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

[Thomas Kaira]

Another heart-warming segue into Brekke's life! She is certainly putting the name of the Bretons to a good example.

Her life has certainly turned around since her meeting Vols, now she has a job, a teacher, and a most pleasant father figure. Let us hope she will grow to follow Teresa's footsteps. She deserves a life of freedom, away from the hellish streets of the Imperial City.

Good show, Vols!

[mALX]

Magic, ..., is the ability to create change in accordance with will."

Magicka is ... the energy that powers all magic, just as pieces of wood are the fuel for a fire."

I love these lines, what a great way to explain it !!!

Our spirits attract magicka, just like ... flies attracted to garbage. ... the bigger pile of trash attracts more flies, the more powerful magician ... more magicka."

ROFL !!! Love this!! Next time I see a powerful wizard I will be thinking of trash and flies, lol !!

"You can do it. You have the power within you. You can do anything. You can make it happen. You will do it."

Brekke opened her hands, and a white light burst from her palms. First it rode up her arms, then it washed across the rest of her body. After it had completely bathed her in its glow, it faded away to a memory.

"Akatosh's bloody balls!" Volsinius breathed in amazement. The cuts on her face had completely vanished, without even a scar to mark their passage.

"You did it!"

she stared up at him with a mixture of surprise and triumph.

"Well done apprentice!"

"I really did it!"


***

I want to be a battlemage!"

"Damn right you will be kid," Volsinius said, ... Inside he groaned ... how was he going to pay for the Arcane University on a centurion's salary?

"BWAAA...Snork, snork." These two sections brought tears to my eyes and chill bumps at the same time !!!

AWESOME WRITE !!! I absolutely love this chapter, it has been added to my list of "fave of alls" in my "Teresa - Not A Hero" archive section of my brain !!!! Touching and wonderful !!!

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: Yep, whenever I read that last line I think: "Welcome to fatherhood!"


Olen: I see your point about Brekke's age. I went back and made it more clear that she is about 11 years old. I also went back and put the title of the book. I had in mind one from the game, and you can actually look it up in the wiki. Comparing it to a physics book would not be quite the right analogy though. More like one on poetry, or mythology (or both!) would be right for magic. I also went back to Calindil's discussion of magic to make that more clear.

I figure the Arcane U has several options for scholarships, like ROTC. I already established that the Mages Guild will pay for it if you sign you soul away to them (that is how Ardaline went to the U). There is also the red-haired Bosmer fund...


Sir Graves ghastley: Thank you for firing up my missing of. Probably got scared off by Vols' scars.

I have all the main points of Brekke's history worked out, including her birthsign. I have not had a good place to include any of it though. Not without it feeling like an infodump. Once there is a natural place for it to come out, it will though. Suffice to say she has not been on the street her entire life, and magic is in her stars.


Acadian: Oh noes! Not chicken Vols! At least Brekke will be safe from Vigge!


Grits: The next chapter (starting today) is all new, never before seen in any form. Of course many of the previous chapters were also all new. I added a lot of material when I started version 2.0 here at Chorrol. From here on out though, everything will be brand new.


Thomas Kaira: Vols is a pleasant father figure! I know some legionaries who would not agree!


mALX: I remember "Calgon, take me away!" The first of those descriptions of magic is very similar to how Aliestar Crowley described it: "The science and art of causing change to occur in conformity of Will.". Scott Cunningham said: "Magic is the projection of natural energies to produce needed effects." I usually just say: "Magic is the power to change things." Since that is what it boils down to in the end.


Next: Our previous chapter visited the Imperial City to look in on Vols and Brekke. Now we return to Teresa, and find her preparing dinner in the village of Silverbridge, just outside of Bravil. (btw. Decimus' real estate straits, and the name of his brother, are inspired by a certain piece of literature. Can anyone guess what it is?)


Chapter 31.1 - Inheritance

3rd - 8th Hearthfire, 3E433

"I want horse!"

Teresa looked up from the pan in which she was frying rice, bean sprouts, scallions, celery, and mushrooms in a thin layer of olive oil. At the other end of the single-roomed farmhouse sat a two year-old Imperial, furiously waving his arms in distress. An identical boy crawled along the threadbare carpet nearby, with a horse carved from wood in his hand. He made clopping noises as he bounced the toy along the floor in an imitation of a horse's gallop, and seemed completely oblivious to the other child.

"Mommy's coming Gaius." With that a dark-haired woman rose from her position in front of the gigantic pot hanging over the fireplace. She set down the metal tongs she had been using to stir the mudcrab that boiled merrily within the pot, and walked across the interior of the spacious stone-walled house to where the children played. Opening a chest next to a pair of small, rattan beds, she rummaged through its contents, only to produce another wooden horse a moment later. She gave it to the upset boy, who greedily snatched it out of her hands and began making whinnying noises with it.

"Now what do you say Gaius?" the woman asked, towering over him with hands on her hips.

"Thank you mum," the child sheepish replied before turning back to his play.

Teresa could not restrain a faint smile as she looked at the two boys playing. She could still remember doing the same with the wooden unicorn that Simplicia had given her when she was a child. That same battered and chipped unicorn now graced the nightstand next to her bed in the guild hall in Bravil. She had no idea how the old woman had gotten it. But she imagined it had not been easy. Not for a beggar at least.

"Oh they can be such a handful at times," the olive-skinned Nibenean sighed as she returned to the small kitchen area. "Whenever Flavius has something, Gaius instantly wants it too."

