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:




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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]

Acadian: Thank you A. Now we venture deeper into the breach...


minque: Thank you minque.

1: Age and treachery will always triumph over youth and skill.
2: Your her mom, he owes you for 9 months lodging in the womb.



haute ecole rider: Scribble, scribble, scribble...
Next we will begin to see more of the mystery behind those dead bandits.


Olen: Thank you O. We will indeed be seeing Daedra, eventually. Maybe not as soon as you might think though.

Good catch with asleep/to sleep. You were right. Fixed.


Winter Wolf: Thank you Wolf. That line you quoted does make me think of a certain Bravilian Bosmer as well...


* * *

Chapter 7c - Vilverin

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She could see as clear as day through the enchanted lenses as she made her way down. The stair opened up into a large chamber. A semi-circular arcade was set within the walls to her left, and stretched from the landing around a hollow in the center of the room. At least twenty feet deep, a wide pillar rose from the pit, and Teresa could see what appeared to have once been a bridge ran from it back to the wall to her right. Yet now only broken stones remained of the once graceful structure, littering the floor far below.

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Moving down into the arcade, the wood elf found more broken stone on the path that bordered the pit, outside of the columns. Someone had placed long boards across the rent sections of floor. Teresa avoided these however, moving through the columns to her left and into the shadows of the arcade. The wood might give way under feet, she thought as she crept along, or creak under her weight and betray her presence.

Making a complete circuit of the arcade, the Bosmer found herself facing the direction she had come from. A rusty metal chain hung motionless from the ceiling in front of her, with a massive block of wood bristling with metal spikes hanging from its end. It looked new, as if it were freshly cut, and the forester wondered if it might have been enchanted to withstand the effects of time. A scattering of bones lay on the floor around it. She nudged one with the toe of her boot. With no flesh at all upon its smooth surface, it had obviously been here for a long time. An axe lay nearby, its dark, pitted blade still looking quite serviceable in spite of its age.

A stair led down in front of her, and Teresa gingerly edged past the hanging spike trap, careful not to touch it. She knew that if a sentry saw its wicked teeth swaying it would give her away. Mindful of more traps, she took her time going down the stair. She did not go far before the stairwell brightened from a chandelier hanging over a landing below her. Lit by glowing stones, its rusted metal was as motionless as the trap she had passed by.

Teresa made her way down, and found a table and chairs in the landing. A pair of clay cups and a pitcher sat on the table, as did a plate and chunk of bread. Sniffing one of the cups, the wood elf imagined it might be ale within. A dark stain spread across the floor at the beginning of another stairway leading down, and a pair of small spiked balls hung from the ceiling.

The traps did not show any blood on their spines, Teresa noticed as she ducked under them and continued down. They did not kill whoever made that stain on the floor, she reasoned. So what had?

Continuing down until the stair ended in an antechamber, Teresa listened carefully. Not a sound came to her ears, and she moved under the graceful lattice of metal vines that rimmed the edge of the doorway. The room itself was empty of all but rubble, yet she found two other doorways leading deeper into the complex in its far wall. Creeping up to one, she licked her dry lips and peered beyond.

Within was a massive chamber, the stone blocks of its roof held in place by graceful, vaulted pillars. Another chandelier of glowing stones lit the room to enough brightness that Teresa pushed the goggles back from her eyes. Half a dozen square pedestals rose up throughout the room, crowned by graceful metal sconces that were now empty. More lattice-framed doorways led off from the chamber into other rooms or hallways. To the left a great pit opened up, and Teresa could see a stair leading down next to it.

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Several crates were scattered throughout the room, as were tables and chairs. The latter were turned over and smashed however, and plates, cups, and other utensils were strewn across the floor. Numerous dark stains blossomed upon the stone blocks underfoot, and as the wood elf entered the room she found both weapons and armor scattered about as well. Many of the latter pieces were fractured and stained as dark as the floor.

Finally, Teresa found her first body within the ruin proper. She smelled it long before she saw it, that same sickly sweet odor as before, only now much worse. This time she did gag when she came upon the rotting flesh that barely hung upon its torn frame. She was not sure what race it might have been when it was alive, other than it could not have been an Argonian or Khajiit from the lack of a tail. She found another like it nearby, and a third. More old bones were scattered around the room as well. At least the latter did not reek, she thought.

