So, we have moved from an Almost Kiss to an Almost Roll in the Hay. Seriously, this was lovely! And a perfectly wonderful setting up in the loft of a stable on a stormy night. You painted the entire atmosphere inside the stable perfectly. I’m so glad they were using a glow stone to see by instead of a flaming lantern!

It was fun to hear Teresa review her past and learn more of Tadrose’s.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Dec 6 2011, 03:23 AM

I like the Nibenean farmer. It was a nice touch that Teresa didn’t get what he was talking about.

T & T learned a lot about each other in the hayloft, and the storm isn’t over yet. Hopefully no one from the village will have a hay emergency and spoil the mood. Teresa has summoned her courage, and it's going so well!

Well that made my dinner interesting... ...

*Applauds*...

Damn good job they don't have...Hay-fever...Allergies do you call it over there?...I'd be sneezing like a git... ...

Back to the...Nice one!!... ...

... ...

liliandra nadiar: When I was little my parents used to always say thunder was God redecorating, or the angels bowling. So I just ESized those sayings for T&T.

You had me rolling with the crowbar and dynamite! So correctly put. In some ways Teresa can be just as close-mouthed about her life as Tadrose.

I am not sure what to call gay men in ES. Since I went with sapphic for the women, it would be nice to name them after a male homoerotic poet. But I am afraid I cannot think of any (man on man just is not high on my reading list). Maybe Walt Whitman? He did Sing the Body Electric. Maybe I could elfinate his name?


Doommeister: Hey, I am not as bad as treydog! He has stretched out poor Cliff's neck by at least a mile.


Olen: I went back and edited that a bit, since I did not want it to seem that all young elven women were sapphic, but rather bisexual, or at least willing to experiment with both sexes.


King Coin: Unfortunately, Teresa talking about having dinner with Ancondil, and what a great musician and poet he is, did not help her cause for being unattached. But that will be dealt with directly before this chapter is done.


Acadian: Maybe this means they will be Almost Girlfriends soon? These past 5 episodes were a lot of fun to write, because of how much ground it allowed the T&T to cover in their relationship. To the point of being on the verge of really having one, if not already.


Grits: The Nibenean was mainly there to provide a link to the village that they were staying at. His comment about the hay being comfortable was also primarily meant to show that it was not going to be a miserable place to spend the night. But I could not resist throwing some married humor in there.

One emergency coming up! Although not a hay one.


McBadgere: Most of the elven races have resistances to diseases. Hopefully this will make lunch entertaining as well.


Previously On Teresa of the Faint Smile: In our last episode, the rain turned to a raging thunderstorm, and Teresa and Tadrose took refuge for the night in a village's stable. At Tadrose's prompting, Teresa related the events of her childhood, including how she outwitted Valen Dreth with the help of Methredhel, Adanrel, and Raminus Polus. Then talk went to their first lovers, and Tadrose revealed that her first was another girl in her House, when she was sixteen. She also confirmed for Teresa that most elven women are open to sex with both genders, at least when they are young and exploring their sexuality.

The next episode is a little long, but if I had spit it up into two, the first half would be been just too dull.


Chapter 41.7 – Nothing is Trivial

"It's a ship, a ship!"

The cry of a young girl's voice pulled the forester from her dreams. She felt Tadrose's arm stretched out across her waist, underneath the blanket they both shared. Teresa sighed. If only they had done more than just lay next to one another… Yet she knew it was a start, and a good one at that. For it appeared that so long as she did not push, Tadrose was willing to share her past with her, as well as her present. In the end, that was all that she could hope for. She only wished that girl's voice would go away and leave the two of them alone.

The dark elf's eyes opened an instant later, and she rose to a sitting position along with Teresa. Drawing her arm back, she rewarded Teresa with a shy smile, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"It's wrecked on the shore!" The voice rang out from beneath them. "Come quick!"

Tadrose pulled on her boots and gathered up her longsword. Then she slid down the ladder with a flash of blue skin and raven-black hair. Teresa followed after pulling on her boots, gorytos, and Thieves Bag. Now she was thankful that nothing had happened after all. At least now they still had their tunics on. Sparing only a glance at the pieces of their armor - stacked neatly against the hay - she made her way down the ladder. If it really was an emergency, there would be no time for donning the gear.

They found a dark-haired Imperial child waiting for them on the floor of the stable. She pointed out the open doors, toward the coast beyond. "It's out past the fields, on the rocks!"

"Tell the others," Tadrose patted the girl on the shoulder. "If your village has a healer, tell them to hurry."

Teresa sprinted out the open doors of the stable with Tadrose in hot pursuit. Magnus had yet to appear in the east, but the sky was clear, and the pre-dawn light was bright enough to see by without goggles or glowstones. Her boots flew across the muddy village streets, taking her to the gate in moments. She passed a few other villagers on the way, stepping from their homes with bleary eyes and confused expressions. The wooden gates of the settlement were open, and a young boy stood beside them, pointing the way to the shores of Niben Bay.

Teresa raced past him, and sped across the fields. Avoiding the gentle mounds of the Three Sisters, she kept her feet on the firmer ground that snaked between them. She heard Tadrose's steps behind her, and the dark elf's strong, regular breaths. Neither said a word, saving their breath for the run.

The fields went on for at least half a mile, then turned to scattered trees and brush for another half mile. That ended with a rocky cliff, as if some god had simply plunked down a gigantic shovel and carved out a chunk of Nirn there. Teresa stopped at the rim as the sun rose into the morning sky. She did not pause to take in the beauty of the moment however. Instead she stared down the precipice to the pebble beach, at least a hundred feet below. She instantly saw the ship, pointed nose-first toward the shore. The strand ended just beyond it, and the cliff-face jutted out sharply into the sea like a great hook of tall rock.

