Teresa of the Faint Smile, Adventures of a Stringy Bosmer Options

[SubRosa]

Hi all, welcome to Teresa 2.0. Some of you may recognize the stringy wood elf this fan fic is about from another forum. I am going to start reposting her adventures here. However, I have taken this opportunity
for a fresh start to go back over the story and do some work on it. Starting with an entirely new scene, which you see below.

I have decided to give up the idea of breaking things up into separate Acts like I did with Not A Hero and Moving Through Darkness. It was probably a little confusing. Instead I am just going to go with a single title and let it go on as long as it needs to, hence the new name.

You will also find that the first half of what used to be called Not A Hero has been heavily edited. Hopefully an improvement! The rest of the story will also receive a facelift, although generally not as great. There will probably be a few more entirely new chapters turning up between some of the old ones as well. So this is not the same story you might have seen on the other forum.


For people new to the TF, you might find it easier to catch up with the cliff notes version in the spoiler tags below:




* * *

Chapter 1 –Warning

12th Second Seed, 3E433

The harsh croaking of a raven prompted Teresa to raise her green eyes from the only slightly bruised apple that she was eating. The alley behind the Tiber Septim Hotel was narrow, a thin gouge cut between massive stone buildings that loomed high to either side and cast its depths into dim shadow. Sacks filled with trash dotted the length of the lane, clustered in small islands near the back doors of every business and home.

The pale wood elf stood at one such mound of garbage, filled with slops and other castoffs. Rich people threw away the best food, she knew, making the back streets here in the Talos Plaza district a practical gold mine for street urchins like herself.

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Her scavenged lunch fell from suddenly nerveless fingers however, as she gazed down the alley and saw the figure of a man running in the shadows. He was clad in plain linens, the clothing of an ordinary plebeian. But there was nothing ordinary about the way he held a drawn sword in his hand, nor the blood that stained it.

Before the elf could bolt and run herself, the interloper was upon her. Now she could see he was an Imperial by his olive skin and dark hair. He reached out to her with his free hand, and as Teresa backed away she realized that it was not only his sword that was washed in blood, but the front of his tunic as well.

"You must warn them!" the Imperial croaked through the blood that flowed from his mouth. As she stared with wide eyes, Teresa was certain she could see tiny bubbles of air bursting up from the red flow. She had seen that before, from deep knife wounds to the chest. He was a dead man, she thought, he just did not know it yet.

His hand clutched at the shabby tunic of worn sack cloth that Teresa wore, grabbing a handful of the rough material. Teresa nearly jumped as his fingers pressed against one of her breasts. The sword fell from his other hand with a clatter of steel on stone, and the Imperial dropped to his knees, collapsing into her.

Teresa stared with wide eyes at the dying man, whose head was now buried in the valley between her small breasts. Her heart raced like a wild horse, and she felt her skin grow cold as Skyrim. Try as she might to flee, her feet seemed rooted to the spot however. All she could do was gape in growing horror as the man clutched at her willowy frame and spat blood over her already bedraggled clothing.

The sound of footsteps caused her to lift her eyes and gaze back down the way the Imperial had come. There stood a handful of figures wearing dark red robes, nearly black in the dim light. Hoods of the same material covered their heads, shrouding their faces in darkness. She saw blades in their hands as well. Not mortal steel, but rather monstrous, wavy knives, like the jagged teeth of some fearsome Daedra.

"They're going to kill the-" with that the Imperial's voice gave out, and she heard a rattling noise issue from his throat. It was like a dry breeze through an abandoned tenement. Then he fell limp at her feet, open eyes staring blankly back up at her from the pavement.

"Hey, what's going on back there!" came an iron growl from the other end of the alley. The clash of armored boots rang out between the high buildings, reverberating in the Bosmer's ears. Wrenching her gaze from the dead man, Teresa turned to see an Imperial Watchman charging down the alley toward her, dark eyes glittering like polished ebony within the 'T'-shaped slit in his full-faced helmet.