She found more food as well. Fresh bread, vegetables, and even a cask of ale. A dozen bedrolls were arranged along the far wall, along with several chests. Within she found clothing, a deck of cards, some wood carvings, and other random items.

Someone had been living here, Teresa thought as she peered through the clutter, and it was not the corpses she saw on the floor. Those were far too old. The food was fresh. The bloodstains were no longer wet, but how long did it take for blood to dry? she wondered. Probably not too long, she imagined. Whatever happened here, it must have been recent.

So where were the people who had been living here? she wondered. Could they have simply left? With fresh bread and cups still full of ale? Not likely, she thought to herself.

Gripping her bow tightly in hand, Teresa slid the goggles back down over her eyes and continued on. The other doors in the room led to smaller side chambers that were empty. That left the depression, whose floor she could see was littered with shattered crates, but otherwise looked empty. Taking the stair down, Teresa moved through the lower room and into a gallery beyond. This looked out upon another chamber further down, and within it she could see another table, a few chairs, and a bedroll.

Once more there was no sign of any inhabitants. Yet clearly someone had been living here, Teresa thought. She slinked through the room and found a stone door whose surface was etched with a leafless tree from top to bottom. Its spreading branches glowed a soft green in the dim light, and the beauty of the craftsmanship took the wood elf's breath away. Laying her hand against the portal, she found it sliding back with hardly any effort at all.

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More empty corridors and rooms lay beyond. These places sure were big! the wood elf marveled as she made her way from one chamber to the next. Were they palaces? she wondered, or fortresses? It was impossible to tell what most of the rooms had been used for, as all of their furnishings had rotted away to dust. Only stone and decayed metal remained behind. In a few places she came across curious-shaped chests of the latter material. There were small, hexagonally shaped ones whose lids twisted off. Others were larger and rectangular-shaped. All were empty however.

The bandits had cleaned them out, Teresa thought, or whoever had killed the bandits. If indeed they were dead.

The wood elf found herself in a narrow side corridor that dead ended with what was either an altar or a funeral bier sitting in the middle of it. Another dark stain spread across the floor on one side of the stone slab, appearing to lead directly into the wall. Taking a closer look at the stones of the wall, she found nothing out of place. Yet the blood had plainly run into them.

Walking to the end of the bier, she felt the stones shift under her feet. The Bosmer's heart leapt into her throat as she jumped back, eyes darting to and fro. The grinding of stone against stone was loud in her ears, and she found that the wall where the blood disappeared was slowly lowering down into the floor, revealing a low, square corridor beyond.

Teresa felt her heart double its pace when she saw a figure within it stumbling toward her. With her Night Eye goggles she could see it plain as day. He had been an Imperial, and still wore the tattered remnants of leather and animal hide armor. His left arm was gone, and the armor over his chest was ripped open, revealing a long, thick line of stitching going down the center of his chest. His dark, unblinking eyes were glazed open, and his remaining arm reached out for the wood elf.

Without thinking, Teresa drew an arrow from the bag at her hip, set it to the nock, and drew her bow to full tension. Taking the barest instant to aim at the dead man walking toward her, she let fly. The arrow struck the walking corpse in the center of its unarmored chest, and caused it to stagger a moment before resuming its forward march.

A zombie! Teresa silently cursed as her feet took her back the way she had come. The dead man followed, moving slowly but purposely. Stay calm, Teresa told herself as she stopped and set another arrow to her bow stave. It was slow, she thought, it could not catch her. Pulling the string back to her cheek, again she took only a moment to aim. This close it was easy, so long as she did not get killed.

It took two more arrows to put the zombie down, and Teresa had backtracked through another chamber in the process. Kneeling down beside the now-still corpse, she imagined that he was not long dead. He did not smell too bad for one, nor was his flesh rotted or moldy. He was just like the others she found outside. She found a dagger at his hip, and a few mundane items like a pair of dice and a comb in his belt pouches. Yet not a single coin.

Thinking of the smell gave the wood elf pause. She had gagged at the sickly-sweet odor when she had found the first corpses. Yet after the effluvium of the much older bodies, the smell of the fresher ones now hardly bothered her at all. The forester imagined that she must be getting used to it. Either that or her nose could not smell much of anything after the reek of the old corpses.

"They say if you die in one of those places, your soul is doomed to become one of its guardians."