"There!" Tadrose gasped. She pointed in the other direction, to a path that led down the bluff. Teresa led the way without a word, and in moments the two women scrambled down onto the stones of the beach. Making their way across the strand, they finally came to a halt before the wreck.

It was not a galleon, Teresa noted, but a holk - one of the flat-bottomed river craft that made runs between the cities along the Niben. The ship's high prow and forecastle had collapsed into a shambles of broken timbers. Its single mast had snapped at its base, and stretched out across the water to the beach. Most of the overlapping boards of his hull were hidden by the waves, which washed across the top deck. Only the sterncastle remained free of water. There Teresa saw a lone figure, standing with head down, as if forlornly pondering the scene of destruction before him.

"There's a survivor!" Teresa pointed, and fought to regain her breath. Once again she thanked Pappy for his idea that she run laps around city. She never would have made a mile-long run before she had come to Bravil. Let alone had the breath to speak afterward.

With that in mind, she reached into her Thieves Bag and withdrew a pair of potions. Handing one to Tadrose, she guzzled the other. Instantly she felt refreshed. Her heart slowed, and her breathing returned to normal. It felt as if she had but leisurely walked the distance, instead of ran flat out.

She waded into the surf and grabbed hold of the mast. She could use it to climb up onto the deck of the ship. From there she could get to the survivor.

But Tadrose's hand stopped her. "Wait," the armorer said, pointing to the lone figure on the ship. "Look again."

Teresa followed the other woman's hand, and studied the man on the back of the ship. That is when she realized that she could also see the rocks of the cliff through his body. He was not a man at all, but a ghost!

"Damn," Teresa cursed. "Undead. Do you think he killed the crew?"

"Or perhaps he is the crew," Tadrose suggested.

"I'll need to string my bow then," Teresa said, turning back to shore. That is when a voice came to her ears.

"Help!" It was the voice of an ordinary man, with the soft, sing-song tones of a Breton. It came from the direction of the ship. The forester turned back, and saw that the ghost was now standing at the edge of the sterncastle's rail. He was looking directly at her and Tadrose, and reached out one hand in supplication. "By the Nine please!"

Teresa bit her lip. What kind of ghost cried for help, or swore by the Nine? She remembered the one time she had previously encountered such a creature. It has been at Castle Magia, and had nearly killed her. That creature had floated in the air, missing its lower body entirely, and seemed to be almost composed of mist. Yet this specter was clearly a man. Teresa could see every detail on his face, and every fold of his simple clothing. If it not for the fact that she could see through him, she never would have imagined that anything was unusual about him at all.

She pushed against the beating surf and grabbed the mast once more. Using it to pull herself against the waves, she slowly drew closer to the ship.

"Teresa, what are you doing!" Tadrose's hand clapped down on her shoulder, and held her tight.

"I have to help him!" Teresa cried, and shook herself loose.

"He's dead!" Tadrose replied, pulling herself after the wood elf.

"So is Cassius Longinus." Teresa said resolutely. She paused to turn back to face Tadrose. "But he was still there for me. I won't leave this man. I just won't."

"Teresa, look at him!" Tadrose insisted. "It's probably a trick."

"Maybe it is," Teresa admitted. "But I can't just stand by safe and sound when someone else needs me."

Teresa turned back to the holk, and pulled herself closer. The water rose high around her, first to her breasts, then past her shoulders, and finally the stones under her feet fell away. She was thankful for the Jewel of the Rumare - which allowed her to breathe the water - for the tide continued to crash over her in a steady rhythm.

Hooking her legs around the thick pine, she climbed up onto the mast and crawled her way along the rest of its surface. Then she was on the deck of the ship, and rose to her feet. The water swirled around her ankles, and she could see that many of the boards under her feet were warped upward, or completely missing. It was as if some great hand and twisted the ship this way and that, until the planks had burst loose.

A glance back revealed that Tadrose was following her, but still laboring in the surf. She was strong, but could not breathe water. Biting her lip, Teresa stared from the Dunmer to the ladder leading up to the top of the sterncastle. Should she wait for Tadrose, or go up to face the ghost?

She looked back to Tadrose. The dark elf was coming after her. Even though it was obvious she thought it was a fool's errand. Teresa was not going to betray that loyalty by rushing even further into possible danger alone. Instead she untied the flap that covered the top of her gorytos and slid it aside. Drawing Ravenfeeder from its depths, she pulled forth a string of Argonian spidersilk and set it to the sihas at either end of the recurved shaft. She followed with an elven swallotwail, and set the arrow to the nock of her bow.

By then Tadrose was clambering onto the edge of the hull. Holding her ready bow with her left hand, Teresa reached out with her right to help her. She was thankful for the strength enchantment on her thumb ring as she pulled the larger Dunmer aboard. Tadrose did not say a word as Teresa helped her to her feet. She merely shook her head, and drew her sword.

Teresa reached into her bag with her free hand, and drew forth another potion. This had a triangular shield etched upon its surface. She handed it to Tadrose, who drank it down as Teresa pulled out its twin and guzzled it as well. Tadrose held up one hand and signaled that she would go first. Teresa nodded, and followed the woman to the ladder.

Tadrose rose awkwardly, still holding her sword in one hand. Teresa found it no easier with Ravenfeeder, and was obliged to unock her arrow and hold it in her teeth as she rose. Once upon the sterncastle, Tadrose stepped forward with her two-handed sword ready. Teresa was right behind her, and set her arrow to the string the moment her feet were on the deck.

