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]

Olen: Thank you O. I was making a concerted effort to build tension and mystery with this, so I am glad it worked. Plus since this is Teresa's first Ayleid ruin, I wanted to put a lot of effort into describing it, and making it seem really grand.

Good points, I have gone back and edited things. I am going to leave in slinked though, slunk has never really looked right to me.


minque: Thank you M. More damp mold on the way!


Winter Wolf: Thank you WW. That first pic with the goggles on really came out well. It is actually from another ruin (Bawn), but I could not resist using it here.

You make a good point about the zombie/corpse. But I do want to keep the distinction between regular dead bandits and dead monsters that were animated. So I am going to stick with zombie.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. Ahh, such fond memories you have... However, I do feel obliged to tell everyone that those descriptions of the corpses were due in large part from your helpful advice.


(The now blond and distinctly wood elfy) Acadian: Thank you A. Who is that hottie in your avatar? I know a certain stringy Bosmer who might like to meet her...


All: This next post is going to be a big one. But I did not want to break it in the middle of the action for fear of losing the impact. I do not suggest eating anything while reading this one...

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Chapter 7d - Vilverin

Finally she came upon a wide intersection of four passages. Another font rose up in the center of it, and shining quartz seemed to grow from the ceiling to light the area. Teresa was thankful when there were no bodies on the font. Instead its basin was dry, and within it sat a curious statuette.

Most of it was made of some white metal which she could not identify. It had four needle-like spines that ran up from a wide base. These were linked by a series of horizontal spars to a fifth spine made of purple crystal that hung between them in the center of the statue. Within its depths Teresa could see some kind of swirling energy, much as she had glimpsed within the heart of the Amulet of Kings. Yet the statue did not give her the warm, comfortable feeling that the amulet had. Rather it felt cold and harsh.

Teresa had no idea what it might be, but it certainly looked valuable. Without a second thought she lifted it from the basin and tucked it into her pack. It ought to bring a good price from somebody, she thought. Probably more than her potions would.

The sweet smell of rotting meat came to Teresa's nose, and afraid of what she might find, she followed it down one of the side passages. It opened up into a wide room with a stone altar in its center. She had no idea what it had been originally built for, but now it was a abattoir. Fresh corpses of several races were spread around the room, torn open and covered with dried blood. Dark, squishy things that she imagined might be organs lay scattered here and there, as did a few other body parts such as fingers and eyes.

One body lay stretched across the altar, its chest cut open and ribs pulled out to expose its innards. A large pair of shears lay on the altar beside it, blades stained dark. A needle and heavy thread sat there as well, along with a small, single-bladed knife and a heavy pair of pliers.

The next thing Teresa knew she was doubled over retching. At least she had nothing left to heave up, she thought as she backed out of the room, trying not to breathe in the stench. Well, now she knew what had happened to the rest of the bandits, she mused. Once more she thought of the entrance. It was still there, and she still had an open road to it.

Yet just as before, that coldness twisted in her guts. There was no leaving this place, she knew, not after seeing what she had. Someone was going to pay…

Backtracking to the intersection, she found the next passage dead-ended in another charnel house. A body hung by its neck from the ceiling, hands bound behind his back. He had been a bandit if the remnants of hide armor on his still undecayed flesh was anything to go by. From the dark splotches that decorated his face and protruding tongue, Teresa imagined his death was not one of a quick broken neck, but rather of slow strangulation. Worse, his stomach had been cut open, leaving his bowels spilled out across the floor underneath him.

Another bandit was crucified upon one of the walls, her body suspended by iron spikes driven though her wrists and into cracks in the stones behind her. Her chest was cut upon from throat to waist and her ribs ripped apart. Her insides were gone, leaving her torso an empty shell of meat.

The final horror was spread-eagled face-down on the floor. His back was cut open and ribs torn out. This had made it possible to pull his lungs from his body and spread them out above his shoulders, like a ghastly pair of wings. Given the rictus of agony fixed upon the dead man's features, Teresa imagined that he must have been alive when it happened.

The wood elf reeled away from the horrors. She could understand killing people like bandits, who attacked you first. But this was beyond that. It was beyond even cold-blooded murder. It was something altogether different. What kind of monster could do such a thing?

There was only one corridor left, and even though she could see clear as day with her goggles, Teresa felt like she was smothered in darkness. Mindful of the pressure plate she had stepped on earlier, the wood elf took her time, and was rewarded when she discovered a slightly raised section of the floor in front of her.

Taking a closer look at the narrow corridor ahead, she noticed three long slits in the walls to either side, running from the arched ceiling down to waist level. Beyond them the corridor turned to the right, out of her sight.