The words of the carter in Sideways loomed from Teresa's memory, sending a shiver down the length of her spine. Was that what happened? she wondered. Were the bandits cursed?

There was still a clear way out, the wood elf thought as she licked her lips, all she had to do was turn around, and she could leave in one piece. Unlike the former residents.

But where were the other bandits? she wondered, and where was their gold? Where were all the things that she imagined might have been in those Ayleid chests she had come across? Or that should be sitting on those sconces she saw in the main chamber? What in Oblivion was really going on here?

Teresa was not sure what it was that finally caused her to set her feet back to the secret passage she had discovered: greed, pride, or just simple curiosity. In any case she stole down it as quietly as she could, finding herself staring at a wide chamber beyond. It was lit by another of the metal and crystal chandeliers. A wide, round font of stone rose up in the center of the chamber, and it was surrounded by stone benches.

Laying across the top of font was a dead Khajiit. Sprawled on her back, her glassy eyes stared up at the ceiling overhead. Her chest and belly had been ripped open, and her intestines were spread around her body. They trailed down to the floor and back up again in a revolting web that completely shrouded her corpse, like some madman's idea of artwork.

Teresa felt her stomach churn as she took in the grisly scene. The next thing she knew she was on her knees, vomiting up the contents of her breakfast. When she finally had nothing left to heave up, she rose unsteadily to her feet, trying to spit the taste of bile from her mouth and wiping her lips with the back of her leather-clad forearm.

What kind of monster would do something like that? the forester wondered as she stared back into the chamber. It was no zombie, that was for certain. Whoever did that took their time and thought about it, was deliberate in it.

Drawing an arrow from her bag, Teresa set it to the nock of her bow as she entered the room. She found another body near a corridor leading away from it. This was a zombie, quite old by the mold that clung to its rotting flesh. Thankfully it lay still on the floor, hacked into several pieces.

Teresa moved beyond the room, trying not to think about the Khajiit. The rest of the place was bad enough, she thought, the last thing she needed was to make it worse by dwelling upon the ugly end that awaited her if she should falter.

Yet the wood elf was surprised to find that the more she did think about it, the more her fear was replaced by something in her heart that was cold and dark. No one should die like that, she thought, not even a bandit. Whoever did it had a reckoning coming…

A rattling sound came to the forester's ears as she crept up a stairway. She could not place what it could be until her eyes peered over the lip of the stair. Before her stood a skeleton, gripping an axe in one hand. Its back was to her, and it was slowly trudging down the hallway that spread out from the stair.

Rising to her feet, Teresa took the time to draw her bow to half-tension. Taking a deep breath, she slowly let out half of it as she aimed at the center of the monster's back. Then with all of her strength she drew the string back to her cheek and loosed. A moment later the steel head of her arrow pierced the backbone of the undead guardian, emerging from its sternum on other side of its body.

The skeleton made a hissing sound, which Teresa thought was strange for a creature with no lungs. It turned with a loud rattling of bones and raised its axe, springing in her direction. It was fast, much faster than the zombie. With her heart pounding in her chest, the wood elf turned and fled down the stair, fishing out another arrow as she did so.

Reaching the bottom of the stair, she bounded across the landing and turned. Drawing her bow to half-tension once more, she sighted in on the skeleton as it reached the bottom of the steps. She knew that it would be on her in seconds, and pulled her string back to her cheek. A moment later her arrow was in flight, and found a home just above her first. With that the skeleton's backbone gave way and its chest broke apart. Falling to pieces before her eyes, the creature's bones scattered around the room and lay still.

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Teresa gulped for air. Damn! that thing was quick, she thought, nearly as quick as she was. Not as tough as the zombies though. It only took half the arrows to finish it. But that speed might catch her, she realized, especially if she was cornered. She would have to be more careful around them.

Moving on, Teresa found more skeletons and old, rotting zombies. Taking the time to be quiet and unseen paid off for her, as it gave her excellent shots at the undead creatures. She was even able to kill one skeleton with a single stealth shot.

Vilverin itself went on before her, and once more Teresa was amazed at the size of the place as she continued down level after level, through both small rooms and wide chambers. One even had a large pool filled with water, and when she was unable to pick the lock of the door leading out, she had to dive in and swim her way to the rest of the complex.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 8 2010, 10:26 PM