The ghost stood before them. From his features, Teresa guessed he might be a Breton. Now that she was closer, she could see that he had gone bald down the center of his head, leaving only a tuft of hair that went from his temples to the back of his head. His skin was lined and worn, and the clothing he wore was equally frayed and threadbare.

"Please help me!" he exclaimed. He took a step toward the two women. Tadrose shifted her grip on her sword, drawing the hilt up over her head and pointing the blade directly forward. The edge was neither vertical nor horizontal to the deck, but rather at a diagonal. She led with her left foot, and kept her right behind her.

The Ox, Teresa thought, one of the basic stances in longswording. She had seen Pappy and the others practicing it often enough. She knew that from that position, Tadrose could thrust forward, turn to make a diagonal cut, or draw back to cut up from underneath. She only hoped that the Dunmer would not have to do so. Just in case she did, Teresa moved to one side, where she could get a better shot at the ghost. If the specter came at her, Tadrose would have a clear opening at his side. If he approached the armorer, she would have the same.

"Hold on there friend." Teresa took her hand off the string and held it up, palm out, toward the ghost. "Why don't you just tell us who you are, and what you are doing here first."

The Breton stopped, and stared from Teresa to Tadrose, and finally back to the wood elf. "My name is Grantham Blakely," he said. "I am the captain of this vessel. Or at least I was until last night."

"What happened last night?" Teresa asked.

"I was murdered," Grantham spat onto the deck beneath his feet. The saliva was just as ghostly as he was, and simply faded into nothingness as Teresa stared. "Please, friends, lower your weapons. I mean you no harm. You are my only hope for salvation."

Neither Teresa nor Tadrose lowered their weapons.

"Salvation from what?" Teresa asked.

"Look at me," he said. "I am trapped here. We are all trapped here. We cannot escape and go on to… whatever is next."

"How are you trapped," Tadrose finally spoke. "Was it a curse?"

"Yes," Grantham replied. "A curse. Even now, I can feel its chains pulling down upon me, binding me to this place, to him."

"Why don't you just tell us the whole story," Teresa said. Now she did lower her weapon, and gestured for Tadrose to the same. The Dunmer had a sour look, but did drop the blade of her longsword. However, Teresa noted that the casual way in which she held the blade was actually the stance known as The Fool. With both hands on the grip, she let the point of the sword hover just above the deck. Yet Teresa knew that from that position, Tadrose could quickly counter in many directions.

"Well then, where to start," the Breton stared down at his hands. "Yesterday morning, we left Leyawiin bound for the Imperial City. We make the run every week. Two days there, two back, and one in between to load and unload. Sometimes we make side trips to Pell's Gate, or Sideways, and sometimes we stop in Bravil. I don't like to do that though, because I usually lose half the crew in the taverns."

"Usually we only run freight, like rice and cotton from Leyawiin. Sometimes we haul Akaviri silk instead, or Morrowind shein, or carpets from Hammerfell… Then we bring back wine and olive oil from the Imperial City, or clothing, or metals. You name it, and I've hauled it at some time or another. I can even change the hold over to stalls, so I can transport horses and other-"

"Just get to the part about the curse," Teresa interjected. She hated to be rude, but while he could literally stand there forever and talk, she and Tadrose would eventually die of old age. If not hunger or thirst. The thought almost made her chuckle. Who ever thought the undead would bore someone to death?

"Ahh, yes. I am sorry, my mind wanders. I keep remembering things. Things I had thought I had forgotten. I remember my wife Aodrena. She used to always care so much about the little things. Trivial things, that I was always too busy for. Like sitting together and watching the sunset. 'It'll be there every day' I'd say. But how many times did I ever actually just sit and watch with her? Half a dozen times? A dozen? Now I will never share another sunset with her again. Believe me friend, nothing is trivial."

Now even Tadrose lowered her guard for real. Teresa wondered if the dead man had struck a chord somewhere deep within the armorer? Perhaps something related to the secret of her past, that she could not tell anyone?

"There I go again," the ghost shook his head. "It started yesterday in Leyawiin. We took on a passenger. A Nord from the Mages Guild, by his robe and staff. His only baggage was a satchel that he kept with him at all times. He said he was in a hurry to get to Urasek, and paid us extra to take him there before our stop at the Imperial City. He paid a lot extra. I should have known better. I should have realized he was trouble. But all I could think of was what that money could buy for my sons."

"Everything was fine until last night, on the bay. We got rain on the river coming up here, but we'd been through worse before. But that storm that came up on the bay was a bad one. Really bad. Our passenger, Kalthar was his name, insisted we push on. I knew that was folly. Once we neared the mouth of the Upper Niben, we'd be throwing the hard six against the chance of crashing on either shore. Safer to just ride it out in the open water. The Emma May, she's a tough old bitty. May not look like much, but she's put together like a brick dreck house. At least she was."

"What happened?" Teresa asked.

"Kalthar bribed the crew to mutiny," Grantham explained. "Promised them a fortune. I knew right then that he was on the run from something. I'd never seen a man so desperate. But I couldn't make the men see reason. All they could see was the gold. Just like me when I first took his cursed self on board."

"But why would they mutiny, even for money?" Teresa wondered. "Surely they knew they'd be caught once they reached port?"

"These crews of mine, they come and go," the Breton explained. "I get to port and they scatter to spend their pay. Then I have to take on a new complement for the trip back. It's different men every time. A few of them I recognize sometimes. But I never know what I am going to get from one voyage to another. Most of them have no families, nothing to tie them down. They just go from one ship to the next. They can put aboard one for High Rock, Skyrim, or Morrowind, and vanish."

