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

[Acadian]

Caught up again. The fight in Vilverin was rivetting. I agree with you, that it was your best 'fight' scene ever. I loved that it did not go predictably at all.

I like that the Main Quest is happening around Teresa. She is a minor character on the perifery and this suits her so very well. Stringy or scrawny wood elves just don't seem like save-the-world types, do we? Let's leave that to the sturdier adventurers.

Wonderfully done!

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. Once more Peter Connolly was my co-pilot as I wrote that. I spent a while looking for a good slang term for the legionaries to use for themselves. In the end I turned to history, and went with Marius' Mules. Although in this case there is obviously no Marius...

Old Ironsides was a wooden ship, so that would not work at all. I am thinking The Merrimack! Or perhaps The Monitor? If you have any other questions about Julian, feel free to ask me!


Remko: Thank you. I think of that scene as "The Army of Mother-******* Light on the march, *****!" It was a lot of fun to write.

And thank you for wrangling up my escaped consonant. Obviously those marching soldiers frightened it off...


treydog: Thank you dog. Teresa is learning, but that bit of awareness mainly goes to her life as a street urchin, and the arts of stealth that she has learned to remain unseen by both Imperial Watch and thugs alike.

Thank you for wresting with my typos, fixed.


Olen: Thank you. A murder of crows has always been one of my favorite names for a group of animals, along with a conspiracy of ravens.

I had to look up onomatopoeia! As much as I would like to take credit for brilliance, I am afraid it mainly just worked out how it did by accident. Although it is true that I have always liked using the word "clomping" to describe the sound of horses.


Acadian: Thank you paladin. I wanted show in that fight scene that Teresa did not win by pure luck alone, and that in fact chance was as often against her as it was with her.

I am hoping that having Teresa on the sidelines while the main quest plays out will be a nice change from many other Fs that follow the main storyline of Oblivion, and allow us to see it from a different perspective.



* * *

Chapter 8b - The Witch of Lake Trasimene


Teresa did not stop to rest until she reached the top of the ridge. She had expected the ground to slope downward again. But it seemed to go on to the east without rising or falling. At least for as far as she could see. The land did continue to rise to the north however, leading up to a range of mountains far in the distance. It was like standing upon one toe from those lofty peaks.

By then the sun was at its zenith, and Teresa's limbs felt like lead weights. Dropping her sack of loot and backpack, she sat down in the dirt and looked back the way she had come. She could not believe how far she could see. The Heartlands stretched out for miles and miles before her eyes.

Far below and many miles away, the Red Ring Road snaked by from left to right. Beyond that spread the great blue expanse of Lake Rumare. It was bordered by the line of mountains to her right, but it went on forever directly in front of her. On her left she could make out the hazy form of land in the distance. Rising up from the far shore, Teresa imagined she could see a slender, white spire, just barely visible against the line of the horizon. White Gold Tower, Teresa thought, there had never been a time in her life that its graceful white stones had not been there, rising up to kiss the sky overhead.

Digging through her pack, Teresa produced what remained of her provisions. Not much, she thought as she took a bite of the stale bread and tucked it back away. Her stomach growled, wanting more. But she would be out completely soon, unless she found a settlement. She really should have bought more in Sideways, or taken some from Vilverin after all.

Looking around at the plants that surrounded her, the wood elf wondered which ones were safe to eat, and which were poison? She had no idea. If she was going to keep up this foresting thing, she was going to have to learn, she resolved. Either that or she might starve.

Making camp there for the day, Teresa lay down in the shade of a pine tree. She found her armor disintegrating as she stripped it from her frame. The cuirass was a complete ruin, thanks to the necromancer's lightning bolts. So was the leather that covered her arms and upper legs. Only her gloves and boots were untouched. The thick linen tunic she wore beneath was not in very good shape either, its formerly blue cloth now blackened and crisped.

As the forester had feared, her sleep was tortured by images of skeletons, zombies and mutilated bodies. She was thankful when she woke at sunset, and even though she still felt tired, she was quick to pack up her things and continue east.

Besides the food, she should have taken the armor from one of the bandits, Teresa realized as she trudged on, wearing nothing but her blackened tunic and remaining pieces of good leather. Yet the idea of wearing something that had just been on a corpse made her skin crawl. Especially given the flies and other insects that she had seen on them.

She found herself in a thick forest of oak and pine, and had to use her Night Eye goggles in order to see in the gloom beneath their closely-packed branches. At least she found several different types of mushrooms that she knew had alchemical properties on the way. In no time at all they joined the other ingredients in her ever-growing bag.

The ground began to slope upward once more, and Teresa cursed the bag of loot hanging over her back. It was only crystals, money, books, and a few other odds and ends, she thought, the things that were not heavy. Yet after an entire night of trudging, it felt like she was carrying a bag full of stones. All of the armor and weapons of the bandits were still piled up back in Vilverin, she thought, waiting for her to come back for them. How on Nirn was she going to lug all of that to a city, if even this much was so heavy?

She was going to have to learn a Feather spell, the forester thought, or to make potions of it. Either that or buy a mule! She had heard some thieves carried enchanted bags for carrying loot. Maybe she could talk to Methredhel and get one?

She lay down to sleep as the sun rose to start another day. Once more her dreams were tortured by monsters, and the wood elf was glad to wake in the fading light before trudging on with her loot in hand.

It was long after dark when the heavy forest thinned out, revealing an open hilltop before her. Pushing the Night Eye goggles up on her forehead, Teresa looked upon it with her own eyes. She saw a small city of white stone sprawling out from the rise. A ring of walls stood at the base of the hill, with tall, round towers regularly-spaced along its length. Emerald and ivory banners flew from the battlements and spires above, while elves in snow white armor walked beneath them.