"I think they are wonderful Julia," Teresa breathed. "You are so lucky to have such beautiful children."

"Hah!" the other woman laughed. "You should try training them to use the chamber pot! Or cleaning up after them when they miss."

"I still think they are wonderful, cacat and all." Teresa turned back to her pan and furiously stirred its ingredients. If Pappy had stressed anything, it was to stir the vegetables often to make sure they did not burn. Afterward she turned her attention to the pot of brown sauce that sat next to the rice, and made sure the fire beneath the iron plate upon which it sat had not intensified. "Don't stir sauce." Pappy had told her. "It only makes it take longer to cook. Just keep it at a low simmer and it will never burn."

"You do such a good job of raising them." Teresa turned from the food to her hostess. "I cannot imagine looking after just one child, let alone four!"

"Well, father helps, with him watching Poppea and Quintis. I am so glad he came to stay with Marcus and I after my mother died. I don't know what I'd do without him." The other woman returned to the fireplace and poked at the boiling crab. "This looks about done I think."

"Good," Teresa said, lifting the pan from the iron stove and setting it down on the adjacent wooden counter. "This is done too. Why don't you get the others and I'll start setting the table?"

"You are too good to us Teresa," the Nibenean woman swung the pot out of the fire and gripped its handle with several bunched up hand cloths. Lugging it to the counter with obvious strain, she set the heavy burden down beside the pan of fried rice. "You are supposed to be our guest. You shouldn't be working."

"Nonsense." Teresa spooned the fried rice into a wide, ceramic bowl. "I am the one who should thank you all for enduring my cooking! It's not something I have had much practice at."

"Oh you cook just fine," the other woman said as she walked to the front door. "It's hardly every day we have such a feast! Most days it's just polenta, or cornbread and beans. You have no idea how hard it is to find new ways to cook beans!"

"The Khajiit cook them in a pressure cooker, then fry them, mash them up into a paste, and put them in their wraps with lettuce, onions, peppers, and cheese. Or just eat it plain in a bowl." Teresa poured the sauce from its pot and into a gravy boat. "It's wonderful. There's a street vendor in the Market District who makes it."

"You'll have to show me how they do it," Julia smiled as she reached for the door. "But we can't afford something expensive like a pressure cooker."

"Well I can bring ours from the guild," Teresa said as she lifted the crab from the pot and set it on a platter. "I am sure Pappy won't notice if we only use it for one night."

"Dinner's ready," Julia said, poking her head out the door. "Are you all cleaned up? No one sets foot in this house until you are."

"Yes mum." A male voice came from outside. "All except for my mind of course!"

The author of the sound entered the house a moment later. A Nibenean like Julia, his short hair was black as night, and the skin on his muscular body was a soft olive shade. He wrapped the woman in his arms and lifted her in the air, spinning the two of them around in place. Julia giggled as he set her down, only to kiss her so deeply that Teresa looked away in embarrassment.

"Marcus! If you keep that up we'll have a fifth child, and I am not going to be the one changing its bottom!"

Teresa smiled faintly at the other woman's joke, and carried the platter of crabs to the table.

"Good, the more little scribs the better I always say!" Marcus laughed as the two boys tottered over to him on unsteady feet. Lifting both in his arms, he laughed once more. "And how are my princes today? Have you been good for your mum?"

Teresa did not hear the rest as Decimus entered, followed by young Quintis and Poppea. The six-year olds were squabbling over something she could not quite catch, except that it had something to do with Quintis making faces.

So this was what it was like to have a family, Teresa thought to herself as they sat at the table and began filling their plates with the steaming crab and fried rice. Marcus sat with one of the twins on his lap, and Julia did likewise with the other. Almost as soon as they were seated the two-year olds began grabbing for food, and their parents were obliged to pull their hands away.

"You know we always say grace first," Julia scolded.

"Since we have a guest, I think she should do the honors," her husband suggested from across the table.

Teresa felt her heart beat faster in her chest. Say grace? She had never done that in her life. Yet as the others around the table put their hands together and bowed their heads, she could see no way to get out of it.

"Blessed Mara," she began, hunting for words, "we thank you for all that you have given us."

"Now let's eat!" Marcus declared, lifting a spoon of rice to the mouth of the two-year old in his lap.

"This is delicious," Decimus remarked after taking his first bite of the succulent crab. "The sauce is really good. Spicy."

"I use Argonian seasonings that really bring out the flavor." Teresa stared down at her plate while a familiar sensation of warmth spread through her cheeks.

"You really shouldn't have bought something like this though," Decimus said. "We're farmers. We're used to living simple."

"The rice is from the guild. We get it by the sack from Leyawiin, so we have plenty. Pappy uses it to make soju in the alchemy workshop," Teresa said. "I didn't buy the crab though. I shot it this afternoon."

"See, she is a hunter!" Quintis declared from around a mouthful of rice and vegetables, staring at his sister. "I told you!"

"Only crabs and fish," Teresa breathed as Poppea made a face at her brother.

"Why not other animals?" Decimus asked.

"Because other animals have feelings," Teresa said. "They feel love, they play, they have families, some even work. They're really not much different from us."

"You sound like a priestess," Marcus said after taking a swallow of milk from the stone cup before him.