"Well, these dogs took me down to my cabin and tied me up, then tried to push on in the dark. They rolled the dice alright, and came up dragon eyes. We crashed on the rocks here sometime last night. I could hear the whole side of the hull just tear out, and knew we were all doomed. We foundered, and the water started coming in, even up here."

"I always kept a little knife in my boot. Just in case of emergencies you know. Well I managed to get it out, and cut myself free. Then Kalthar came in. He was wearin' some kind of strange helmet, like some animal's head. Well I didn't stop to stare, I just buried my knife in the fetcher's chest. But as he keeled over, he damned me, damned us all. This cold light came out of his helmet as he died. It liked to freeze me to the bone. It went out over all the ship as far as I could tell. Then the water came in, and that was the end for me too."

"But it wasn't, not really," the Breton looked down at his transparent body. "I found myself looking down at myself. I'm still down there in the cabin. At first I thought it was normal. I thought I'd be off to meet my ancestors. I thought it was all over."

"But it's not normal. I know I'm supposed to be going somewhere, but I can't. I'm trapped here, in this cold darkness between life and death. He did something with that helmet. Something to all of us."

"Fetching necromancer," Tadrose growled.

"Can't you just take the helmet and destroy it?" Teresa asked. "That might break the spell."

"I can't," Grantham shook his head. "He won't let me. He's a nightmare. If I wasn't dead, I'd fill my britches with dreck just to look at him. I guess whatever he did to us, he did to himself as well. But even worse."

"You said us?" Tadrose asked. "How many others are there?"

"We set sail from Leyawiin with fifteen souls," the Breton said. "Those who were on deck were doubtlessly swept away when we hit the rocks. But the carcasses of the dogs who were below are still floating down there. How many are cursed, I know not. But I did see some of them in the hold with axes and boat pins. They're ghosts, but can hold things somehow. I can't do that. I couldn't pick up a thimble now."

"Wraiths," Tadrose murmured. "That will be trouble."

"Are they as friendly as you?" Teresa asked.

"I think not," Grantham shook his head. "They are his thralls. I don't know why I am free of his will. Perhaps because I was the only one to defy him in life?"

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 6 2012, 11:41 PM

And so begins another twist on a familiar quest!

I loved how Teresa went from wishing something had happened to being glad it didn't when she heard that little girl shouting about a wreck. Made me laugh!

Loved how you began it with a shipwreck on the coast. Wonder if it is a ghost shipwreck? Or did things really just happen last night? As I recall from the game, the Emma May wrecked long before the game's timeline.

Not that I'm criticizing your planning of the quest, just trying to make sense of it. I have heard stories of ghost shipwrecks that keep appearing at certain spots along the coasts, and am wondering if this is one of them.

I did see one nit:
You used stretched out twice in close proximity. I think sprawled may work better in the second instance. Just sayin'.

Nice, tieing the Layawin recommendation and aspects of the Forlorn Watchman, should be interesting trip. Hope T&T are equiped enough for wraiths, as opposed to the trolls they were expecting. To say nothing that they're unarmored.

And the two Almost Girlfriends embark on the interesting start of what seems to touch several quests, ranging from the Emma May to a treacherous Kalthar to even a cursed helm. This is going be great fun!

"So is Cassius Longinus." Teresa said resolutely. She paused to turn back to face Tadrose. "But he was still there for me. I won't leave this man. I just won't."
. . .
'Teresa was not going to betray that loyalty by rushing even further into possible danger alone.'
These two passages brilliantly show Teresa’s willingness to help a stranger, but reluctance to endanger a friend. Well done!

’Believe me friend, nothing is trivial.’
Quite a full and fun personality you give dear Grantham in a very short amount of time and space. And we finally get a glimpse into the chapter’s title.

We have an enemy of unknown power, (but at least able to take over the crew of the vessel). We have our protagonists unarmored, except by shield spells. And a nicely confined space for the upcoming conflict.

We still need the reason they can't go fetch their armor, which will probably be the same one that says they have to do something about the threat now. Looking forward to that in the next installment.

And it's Kalthar? Hmmm..

Urgency could pretty easily be covered by the Emma May going under or being pulled out into the Nibiney River. Teresa could keep going with the aid of the Jewel, but you can't use a bow underwater, she could give it to Tadrose but then would have to let her face the whole thing alone. (Yeah, that'll happen.)

An enjoyable part, even if there was another interuption and the start of a new quest. I wonder if this might resurrect into the necromancer theme which has been dormant for a while. We have a mysterious helmet, a known necromancer and a boat which was wreaked maybe the night before but maybe not.


That the timbers are 'crumbled' suggests they are rotten and old. Makes me wonder if this might be more than expected, and whether it will result in a trip to Leyawin. But first there are some wraiths to squash, I wonder if they have the nessecaries.

I also wonder about what chord this has struck in Tadrose, and whether when she has time to think Teresa might realise she's been wasting time she might regret...


I like the phrase, and his use of it shapes his character quite effectivly.

-I am not sure what to call gay men in ES. Since I went with sapphic for the women, it would be nice to name them after a male homoerotic poet. But I am afraid I cannot think of any (man on man just is not high on my reading list).
For your naming gay men after male poets if you're staying with the Greek theme Straton of Sardis springs to mind as fairly explicit. Adaeus falls into a similarly direct bracket though I'm only aware of one verse by him.

This post has been edited by Olen: Dec 11 2011, 11:27 AM

Sapphic for lesbians and stratonic for gay? That sounds pretty good, I know I'm planning on using the phrase dibellic for bisexuals in the MF as well as sapphic, so now we have one for every one. Well, except straight, but that would probably be 'normal'.