A random jumble of buildings rose up the slopes of the hill behind the fortifications. All of white stone, they stretched high into the sky, with gently curved roofs whose tiles fairly glowed in the moonlight. A wide street ran straight from the main gate in front of her to the top of the hill. There she saw a great palace of white stone. Crowning it was a massive statue of an armored elf being lifted into the air by a mighty eagle.

Teresa blinked. Before her stood nothing but broken and toppled stones. There were no walls, and only a scattering of smashed flagstones revealed the wide thoroughfare that she had thought she had seen rising to the crest of the hill. Atop it she did see the remnants of a once-great structure, now only tumbled down blocks of stone. Yet the statue of the elf and eagle did stand at the crown of the ruin, arms and wings broken off and draped in ivy and moss.

What on Nirn was that? Teresa wondered. Had she simply imagined it all?

Just as with Vilverin, she felt a strange desire to set her feet upon the white stones of the ancient road and climb to the remnants of the former palace. This time however, the wood elf's better judgment won out over her curiosity. The last time she had gone into a place like that it had nearly killed her, she thought. Besides, she had still not carted off all the loot from the previous ruin. It would still be here when she was done with that. She could come back afterward to explore it.

With that in mind, the wood elf faded back into the pines and skirted the Ayleid site. If there were more necromancers in there, or worse, she did not want them seeing her. "Better safe than sorry," Simplicia had always told her. Words Teresa had lived by all of her life, until meeting the Emperor at least.

The forester came upon a river beyond the ruin, flowing down from the higher ground in the north and vanishing into the night to the south. It was wide, but not deep, so Teresa had little difficulty crossing. Soon afterward she found another, and wondered if the two might be connected somewhere.

Crossing it as well, she continued on through the night. Even though she could not see them through the screen of trees, she could still hear the waters of the rivers nearby. By the time the sun was rising in the east, she found the ground had begun to slope downward. It was well over the horizon when she broke from the trees and found herself standing upon a jumble of massive rocks.

The bowl of a wide valley spread out beneath her feet, the slopes of its walls blanketed in trees. A waterfall spilled down a series of rocky cliffs to her right, its roar now filling her ears. A second fall cut through the forest beyond that, and their waters combined to form a vast lake in the floor of the valley below.

It stretched on for miles, and it looked like a vast blue potato from where she stood. It narrowed into a river to the south, and she could see its waters went on for perhaps only a mile before plunging to create another waterfall. A second lake formed beneath that, shaped more like a gigantic pear. At its wide southern end the wood elf thought she could make out a road, and tiny clumps that might be settlements spaced out along it.

Teresa eased her bags from her shoulder and sat at the edge of the rocks. She allowed a faint smile to escape her lips as she took in the view. The sun embraced her pale cheeks as her eyes traced the outlines of the lakes, and the roar of the nearby waterfalls blocked out every other sound.

It was so beautiful, she found herself thinking, so wide open, boundless, and filled with green life. In the city she was lucky to see fifty feet before her view was blocked by the grey stone of a wall or insula. Yet here in the mountains she could see for miles upon miles. Farther than she could walk in a day. A world with no beginning or end. There was no place she could not go, nothing she could not see.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 8 2010, 10:37 PM

[Olen]

Lovely description of the land, it really came alive for me and evoked memories of actual places which was brilliant.

looked like a vast blue potato

I liked this, funny but effective.

The Alyeid ruin coming to life was intreguing... Makes me wonder...

Not sure if this is a (minor) nit or deliberate:
and wondered if it might be a connected to the first somewhere upstream. -- being the stickler for accuricy I am I feel obliged to point out that it's exceptionally rare for a river course to split, of course Teresa probably wouldn't know this... and honestly it's hardly anything.

Anyway great description, I can't wait to see Chedinhall.

[haute ecole rider]

Beautiful description of the land. I especially loved the mirage of the Ayleid ruin at the top of the ridge between Lake Rumare and Cheydinhal (yes, I believe I know the one you speak of - impressive place).

A nit or two:

The forester came upon a river beyond the ruin, flowing down from the higher ground in the north and vanishing into the night to the south. It was wide, but not deep, so Teresa had little difficulty crossing. Soon afterward she found another, and wondered if it might be a connected to the first somewhere upstream.

Did you mean a connection? or might be connected to? One other thing, as Olen said, it is rare for watercourses to split - it is more common for them to join, so the connection would be downstream rather than upstream.

Beautiful walk through the forest!

[Winter Wolf]

Now this was my sort of chapter. Vivid descriptions, awesome use of imagination, that all really paints the scenery and brings it all to life. Yippeee!!

The Ayleid ruin coming to life was one of your best yet (and that is saying something!). I felt a chill up the spine when it reverted back to its current broken state. That part was epic.

Most of the Oblivion game is exactly this, ferns and trees and lakes and flowers and walking. The turning cycle of the land and world around you. The way you wrote it was beyond awesome!!

She was going to have to learn a Feather spell, the forester thought, or to make potions of it. Either that or buy a mule! She had heard some thieves carried enchanted bags for carrying loot. Maybe she could talk to Methredhel and get one?

Bobg's dragon wouldn't go astray either.

[D.Foxy]

Why am I so lucky? Many of the writers I love are rewriting their already brilliant prose, and doing it so well that they now shine with a light that hurts my eyes...


... carry on my Rose!

A rose may be described by any other prose
But this prose is not like any other - it goes
deeper, sweeter, neater and thus it shows
That prose, in any other Rose, would not smell as sweet.

[Destri Melarg]

Okay, I have finally caught back up with the TF. Forgive the length of this post but I thought I would give you my comments on each chapter as I read it.