"Oh listen to you! How long have we had that cow? The one you wouldn't sell last year even though old man Gabinius offered you a good ten drakes more than she is worth?" Julia turned from her husband to Teresa. "I think it's wonderful you have such principles. Granted, we're vegetarians most of the time anyway. It's not like a farmer sees meat very often! But you should try some of our eggs next time. The hens lay even without a rooster. So the eggs don't have a baby chicken in them. It's all white and yolk. I use them to make noodles with, along with the winter wheat."

Teresa thought about that. It would not be hurting an animal. In fact, it sounded just like eating cheese or milk. That meant she could learn to start making more than just cold somen noodles, that did not have egg in them. The idea gave her a faint smile.

"Hey, that cow gives the best milk in the Nibenay Valley!" Marcus laughed while Teresa considered the possibilities of eggs. "Besides, she was your dowry. Your father would kill me if I got rid of her!"

"Damn right I would!" the old man exclaimed, "then I'd be back to working the fields in your place. With the fall harvest just a few weeks away no less!"

"So you can see it is to everyone's advantage," Julia smiled at Teresa as she took a bite of the fried rice. "You really do cook well. I'd never guess you were a beginner."

Teresa looked down to her plate, feeling her cheeks once again turn warm from the praise. "Well I have a good teacher," she finally said, "and very kind subjects to experiment on."

"I still can't believe your guild commander taught you how to cook!" Marcus shook his head. "But this is damn good. If I wasn't married already, I'd be tempted to make you an offer!"

"Marcus! are you saying you only married me because of my cooking!" Julia laughed, and tossed a finger's worth of fried rice at her husband. He tried to catch it in his opened mouth, and failed miserably. Instead the clump of vegetables rolled down the chest of the toddler in his arms, who scooped it up in both hands and gobbled it down. "I thought I was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen!"

"He'd be a damn fool if he married you for that," Decimus asserted. "No man should marry a woman who can't take care of her household, no matter how she looks."

"Well thankfully you are beautiful and a good cook," Teresa found herself saying, laying a warm hand on that of Julia beside her.

"Thank Mara yes." Marcus said, now looking serious as he stared across the table at his wife. "Julia is the best thing that ever happened to me."

Now it was the Nibenean woman's turn to blush and look down awkwardly at her plate.

"So what about you Teresa," Decimus asked, cutting through the silence that had developed around the table. "Is there a husband in your future yet?"

"Umm, no," Teresa said, poking at the food on her plate. And there never will be, she thought. Not a husband at least. The image of Tadrose Helas came to her mind, eyes blazing like the fires of Red Mountain, and she could not contain the sigh that escaped her lips.

"Oh don't worry Teresa," Julia said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I am sure Mara will bless you with a good man one day."

"So I saw there is a house that is empty in the village," Teresa said to steer the conversation from her love life, or lack thereof. "Did someone leave?"

"No, that is mine," Decimus frowned. "At least for now."

"For now?" Teresa asked, wondering what jar of snakes she had opened up with her question.

"Well, until I die at least," the old man grumbled. "And at my age, it won't be much longer before I go to join my beloved Fausta in Arkay's halls."

"Oh don't talk like that old man!" Marcus declared. "You're tougher than an Elsweyr mule. There's plenty of years left in you."

"So won't Julia inherit your farm when you are gone?" Teresa asked, turning from the old man to the woman beside her. "A long time from now I am sure."

"No," Julia answered.

"My brother Collinsus will inherit it all," the old man said. "He is my nearest male relative. Damn vagabond and wastrel that he is, he'll sell it to cover his gambling and drinking debts. Twenty years I spent working my fingers to the bone on corn, beans, and squash, and he'll just piss it all away. Not that anyone's likely to buy it anyhow."

"What do you mean?" Teresa furrowed her brows in confusion.

"Teresa, surely you have noticed that Bravil is not the most prosperous county in Cyrodiil." Julia explained. "The land is good enough to be sure, but the city…. Well, people all want to live by the Imperial City, or Cheydinhal, or Chorrol. Not out here in the backwoods."

"I think it's wonderful here," Teresa said honestly. "But why did you come here if you'd rather be somewhere else?"

"The silver," Decimus explained. "When they discovered it up the Larsius fifty years ago, a lot of us came here to work the mines. Bravil was just a little town back then, only on one of the islands in the river delta instead of all three, and with plenty of room to spare. The whole city sprang up overnight with the silver. It was something to see."

"So what happened?" Teresa asked.

"The silver played out," Decimus breathed sourly. "Except for a few mines here and there, it's all gone. Never was as much as people first thought I guess. When it went, so did everything else. But I'd met my Fausta here in Silverbridge already. So I went to the Temple of Zenithar and took out a loan to buy a place, and settled down as a farmer. Four thousand drakes. Took me ten years to pay it off. Now it'll all go in that good-for-nothing Collinsus' pocket…"

"So why not just sell the house?" Teresa asked. "Then you could put the money into a trust for your grandchildren."

"Who would buy it?" Marcus said. "Not many people want to come down here anymore. Most ships just sail right past, or anchor in the bay instead of putting into port. We've got his drunkenness the Count swimming in a wine barrel all day, and his son in a fetching skooma jar. They say the Renrijra Krin run the stuff across the border here, and to top it off I've heard of trolls in the woods lately."

"Well someone might want it," Teresa said sheepishly. "Not everyone cares about things like that."

"Well you should buy it then," Marcus declared with a wink. "Then we could have feasts like this every night!"

