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.

Screenshot

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]

Destri Melarg: Thank you D. Yes, the dreams will be a recurring feature. They are a part of Bosmer spirituality that I am creating, completely outside of TES lore. I am hoping that it will add more depth to both the setting, and Teresa herself.

I believe ultimately Teresa does not want to kill things. She does have the ability to do it without hesitation when in danger, but that is about it. I suppose there is a bit of the proto-Teresa doctrine there. Don't kill unless you have to. Of course she has yet to learn in her heart that life requires death to survive, and that sacrifice is a part of the natural order of the world.

Wolves travel in packs IRL, so they do so in my writing. I want my writing to seem like a real world, so I do my best to model the behaviour of real critters.


canis216: Venison is quite tasty! I have had it a few times, and have always enjoyed it. Never had elk or moose, or anything larger though.

Thank you C. Character development is my focus, so expect more of that than action.



* * *
Chapter 4c - For The Emperor

Teresa woke as the sun was setting, and wondered at the strange dream. It had all seemed so familiar, she thought. She was certain she had it before, sometime after escaping from the prison. Yet she could not recall exactly when.

The croaking of a raven drew her thoughts, and she looked up to see the black bird sitting on a branch above her. It turned its head from one side to another, as if to look upon her with each eye in turn. Then with a loud cry it leapt into the air and flew toward the setting sun. On impulse, Teresa quickly rose, gathered up her things, and followed in the same direction.

The ground had been gradually sloping upward since she left the lake behind, perhaps as long as a week ago. Now she found herself climbing an even steeper slope, pausing occasionally to gather up the summer bolete, lavender, viper's bugloss, and fly amanita she found there. The sky had gone dark and the stars were coming out when she finally reached the crest of the hill. Atop it she was greeted by the sight of high stone walls in front of her and stretching off out of her view to either side.

She saw torches on the battlements, and lights emanating from windows in towers regularly spaced along the wall. Here and there she saw soldiers marching back and forth behind the parapets. Continuing ahead, she soon came upon a path that ringed the walls. Following it, she found herself at a huge gate in the wall, with a large stable and horse paddock nearby.

She froze when she saw the two guards standing at the gate. They stared back at her, and she willed herself to begin walking again. As she drew near she found that unlike the members of the Imperial Legion, these men wore coats of mail covered with only a few pieces of plate at the shoulders. A quilted vest was draped over their mail and split at the waist, hanging as far down as their knees. A white tree was emblazoned in the center of the vests, as well as on the round shields they held in their left hands. At their hips they wore the same steel arming swords she was used to seeing the Imperial Legion carry however.

"Good evening citizen," one of the guardsmen said as she approached. "Welcome to Chorrol."

Screenshot

Teresa stopped and resisted the urge to look to see if he had been talking to someone else. No guardsman had ever spoken to her in that tone before. It was... friendly. The way soldiers treated regular people. Teresa found herself at a loss for words.

"It looks like you have been traveling for some time ma'am," the other guard offered up, filling the awkward silence that was developing.

"Umm, yes," Teresa forced herself to speak. "A long time. I was looking for Weynon Priory."

"Not going to become a monk I hope!" the first guard said with a grin, then stopped himself abruptly. "Not that there is anything wrong with monks of course, praise Talos. Just a bit dull is all."

"No, I, um..." Teresa began, scrambling for something to say. "I'm looking for my brother. He is one of the monks there. I came out from the Imperial City to surprise him with a visit. Only I have never been here before..."

"I didn't think there were any Bosmer monks at Weynon?" the second guard said quizzically.

"Oh, he's my step-brother," Teresa replied quickly. "He's an Imperial like you men are. But we are so close I forget. It is been so long since I have seen him... I cannot wait."

"Well, Weynon is back down that road there," the first guard said, pointing down another road that lay beyond the stable. "If you follow that a few miles it will take you past some farms and right to the priory. But I would not try going there now. You better get a room here in the city for the night and go in the morning."