Stratonic and Dibellic? I love them both! I should like to use the latter term for the TF as well, as it sums up Tadrose.

"It's wrecked on the shore!" The voice rang out from beneath them. "Come quick!"
Sigh. No real vacation for Fighters Guild members, as long as there are folk about who might need rescuing! Tadrose responded exactly as I would have hoped and Teresa was right… sprinting out in front of her? Go Teresa!! I love that it was she who had the right potions and took the lead helping the ghost. She did a little uncertain lip-biting, but she made up her own mind instead of turning to Tadrose for guidance.

"Maybe it is," Teresa admitted. "But I can't just stand by safe and sound when someone else needs me."
The Teresa Doctrine! Yay.

Tadrose did not say a word as Teresa helped her to her feet. She merely shook her head, and drew her sword.
I thought this was even more heroic than riding to the rescue at Castle Grief.

"Just get to the part about the curse," Teresa interjected. She hated to be rude, but while he could literally stand there forever and talk, she and Tadrose would eventually die of old age. If not hunger or thirst. The thought almost made her chuckle. Who ever thought the undead would bore someone to death?
I always enjoy Teresa’s little flashes of humor or whimsy. This time it brought out Grantham’s thought-provoking remark and the title of the chapter, but more importantly for me these are the moments that keep me interested in and rooting for Teresa.

Kalthar, Grantham, and the Emma May are familiar from the game, but by now I know better than to make any assumptions about them. It will be fun to see where the TF takes them. I’m most interested in how things play out between Teresa and Tadrose. Teresa seems willing to take some risks here, and Tadrose clearly does not approve. I’m wondering if she will put on her vice-commander hat, and if she does, how Teresa will react. I’m glad you let this longer episode stay as one, it is very interesting!!

Kalthar!!...Never liked him...Trouble I tell ya!... ...

So the Miss Wet Tunic, Bravil contest takes on the Forlorn Watchmen...D'yknow I've only ever done that one once...The Watchman I mean, not the Miss Wet Tunic contest... ...

Aaamywho...Nice set up...Excellent job...

Nice one... ...

The Forlorn Watchman! Less of a local legend and more of an immediate problem this time around.

I agree with Teresa that the ghost is probably no threat, but I’m glad Tadrose is still being prudent. I wonder if this is going to be an argument later.

I laughed at the chatty ghost! Poor guy still feels like he needs to make his pitch for business still.

Karlthar!

Awesome twist on this familiar quest!

Hey, 'Rosa! I'm back and I'm reading. I'll get caught up as soon as I can.

I've just started reading this and have alot to catch up on, so I won't leave any out of sync comments

But from what i've read so far Teresa is such a unique character! Shes very quirky and extremley likeable, and her reactions to certain situations are priceless! Also, she likes the ladies, which is always a good thing

Even though I might not write comments untill I'm up to date (unless there is a chapter I REALLY have to congratulate you on), I just wan't you to know that you've got another very eager reader here.

Incredible

This post has been edited by Tábrasa: Dec 14 2011, 02:53 PM

haute ecole rider: I never really thought of a ghost shipwreck. That would have been an excellent idea! I guess you will have to save that for the JF.

Like Caught in the Hunt, I had to throw a lot of what is in the game right out the window in order to make this make sense. Like the Emma May being wrecked for months, if not longer, just a few feet away from a main road and easily visible from the bay. Yet no one else in the world has ever noticed it there. Let alone why in the world is Grantham's ghost appearing on the other side of the bay and walking around? It is pretty standard ghost lore that when a ghost is trapped somewhere (as he is chained up in the hold of the ship), that they are bound to the area of their death. Hence Grantham being seen on the deck of the ship in the TF.

Good call on the stretchyness. I suppose it was my cat's fault. She loves to stretch out as far as she can when she lays on the floor acting cute. Until she rolls over and lays on her back like a pR0n star of course!


liliandra nadiar: I needed a reason for the crew to turn into undead. Apparently the devs believe that when someone commits mutiny, they automatically turn into a wraith (I am sure they based this on RL incidents of mutiny...). So I needed a necromancer, and I also needed a reason for them to be in enough of a hurry to risk the rocks in the storm. The latter will be revealed in a few episodes.

I also went back a few episodes ago, and had Tadrose describe herself and most young elves as dibellic when she and Teresa talked about their first lusts.


Acadian: And next an Almost Battle, against Almost Undead. Erm I mean a real battle, with real wraiths. That section you noted was one I worked on to show the two sides of Teresa in action here. On one hand she wants to help Grantham, on the other she is a professional, and does not want to jeopardize either the mission or her comrades by rushing off alone.


ghastley: I think we all know that Kalthar has the power of the unibrow on his side! And as we will see, there is no reason that they cannot go get the rest of the gear. Now that they know Grantham is in no immediate danger.


Olen: This is indeed part of that overall necromancer arc, which I am reanimating. Once we get the business between Teresa and Tadrose finished, I will be concentrating upon the necs until they are finished.

I worked on that crumbled part to make it more evident that it was recent, not destroyed by age.

Like I said in my last post, Stratonic works wonderfully. I am going to go back to the chapter were Ardaline talks about her brother in Kvatch, and use it there. I have also had ideas for the Altmer having the equivalent of the Sacred Band of Thebes - perhaps the Sacred Band of Alinor instead?


Grits: There is no rest for the weary. At least the ghosts did not walk in on them! That is indeed the second half of the Teresa Doctrine, along with what she told Morandil when she threw down on him last chapter: "I don't kill for gold, or for pleasure. I do it to protect myself and others."

