all of that?" the Nord cocked an eyebrow as she regarded the wood elf. "And you felt it too? Then you are blessed by Mara indeed."

"What do you mean?"

"Most people, especially the men, do not see more than a rustle of leaves or shake in the corn stalks," the priestess explained. "Like a wind had picked up. Usually it is the women who sense more, especially those like you and I, who are flowing. But even they rarely see me become the goddess with their own eyes."

"You mean that wasn't just my imagination?" Teresa stared at the other woman.

Olava shrugged. "What do you think?" was all she would say. Then the Nord was climbing up to the seat of their cart. "Come on, we have a lot more villages to get to, and not much time to do it in."


Notes: We are the Circle is a common Neo-Pagan chant, often used in festivals.

The ceremony is inspired by those found in Neo-Paganism, albeit shortened for brevity. Olava's invocation is based upon the Charge of the Goddess - originally by Doreen Valiente, and often adapted by others before I did the same to make it fit better into the ES universe.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Mar 27 2011, 02:48 AM

A well written part. You managed to make the ritual very absorbing. Teresa's split attention between work and it was very well done and seved to highlight the important parts.

You're melding of Teresa's neo-pagan inspired spirituality with the more structured worship of the nine was an interesting mixture and really adds depth to the setting. It also raises interesting questions as to origin, at first I was tempted to think it was similar to the aspects of older religeon which have been swollowed by newer ones (easter/eostre for example) but seeing as the divines are as old as Nirn it is perhaps more of a case of parralel evolution? Does that then mean that there is a lot more of Teresa's spiritualistic (if I may use the word) approch she has not explored relating to other gods than those whose spheres she has come across? Even Talos?

It got me thinking anyway.

I quite simply loved this! I found it both natural and beautiful. You have fully blended Mara with nature. As I said before, no wonder our wood elves feel close to her! I am so glad you have portrayed Mara in such a way that for Teresa to love her is as natural as can be.

It was fascinating to see the ceremony of bringing the life blood of Mara to the land, and deeper understanding shared by the flowing sisters of Olava, Teresa and Drusilla. For a moment I thought perhaps Olava was going to ask Teresa to contribute to the goblet of life's blood!

Yes, Teresa has come a long way. Out here at this farmstead, she's the law! You have really provided a rather noble image to the guild of fighters that is both welcome and fits wonderfully within TF. And once again, we see the FG contracts dealing in barter instead of gold. I also like how you displayed that Teresa and her wagon of cargo was just a small portion of the pre-harvest ceremonies that required the entire FG and likely full chapel staff to support.

And I fully agree with Olava. Button is cute as a button!

Oh, I believe the female face is the force that brings life to the universe...what I said was in reference to Haute and Foxy's comments.

Squeamish - yes, I really am (truth). All I know is every 28 days something is gonna come out and I don't want my food growing in it, and I don't want men peeing in it to keep the deer out either - GAAAAH !!! This ends my years of being a vegan ... the only thing left is a strictly fish diet, lol.

*

All that said, your description of the ceremony was breathtaking! You brought the culture to life in a way only you could - AWESOME WRITE, SubRosa !!! Just Awesome !!!

Drusilla?

Being a fan of Jean Auel books myself (shame on me, I know, I don't care) I always love my mildly racy rituals. This one certainly delivered; trying that one today would definitely raise more than a few eyebrows. Your version of Mara actually seems to be quite similar to the Great Earth Mother in Earth's Children, actually. I can definitely envision her as such a figure.

Is that where you obtained the inspiration for these rituals and ceremonies? They are mighty similar to a few of the things I've seen happen in Auel's books, and I would be quite happy to see this continue if you do. Word of caution, though, don't get too involved the enjoyment of simple pleasures as Auel did, though. That's a road I'd rather you not walk.