"Maybe I should," Teresa breathed, looking from him to Julia's father. "Maybe I should…"

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 21 2011, 10:39 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Yay, new stuff!

Not that it wasn't fun seeing the old stuff again, only renewed (like the landscape in the spring). But nothing's like forging new territory!

This was a great interlude and a wonderful introduction to family life. The kids were wonderfully cute in their rugrat ways (and made me glad I'm not Julia!).

So far the tale doesn't ring a bell, but then, I've read so much stuff over the years I could simply not be remembering it. I'll keep reading and see if it comes to me.

The conversation was well done from beginning to end, even when introducing additional characters into the dialogue. Seems to me you're getting more comfortable with this sort of thing. Well done!

I did catch a couple of nits:

An identical boy crawled along the threadbare carpet nearby, with a horse caved from wood in his hand.

The horse is all caved in? I believe the 'r' ran off on you.

Pappy uses I to make soju in the alchemy workshop," Teresa said.

Pappy uses Teresa to make soju? Somehow I'm sure you meant rice, not our shy redheaded Bosmer!

[ghastley]

Well, I managed to find a missing word in the first sentence.

... scallions, celery, and mushrooms in {a} thin layer of olive oil.

But then the story took over and I was reading what you wrote, not how you did it.

[Acadian]

I really did a double take to make sure I was reading correctly. Teresa cooking? What a delightful new skill for her! Oh, and thanks for providing such a scrumptious meal!

As I have said before, you have a wonderful management of multiple folks engaged in dialogue. Very natural and flowing.

I chuckled over Teresa's awkwardness when a request to say grace was sprung upon her. With Mara's help, she did wonderfully.

Wonderful history surrounding how Silverbridge fits into Bravil's past and present. I'll lay odds on Teresa getting a house well before getting a husband.

Nits:
'She set down the metal tongs she had been using the stir the mudcrab that boiled merrily within the pot,'
I would replace the bolded word with 'to'.

"Well I can bring ours from the guild," Teresa said she lifted the crab from the pot and set it on a platter.'
I think you want 'as' in between the bolded words.

"And how are my princes today? Have you been good for you mum?"
Replace the bolded word with 'your'?

[Thomas Kaira]

Delightful dinner. Nothing wrong with crab and fried rice!

I loved how you constructed Bravil's past. Remind me to steal it.

More Argonian seasoning? Bah, you Bravilians put it in everything!


Not a nit, but an observation of experience. You are under no obligation to change this, and I would also suggest you don't as not many people know this.

Afterward she turned her attention to the pot of brown sauce that sat next to the rice, and did the same.

You don't want to stir sauce once it comes to a simmer, it knocks the heat from the liquid and as a result takes longer to cook. So long as you maintain a gentle simmer, the sauce will not burn at all. Ever.

[Grits]

I think I hid the answer properly --> Pride & Prejudice!! Collinsus!

What a beautiful scene around the table with a very different family this time. That fried rice sounds delicious, and it reminded me that I forgot to eat my own dinner. A possible new home for Teresa, how exciting! A farm is a great place to grow alchemey ingredients.

I got such a nice warm feeling reading this!!

[Jacki Dice]

"I think they are wonderful Julia," Teresa breathed. "You are so lucky to have such beautiful children."

"Hah!" the other woman laughed. "You should try training them to use the chamber pot! Or cleaning up after them when they miss."

Awww its so true! I love babies, even when they're messy ♥

"The Khajiit cook them in a pressure cooker, then fry them, mash them up into a paste, and put them in their wraps with lettuce, onions, peppers, and cheese. Or just eat it plain in a bowl." Teresa poured the sauce from its pot and into a gravy boat. "It's wonderful. There's a street vendor in the Market District who makes it."

Is that how they're made? I've always wondered as they've become a recent hit in our family

He wrapped the woman in his arms and lifted her in the air, spinning the two of them around in place. Julia giggled as he set her down, only to kiss her so deeply that Teresa looked away in embarrassment.

"Marcus! If you keep that up we'll have a fifth child, and I am not going to be one changing its bottom!"

"You know we always say grace first," Julia scolded.

"Since we have a guest, I think she should do the honors," her husband suggested from across the table.

Teresa felt her heart beat faster in her chest. Say grace? She had never done that in her life.

Well, she managed to do a good job with it. Best part about grace is that it doesn't have to be a great sermon, just a simple thanks.

"Why not other animals?" Decimus asked.

"Because other animals have feelings," Teresa said. "They feel love, they play, they have families, some even work. They're really not much different from us."

Exactly.

"Thank Mara yes." Marcus said, now looking serious as he stared across the table at his wife. "Julia is the best thing that ever happened to me."

Now it was the Nibenean woman's turn to blush and look down awkwardly at her plate.

Awwww! ♥

"Well you should buy it then," Marcus declared with a wink. "Then we could have feasts like this every night!"

"Maybe I should," Teresa breathed, looking from him to Julia's father. "Maybe I should…"

Could it be?? The home she wanted for Simplicia

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Mar 3 2011, 06:51 AM

[Olen]

Hmmm, sounds tasty. I also noticed that you've added eggs to her diet, always a good thing. I also sense that she might have found somewhere for Simplicia to retire...

It was interesting to see her in such a family environment, I suppose it will be a new thing for her, though she seems to be fitting in fine. I do rather wonder how it came about though.

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: Maybe the soju comes from what Teresa does on the chamber pot?


ghastley: Looks like a hungry farmer ate that a. Thank you for rustling up a new one.