So what comes out of those? Teresa wondered, and does it still work? Getting down on hands and knees, below the level of the openings in the walls, she gingerly reached out and pressed down the stone.

She heard a snap of some kind of clasp in the walls, and a moment later three pendulums came sweeping across the corridor, their wide blades shining bright and sharp. The outer two came from her left, and the inner one from the right. It only took them a moment to slash through the empty air of the corridor and vanish into the slits in the opposite walls.

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Teresa waited, and realized that she was holding her breath. She faintly heard gears turning in the walls, and a moment later the pendulums came back across the hallway. Gulping for air, she tried not to think of what would have happened to her if she had not seen the trap.

The pendulums continued for lengthy moments. Teresa was not sure how long. The time seemed to stretch on forever, and she drew forth another arrow and set it to her nock just in case someone, or something, came along as she waited. Finally the blades vanished into the walls and stopped, and she inched her way through the corridor, being careful not to step on any more triggers.

The corridor turned to her right, and after continuing for a few steps it ended at a flight of stairs going up. The wood elf could see a light coming from above, and only after peering for more traps, she eased her way up. Before she was halfway to the top the rattling of bones came to her ears, and the wood elf paused to lick her lips before continuing.

Peeking over the last few stairs, she found that they opened up into a great chamber. It was lit by more shining crystals that grew from the center of the ceiling. Square pillars held up the vault of the roof overhead, save for one whose upper half was missing. To her left Teresa saw a raised gallery running the length of the room, and directly across from her she saw a doorway, which she imagined might lead to the walkway above.

A metal brazier sat in the middle of the room, and motes of light danced lazily up from within its basin. A stones of the floor rose slightly around it, and surrounding that were numerous biers. A skeleton lay upon one, with a sword clasped in its bony fingers. A bedroll was stretched out across another, and one of the long Ayleid chests topped a third. A fourth seemed to hold some kind of alchemical apparatuses, and a fifth had several books and writing implements.

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A skeleton patrolled to one side of the room, axe clutched in one hand and a long, oval shield in the other. Sitting on the floor with his back to one of the biers was a Redguard. His tightly curled hair was cut short, and he wore a dark robe emblazoned with a skull crossed by a pair of bony hands.

So this was the monster responsible for all of this, Teresa thought, feeling that cold rage building deep within her. Reaching down to her waist, she popped the stopper from a jar that hung from her belt. Thrusting the barbed tip of her arrow within, she withdrew it a moment later dripping with a viscous black substance. Time for him to meet her friend nightshade, the forester thought with a faint smile, replacing the stopper and setting the arrow on the nock.

Without thinking, Teresa rose to her feet on the stair, bringing her bow to half tension and sighting in on the man. The creak of her flexing bow stave was loud as thunder in her ears. Apparently not only in hers, for at that moment the skeleton whirled, fixing its empty eyesockets upon her with an eerie hiss. The Redguard must have heard the skeleton, for he too looked up as Teresa let fly.

The wood elf was not sure if it was divine or infernal providence that drove the man to reflexively throw up the book he held to protect himself. In any case, the arrow that would have pierced his chest instead sunk deeply into its pages. She heard him curse, and wondered if she had still hit one of his hands as he rose and dropped the skewered tome.

But her attention was no longer on the Redguard. Rather her gaze was riveted upon the skeleton that was now charging across the room at her. Quickly she reached for another arrow and set it to her bow stave. She did not pull it to half-tension to properly sight in on the skeleton. There would be no time, she realized. Instead she drew it back to her cheek and spared only the barest instant to aim at the onrushing monster. Then she loosed and whirled away, bounding down the stairs.

She heard the arrow thunk into something hard behind her as she raced down the steps, taking them two and a time. The rattling of bones was loud behind her, telling her the skeleton was still alive, if such a thing could be called that. The wood elf hit the landing with both feet and scampered to the end of the short hallway. Turning, she drew another arrow from the bag at her hip and raised her bow.

The skeleton was halfway down the stair, her arrow firmly planted in its tall shield. Damn, she thought, another useless shot! Raising the bow to half-tension, she sighted in on the right side of the skeleton, hoping it would not be able to block with the shield in its left hand. Then she let fly and raced around the corner. She heard another heavy thud as the arrow hit home somewhere behind her. Probably in its shield, she mused sourly.