Olen: You hit the nail right on the head concerning Teresa's spirituality. She has a lot more to explore and figure out, especially concerning the Nine. I figure that the worship of the Nine (or Eight depending on the time frame and place), and Bosmer Witchcraft evolved parallel. The main distinction I see between them is that the Imperial Cult only acknowledges the Nine. Where the Bosmer Witchcraft worships not only the Nine, but also all the other Aedra who were part of the creation of Nirn. That of course reduces the significance of the Nine greatly as they are just a few fish in a very big school, instead of having the spiritual ocean all to themselves. Teresa of course, still has a lot of this to figure out for herself.


Acadian: You touched on all the things I was looking to convey in this chapter. Mara's very important role as an agricultural deity, women's important role because she is a feminine deity (not to mention showing that unlike in IRL Western Society, female-centric things like menstruation are not devalued). As well as the standing of the FG in the community as a whole, and the nature of many of their contracts. Plus of course Button.


mALX: Well, Teresa is quite happy with a strictly fish diet...


Thomas Kaira: That is Drusilla indeed. "We're going to destroy the world, want to come?"

I have never read any of Jean Auel's books, although I did see the Clan of the Cave Bear film. My writing about spirituality is taken from my personal experiences. Like the saying goes: write what you know. However, I am not surprised that how I portrayed Mara would be similar to Auel's Earth Mother, as I am sure we are both drawing upon the same archetype.


Next: Previously Teresa observed her first harvest fertility ceremony. Next she earns her keep as Olava's bodyguard.


Chapter 33.4 - The Blessing

They continued north through the rest of the day and long into the night, stopping at every village along the way and performing the blessing. Olava woke them before dawn the next morning, and after a cold breakfast of bread and cheese, they continued on their rounds through the farming communities.

Teresa had never seen so many farmers or crops in her life. As much as she loved the feeling of Nirn coming alive during Olava's blessings, the wood elf was relieved when the priestess completed the final ritual and they were able to lie down to sleep. Magnus had long since slipped below the trees to the west by then, and the villagers had invited them to spend the night within their walls. Teresa was also thankful for that, as it meant she would not have to stand watch. Instead she rolled out her bedroll beside Button's feet, while the villagers labored under the light of the twin moons to bring in their crops.

Teresa's sleep was restless, and punctuated by visions of bears that stared at her with quiet, sad eyes. They seemed to want to tell her something, yet as much as she fumbled to understand, she came away only feeling more and more confused.

Teresa woke late the next morning to find the villagers still laboring in the fields, and thanked her stars that she was not a farmer. She found that Olava was already awake, and was in fact working beside the villagers. Much to her chagrin, Teresa found herself coaxed into helping by the living saint of Bravil. Under the Nord's tutelage, she learned to pick ears of corn, and spent the rest of the morning toiling with the others. Olava seemed to think it was fun, and led the Nibeneans in songs. Teresa wished she could be so cheerful, but the truth was that she would rather be picking mushrooms and roots in the forest any day.

It was not until noon had passed that the living saint stopped to take a brief lunch of cornbread biscuits and bean soup with the rest of the village. Teresa's back ached from the work, and she found that her pale skin had turned beet red under the Hearthfire sun, and was beaded with sweat. She imagined that the sun cream that Morcant had taught her to make must have worn off from her perspiration. So she was obliged to use her healing spell to cure the sunburn. She followed it with her Bloom spell, and was finally starting to feel like herself again when she and Olava climbed back aboard their cart and clattered onto the Green Road.

The wood elf saw that the paved road no longer continued north beyond the village. Rather it turned to the west, and vanished into the depths of the Great Forest. They did not follow it however, and instead headed south for Bravil. One mile slid by after another under the loud clopping of Button's hooves and rattle of the wheels. Teresa recognized each village as they went by: Sandybrook, Twin Elms, Long Hook, and many others. They passed numerous travelers gong south as they were, and Teresa wondered if they were going to Bravil for the tournament. Some walked on foot, but most rode in wagons or small carts such as their own, and even a few rode horses.

They had just passed the hamlet of Springtree when Teresa found herself thinking of her dreams again, and the bears within them. Had they indeed been trying to tell her something? Or were they just figments of her imagination? The more she pondered it, the more and more a dark, foreboding sensation lodged within her heart. Until finally she told Olava to halt, and leaped down from the cart before Button could even bring her hooves to a stop.