Acadian: Teresa is going to have to learn to cook, if she is going to be living in a house in the country someday. There are no hot food stands out there after all. Hence her decision to learn. I also lay odds on her acquiring that house before a husband!


Thomas Kaira: Why do you think that named that stuff after Niben Bay? It is great on everything!

Thank you for the simmering observation. I was able to use it to go back and add in a little something about it.


Grits: You got it! P&P all the way. Look for more Jane Austen references in the future.


Jacki Dice: I love other people's kids. I doubt I could handle it if I had to raise them round the clock though! My cat is a handful as it is!

It does indeed look like Teresa found the perfect house to buy for Simplicia!


Olen: Teresa's dinner is all an outgrowth of the relationship she began with Decimus and the two kids way back at the beginning of chapter 25, when she first came to Silverbridge.


Next: In our previous episode, Teresa made a nice dinner in Silverbridge, and learned that Decimus' old house might be for sale. Next we return to Bravil a day later, where Teresa is thinking about making another meal.


Chapter 31.2 - Inheritance


"So, who wants to stay for dinner tonight?" Teresa asked from the doorway of the guild house's sitting room.

The common area sat just off the vestibule, and had a wide window looking out onto the street in front of the building. The room was lit by glowstones set into wall sconces, and was furnished with tables of polished oak, stuffed couches, and padded chairs. A small bookcase rose along one wall, and a fireplace with an elegant marble mantle dominated another. Vincent and Chance sat at a small, round table playing cards. Ancondil lounged in a chair, picking at his lute and looking down at a sheet of music laid out on the low table before him. Last of all Tadrose sat alone along a wide couch by the window, engrossed in a book.

"Pappy is showing me how to make stuffed cabbage," Teresa continued.

"More grazing?" Vincent rolled his eyes from behind the cards he held. "No thanks."

"I'm seeing someone over at Silverhome On The Water," Chance declared, then laid down his cards. "Full castle, Queens over twos!" The Breton sitting across from him dropped his cards in disgust, and the Redguard pulled the pot of copper remans across the table, to join the small pile already in front of him.

"Well I should be delighted to partake." Ancondil looked up from his lute to smile at Teresa. Then he dropped his head back to his sheet music, and plucked away at the lute once more.

"How about you Tadrose?" Teresa stepped over to the dark elf, who looked up with surprise as the forester approached.

"I am sorry Teresa, I was a bit caught up." The Dunmer smith set the book down into her lap and gazed up at Teresa with a smile. "Of course I will stay for dinner."

"So what is that you are reading?" Teresa asked, turning her head so that she could see the book's title better.

"Persuasion," the dark elf declared, "By Juno Austenius."

"Oh that is playing at The Globe, isn't it?" Teresa thought out loud. Then before she knew it, her tongue ran away with itself. "Why don't we go see it tonight after dinner?"

Teresa instantly bit her lip, wishing she had not said a word. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Ancondil looking at her with a barely concealed grin. Thank Aetherius the other two men were too occupied with their card game to notice, Teresa thought, else Vincent would probably start hooting.

"I think that would be wonderful." Tadrose smiled, and the wood elf felt her heart leap higher than Magnus overhead. "I did not know you enjoyed Juno Austenius?"

"Of course!" Teresa said quickly, sitting beside Tadrose and setting her wineglass on a nearby table. "Who doesn't? I've seen all her plays." She saw Ancondil shaking his head with lips tightly pursed, and knew she had put her foot in her mouth.

"She was a novelist my dear," Tadrose whispered, too low for anyone else to hear. "People only starting adapting her work for the theater a century ago."

"Oh," Teresa looked down at her lap, certain that her face was redder than a boiled lobster. Then she felt Tadrose's hand touch her own. Looking up, she saw a crooked smile playing across the other woman's features, and her eyes glowing like Masser on a clear night.

"Would you like me to read you some?" Tadrose said. "I think you will enjoy it. It is all terribly romantic, but has a sense of ironic humor most people do not expect."

"Oh no!" Vincent groaned from across the room. "Let's get out of here before they start knitting doilies!"

"Oh come now!" Ancondil finally did speak once more. "Juno Austenius is one of the most beloved Imperial writers to have ever lived. It has been four centuries since she died, and her works are still counted among the finest literature Cyrodiil has ever produced."

"I don't know the first thing about literature," Chance grinned, "but I saw that play the other night with Eutropia from castle. I tell you what, it made her wetter than the Niben!"

"Did someone say wet?"

Teresa looked up with the others as the sound of the husky voice. Standing in the doorway leading to the vestibule was an Argonian with light red scales on his face, except for two small slices of green that rose from either side of his nostrils. He wore a dark green tunic over a pair of trousers, and a gently curved sword hung at his hip. The grip was wrapped in crisscrossing patterns of cloth, and the pommel was engraved with the snarling face of an eastern dragon.

Screenshot

"Storm-Tail!" Tadrose exclaimed, rising to her feet with a smile. "When did you get to Bravil? I thought you were at school in the Imperial City?"

"This one has left the academy of numbers," the Argonian - whom Teresa could tell was young from the bright shade of his scales - shifted uncomfortably. "He has come to see Commander Vitellus."

Teresa wondered who the Argonian was. Tadrose obviously knew him, but the other fighters all had stares as blank as her own. So clearly they did not know him either. Turning her gaze back to Tadrose, the forester saw that her eyes fell to the sword at the Argonian's hip, before rising once more to his face. Her eyes widened for a moment, before a dark look clouded her features.