Chapter 7c – Vilverin

I agree with Winter Wolf in that this chapter must have been a difficult write. It isn’t easy to carry a chapter of this size without dialogue or any real character interaction (shooting zombies and skeletons doesn’t really count). I thought you did a good job of keeping it interesting without bogging us down with too much description.

Nits:

Pretty much already addressed, but I did notice this:

Walking to the end of the of the bier, she felt the stones shift under her feet.

Here you have an awkward repetition.

And not really a nit per say, but it seemed odd that given the speed in which she fired the first two arrows at that initial zombie she encountered that it would take her ‘backtracking through several chambers in the process’ of firing off two more.

Chapter 7d – Vilverin

One of the things I like best about the whole expedition into Vilverin is the subtle shift in Teresa’s emotional state. She goes from curiosity at the size and majesty of the ruin, to dread that the fate that met so many inside those murky depths might be one that she is destined to share, and finally to the resolute determination that she will avenge the lives of so many whom she didn’t even know. Those who under different circumstances she would actually be using her bow against. You present each of these states in an organic and believable way that grows naturally from the setting, and by the end of the chapter we want to see Teresa exact vengeance on behalf of a bunch of bandits. That in the end she doesn’t get to is disappointing, but it’s nice to read that Jalbert will be making a return.

Chapter 7e – Vilverin

After her odyssey through Vilverin I really loved this:

She only glanced at the bier with the skeleton on it. It was not moving, and that was all that really concerned her.

De Vermis Mysteriis sounded familiar, though I have never read Bloch’s take on Lovecraft’s creation (that is, if Cthulhu is truly Lovecrafts). Mysteries of the Worm is a perfect title for a tome on necromancy. If memory serves, wasn’t there an old movie in which Christopher Lee (or someone comparable like Vincent Price) plays a vampire called Count Alucard (which is Dracula backwards)?

And borrowing from the Marquis De Sade is an especially nice touch. Especially when, upon first reading the sentence, I thought that The Misfortunes of Virtue was the Imperial Guidebook!

Chapter 8a – The Witch of Lake Trasimene

I am with Acadian on this. It’s nice to follow a character on the periphery of the main quest hearing of events from the rumor mill. I imagine that as time goes on the telling of those events will become more and more exaggerated (as rumors tend to do), but Teresa will have her knowledge of the real people involved to draw upon.

It is also nice to see the Elder Council taking action in the wake of what must be the single greatest crisis that Tamriel has faced since the rise of the Camoran Usurper. One thing (of many) that always bothered me in the game was the lack of activity from the Elder Council with Oblivion Gates opening all around them.

Chapter 8b – The Witch of Lake Trasimene

Ditto for me on the description. Given all that she has been through in the past few chapters, it seems only natural that things might start taking on a dreamlike quality to Teresa’s exhausted eyes. That’s why I didn’t even blink when the Ayleid ruin started to come to life.

On a side note: You decided to go with Lake Trasimene, eh? I think that’s a great idea! Trasimene has a distinctly Elder Scrolls feel to it, and selfishly I’ve always been fascinated by Hannibal. Who knows how history might now be different if the Carthiginians had only given him the support he needed.

[SubRosa]

Olen: Thank you. I was inspired to use the potato by Carl Sagan, who along with other astronomers has described the moon Phobos as a looking like a lumpy potato. It seemed like exactly the kind of comparison that would come to Teresa's mind as well.

And thank you for the nits. Fixed.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. That ruin is Belda. I have been wrestling with a way for Teresa to know the names of the ruins she finds. One thought is that the name might be at the main door, in same way that we put city names on signs at the limits. Of course it would be written in Ayleidic, which would not help her much...


Winter Wolf: Thank you wolf. I am using this opportunity to rework things to go back and lay in some extra groundwork for future events. In this case with Teresa and the Ayleid ruins, which we will come to fruition in the very distant future.


D.Foxy: Would you like me to send you some of those goggles people wore during the A-Bomb tests to make reading easier...


Destri Melarg: Yaay! My favorite trumpet-playing Redguard historian is back.

I did work very hard on Vilverin, both to create a steadily building mood of tension and horror, but also to make sure Teresa's motivations remained believable. As you noted, she began with simple curiosity (and perhaps some deeper pull which she cannot explain), and was slowly drawn in further and further by the mystery. That she had become the avenger of a group of people who would have gladly killed her was something I found ironic as well. Actually, that was one reason I made an effort to really work on the evidence of Jalbert's horrors. I wanted it to be plain that while the bandits were obviously bad people, they were must minor leaguers compared to him.

The movie you are thinking of is Son of Dracula, starring Lon Chaney. I am more used to Alucard from the anime series Hellsing myself. In the game the letter was written to Captain Aluc Cardius. I decided to be simple and just go straight to the homage.

Cthulhu himself was Lovecrafts, he wrote The Call of Cthulhu, in which everyone's tentacle-faced best friend makes his first appearance in literature. The entire mythos that has been created is another story however. He (Lovecraft) is more the grandfather of it all. It is amazing how many writers have lent their hand to the sub-genre of horror which it comprises.

As usual, I hate coming up with original names. So with the lakes I went to history to provide me some, and at the same time add me some local flavor as well (as will be seen in the next few chapters, when Teresa learns the history of the lakes). Yes, Hannibal is involved. Well, an E.S. version of him at least.

Was Camoran the Usurper when James Cameron tried to take over Hollywood and mandated that every movie must have at least one explosion every five minutes?


All: Next Teresa meets the person whom this chapter is named after, and begins to learn something about her mysterious relationship with ravens.