That whole Grantham boring Teresa to death was one of those things that was not planned on. It just rolled out of Teresa's lips as I was typing. Like you said, it is those little quirks of humor that make her such an adorable character to me.

We will also indeed see Tadrose take charge, but perhaps so gently as not be too obvious. This episode in fact. Teresa is not an alpha male, so it is not like she is going to make a big confrontation over who has the larger genitals. Nor does Tadrose feel the need to hose down the deck with testosterone. That is one of the joys of writing the scenes between them.


McBadgere: So you have done the Miss Wet Tunic contest more then once? Teresa has in fact. This is her second time. Her first was way back in Chapter 5, when she went slaughterfish catching for Aelwin.


King Coin: I had fun with Grantham being a chatty ghost too! I wanted to show that he was not a threat, and try to make him sympathetic. I also used it as an opportunity to gently reveal some of the details about trade up and down the Niben.


Destri Melarg: It is my favorite trumpet-playing Redguard historian! I was hoping you might make an appearance now that the Fall Semester is over (or near to it).


Tábrasa: Good to see you enjoying the cute and often amusing antics of my faintly smiling Teresa. Her being a lesbian comes natural, as I am as well. You write what you know and all that. Given that you have found that out, I take it you have at least gotten to Chapter 5, when Teresa first meets Nerussa, and falls victim to her feminine wiles.


Previously On Teresa of the Faint Smile: Our last episode found T&T rudely awakened by the news of a shipwreck near the village. They raced to the shore, to find a ghost standing on the rear deck of the ruined ship, pleading for help. Speaking to him at Teresa's insistence, they learned that his name was Grantham Blakely, and that his crew had mutinied at the prodding of a necromancer they had unwittingly taken aboard in Leyawiin. Named Kalthar, this necromancer carried a magical helmet, and has animated the remainder of the crew. Next, Teresa must protect the villagers from the threat of Kalthar and his minions.


Chapter 41.8 – Nothing is Trivial

After promising they would return, the two elves made their way back to the shore. There a crowd of villagers had already gathered. The news that the shipwreck was infested with undead cooled the curiosity of the farmers. Especially when Tadrose told them that ordinary steel could not harm them. After they were assured that no one would approach the wreck until they returned, Teresa and Tadrose made their way back to the stable in Clearwater.

"Wraiths are more dangerous than the ghost you encountered in Castle Magia," Tadrose said as Teresa helped her into her armor. "They are tougher, have a more powerful frost bolt, can use physical weapons, and can silence your magicka. They can only be harmed by magic weapons, but at least we have no problems there. Like all undead, they are also completely immune to poison and frost attacks as well."

"I will make us some potions to resist their frost," Teresa said as she strapped a greave to Tadrose's leg. "And some others to dispel magic, that should counter their silence."

"Your bow's weakness enchantment should be strong enough to overcome their resistance to poison," Tadrose said. "I remember Hirtuleius could poison even Argonians with it. Just remember it will not be as effective as it would against others."

"How can it work at all, if they are ethereal?" Teresa's eyebrows beetled together.

"An ordinary poison would not," Tadrose said. "But yours are not ordinary, nor that of Ravenfeeder. When alchemists like yourself create a potion, you are really just placing a spell in a bottle. When someone drinks it, the magic takes effect upon them. That is what makes your poisons act so quickly, and so lethally. That magic is just as effective against a creature that is not of flesh and blood. Can you create fire poisons? All undead are vulnerable to it."

"I have some entomola cap." Teresa rubbed her chin with one hand. "I should be able to make some fire poisons with that. I've never done it before though."

"There is a first time for everything," Tadrose smiled.

They returned to the beach fully armed and armored. By then it seemed that most of the village had gathered at the edge of the cliffs and the beach itself to watch. Teresa was relieved to see that none of them had strayed too near the shipwreck. Instead they all stared and pointed at the wreck with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

Still, she saw that many of them carried wooden shields, and had armed themselves with long spears bearing wide, leaf-shaped heads. Others had nothing but pitchforks, sickles, or knives. So far they continued to stay away from the shipwreck, which the forester was thankful for. Teresa did not doubt that they could hold their own against bandits or goblins that threatened their village wall. But in an open battle against professionals - or the undead that Grantham said infested the ship - she knew they would be lambs for the slaughter.

She produced her mortar and pestle and went to the work of creating potions. That attracted the attention of many of the peasants, who turned away from the wreck to watch Teresa instead. She imagined that they did not often see alchemists at work, and tried to ignore them as best she could. The last thing she wanted was to become distracted, and make a mistake with a potion that she might just need to save her life.

She had created magicka restoration potions enough times with steel blue entomola that she was familiar with both the energy and alchemical symbols that lay within the mushroom. Coaxing forth its desire to flare and burn was not too difficult. It was even easier to do likewise for the dispel potions she distilled from her bergamot seeds, and those to resist frost from her supply of sacred lotus.

A burst of inspiration came over her as she stared at the freshly-made potions arrayed before her. Drawing forth Grognak's Bravil Guide from her bag, she flipped through its colorful pages until she came to the entry for morning glory.

"Have an idea?" Tadrose squatted down on her haunches beside Teresa.

"Something that might help tip the odds." Teresa smiled faintly in return. "If I can make some frost shields, then I think they will work in concert with the resist frost, and the regular shield potions as well."

"Double the protection," Tadrose grinned, and clapped a hand on the wood elf's back. "Have I ever told you that you are brilliant? Get to it then."

