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]

haute ecole rider: You are right on all counts. Neo-Paganism is an all-you-can-eat salad bar sort of religion. We take things from all over the place, including the discipline of Psychology (especially Jungian). Then there is Core Shamanism, which is a collection of Shamanic practices from all over the globe - North & South American Native religion, Australian, Siberian, etc... that all are startling in their similarities. The names for things change, but little else. Witchcraft itself is the last remnant of European Shamanic practices that go back to the Stone Age (obviously having seen some changes over the millenia), so it does mesh very well with them.

The scene in the grotto, and following ones in the same vein, are all drawn entirely from my own personal experiences. They are actually a mix, some with the goddess whom I am dedicated to, and some with my spirit guide. My own practice has a very strong Shamanic influence, so it will come as no surprise to see it also strongly parallels the traditions you mentioned.

If it does seem to have a strong TES flavor, that is purely by accident, because I am totally throwing the TES lore (what there is of it) out the window with this. It does work well with generic fantasy settings however, so that is probably the sense you are getting.

And you were right about my missing not, thank you for wrangling it up with that horsey nose of yours.


Broken-Scale: Hi Scale! Welcome to Chorrol. I am glad you like Teresa 2.0. The good thing about taking the time to go back is that when I do finally get to where I left off, it should be much stronger than before, because I am writing with an eye for building foundations. Old habits die hard is someone else's story though...


* * *

Chapter 4b - For The Emperor

Setting aside the amulet, Teresa took the time for a quick soak in the lake and set off westward again, looking for another crab for dinner. It did not take very long for one to turn up and fill her stomach with its succulent meat. She came across some berries soon after and gathered them up for later, along with a clump of asparagus.

Teresa marveled at the beauty of the wilderness as she made her way along the shore. She had never imagined it would be like this. She had always thought the world outside the city was a dark and terrifying place. But instead it was quiet and almost peaceful if you did not count the mud crabs. The air was clean in her lungs, and everything was wide open around her. It was a world with no limits, filled with color and life.

It was long after dark when she saw the light of a torch deeper inland. Pulling her goggles down over her eyes, she looked closer. The light of the brand hurt her eyes, but she could at least see everything its flame did not illuminate. There was a large clump of towering rocks, she saw, and what appeared to be a rough wooden door leading into them. To either side of the door was hung a long string of skulls, and in front of it was the torchbearer himself, a goblin holding an axe with his free hand.

So much for peaceful, Teresa thought, and instantly dropped into a crouch. Then she realized that she was far outside of the illumination of the goblin's torch and stood back up. Looking to either side, there was no sign of any other goblins. It was just him and her.

She drew an arrow from the bag fastened to her right hip and set it on the nock. Raising the bow, she pulled it to half-tension and sighted in on the goblin. He was a long way off, so she raised her bow to compensate. It would be a difficult shot, but she knew she could make it.

But should she make it? Teresa found herself wondering. She knew the goblin would kill her without hesitation, so she felt no sympathy for it. But there were probably others of its kind in the cave. Sooner or later another goblin would come out to find him dead, she knew. Then they might go looking to see who did it, and having a tribe of goblins hunting her would not be good.

She lowered her bow and put the arrow back in its bag. This was your lucky day goblin, she thought. Giving the cave a wide berth, Teresa continued to make her way west along the island. She also realized something. Just because she could kill, it did not mean she should. That was a very sobering thought, especially when she wondered how many others might look at her in the future and have to make the same decision.

In time she came to the edge of a massive wooden bridge that extended north across the lake, which was perhaps only half a mile wide at this point. Once again she saw the light of a torch ahead of her, this time on the span itself. Only now it was moving, crossing from the opposite shore to her side of the lake. The sound of hooves clomping on wood came to her ears, and as the torch came nearer she could see it was a single legionary riding a horse.

The law, Teresa thought, just what she needed. She was not sure what was worse, them or the goblins. She wondered if they were looking for her? Or had her escape gone unnoticed in the chaos that must have followed the death of the Emperor?

She briefly thought Baurus might have cleared her name. But then she realized that might tip off the assassins and make them start looking for her. So he had probably done nothing, Teresa reasoned. That meant she was on her own, as she had been ever since she stepped foot in the sewers under the prison.

Teresa sat as still as she could in the bushes and hoped the legionary would not notice her. Her heart beat loudly in her chest as he came near. It seemed so deafening to her that he must surely hear it. Her hands were damp with sweat, and she found that her lips had gone dry. The last thing she wanted was to have to tangle with a legionary. They were metal-clad monsters who lived to fight, she thought. Worse, if you killed one of them the rest would never stop hunting you. They would track you down and butcher you no matter what it took.

She could smell the horse as the soldier came alongside her. The crackling of his torch was loud in her ears, loud enough to drown out the roaring of her heart, and she held herself absolutely still. Shadow hide me, she prayed.

Then he was past her and riding down the road deeper inland. Teresa let out a sigh of relief, only then realizing that she had been holding her breath. She waited in the brush until he was long out of sight, and only then rose and quickly scuttled across the bridge.