Also Tsume is not an original name. Can anyone guess where I got it from?


* * *

Chapter 8c - The Witch of Lake Trasimene

The smell of wood smoke came to the Bosmer's nose. Looking down, she found a small cottage. It sat in a clearing at the edge of the first lake, not far from where the nearest waterfall emptied its contents into the wide, blue waters. She could see a garden behind the building, filled with vegetables of all varieties.

Her stomach grumbled at the sight. She had eaten the last of her bread during the night. The promise of another meal was all the incentive the wood elf needed to rise to her feet and gather her things. Whoever lived there would have food, she thought, and she had plenty of septims to pay for it.

She found a pathway leading down not far from the rocks upon which she stood. Following it down the slope of the valley, she imagined that she must be near the cottage when she heard a low growl in the trees nearby.

Stopping instantly, the forester fixed the symbol for her Command Animal power in her mind. Looking about herself, she found the author of the sound easing from the brush to her left. It was a wolf, covered in grey fur that lightened to a softer white under his chest. A long scar ran diagonally across his breastbone, quite old from the look of it. His lips curled up from his clenched jaws, exposing long fangs as he voiced his displeasure at Teresa.

"Hey there fella, it's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," the wood elf said in a soothing tone. "Are you by yourself, or do you have any friends around?" Her eyes moved to and fro. Usually wolves traveled in packs, she knew. She had not seen one alone since her first time in the forest, over a month ago.

The wolf continued to snarl, and slowly approached Teresa. She knelt down on her haunches and looked him in the eye. She did not see or hear any other animals, so she imagined that he must be alone. She hoped so, because her bow stave was unstrung and on her back, and her power only worked on one animal at a time. Not that wolves had ever given her any real trouble in the past…

"I'm Teresa," she continued in the same soft voice. "Now what is your name?"

The wolf stopped his growling, and tilted his head to one side. For a moment the Bosmer wondered if he could understand her. He wagged his tail and opened his mouth to pant for a moment. Leaning back his head, he let out a short howl. A moment later he was trotting up to Teresa and sniffing her hands.

The forester's heart doubled its pace, but she kept still and let the predator get a good whiff of her. She had not even used her Command Animal and he was acting friendly! Careful lest the wolf's mood suddenly change, she slowly took off her gauntlets and stroked her bare fingers through the white fur under his muzzle. The next thing she knew he was licking her cheeks, and Teresa could not stifle a faint smile as she sat on the dirt and petted the wolf.

Screenshot

"Well now, it seems Tsume likes you. That's unusual." Teresa nearly jumped at the woman's voice. Looking up, she found a wood elf standing on the path ahead. She wore a brown bodice edged in green over a white chemise, while a tan skirt covered her legs. Her grey eyes flashed in the morning light, and her hair was a bright shade of auburn. If she had been an Imperial Teresa would have put her age around twenty. Yet her eyes were heavy with years, and Teresa wondered if she might be at least a century in age.

The wolf leapt to his feet and trotted over to the newcomer with a wag in his tail. Walking around her legs and rubbing his shoulder against her skirts, he sat beside the older Bosmer, who let one hand drop to stroke the fur on top of his head.

"Um hello, I'm Teresa." The forester rose to her feet, pulling the gauntlets back on her hands. Then she motioned to the wolf at the other woman's feet. "Is he yours? He's certainly very friendly."

"Tsume? He would sooner eat most people he meets. You must be special indeed." The other wood elf seemed to be appraising Teresa, who had to fight to keep from blushing at the last sentence. "I am Morcant, and I don't own him. Tsume keeps me company is all, when he chooses to."

"So that must be your house I saw from up there." Teresa motioned with one hand to the ridge rising up behind her. "If you have some extra bread, I would be glad to buy it. I have gold."

The auburn-haired woman chuckled for a moment. "I can do better than bread," she murmured. Then she waved Teresa forward and turned back down the path, the wolf walking by her side. Teresa lifted her gear and scampered down the trail behind them. Soon she found herself standing before the same cottage she had seen from above. With carefully-fitted stone walls and a thatch roof, it looked both solid and cozy, with the lake to one side, forest to the other, and garden behind it.

Screenshot

"You certainly picked a beautiful place to stay." The forester breathed as she took in the scene. "I think I could live in a place like this forever."

"That's funny, most people say I'm crazy for living out here by myself." The other woman stepped through the door and into her home. Teresa followed, and found herself in a comfortable abode. Large open windows let in plenty of light and a cool breeze off the lake. The wooden floor was covered in thick carpets, and the walls were hung with tapestries depicting wild animals or intricate knot-work patterns. A pair of rocking chairs sat near a wide hearth built into the far wall, and an iron pot bubbled over its flames. An oven sat next to it, along with a long table. A simple rattan bed was stretched out along the wall to the other side of the hearth, along with a dressing table and wardrobe.

"I think it's wonderful," Teresa said honestly, taking in the small, yet very inviting home around her.

The smell of cinnamon filled Teresa's nostrils. The older wood elf stepped to the table and lifted a plate of rolls laden with white frosting and dusted with darker cinnamon. The forester could see steam rising from them as Morcant held the plate up and motioned for her to try one. Taking it in her hand, Teresa found the roll was sticky in her fingers, yet tasted exquisite as she took her first bite.

"I just took them out of the oven," Morcant said, taking a bite from one herself. "I have a pot of stew on as well. You are welcome to some once it is done."

"Oh that is alright, just the rolls are fine," Teresa said, eyeing the pot in the fireplace. "I don't eat meat anyway."