"Oh no, you are not going to join the guild!" she declared.

"This one has reached the age of majority," the Argonian - Storm-Tail - insisted. "He may do as he wills."

"Does your mother know you are here?" Tadrose's hands fell to her hips, and Teresa was glad she was not in the Argonian's scales. "Have you told her about this? Have you thought about what this will do to her?"

"This one has a duty to his father's memory." The Argonian swallowed hard, and his tail twitched nervously. Yet his orange eyes did not falter under Tadrose's burning stare. "This one must follow where the father has led."

"Where he has led?" Tadrose fumed. "Do you want to see where it led? Go to Bruma, look at the graves! Is that what you want?"

"Storm-Tail will speak with Commander Vitellus," the Argonian insisted once more. Teresa admired his determination. She was not sure if she could stand up to Tadrose's fury, even as carefully leashed as it was now.

The Dunmer opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Shaking her head, she swept from the room and beckoned for the Argonian to follow.

"So what was that all about?" Chance muttered. "I thought she was going to strangle him."

Teresa shrugged her shoulders, and Ancondil did the same. But it was Vincent who spoke next.

"I think I know," the Breton said quietly. "I've never met him before, but I've heard his name a few times. He's the son of one of the old guild members: Morning-Star. That was his father's sword he was wearing. I saw it once before, at Bruma."

Teresa felt the glowstone ignite in her mind. Bruma, she thought, Storm-Tail's father had died there. Now the son was following in his footsteps. No wonder Tadrose had been so exasperated.

"The shadow of your father can be a hard thing to escape," Ancondil murmured. "A hard thing indeed."

Teresa blinked, and saw Chance nodding in unison. "What are you talking about?" she breathed. "Can you imagine how his mother feels? First her husband dies, and now her son is queuing up to be next?"

Mara, what did Simplicia think? Teresa thought. Wasn't she doing the same?

"You don't know what it's like to be overshadowed by a father," Chance offered up, and Teresa wondered if his voice sounded hoarse, as if his throat were choking on the words. "Sometimes it's almost like you have to fight him, just to be a man in your own right."

'I never had any trouble like that," Vincent offered. "My father's a fisherman, and with three other sons, he's glad one of us found a trade on dry land. Granted my mum's not too happy about it all. But mothers always worry about everything."

"What about you?" Chance looked Teresa in the eye. "What does your mother think about you being in the guild. You said you're doing all this for her, didn't you?"

"It's complicated..." Teresa stared down at the wineglass in her hands. Gods, what a hypocrite they must all think she was!

"Complicated does not begin to explain it all, I am afraid," Ancondil said. "It is not an easy thing to make your own way in the world, especially when your parents have your entire life all planned out before you are six. To walk a different road can be hard indeed. Yet I do not imagine it is any easier when the position is reversed. Can any of us imagine what it would like having a son or daughter in this business? Knowing that they are placing themselves in danger with every contract, and able to do nothing but sit by and pray for their well-being?"

"Yeah, my mother and I argued before I left Sentinel," Chance breathed, his eyes looking hollow. "I said some things I shouldn't have. But I just couldn't stay there any more, not after… Anyway, my father's somewhere here in Cyrodiil. And someday I'm going to find him."

"Really?" Vincent asked. "I thought your parents were both in Hammerfell?"

"No," the Redguard said. "My father had to leave years ago. Every now and then he sends a letter to let us know he is alive. The last one came a few months ago. He said he'd joined up with a band of outlaws, and they were camped out in some ruin called Vilverin. Wherever in Oblivion that is."

The glass fell from Teresa's numb fingers and shattered on the hardwood floor, spraying its red contents across the boards.

"You didn't say Vilverin?" she breathed. She knew that her eyes must be as wide as saucers, and she felt her heart racing like a Quarter Horse. No, it couldn't be, she thought. Chance's father couldn't be one of the bandits she found there. Could he?

"Yes," the Redguard leaped to his feet and was across the room in a flash. "What do you know about it? You've been there, haven't you?"

Teresa nodded and bit her lip as she stared down at red pool of wine that stained the floor. How on Nirn was she going to tell him what she had found in Vilverin? How could anyone tell someone that their father was dead?

"His name's Destri," the Redguard continued. "Did you see him?"

With that something Morcant had once said floated up from the depths of memory. "His name was Destri," the Witch had said. "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."

"What did he look like?" Teresa asked, trying to stall for time while she gathered her thoughts. It had been Chance's father that had made the armor Morcant had traded to her. The same armor that had saved her life in the Jensine's shop at the end of the Oblivion Crisis! By Raven, she thought, this was just too much to be pure coincidence!

"Well, he looks like me," Chance said. "Older of course. He's almost forty now. He always had a beard that he kept trimmed real close, in a goatee, and he kept his hair cropped down short. So he's probably the same now. He has a Dwemer mace, it's been in the family since the days of Cyrus. There's a name written on it in elvish - Ncharcasti - although I'll be damned if I know what it means."

A Dwemer mace, Teresa thought. The male bandit she had found near Lake Rumare had carried a Dwemer mace. That same mace had been in Jensine's hand during the Crisis. The Nord had used it on the scamp that had clawed her legs, and the clannfear that had nearly eaten her.

"Chance, if your father was with a group of outlaws, and Teresa met him…" Ancondil said quietly. "Well, you know that could not have turned out well."