Drawing the bow from her back, she fished out a string and set it to the nocks. Staring at the emerald wall of trees to her right, she reached into the arrow bag at her right hip and set one of the mithril-pointed missiles to her bowstave.

"What is it?"Olava said, and Teresa could sense the edge of uncertainty in the other woman's voice. "Is something out there?"

"I don't know," Teresa murmured. She scanned the forest for long moments. Yet only birds and squirrels stared back at her from the ranks of tall oaks and cottonwoods. Stepping down the road, she passed Button, and turned to stare east. There tilled fields dotted with laboring farmers stretched on as far as the eye could see.

"Something is wrong."

"Are you sure?" Olava said, sounding more confident now. "This is the Green Road. Nothing ever happens here, not with all the villages."

"I know," Teresa agreed. With settlements all along the road, it was as safe as anyplace in Cyrodiil. Yet she could not shake the feeling of danger that had lodged within her heart. "I'm going to take the lead for a while. Just go slow, and watch for my signals."

Olava shrugged, and Teresa could plainly see that the Nord thought she was overreacting. Yet Button remained dutifully behind the wood elf as she strode down the cobblestoned road. They went on that way for long minutes, until finally the priestess spoke once more.

"Come on back up in the cart," she said. "In all the times I've been doing these blessings, nothing has ever happened."

"Until now," Teresa breathed. She stopped and thrust one hand out behind her, palm flattened outward, in the gesture to halt that Pappy had drilled into her. When the clomping of Button's hooves ceased, the elf scampered forward once more. Now she crouched low, and angled to the forested side of the road.

Digging into one of the pouches on her belt, Teresa drew forth a potion bottle. Pulling the cork out with her teeth and spitting it on the ground, she raised the bottle to her lips and drank deep. A ring of golden light fell around her, fading away into her body a moment later. At the same time she felt the magicka within her fairly buzz with excitement.

These combination potions really did work, Teresa thought as she slinked forward once more.

Laying in the middle of the road was a dark brown lump of fur. A big lump of fur. As Teresa's quiet feet drew her near, she recognized the massive body, four limbs, and the long muzzle that extended from its head. It was a grizzly bear. She stopped at the edge of the trees, staring at the gigantic predator, and realized that the afternoon breeze was blowing from her to the animal.

As if it was listening to her thoughts, the bear sniffed the air. It was a rough, deep sound, and Teresa could not prevent her heart from doubling its pace when it reached her ear. The forester knew that she was about to lose whatever advantage of surprise she might have. Standing up straight, she brought her bowstring halfway back to her cheek and sighted in on the animal.

The grizzly's head turned to face her. Teresa's eyes met those of the bear, and the wood elf lowered her bow. It was the same eyes as those in her dream!

Now Teresa could see that the brown fur of the bear's flank was stained and matted with dried blood. Two parallel lines ran diagonally across the predator's face, red with blood and buzzing with flies. The grizzly came about, and the wood elf could see more fresh wounds on one of her forelegs. For now she could see that the bear was indeed a female. The grizzly rose upon her hind legs, and it seemed to Teresa that she was the size of a house.

A loud, ragged bellow escaped from her bared fangs. Then the massive predator dropped to all fours again and limped forward, directly at Teresa. The anger in the bear's tone could not be mistaken. Yet the forester thought there had been something else in the grizzly's voice as well: pain, and a forlorn sadness.

The wood elf slid her arrow back into the bag at her hip. Little use that would be, she thought. Unless the bear reared again to expose her heart, all her arrows would do was anger her further. She knew that she could probably hit her massive head, but even with mithril points, the wood elf did not know if her arrows could pierce the thick skull of the great animal.

Not that she wanted to harm her at all. That was the last thing the forester wanted to do to any animal. Yet the grizzly would be upon her in seconds, and from the look in her dark eyes, Teresa doubted that the bear returned the feeling.