"I know," the other woman said with a smile, stepping over to the wide iron pot and stirring it with a ladle. "It's all vegetables from my garden, and those I trade with the farmers down by the Blue Road for. Rice, carrots, leeks, red potatoes, onion, and celery. With some flour to thicken the broth, and basil and rosemary for extra flavor."

"You know I don't eat meat?" Teresa said, stepping closer and looking down into the pot herself. "There is a lot of stew there for only one person."

"But it's not for one person is it?" the other woman said as she stepped to a cupboard and began making tea. "I woke up this morning and found a raven sitting in the windowsill, staring right at me. He told me you were coming."

Teresa remembered the raven that had sat down on the dock next to her at Sideways. How she had just known that Martin was safe when it looked at her. Then she recalled all the other times since meeting the Emperor that the ravens and crows had guided her. Leading her to Chorrol, to Weye, and even Vilverin.

"So they talk to you too!" Teresa gasped, her eyes widening in spite of herself.

"They all talk to me dear," the older woman smiled as she handed Teresa a cup of tea. She sat in one of the rocking chairs, and at her gesture Teresa sat in the other. Tsume walked over and lay down at her feet, tucking his head between his forelegs and closing his eyes in contentment. "Raven, Bear, Wolf, Stag, Serpent, Turtle, and all the rest. I'm a Witch after all."

"You're a Witch!" Teresa almost spat the tea from her lips. The wolf, her living alone in the wilderness, now it all made sense to the young wood elf. "But you-"

"But I what?" Morcant smiled over the rim of her cup. Teresa had the distinct impression that the other woman found her discomfort terribly amusing.

"I… I don't know." Teresa muttered. "I guess you just don't look much like a Witch is all."

"What is a Witch supposed to look like?" the other woman asked coyly.

"I… I'm not sure really." the forester replied honestly. "I don't know what a Witch really is, to be truthful. I just hear about them all the time in the bard's tales, and they are usually trouble."

"I'll tell you a secret Teresa," the other woman leaned closer, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I don't know what a Witch really is either, but everyone calls me that. I guess because I'm not part of the Mages Guild, and would rather be around animals than people. Or maybe it's because I listen to the bones of the world when they speak, and learn my magic from them rather than those pompous hypocrites in the Arcane University."

Teresa felt herself start to relax. So much of that sounded just like herself. Well, at least the part about liking animals. "The bones of the world?" she found herself asking as she took another sip of tea. "Are those gods, like the Nine?"

"Yes, in a way," the other woman explained, then pointed to the black feathers in Teresa's hair. "You should know already, you are obviously on very good terms with some of them."

"You mean the ravens?" the young wood elf wondered aloud, the fingers of one hand running over the feathers adorning her crimson tresses. "Ever since I first stepped in the forest, they have been with me somehow."

"Not the ravens," the other woman corrected. "Raven. He is your spirit-guide. One of them at least. Tell me, do you have dreams about him? Do you ever fly in them? Does he show you things? Do ravens in the waking world ever seem to guide you places? Or warn you about things?"

"Nocturnal yes!" Teresa practically wanted to leap from her seat and hug the other woman. She was not crazy after all, she thought, or imagining things. It was all real! "How come I have never heard about any of this before? No one ever talks about these, what did you call them, spirit-guides?"

"You must have lived with Imperials all your life," the other woman said dryly. "Most round-ears are afraid of everything except the Nine. Bring up the Nirn Spirits, or Daedra, and they would like to stone you. After what the Ayleids did to them, it is no surprise I suppose…"

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 24 2010, 10:16 PM

[Olen]

Excellent as ever, a refreshing view on what a witch would be and most likely more historically accurite. There's a heavy spiritual edge to this story which would fit well with with some more modern interpritations of witchcraft. It adds a good amount of depth and substance to the story as well as driving it, I want to know more about Teresa's abilities and how this 'not in game' magic works. It makes sense that there'd be more than just wizardry type magic.

So yes great in developing your version of the world and I'm fascinated to find out more about Morcant (and see more of Teresa) and see where this goes.

"I don't know what a Witch really is either, but everyone calls me that.

I loved that line.



This post has been edited by Olen: May 9 2010, 12:05 AM

[ureniashtram]

I finally caught up with this. And I must say, you are very talented!

Tsume.. Tsu-me... つめ。。 Oh I don't know, in anime perhaps? Because I can only see or hear that name in Japanese. One of my colleague's, a girl of course, nick-name is actually Tsume, so... Anime?

Anyway, this is good stuff and I want to see more. Intrigued...

[Winter Wolf]

I sense a real opening up of your personality within this chapter. The beautiful description of witchcraft and the surroundings that flows from was a joy to read. It must give you a tremendous amount of satisfaction to be able to incorprate your love into the story, and rightfully so, the world that you describe sits wonderfully well within the Elder Scrolls. Bravo !!

How awesome to see Teresa's love of wildlife come through here. The way you wrote Tsume was so lovely.

I really like the dream sequences that appear within your writing now. Was this partly inspired by the fun you had with 'Through a Nightmare, Darkly' quest in Bravil?

More, more.

This post has been edited by Winter Wolf: May 9 2010, 01:57 AM

[D.Foxy]

*sings*

If you knew Tsume...like I knew Tsu-u-u-me...

:wink:

[ureniashtram]

I never thought D.Foxy could sing! Anyway about the Tsume topic.. I found it in site and did NOT like what I saw. Broadcasting that stuff is hazardous to Yourself, lol!

This post has been edited by ureniashtram: May 9 2010, 04:42 AM

[haute ecole rider]

wonderful chapter about meeting the so-called witch.

I have often wondered how many independent women living alone through the ages have been called witches because they are not married, do not depend on a man, support themselves, and above all, think for themselves. When a person chooses to live outside of society's norms, such a person often becomes ostracized, sadly enough.