That is when she realized where she was. The pendulum trap! She felt a pressure plate give way beneath her bounding toes, and dove to the floor as the whooshing of metal cutting through air filled her ears. A cool breeze rushed by, and she knew that one of the swinging blades had passed by overhead. She saw another sweep across the corridor ahead of her, and rather than rise to her feet, she rolled down the hallway, trying to keep as low to the floor as possible.

She surged to her feet at the far end, turning to look back the way she came. The skeleton had already turned the corner, and was charging down the corridor at her with axe raised. A moment later a pendulum sailed from the wall beside it, ripping its bones to shreds in an instant.

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A faint smile came to the wood elf's lips as she drew another arrow and poisoned it. Saved by one of the very traps meant to kill her! she thought, how ironic was that?

"I don't know who you are, but you picked the wrong tomb to raid!" The voice of the Redguard came from around the corner at the end of the pendulum hall. Teresa raised her bow and drew it back to half-tension, sighting in on the lip of the wall. A moment later she saw curly hair and shot. But at the same moment one of the pendulums chose to arc through the hallway, and the forester's arrow snapped against its blade.

"Not your day is it tree-hugger!" the man snickered, extending his hand. A bolt of fire erupted from his fingers and sped toward her. Yet it too fizzled out when it struck a swinging pendulum.

Teresa drew another arrow as the Redguard ducked back around the corner. Taking the time to poison it as well, she once again set it to the nock. She waited, and after several long moments she heard a grinding sound within the walls, and the blades stopped in mid-flight.

He must have a switch to turn them off, Teresa thought. Not wasting a moment, she darted into the hallway, careful to step around the deadly blades that now hung motionless. Emerging past them, she stepped back around the corner and looked up the stair in time to see the Redguard silhouetted at the top.

She raised her bow and fired. At the same time the mage once more threw out his arm, but now a bolt of lightning shot out. Heat seared into Teresa's side as she felt herself pushed back against the far wall. The smell of roasting meat filled her nostrils. Yet in spite of that she smiled faintly. For she had seen her arrow strike home this time, in spite of the yellow flash of a Shield spell as it had hit.

Still, she did not want another of those. Pushing herself off the wall, she dove around the corner. Pain erupted in her side, and she stared down at the charred leather of her cuirass even as her free hand reached into one of her belt pouches. It would not survive many more of those, the wood elf thought, nor would she. Drawing forth a small bottle, she pulled the stopper out with her teeth and hastily poured the pink liquid down her throat.

Just like that the pain vanished. Willing her hands to stop trembling, Teresa drew another arrow and set it to her nock. Taking a deep breath, she raised her bow and stepped back around the corner.

She found herself staring at a headless zombie. She fired out of reflex, taking it square in the chest. It paused a moment as the barbed head struck home, then reached out for her with a clawed hand. Desperately scrabbling backward, Teresa lost her balance. The next thing she knew she was on the floor. Another bolt of lightning sizzled through the place she had been standing a moment before. Yet it was the zombie that filled her vision.

Rolling to one side as its arm swept at her, Teresa scuttled back down the pendulum hallway. She wished there were one of those switches to activate it on her side as she navigated her way through the blades. If wishes were horses we would all ride, she thought as she drew another arrow and set it to her stave.

She turned at the end of the hall to find the zombie still working its way around the first pendulum. At least the blades were slowing it down, she thought as she took careful aim and shot, piercing one of its hips. The zombie continued with a noticeable limp after that, and Teresa pulled another arrow and sent it into the other hip.

The zombie crashed to the floor after that, yet still it crawled forward. At the end of the hall behind it she saw the robes of the mage. This time she was able to step out of the way as another bolt of lightning flashed brightly in the corridor. Now she saw that the arrow was gone from the necromancer's body. He had pulled it out, she thought, but had he noticed the poison on the tip?

Teresa backed up to the font where she had found the curious statuette. Crouching behind its hard stone, she drew another arrow. She rose a moment later and drew her bow to half-tension, sighting in on the zombie. Letting fly, she buried the arrow between its shoulders, and it vanished into thin air.

Drawing forth another arrow, she lifted her eyes to the mage and took careful aim on his figure. As she did so, she wondered why he had not fired another bolt of fire or lightning at her. Maybe he was casting some kind of protective spell?

In any case, he dodged to the side, putting one of the pendulums between the two of them. Teresa held her fire and sidestepped, looking for a clear shot. She caught sight of him drinking a potion as she finally found an opening. Letting fly, she once more saw the bright flash of a Shield spell as her arrow struck home in his arm.