Teresa shook some powdered morning glory into her mortar and pestle and went to work. Within minutes she had produced a soft blue liquid that she poured into her potion bottles. Using her Mark Potion spell, she etched their surfaces with the standard symbol for a frost shield - a triangular shield with a snowflake in its center - and set them with her other potions.

"All set," Teresa said. She rose to her feet, and looked down the beach to the ship. The water had receded, and now she could see half of the hull rising above the waves. The clinker-built boards were broken and warped, creating numerous cracks and outright holes in the side of the vessel. Teresa wondered if those were caused by rocks, or if the hull broke up after it was holed elsewhere, and the stresses tore the ship apart?

"The villagers tell me that it will be low tide soon," Tadrose said, following Teresa's gaze. "We will wait until then. It will be easier to fight in the hold after all the water has drained away."

"I was thinking we might go straight for the cabin in the sterncastle," Teresa said. "It sounds like that is where the necromancer is."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Tadrose said. "I suspect he can move about the ship more freely than Grantham. We had best be prepared for anything."

So they waited, and watched, as the tide slowly crept away from the shore. Soon women from the village appeared with wicker baskets tied to their backs. Staying well clear of the wreck, they combed the strand for shellfish left behind by the water, throwing all they found into their hampers.

"It looks like now is as good a time as any," Tadrose said. Without another word, she bent down to the potions Teresa had arrayed before them and started drinking them one at a time. Teresa followed suit, and felt the magicka buzzing within her from the combined shield, frost shield, frost resistance, and magicka restoration effects. The remaining potions were split between the women's belt pouches, and then they were off.

Tadrose led the way down the beach, and the villagers let out a ragged cheer as Teresa followed. She wondered if this was what felt like to fight in the Arena? But she knew the farmers were not ecstatic over the chance to see one of them die. Rather they doubtlessly looked forward to seeing the safety of their homes assured against the threat of the undead that lurked within the wreckage. Now she fully understood why settlements far from the cities were always so happy to see a guild member. They were their best defense against the worst dangers of the world.

"Let us try that sterncastle first." Tadrose stared up at the deck of the ship high above. "Like you said, it might save us the trouble of dealing with the others."

The dark elf grabbed hold of the mast, and pulled herself up. Teresa followed, scooting herself up with hands and feet as before. Once on deck, they carefully stepped across the groaning boards to the rear of the ship. There Teresa produced a broad head and prepared it with fire poison. Nocking the arrow, she drew her bow back to full extension and stood directly opposite the door. Tadrose stepped beside it with her sword out, and flung it open. The dark elf then moved back, taking care to insure that Teresa had a clear line of fire into the cabin.

Teresa was ready to loose, or jump aside, depending on what she saw within. But nothing moved in the dim recess of the cabin. She nodded to Tadrose, and the dark elf moved into the chamber with sword ready. Teresa followed, and lowered her bow when the armorer called out that all was clear.

The room was a disaster, filled with splintered boards and scattered flotsam and jetsam. Laying on the floor was the body of Grantham Blakely. His hands were clutched around his throat, and his eyes betrayed a look of terror. So that was what it was like to drown, Teresa thought. Thanks to the Jewel of the Rumare, she never needed to fear such an end. Unless she lost the ring. The idea of suffocating on a lake-full of water sent shivers crawling up her spine. That was almost as bad as burning to death.

Teresa led the way out of the cabin. She found the nearest hatch and pulled it open with one hand. Tadrose waited beside her, two-handed sword ready. Again, Teresa pulled Ravenfeeder to full tension and scanned the hold beneath for any sign of movement. Yet the inky blackness was silent and still.

Teresa sidestepped her way around the hatch so that she could get a look from all sides. She was rewarded when a soft green light came into view. She knelt down to get a better angle, and was able to make out a glowing form hovering above the lower deck. It was mer-shaped, but missing its feet, and its legs seemed fused together into a single wide mass. Its upper body was proportioned normally however. She saw an axe in one hand of the creature, and wasted no more time.

The forester loosed, and watched her arrow spiral through the space between them. It struck the transparent back of the wraith and erupted in fire. A spine-tingling scream erupted from the creature, and it doubled over in what appeared to be genuine pain. It turned as Teresa readied another arrow, and moved to the hatch. Flames still licked its ethereal form, and Teresa smiled faintly at the sight. Tadrose had been correct about her poison, as she always was.

The wood elf rose to her feet and fired another elven swallowtail at point blank range. It skewered the monster as it hovered over the steps leading up. Again it cried in pain, and shrank away this time. She knelt down once more to get a clearer shot, and drove a third arrow into its back. Its arms shot up, and the axe fell from its grip. Like the ghost in Castle Magia, its body collapsed in upon itself, as if it was melting. A moment later all that remained of it was a puddle of softly glowing ectoplasm on the deck.

"Watch out Teresa!" Before the wood elf could react, she felt a hand grab hold of one of her dagger belts and pull her away. She tumbled back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a bolt of frost sprout from the depths of the hold and flash by overhead. She scrambled to her feet in time to see Tadrose spring to the hatch and drive her sword point down into the darkness. Fire sprouted along the blade, illuminating the name Anganar in the steel near the hilt. Another scream rent the late morning air.

With a rush of green light, the wraith burst from the hold and swept over the dark elf. Fire wreathed its transparent form, yet still it raised a large wooden boat pin, and brought it down toward the Dunmer's head. Teresa leapt forward, and grabbed hold of the club as it fell. She was not able to stop it, but at least pulled it off course enough that it merely glanced harmlessly off one of the elf's pauldrons.