This makes me want to know more, especially after the last line:

After what the Ayleids did to them, it is no surprise I suppose…"

The history buff in me wants to hear more!

[minque]

ohh so many chapters to read! I must say your description of Vilverine and the necromancer was....strong! Very vivid indeed, not pleasant but very very thrilling! brrrrr

As I continued through the chapters I found things being a bit more pleasant, the meeting with the so called witch was brilliant...humorous.....

Like this:

"You must have lived with Imperials all your life," the other woman said dryly. "Most round-ears are afraid of everything except the Nine.

Made me smile....

I really appreciate this story and Teresa has become a friend sort of....whom I like to follow through the beautiful landscape (as you describe it)

Thank you for posting here!

[Destri Melarg]

Was Camoran the Usurper when James Cameron tried to take over Hollywood and mandated that every movie must have at least one explosion every five minutes?

I believe so; it went right along with the ‘Michael Bay Moment’ when everyone spontaneously runs in slow motion every ten minutes!

Sorry for the horrible spelling of Camoran, I can only plead that I have recently seen Avatar for the first time and I am still cursing James Cameron for the two hours and forty-two minutes that he usurped from my life.

On to the TF:

My first thought upon reading this chapter is that if one were to live by oneself out in the middle of nowhere it would be nice for one to have a wolf that occasionally chooses to keep one company. Such a wolf would be ideal for keeping other predators and any undesirable people away. With Tsume's blessing I happily followed Teresa into Morcant’s home and contentedly sampled the cinnamon rolls.

Then Morcant started talking about the ravens.

I don’t know why, but for the next few paragraphs all I could think about was the fact that the boiling pot of vegetables might have been left there waiting for some stringy wood elf meat (Bosmer are notorious for cannibalism, after all). Thankfully it seems that I couldn’t be further from the truth. Dare I say that Teresa has found a mentor?

[SubRosa]

Olen: Thank you Olen. It is not just Witchcraft I am using as a basis though, but Core-Shamanism in general. My goal here is to develop Teresa into a similar spiritual mindset as you might find in a Native American, Inuit, or Zulu, Native Australian, etc... person.

The line about not knowing what a Witch really is was actually a dig I could not resist taking against Bethesda, who cannot decide what a Witch is in their games, but love to throw the word around. Daggerfall has lots of Witch covens, and they seem to be people who summon and worship Daedra in that game. The Western Reach of High Rock is said to be inhabited by Witchmen because of their magical abilities. Skyrim's Wtiches seem to be people who take men's clothing. In Bloodmoon they have Witches who do not seem to summon Daedra, but are instead there to cure you of lycanthropy. In Oblivion one cures you of vampirism. In those games Daedra summoners and worshipers are not called Witches, otherwise Mankar Camoran and the entire Mythic Dawn would be Witches. Same with all those people camped out at the Daedric shrines. For that matter, the Nerevarine too, being that he/she is essentially an agent of Azura.


ureniashtram: Thank you uren. You are on the right track about Tsume. He is one of the main characters from the anime Wolf's Rain. I am not sure what you are referring to that was so horrible in your searches though. When I googled the name I get a bunch of Wolf's Rain references. Unless you mean the slash fiction, one of those side-effects of having a lot of straight female fans...


Winter Wolf: Thank you Wolf. I have not really gone deeply into the spirituality stuff yet. I have tried to make sure it fits snugly into the ES universe. Hopefully it will fill a gap that was long left empty.

Except for the one where Teresa sees Martin and the others, the dream sequences were entirely taken from my own personal experiences.


D.Foxy: I take it that you know Tsume from the slash...


haute ecole rider: Do not forget women who have sex with whomever they want, and even more shockingly, refuse to have sex with those they do not want.

The history buff in you prompted me to go back and do some rewriting of the next part of the chapter. Otherwise I was just going to gloss over all of that. So once again people's comments do directly influence what I write.


minque: Thank you minque. Teresa is meant to be one of those characters who slowly grows on you, and (hopefully) draws you in as she slowly discovers the world, and her own hidden strengths.


Destri Melarg: You had me laughing with the part about the stew! Thankfully for Teresa, the whole cannibalism thing is something I am not using, at least not for the vast majority of Bosmer. You can indeed dare to say that she has found a mentor instead.

btw. keep your eyes peeled for your appearance in the TF below!


All: This one will run a bit long. Blame h.e.r. for her history lesson!

* * *

Chapter 8d - The Witch of Lake Trasimene


"You mean the whole slavery thing?" Teresa said with a furrowed brow, "but that was a long time ago."

"Not just slavery," the Witch said after taking another sip of tea. "The Ayleids sacrificed them to the Daedric Princes, in return for Daedric soldiers to serve in their armies. If that were not bad enough, they also used human souls to create their great enchantments, then animated the bodies to serve them even in death. All of those great cities of theirs are built upon the bones and devoured souls of millions of humans, Khajiit, and Argonians."

"The Ayleids used their souls?" Teresa asked, trying not to remember what she had seen in the ruin.

"Yes, there is a great deal of magical energy bound up within our souls. The very divinity within us." Morcant said with a sour expression on her face. "That energy can be taken if the soul is destroyed. Death of the body is natural, allowing the spirit to return to the Otherworld and prepare for rebirth. Yet there is no afterlife, no rebirth, nothing, after that."

"That's monstrous!" Teresa blurted out, nearly spitting out her tea.

"Yes, it is." Morcant stared down at her own cup before raising her eyes back to Teresa's. "Because of that, in the end even Nirn itself wanted them dead."

The two of them sat in silence for long moments. What would it be like, to have your soul taken and destroyed? she wondered. How could someone do that to another?