That is when she thought of her Bosmer power to command animals. Would it work on something as large as a grizzly? Did she have any other options? Fixing the image of the bear in her mind, now calm and sitting peacefully at her feet, Teresa summoned up the magicka within her.

The grizzly was only a few steps away when the wood elf unleashed a spiral of green energy into her. Teresa held her breath as the magicka ground down into the massive beast with a flash of jade light. Then the bear's hot breath was in her face. She closed her eyes and silently prayed to Raven that her power would work. Otherwise when she opened them again, it would be in her next life.

The bear made a low sound. Not a roar, but something more like a moan. Now Teresa did open her eyes, just in time to see the great creature sit down in front of her, and rest her head upon her forelegs.

It worked! Teresa silently exclaimed. Yet the faint smile that crossed her lips was short-lived. For now she could clearly see the wounds upon the bear's face. They seemed to be made from the fingers of a hand, at least three times the size of her own and bearing what must have been razor sharp claws. Looking down at the grizzly's flank, she saw another set of those long claw wounds. Finally, there was a third wound upon one of her forelegs, this one different, bearing a semicircle of punctures. Like the bite of an overly large elf or human. Yet with fangs instead of normal teeth.

No wonder she was so angry and sad! Teresa bit her lower lip. The poor animal was clearly in terrible pain from her wounds, which were already attracting insects. She tried to shoo away the pests, but to no avail. The flies simply swarmed around her hand only to settle once more upon the exposed flesh of the bear.

Teresa knew she had to help the grizzly. She could not leave her in pain. Especially not in the middle of the Green Road! It would only be a matter of time before someone else came upon her, and that meeting would end in death. That the Bosmer knew as surely as she did that the sun would set in a few hours.

Screenshot

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Mar 29 2011, 02:08 AM

Below is from the last episode, I meant to quote it in my comment but lost track of it in the living depiction of the ceremony that left me awestruck. This little gesture was such a perfect little detail to slip in, so easily visualized in the readers mind - and one of the many little mannerisms and gestures that make Teresa so endearing.





In this episode - I would have to quote from the paragraph that begins "They had just passed the hamlet of Springtree" - all the way to the last word.

I was riveted and holding my breath through that whole section - powerful, POWERFUL WRITE !!! I don't know how you got the screenie - but it was a perfect addition as well - HUGE, SubRosa.

I agree with mALX, that screenie is brilliant.

I liked some of Teresa's thoughts in this part. For all she thought the farmers had a good simple life she now sees how hard work and dull it is.

Then the bear. I wonder where those visions came from, and what she'll do about the bear. I can think of a simple solution... but I don't think she'd agree.


I want that spell.

Again this chapter offers a suprise though. First the rather more interesting and down to nirn pristess then she doesn't have to fight the monster... I like it.

One thing did jar a little: She tried to shoo away the disgusting pests - in the midst of her feeling sorry for one animal she's hating another. It might be deliberate to show that she isn't equal with all creatures and that she has some way to go, but it struck me as odd.

What will Teresa do next?

I know what I would do! But that's me.

I missed two chapters this weekend?

Chapter 33.3

I’m curious, is Mara the only deity with a living saint manifested on Nirn? I know the game sees things that way, but you have created a mythology beyond what the game presents. Will you install Trevaia as Dibella’s living saint in Anvil?

Given that the ritual affected her in such a profound way, I think it might be interesting for Teresa to encounter Ama Nin at some point during her travels.

Chapter 33.4

Remind me to stay out of Bravil during Hearthfire! Between the harvest and the tournament Teresa must be having visions of growing up amid the hustle and crush of the Waterfront. And she shows that she is not completely open to giving her life over to the worship of Mara . . . what Olava sees as fun looks a bit too much like work for Teresa’s taste.

And why is it that I am getting a definite Androcles vibe from Teresa’s interaction with the bear?

A couple of small nits:

Since the word ‘noon’ is derived from the Latin nona hora (ninth hour) you might want to replace it with ‘mid-day’ to better reflect the Elder Scrolls universe.


You might consider adding she here.

Errandil is the living saint of Arkay. Couldn't find any others via wiki (yes, I was curious as well).