"You there! Put down your weapons and surrender." The legionary had his arming sword out now, and before the wood elf knew it, he was standing before her. He took a moment to first glance down at the dead man at Teresa's feet, and then the blood that washed her tunic.

"I didn't-" Teresa gasped, feeling her blood turn to ice with the understanding of how things must look to the watchman. Then the steel gauntlet of his left hand was reaching out for her, and the words slipped from her throat.

"You'll hang for this street meat!" the legionary growled.

With that Teresa finally felt her body come back under her control. Twisting away from watchman's grasp, she sprang for the other end of the alley. Her eyes saw that the red-robed figures were gone now. Then her view swam as her foot caught upon the corpse of the Imperial. She felt herself falling, and her head slammed against something hard as she came to a stop.

Her vision narrowed, as if she were within a tunnel. She was vaguely aware of the thin, blue slit of the sky above her, flanked by the grey stone of buildings to either side. She thought she saw a dark bird spread its wings in that sliver of light. But then the shape dissolved, and turned into the steel helmet of the legionary, looming closer and closer. Finally, darkness consumed her.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 01:31 AM

[SubRosa]

Olen: Thank you Olen. You are correct about the Emperor. He is the catalyst that changes Teresa forever. He will always be the measuring stick that she compares herself to.


Destri Melarg: Thank you Dest. This part of the MQ is one of the weakest. The whole concept is really ridiculous. It only has the Emperor's visions and the Blade's faith in him to drive it. So I did my best to emphasize both, and tried to keep it from seeming too contrived. Under the circumstances, I thought it really demanded a blunt statement by one of the characters about how crazy it was.


treydog: Thank you T. We will be seeing some less subtle examples of those motifs coming in a few chapters.


* * *

Chapter 3a - Masser's Light

12th Second Seed, 3E433

Baurus had been right; the passage led directly to the sewers. It was a place of dark, wet stone. Wet with what Teresa would rather not think about. The smell was bad enough. Occasional pools of light fell from grates in the ceiling high above, illuminating narrow walkways that hugged the walls of the tunnel, while a wide channel of water and sludge flowed down its center. She followed the tunnel down the direction the water was flowing, reasoning that it must empty into the lake that surrounded the City Isle.

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Teresa soon found that she was not alone in the dark tunnel. When she first heard the sounds she thought it must be more of the assassins. But she soon learned that was in fact something else entirely as she sneaked closer. These creatures walked upright like mortals, but were short and hunched over, with misshapen heads and limbs. There were several of them gathered around what looked to be a body that lay on one of the walkways.

Teresa was glad she had left the torch behind, otherwise the creatures would have seen her. She was not sure just what they were. She thought they might be goblins. But she had never seen one, so she could not be sure. She did know that there were three of them and only one of her however, so the last thing she wanted was a fight, even though she was larger than any of them.

The problem was there was no other way for her to go except through them. There had been no side-passages behind her, only this one winding tunnel. So she waited in the shadows, hoping they would not see her. As she watched, she saw that they were definitely looting the body they were clustered around.

One lifted something above its head, and Teresa's heart leaped. By the silhouette, it was a strung bow. She actually knew how to use that, thanks to long hours of practice with her fellow street rat and archer Methredhel. If she could get her hands on it, she thought, she might be able to do something against them.

Then another of the creatures lifted a small pouch from the body, and Teresa could hear the distinctive jingling of coins from within. The other two creatures both stopped what they were doing and looked at the first. Then almost as if on cue they dropped what they were holding and all grabbed for the pouch with a host of eager squeals.

Teresa tucked her legion sword into her rope belt, hoping that its blade would not slice it to ribbons. Then she concentrated on the symbol of her Flare spell, feeling for the magicka within her in case she needed to use it. While the creatures played tug of war with the coins she sneaked closer. They were becoming rough, and one jumped over the body and landed atop the first creature, sending both of them sprawling in the direction opposite from Teresa. The third followed a moment later, leaving the way to the body - and the bow - wide open.

This was her chance! Teresa thought. No longer trying to be sneaky, she ran up and grabbed the bow. When she drew near she also saw a bag of arrows laying on the walkway beside the body. She caught that up in her free hand as well, and as one of the creatures turned to look at her, she sped back down the tunnel in the direction from which she come.