Reaching the other side without incident, she continued her way west down a wooden dock that hugged the shore. She found several crates and barrels on it, but all were empty except for huge spools of rope, which she imagined must be to tie boats up to the pier.

Dawn was nearing, and Teresa felt exhaustion settling into her once again. Finding another hiding spot, she laid down for another day's sleep. She always had preferred sleeping in the daylight, she mused as she drifted off. The night was so much more comforting to be out and about in.

Once more she woke in late afternoon. She could not believe how late she was sleeping. But then again, she had never been through anything like this before. Being poor, she had always walked everywhere she needed to go in the city, rather than riding a horse or carriage as the rich people did. But she had never made a trek like this before either. Let alone ever killed people...

She risked another quick dip in the lake to wash off the dirt and dust of traveling then resumed her march west along the lake shore. She found a fisherman's shack not too far from the dock, and stopped to buy bread and fruit from the owner, using some of the money she had found on the dead thief in the sewer.

Soon the lake curved away to her left, and far down its coast she could make out a gigantic bridge that spanned the miles of water between the City Isle and the far shore. Not a simple wooden affair such as the one she had crossed, but rather a massive stone edifice. She knew that was the West Bridge, outside of the Talos Plaza district. She had seen it often enough from the Waterfront.

So Weynon must be somewhere directly ahead of her, she reasoned. With that in mind she left the lake behind and continued west, plunging headlong into the great forest. It was long after dark when she passed what she imagined must be the Red Ring Road that she had heard surrounded the city on the outer shore of the lake.

After that the only sign of habitation she came across was a broken fort, which she gave a wide berth. With the sky full of stars and the twin moons casting their light down upon the landscape she could see well enough that she did not need the goggles. Teresa liked how they illuminated everything, but not how they turned the world a dull grey. She would only use those when she really had to, she thought.

Traveling through the night, Teresa marveled at the beauty of the forest around her. It felt so pristine and clean. She often found herself stopping just to touch a tree, or admire the way the moonlight filtered through its leaves. With no hustle or bustle, no footpads or legionaries, no stench of garbage, no cold stone looming up from every direction, it seemed like paradise to the young wood elf.

But what she loved best of all were the deer. They moved with such grace that it took her breath away, leaping over rocks and brush with an ease she never would have imagined possible given their spindly legs. Teresa knew most people would hunt them for their meat, but she did not have the heart to shoot them. They were just too beautiful, and were of no threat to her.

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The wolves were another story however. Her first encounter was with a single wolf, which gave Teresa the opportunity to use her innate Bosmer ability to command animals. It was something she had only used before on rats in the shantytown she called home. She was not even sure if would work on an animal as large as a wolf when she saw it, and was greatly relieved when the predator wagged its tail at her and licked her cheeks after she cast it. Much better than having her face bitten off, she thought.

That was the only lone wolf she saw though. After that they all came in packs, which made her ability to command a single animal a moot point. Most of them appeared to want as little do with her as she did with them. However, when one pack became too curious for comfort Teresa was able to shoo them away a Flare spell in front of their noses. All animals were afraid of fire after all, she thought. Or at least that was what Teresa had been told.

She continued traveling that way for nearly a week, moving by night and sleeping in the day. She was not exactly sure where she was going, but she was not worried. Something inside of her had faith that she would reach her destination. It was a strange feeling, believing in herself, but one that Teresa was slowly becoming accustomed to.

* * *

She was standing in a large cavern whose rough stone walls were carved out by the forces of nature. Shadows clung to the walls of the cave, the darkest of which were smaller tunnels leading further into the bowels of Nirn. Before her the cavern was open to the sky. Sunlight beamed through the gaping hole, illuminating the center of the chamber in golden light. Beneath this Teresa saw a large pool of water, whose crystal clear waves held a small forest of marine plants.

Somehow, all of this seemed familiar to the wood elf. As if she had been to this place before. She stepped into the light of the sun, allowing it to wrap her in its warmth. Then she sat, sliding her bare legs into the clear water. It was warm against her skin, and she watched how the light bent the image of her legs as she gently kicked them back and forth under the waves.

This had happened before! the Bosmer thought, just like this. Looking up, she saw a dark figure across the pool from her. Standing at the edge of the shadows, she seemed to be wearing a black cloak, whose hood completely obscured her head.

Teresa's breath caught in her throat, and she quickly pulled her legs from the water. Leaping to her feet, the wood elf stared at the other woman. Yet the dark figure did move. Teresa was not sure if she even breathed.

The wood elf took a step forward. Who was this woman in black? she wondered, and what was she doing here, in her dream? For the wood elf was not only certain this was a dream, but that the other woman was not merely a product of her own imagination.

The figure turned as Teresa approached. As she drew nearer, the wood elf saw that it was not a cloak that the other woman wore. Rather it was black feathers that seemed to completely envelop her frame.

The figure began to raise its head…

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 01:35 AM