"That is ok, I like walking at night," Teresa said, turning to leave.

"Wait," the first guard said, reaching out to take her arm in a gentle grip. "Please. You look like you know your way around the woods, but that's not a good idea, not these days."

"Ever since the Emperor died, we have had reports you see..." the second guard said in a hushed whisper. "Of people disappearing, and legionaries turning up dead on the road, torn to pieces. It's the Daedra they say!"

Teresa's heart skipped a beat, not just from the guardsman's grip, but also from the news. They both seemed serious, and genuinely concerned for her safety. She was not sure how to feel about that. She was not sure how to feel about so many things these days.

"Oh," she said, thinking about her long journey through the wilderness. It had been very quiet and relatively peaceful, certainly more than the Waterfront had ever been. Yet if there really were Daedra roaming the land, what would she have done if one found her? "I had no idea. I had better stay here then."

The first guard recommended she stay at an inn called the Oak and Crosier that was just inside the gate. She took his advice and was glad for it. The common room was clean, bright, and filled with people eating and drinking. It seemed very friendly and comfortable-looking. Talking to the owner, a female Khajiit named Talasma, Teresa found that the rooms were not nearly as expensive as she imagined for a place so large and well apportioned. After exchanging more of her sewer-found gold she acquired a room, a bath, and her first real meal since escaping the prison.

The next morning she went shopping. Her first stop was the Mages Guild, which she had heard of from some of the people talking in the inn's common room. Their Altmer alchemist looked at her like she was a creature rather than a person. That did not bother Teresa, much. It was how she expected people to treat her after all.

The Altmer did give her a nice sum of coins for the plants she had gathered on her journey. Enough that Teresa began to think that roaming the countryside for alchemical ingredients might turn out to be well worth the effort. Certainly not enough to get rich, but far better than she was doing now.

After that a smithy known as Fire and Steel caught her eye. There Teresa found herself parting with her cracked and brittle leathers and her sword. But in return she found herself the owner of a brand new set of leather armor - cuirass, gauntlets, greaves, and boots - covering her from head to toe with the thick, yet supple material. Where the old cuirass from the sewer had felt bulky and stiff, this seemed to move with her willowy frame rather than against it. The owner said it was made for female wood elves like herself, so she was not too surprised. She also showed Teresa how to care for the leather with a solution of oils and beeswax that she sold to the wood elf as well.

From there Teresa stopped at the Northern Goods Trade Store, which she found was run by a friendly Argonian named Seed Neeus. From her Teresa purchased a simple linen tunic to replace her nearly ruined sack-cloth clothing, a pack, a bedroll, and other traveling equipment. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw that the Argonian merchant had a supply of ground henna leaves, and on a whim bought them as well.

Then she was back to the inn, where she went up to her room and set to the task of mixing the henna with water and applying the paste to her hair. She had never dyed her hair before, but knew enough other women who did, so it was not too difficult, just a bit messy and time-consuming.

When she was finished she stepped back to get a good look at herself in the mirror and nearly gasped. Not only was her formerly mousy brown hair now a brilliant crimson mane, but the rest of her had changed as well. The street urchin she had known all of her life was gone. Instead a lithe forester clad in leather had taken her place. She stood tall and straight, with emerald eyes that showed a quiet confidence behind them. The very picture of a wood elf from all the stories she had heard growing up, except for her ghostly pale skin of course.

Screenshot

"It is our choices in life that define us," she heard the voice of the Emperor in her mind, as clearly as if he was standing next to her. "Some people choose poorly. Some choose to be something better."

The thought of the Emperor made her eyes moisten and a lump form in her throat. Yet she willed herself not to cry. She owed him better than that, Teresa thought. Swallowing down the knot in her throat, she looked at herself in the mirror and wondered what the old man would think if he could see her now. She had the feeling that he would be pleased.

The thought brought a faint smile to her lips. Teresa found that she liked the new person she was becoming.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 12 2011, 09:33 PM