She heard the squealing of the creatures behind her take on a new tone, and a few moments later the sound of pounding feet echoed in the tunnel behind her. The footsteps had an odd scratching sound to them, like the footsteps of a cat or dog on a hard floor. Racing back to the first turn of the tunnel, she stopped and dropped the bag of arrows, deftly catching one in her hand as the rest clattered to the ground.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she raised the bow and nocked the arrow on its string, silently thanking the Nine that neither had gotten wet in the sewage. She did not really think about her actions; hours of practice had taught her body to do what was needed. Drawing the string back to half tension, she sighted the arrow on the center of the first dark shape coming down the tunnel. Then she pulled the string back to her ear with every ounce of strength in her arms and shoulders and loosed.

Wasting no time to see if she had hit, she anxiously bent down to yank another arrow from the bag. A high-pitched scream came from down the hall, and a moment later she heard a loud splash. She rose and pulled the bow to half tension once more, noticing a thrashing in the water in the center of the tunnel. She ignored it, and just as before she quickly sighted her arrow at what looked like the center of the dark shape of the second creature ahead. Then she pulled the string back to full tension and loosed.

She felt that same cold rage inside her that she had felt when fighting the assassin. Only this time it was not all-consuming, not so personal. Instead it was a hard serpent in her chest wanting to strike out and kill. Hard enough to steady the tremble that Teresa could feel ready to course through her frame, and cold enough drown out the thundering of blood in her ears. She let that cold fury drive her as she reached for a third arrow.

But the second creature did not go down as the first had, and before she could draw her bow another time it was upon her. Teresa saw a short blade glittering in its hand, and now panic did flood through her. Backing away, her sandaled foot slipped in the muck and she fell onto the walkway as the arrow fell from her fingers. The creature loomed above her like a wraith, raising its weapon in its hand. With a scream she threw her hands up in front of her, reflexively turning loose the magicka within her as she did.

The bolt of fire from her Flare spell illuminated the sewer in red light, briefly giving Teresa her first good look at her enemies. They were green-skinned creatures, having huge, pointed ears and elongated skulls packed with dagger-like teeth. Their arms were bony and terminated with clawed fingers, and their legs were similarly thin, ending in bare feet tipped by claws.

The goblin - as Teresa was now certain it must be - gave out a short scream that cut off in mid exhale. The stench of roasted meat overpowered the effluvium of the sewer in her nostrils. Then the creature limply fell onto her, still hot and smoking from the flame that had burned its life away.

The twang of a bow shot filled Teresa's ears. A shock ran through the limp body of the goblin, and a moment later she saw the feathered end of an arrow protruding from its back. The third goblin was an archer, Teresa realized as she pushed the corpse off of her and scrabbled on all fours around the corner of the tunnel.

Her body shook as she reached for another arrow. The familiar action seemed to steady her nerves however, and once more she felt that cold hardness within her rise to the fore. She stood and took a deep breath. Raising the bow and drawing it to half tension, she stepped sideways around the corner and back into the tunnel.

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She let half of her breath flow from her lips and sighted in on the goblin archer down the tunnel. Pulling back the string to her cheek, a moment later her arrow was in flight. Then she stepped back around the corner to ready another. Even as she moved, she heard the twang of a bowshot come from down the hall and gritted her teeth. But the goblin's arrow did not find her as she stepped to safety.

She heard a brief screech from the tunnel, followed by a heavy thud. A moment later Teresa stepped back into the hall with another arrow ready. The goblin archer was nowhere in sight. He must be down, she reasoned. The first goblin she had shot was still thrashing in the muck in the middle of the sewer. She stepped closer with her bow at half tension. Now she could see that her arrow had pierced his leg at the knee.

That must really hurt, she thought without the slightest bit of compassion. She walked up to the edge of water channel and stared at the creature. The goblin stopped thrashing and glared back up at her, eyes blazing with hatred. With one smooth motion of her bow, Teresa finished it.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jan 7 2011, 03:27 AM