"No, I'm not the one who-" Teresa gasped and looked up at both men before her. "I mean I… I found him, and the others."

"What happened!" Chance leaned down and grabbed Teresa by the arms. His voice was raw, and filled with desperation. "What happened to my father!"

"I'm sorry Chance." Teresa looked down again. "It was over before I got there. There was nothing I could do."

"No!" Chance shouted. He shook Teresa, and she wished she had never opened her mouth. Better if he had never known, she imagined, never had to face this. "My father is not dead, do you hear me!"

"That's enough Chance." Ancondil's voice was iron, and with that the Redguard's grip fell away. Teresa looked back up to see that the muscle-bound orc now stood between her and the Redguard, his hands braced on the other man's shoulders. "Just take a moment to collect yourself."

"Take a moment!" the young human raged. He strained against Ancondil, but the larger Orisimer was a rock. "This is my father!"

Teresa rose to her feet, thinking of the Emperor. He had faced his own death without flinching. She could at least give Chance the news of his father's end with the same resolve. Stepping to Ancondil, she moved him aside with a simple touch, and stood before Chance.

"I first saw Vilverin the night the Emperor died." The Redguard's eyes looked like those of a caged animal as Teresa stared into them. "Even then, I knew that something was waiting for me there. So I went back about a week into Midyear. I found all the bandits dead. There was one by the lake, he was a Redguard, with a beard, and he had a Dwemer mace. It was the only Dwemer mace I found in the ruin."

"It was a necromancer that did it," she continued. "A Redguard named Jalbert. I tried to kill him, but he got away. A few days later I met a Witch who knew one of the bandits. She had cured him of a disease in trade for a suit of armor that he'd made. That same armor saved my life during the Crisis. She said his name was Destri."

"Take me there," Chance said resolutely. "I need to see it."

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Mar 5 2011, 05:06 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Talk about coming full circle! Now we go way back to the beginning? And so the subtle strands of fate begin to weave together in a more subtle tapestry.

Delightful, and compelling. I want to see more of this!

[Acadian]

I agree with Rider about the full circle!

"Full castle, Queens over twos!"
How much more 'TESier' this sounds than full house.

Oh, I've been meaning to say for some time now how much I enjoy the way your write Ancondil's speech. I'm sure it must be easier to do than Aia's, but it perfectly suits him and you are very consistent with it.

'Then before she knew it, her tongue ran away with itself. "Why don't we go see it tonight after dinner?"
Heh, this is such a perfect 'Teresa' moment. She can be quite adorable!

[ghastley]

You've certainly opened a lot of new ways for this to go next. Storm-Tail, Chance, both pulling in different directions from where Teresa thought she was heading.

Eagerly awaiting the next episode to find out which one it will be.

[Winter Wolf]

I finally made it! Hopeless I am

Very interesting direction you have taken the story. Cooking and lutes and cards and all things domesticated! Teresa was never one that I would have picked, so it just goes to show that their is so much more going on beneath our little sewer waif. Awesome writing.

A Dwemer mace, Teresa thought. The male bandit she had found near Lake Rumare had carried a Dwemer mace. That same mace had been in Jensine's hand during the Crisis. The Nord had used it on the scamp that had clawed her legs, and the clannfear that had nearly eaten her.
I really enjoyed this. Tumbling...tumbling....down the rabbithole!

[Olen]

Well that was quite a part. The first bit with her asking Tadrose to the play was hilarious.

"Who doesn't? I've seen all her plays."

A common enough blunder. Though on the other hand it does rather confrim to Tadrose that Teresa's interested... Asking someone if they want to go somewhere is a rather different thing than then pretending to like what they like, and it seems Tadrose knows this.

"Let's get out of here before they start knitting doilies!"

I loved that line.

Then the much darker second part, though at least she didn't kill him. There's too much there to be coincidence, probably, it makes me wonder what part Chance has to play, I hope a good bit because he's very different from the other characters. I think Jalbert might appear again too (in fact might this be another section of the story beginging?).

Storm-tail is a fun character too, he brings things home for Teresa, but even better he's an argonain! Sounds like he had a lucky escape giving up on the academy of numbers too.

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: Ever since I wrote The Witch of Lake Trasimene and borrowed Destri's name, I have been waiting for this part to reveal that he was Chance's father. I just wish our own Destri was around these days to see just what I was doing with him!


Acadian: I was looking for a way to make poker seem more ES, so the full castle just seemed perfect. For the most part I get Ancondil's speech from early 19th century pieces, like Jane Austen's work. Basically he speaks like Darcy would (albeit without jumping into a pond first!).


Sir Graves ghastley: Unfortunately for Teresa that way will not be toward an evening with Tadrose!


Winter Wolf: Wolfie! Welcome back! Down the rabbithole indeed. Just as with the Oblivion Crisis, Teresa is seeing that her life is inexorably bound up with those of certain others.


Olen: I had a lot of fun writing Teresa pretending to know Juno Austenius and asking Tadrose out! You are right, Tadrose does indeed seem to appreciate the attention.

I had to work on the doilie line. At first I wanted Vincent to say something like "Chick Alert!" then go into the part about knitting. But I just could not make it sound setting-friendly. So in the end I had to drop the first part. I am glad it still works though!

Storm-Tail is another of those characters whom I set up way back, in this case in The Battle of Bruma, where we met his father Morning-Star.