Tadrose tried to push the creature off of her, but her hands simply passed through the body of the wraith, as if it was made of thin air. Teresa let go of the boat pin and called up the magicka within her. Concentrating upon her Burning Hand spell, she loosed the energy into the form of the wraith.

It screamed again as even more fire licked across its ghostly features, and lurched away. Tadrose pulled free, and Anganar swept out in a glowing arc. For an instant the wraith's head could be seen to cleanly separate from its body. Then like the first wraith, it dissolved into a puddle on the deck.

"I should have remembered, trips and throws won't work against these." Tadrose shook her head. "That is what happens when you get too accustomed to fighting flesh and blood enemies."

Teresa poisoned another arrow, and crept up to the edge of the hatch. It was silent as a grave within. Poking her head down for a quick look, she pulled back sharply as a swirling bolt of green energy sped her way. She was not quick enough however, and it washed across her features. Teresa felt for the magicka within her, but found that the power that so normally bubbled and simmered below her skin had gone silent and still.

"You've been silenced," Tadrose hissed. "Quick, drink this!"

Teresa took the potion the dark elf pressed into her had, and quaffed it down. She felt her magicka once again roar to life within her bones. Yet at the same time, she felt the enchantments of her potions wash away, as if carried off by the morning tide.

"It's coming up!" Teresa cried. Drawing her bow back to full extension, she drove the elven broad head into the body of the third wraith.

It cried out as the fire poison did its work. Tadrose circled around the other side of the hatch, just out of reach of the wraith's axe. It turned to keep her in view, and Teresa quickly loaded another arrow. Before she could loose however, the wraith gestured to the dark elf with its free hand. A bolt of scintillating white frost blossomed forth, and swept across Tadrose. The armorer shivered under the assault, but it appeared that her potions saved her from the worst of the attack.

Then Teresa's arrow was in its back, and it arched its body in agony. In spite of whatever pain she must have felt, Tadrose stepped forward. With one hand halfway down her blade, she buried the point of her sword into the creature's chest. Like the others, it found its final resting place in a puddle on the deck.

Teresa poisoned another arrow and drew her bow to full extension. She trained it upon the open hatchway. When nothing emerged for long minutes, she circled around to Tadrose and lowered her weapon.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"Just a little chill," the Dunmer winked jauntily. But Teresa could see that she gritted her teeth, and tightened up her torso to one side.

The forester breathed deeply and closed her eyes. She called up Bear, and felt the mighty spirit guide enfold her in his soft fur. Reaching out to Tadrose, she set her hand on the long, leaf-like plates of her cuirass. Drawing her magicka from within her, she let it slowly flow into the other woman. With it she sent all of her love and compassion, willing it to restore Tadrose's frostbitten flesh to its previous vigor.

When the world swam back into view, Tadrose was staring back at her in amazement. "Teresa, did you just turn into a…"

"That was one of my spirit guides," the wood elf smiled. She felt tired, as if she had just run a lap around the city. Yet at the same time she was elated. Tadrose had actually seen Bear within her! "Most people never seem to see them."

"That was amazing!" the armorer said. "But you need to rest a moment. Sit down, and I'll keep an eye out for more."

Teresa did as her vice-commander bid, and plopped down on the deck with her back against the rail. Reaching into her Thieves Bag, she pulled out a bottle of Tamika's. Taking out the cork with her teeth, she took a swig straight from the bottle. The sweet liquid delighted her tongue, and settled into a warm glow in her belly.

A little Tamika's always went a long way, Teresa mused. That brought to mind her first journey inside a guard tower, just after the Oblivion Crisis. She had seen Calindil - from the Mystic Emporium - healing wounded legionaries there. He also drank wine with a shaking hand to help relieve the tiring effort of healing others. Did wine have a restorative effect, like one of her fatigue potions? Or was that just her elven imagination?

Either way, she took another drink. Only sipping it this time, she did as Nerussa had shown her, and savored the drink as it gently rolled around her mouth. Only then did she allow it to seep down her throat and rest in her belly.

"You could probably use some of this too." Teresa proffered the bottle to Tadrose.

"You come prepared for everything." The dark elf looked down with a smile and accepted the bottle. After taking a sip herself, she handed it back to Teresa. "Do you have any steamed crab in that bag of yours? Or tempura with noodles?"

"No, but if we go up to the Faregyl, I can stock up on S'jirra's potato bread."

"I do not think we would have time to get back for your Orisimer's birthday," Tadrose winked. Teresa wondered what that was about as she clambered back to her feet and re-corked her bottle? Tucking it away into her Thieves Bag, she nodded to the Dunmer that she was ready once more.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Mar 25 2012, 02:14 AM

Be very careful not to slip in the ecto-goop.

I loved the interaction between T&T. A wonderful give and take. Tadrose’s experience, wisdom and caution play well against Teresa’s youthful enthusiasm. It all works very well and they make a good pair.

Clever use of field alchemy throughout.

A silence magicka attack! Surely one of the most terrifyingly helpless feelings for a mage to experience. I’m so glad that a dispel potion was the quick and ready treatment. Losing one’s other potion enchantments is not great, but beats the alternative.

And Teresa produces a bottle of Tamika’s from her magical Thieves Bag! An elf after my own heart!

Teresa poisoned another arrow, and crept up to the edge of the hatch. It was silent as a grave within.

Nice.

The two women make a wonderful team, calm and smooth despite the difficulties. Pappy would be proud.

The unexpected bottle of Tamika’s brought a smile! And Tadrose saw Bear when Teresa healed her, that sounds very promising. Hopefully she’ll see past her idea about Teresa’s Orsimer boyfriend. I enjoyed their teamwork in this episode very much.