With a snarl on his lips, the Redguard pointed at her with his other hand. Lightning flashed, and the next thing Teresa knew she was on the floor with bright spots dancing in her eyes. Gritting her teeth, the forester scuttled behind the font as agony seared through her chest. Now she saw that her cuirass was a blackened and smoldering ruin as she reached for another healing potion and greedily downed its contents.

Which one of us is going to run out of potions first? she wondered as she reached for another arrow. The thought made her stop. What in Oblivion was she doing? she wondered. This fetcher was a necromancer, and a real sadistic one at that. Was she really fighting him? Why on Nirn was she not running away like any sane person would?

The Emperor's face filled her mind's eye then, his blue eyes flashing brighter than any lightning bolt. "It is our choices in life that define us." his words echoed in her brain. Could she really choose to run, after what she had seen?

"Come out here and die while you still have the option of doing it quickly!" the necromancer's voice ripped through the hallway. It had an edge to it that was not simply anger or hatred, Teresa noted. Rather it sounded like pain. She wanted to shout something witty back at him, or at least something defiant, like all the heroes did in the stories. Yet her tongue seemed frozen in her mouth, and all she could do was smile faintly as she rose and brought her bow to bear.

She let her arrow speak for her as it flew down the hallway. Once again it passed by a bolt of lightning as it found a home in the Redguard's shoulder. This time Teresa was ready however, and she had fallen behind the stone font just an instant before the deadly energy hissed past overhead.

Teresa took a deep breath. She could do this, she thought, she was quicker, and he would run out of magicka far sooner than she would run out of arrows.

With that inspiration blossomed within her head. Rather than taking the time to ready another arrow, she fixed the symbol of her Flare spell firmly in mind. Leaning out from around the side of the round pedestal, she gestured toward the necromancer and loosed a bolt of fire from her hand.

As she expected, he rolled to the side to avoid the oncoming flames. But rather than ducking back to cover, she was already hurling another blast of fire, and another, leading her shots in the direction she knew he would have to move to dodge her previous bolts. Thanks to the energy loaned to her by the Ayleid well outside the ruin, she was able to fill the corridor with a veritable wall of fire, and soon enough the Redguard screamed as he was caught in at least one of the blasts.

It was only when she was finally out of magicka that Teresa ducked back behind the font and reached for another arrow. As she did another thought came to her head. Normally she could only use magic a few times before completely running out of energy and having to wait for it to build back up again. He had been burning through spells like mad since she had seen him. How much energy could he really have? Then she remembered the potion she had seen him drinking. Had it been one to give him more magicka?

She would just have to shoot faster than he could drink, the wood elf resolved as she rose to her feet and aimed down the hall. The Redguard was gone however. But now another zombie was standing in his place. As soon as she came into view it lurched toward her, reaching out with its long fingers.

Another summoning, the forester thought as she took aim and put an arrow into the zombie's hip. It continued forward with a limp, and Teresa backed away as she pulled out another arrow. She had played this game before, she thought, and could do so again. The zombie was down with a few more arrows, and finished with a fourth through the head.

With still no sign of the necromancer, Teresa moved back down the pendulum hall with an arrow on the nock. Sidestepping around the far corner, only an empty stair greeted her eyes. Several empty potion bottles lay carelessly discarded on the floor of the landing, as did a curious blue-green crystal.

It was long, about the size of her fist, and tapered to a diamond-shaped point. Its wide base was sheathed in a delicate latticework of the same metal she had seen throughout the ruin. The memory of the empty sconces on the pedestals in the bandit's chamber came to Teresa's mind, and she wondered if it had once sat atop one of them.

Teresa forgot about the odd stone when she caught sight of a trail of blood leading up the steps. She smiled faintly as she scampered up the stair and into the great chamber beyond, bow at the ready. There was still no sign of the necromancer, and the wood elf carefully sidestepped around each bier in the chamber, ready to shoot in case he was hiding behind one.

The wood elf picked up the trail of blood in the doorway at the far end of the room. Following it, she found that it did indeed lead up a short, winding stair to the gallery that flanked the side of the chamber. She moved briskly, but not so fast that she might blunder into a trap or ambush.

Soon Teresa found herself climbing a tall stair that ended with another of the tree-engraved doors. Beyond she found herself standing in a thick copse of trees. Behind her the doorway was part of a tiny structure, just large enough to fit the door and the space for a person to walk down the stair beyond.

The sound of water lapping the shore was loud in her ears, and as the wood elf made her way through the thicket she saw the ruins spread out before her. It was a back door, she thought as her eyes scanned to and fro. Yet there was no sign of the necromancer, and no more droplets of blood for her to follow.

He had escaped.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 28 2010, 11:28 PM