"So did the Ayleids have spirit-guides too then?" she asked. "If they did, now could they do those things?"

"They did, at least at first," Morcant sighed. "But they turned away long before the end. At one time all of our race followed not only what are now called the Nine Divines, but all the Nirn Spirits. The Dunmer stopped when they went to Morrowind. Then the Altmer when they got so self-important that mere spirits of the land, sea, and sky were beneath them. Only we Bosmer still keep the Old Ways, and honor those beings that sacrificed their all to create our world."

"You make it sound like they died?" Teresa said, finishing her tea and looking across the room at the cinnamon rolls on the table. Following her eyes, the Witch rose to her feet and brought the plate over so that Teresa could lift another to her lips.

"They did, in a manner of speaking," Morcant explained. "When Lorkhan persuaded the other gods to create our world, he did not tell them how much it would cost them. Many gave every last bit of their energy, and ceased to be. At least in the way they once were. Instead they literally became this world. The trees, the rocks, the mountains, everything... The wood in the chair you are sitting in, even the air you breathe, is part of those divine spirits. As are you and I."

"But that would make us all gods!" Teresa mumbled through a mouthful of cinnamon.

"Yes, we are all divine, as is the world we live in." Morcant sat back down in the chair across from Teresa. "Now you see why they call me a Witch…"

Teresa nodded. She imagined most Imperials would not like hearing that one bit. All they ever did was go on about how high and mighty the Nine Divines were. Anyone who didn't bow and scrape to them was a heretic in their eyes.

"So what about spirit-guides, like Raven?" she asked. "Are they these spirits, that became the bones of the world then?"

"Now you are catching on," Morcant said. "They are not individual beings anymore. They are the forces of nature. So we cannot physically speak to them as we can the Nine or the Daedric Princes. It is only our Lower Selves that know them, what the Imperials call our unconscious. We know them in dreams - mythic poetry - buried in the divinity that is within us."

Teresa nodded. Now it was all making sense. The strange dreams, the way she had sometimes just known things. Everything, well, almost at least.

"So how come I never met my spirit guide before?" she asked as she licked the last remnant of sticky frosting off her fingers. "It wasn't until a month ago that I started having the dreams, and seeing ravens and crows everywhere."

"Did you ever actually stop and pay attention before?" Morcant asked pointedly. "Or were you too wrapped up your mundane life to notice? It takes two to dance you know."

Teresa felt her cheeks grow warm, and looked down at her empty tea cup. "I guess not," she mumbled. "Sometimes it seems like I was not even alive until a month ago."

"Maybe you were not," Morcant suggested. "We all go through many metaphorical deaths and rebirths as we pass from one phase of life to another, from childhood to adulthood, from student to teacher, and so on. You might find a different spirit-guide coming to you every time you go down a new path. Or you might have the same one all of your life. They may not be the guides that you expected, or wanted, but they are always what you need."

"So tell me about Raven?" Teresa asked. "He leads people places doesn't he, and warns them of danger?"

"Oh yes, you know him well indeed," the other woman said, now rising to her feet and stepping to the hearth. Dipping the ladle into the stew, she lifted it to her lips and took a cautious sip. A smile crested her features, and she swung the pot from the fire and carried it to the table with a pair of thick hand-cloths. Teresa followed, and sat beside the older woman as she spooned out two bowls of the steaming liquid.

"Raven knows the secrets of transformation, of moving from one state to another." The auburn-haired Bosmer explained as she took another sip of the stew. "He is a guide for all those who go through change in their lives, helping them find their way when it seems their entire world has turned upside down."

"Well, that is me alright," Teresa thought out loud as she tried a spoonful of the stew. The stew was hot and tangy, but tasted wonderful as it slid down her throat. "Raven likes the dark too I think."

"Ah yes," the Witch smiled. "You have noticed that. Before the creation of our world, Raven's home was the void, so he travels through the darkness without fear. He is a guide for all who must walk through dark places. As such he carries the souls of the dead from this world to the next, so they can be born anew.

"I guess he doesn't like necromancers much then," Teresa said, remembering the bird that had led her to Vilverin.

"Not at all," the Witch hissed, and for a moment Teresa thought she might spit into her bowl. "Those who corrupt the dead, and enslave their souls, are the enemy to both the living and the dead. They pervert the natural cycle of life and death that sustains our world." The older wood elf stared down at the blackened cloth that covered Teresa's frame, and the forester could see a light dawning in the Witch's eyes. "Is that how your tunic got ruined, a necromancer? I thought you looked strange."

"Yeah," Teresa looked down into her bowl and shuddered in spite of herself. "It was in Vilverin. There was a necromancer, real piece of work. I won't say what he did to the bandits I found there. I don't like to think about it. The fetcher got away too…"

"The bandits?" the other woman asked, one hand falling to take Teresa's arm. "Was one of them a Redguard? A man with a goatee, carrying a Dwemer mace?"

"Ummm, I think so," Teresa remembered the two Redguards he had seen outside of the ruin. As she recalled, the man did have a short beard, and a mace. Had it been Dwemer? It had been dark, but now that she thought about it, it did have that bronze-look to it that all of their artifacts possessed.

"Yes, he was." Teresa answered more confidently now, looking up into the Witch's eyes. Now it was the turn for the other woman's gaze to fall, and her hand fell away. "I'm sorry, did you know him?"

"His name was Destri," she nodded. "He was just here a week ago. He had gotten stonejoint from a rat that bit him. I cured him for that suit of armor there." Teresa followed the other woman's gesture to a pile of leather and hide in the far corner of the room, beyond her bed. "I didn't even need the armor. It's not like I ever wear the stuff. I just liked him."

"I'm sorry," Teresa said quietly, thinking of the Emperor. "I know what it's like to lose someone."

"Well, maybe I'll meet him again in the next lifetime," Morcant sighed. Rising from the table, she walked across the room to where the armor was piled on the floor. Pulling out the cuirass, she held it up and eyed Teresa. "I think it will probably fit you. It was made for Bosmer women after all. What do you think?"

The forester suppressed a faint smile as she put down her spoon and stood up. The last thing she wanted was to look happy when the other woman's friend was dead, even if he was a bandit. Walking across the room, she found that the light brown leather did seem about her size. "It should fit," she breathed. Looking between the ample space in the upper half of the garment, then back down at her own chest, she went on, "it might even be a little roomy. Will you trade me for it? I have gold."

"Gold is not something I really have a need for," the other woman frowned, then looked at the sack of loot Teresa had deposited near the door. "What else do you have in that bag of yours."

"I have some magic crystals you might like," the young wood elf offered as she walked back to the sack and knelt down beside it. Untying the cord that squeezed off its lip, she began to pull out the loot she had found in the Ayleid ruin. Pain lanced through her fingers, and she yanked her hand back with a yelp. A shard of broken glass fell away from her bleeding flesh, and Teresa cursed even as she focused on the symbol of her healing spell.

"I can help with tha-" the Witch offered, stepping to the young woman's side. But the forester waved her off with her good hand. Calling up the magicka within her, she loosed it into the symbol of her spell. A moment later a white light fell around her body, leaving her skin whole once more behind it.

"I see you know a few tricks after all young one," Morcant said with hint of respect.

"Just a little, I'm not a real magician or anything." Teresa replied with a frown, now looking carefully into the sack. She found that the alembic and retort she had taken from Vilverin were both broken, and bits of shattered glass from each were strewn about the inside of the canvas bag. Picking the pieces out carefully and setting them aside, she glanced back up at the Witch. "I guess these do not travel well."

"No they don't," the other woman replied, and Teresa could see that she was restraining a laugh. Then her eyes lit up as the forester withdrew the one crystal that was long and slender at both ends, with the metal lattice around its center. "You have a varla stone!"

"Is that what it's called?" Teresa asked, looking down at the odd crystal. "I know it has magicka in it, but I don't know how you can get it out. I can tell you can just pull it right up from those other ones."

"Yes, those are welkynd stones, anyone can use them to replenish their magicka," the Witch said offhandedly. Reaching out her hand, she lifted the other stone and held it up to the light. "But this is something altogether different. A magician can add the energy within a varla stone to their own when they are enchanting. It can double, or even triple the power of the things they can create."

"So is it destroyed after you use it?" Teresa asked, looking up at the older woman. "I heard that magic stones are like that."

"Oh no, those are magicka gems you are thinking of," the Witch replied. "Those are just regular crystals that you can fill with your own magicka. After they are enchanted first of course. They turn to dust when you pull the magicka back out again later, because they cannot take the strain. The same as with a scroll. These Ayleid stones are made from meteoric glass though, the stuff of the stars themselves. They naturally draw power directly from the sky just as we do ourselves, and never wear out. It just takes a few days for them to build up energy after each use."

"That sounds pretty valuable," Teresa said with an appraising eye. "A lot more than just a suit of armor."

"How about magic armor?" the Witch smiled down at the forester. "Give me the varla stone, and I will use it to enchant that suit for you."

Teresa allowed a faint smile to escape her lips. "Throw in another cinnamon roll and you have a deal."

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jan 7 2011, 12:50 AM

[Remko]

Nice! some things were really familiar. Don't the Sioux or a different Ind- er... Native American tribe believe the Raven to be a spirit guide that leads spirits on to the eternal hunting grounds?

[haute ecole rider]

Well done! I loved the history lesson there!

@Remko: the Raven (as well as Coyote and Spider) is a very common motif among many Native American tribes, not just the Plains tribes most people think of when they think of N.A's. In the Southwest, the Spider is honored as the Grandmother who weaves the world from her web-silk. Coyote is the recurring clown, the practical jokester (the Northern European alternative, as I'm sure our lovely Nord minque would tell you, is Loki) among the Plains tribes, the Southwestern tribes, and even down into the natives of Central America. In South America, the jaguar is greatly feared and respected. The Raven (or Crow), being ubiquitous, seems to be common to all of these differing cultures, as I recall.

Back to TF: the food sounds wonderful! I was saddened, however, at the news that Destri did not survive the necromancer. Just from this little exchange, it sounds like he was quite the rapscallion!

[Destri Melarg]

Nice! some things were really familiar. Don't the Sioux or a different Ind- er... Native American tribe believe the Raven to be a spirit guide that leads spirits on to the eternal hunting grounds?

In addition to haute's detailed analysis, if you’re interested in knowing more, here is a good place to start.

Now to the TF:

I hope that Morcant is a character that will be hanging around for a while, she is positively fascinating. Her lessons in history and metaphysics carry the ring of truth. Reading her account of Ayleidic magic really brought home how terrible life must have been for the various human, khajiit, and argonian slaves who lived and died under their yoke.

I like your take on the Varla Stone. Making them re-usable is an interesting idea. I hope that the fact that they are re-usable makes them a lot rarer than they are in the game. It wouldn’t do for a character to be walking around with twenty of them.

Like haute I was disappointed that Destri didn’t survive Vilverin. I am honored that you decided to incorporate my name into the TF. When I read that Teresa will now be wearing armor once worn by this bandit (is that a reference to my TES star sign?), well, I am sure you can imagine the not so faint smile that I am having trouble suppressing.