Next: Teresa met a new member of the FG last chapter, and learned that Chance's father may have been one of the bandits she found at Vilverin. Next she sets sail up the Niben to find out if it is true.


Chapter 31.3 - Inheritance

Well, so much for the play, Teresa thought glumly, or her chance to make stuffed cabbage.

She stared at the waves that surrounded the small boat in which she sat. A coast filled with farmland and occasional fishing villages rose to the left, but to the right the glassy surface of Niben Bay went on forever. Chance sat before her at the prow of the sixteen foot dory in which they rode, while Aleron Loche was behind her at the tiller.

A sprit-rigged sail caught the wind above them, pulling the small craft to the north. Now that she was finally sitting in a dory, Teresa had a better view of the uneven, four-cornered sail that powered it. It looked like a malformed triangle, with an extra line in the front where the mast was. She could see that a spar ran up at a diagonal from the lower end of the mast. The head of the sail angled up from the top of the mast to join the tip of this spar, then gracefully swept down to the boat below. The bottom of the sail hung loose, with no boom at all to secure it.

At least that meant they did not have to worry about it swinging around and knocking them in the head, Teresa mused.

Screenshot

"I still think you're crazy for wanting to leave now," Aleron said. "It'll be dark in a few hours, we should wait until morning."

"The galleons sail through the river at night," Chance rumbled from the prow. "You can too."

"They have enough crew to man them around the clock," the pudgy Breton grumbled. "I have to sleep sometime. Besides, I can't see in the dark. This trip will be real quick if we run into rocks and rip out the hull!"

"You can wear my goggles," Teresa offered, digging them from her pack and handing them to the Breton. "They have a night eye enchantment."

The fisherman mumbled something about debts under his breath. He obviously had places he'd rather be. Teresa sympathized. She would rather have spent the evening with Tadrose than in a cramped boat with two men.

Since she already had her pack open, she drew forth a round loaf of bread and broke off a piece. Dipping it in a small jar of olive oil, she offered it to Aleron, then gave another piece to Chance, and finally took one for herself. They ate in silence, and the boat made its way north.

Teresa stared at the shore, watching the villages go by as they sailed on. It had been a nearly solid line of settlements and cultivated land just outside of Bravil. But as the hours slipped away, the villages thinned out, giving way to wider and wider patches of wilderness between them. By the time night was closing in the farms had disappeared altogether, and only the occasional fishing village rose from the shore.

Just like outside of Cheydinhal and Chorrol, Teresa mused. All the farms were nestled close to the protection of the city.

On they went through the darkness, and Teresa could understand Aleron's misgivings. With only the light of the stars above, the water had become a sheet of black satin. The shore had disappeared into the murk, and was now just a memory. It might be ten feet away for all the wood elf knew. Or it could be a mile distant. She had no idea either way.

Well at least Aleron could see with the goggles, Teresa mused as she spared a glance at the flabby Breton. She remembered her first day at the Fighters Guild. Tadrose had said that she had no idea how the Breton had been paying for his sword lessons. Now she knew. Pappy had made an arrangement with him to sail guild members around the Niben. Teresa wondered how many of their contracts and training sessions were like that? Not for money, but rather bartered for services in return.

Masser and Secunda were high in the sky by the time they pulled into shore and made a hasty camp. The dory which they sailed within was so small that Aleron had no need for a dock. He simply pulled the boat up onto the strand, and they rolled out their bedrolls beside it.

The fisherman was asleep and snoring within minutes. Chance fidgeted, and since he was clearly not going to be sleeping any time soon, Teresa suggested that he take the first watch. While he paced about the boat, she sat with her back against the hull of the dory.

She dug her hands into the loam beneath her and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply in and out, she journeyed to her Astral Temple. There she called upon the spirits of the land to show her the history of the place in which she sat. Thanks to them, she saw that they were now on the Upper Niben River, rather than in the bay. Other than that there was nothing unusual to see. The river flowed by and the trees swayed in the breeze. The winter snows came, followed by spring flowers, over and over again. Occasionally a ship sailed past. Life went on quietly in the wild.

Teresa woke as the sun inched over the horizon, to find Chance still pacing along the shore. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she yawned and stretched.

"You were supposed to wake me up for my turn on watch," she said as she rose to her feet.

"I figured I'd just let you sleep," the Redguard said. "I'd be up anyway."

Teresa nodded. How would she feel if someone had told her that Simplicia was dead? She probably would not be able to rest until she knew for certain if it was true or false.

"So what was your father like?" she said. She wanted to ask how he went from Hammerfell to being a bandit in Cyrodiil, but did not think it the best time to pry that deeply.

"He was the best father a kid could have," Chance said quietly, his face turned to the rising sun. "When I was little, he used to take me down to the ocean and we'd fish in the surf. We hardly ever caught anything, but I didn't care. He'd tell me stories about the old days in Yokuda, or the Ra'Gada, or how our ancestor Lakene fought alongside Cyrus himself. He was always full of stories. No surprise I guess, he was named after a Redguard historian after all: Destri Melarg."

"When I started to get older, he wasn't around as much. He was a warrior in King Lhotun's service, and got sent to Dak'Fron. It's this town in the desert, an important caravan stop. He still wrote to me and mother, in spite of how much it cost. We'd have just moved, but my mother runs a little tavern by the docks in Sentinel. It's not much, just a watering hole for locals, but she had to take out a loan to start it up. She's still paying it off, and will be for years."

By then Aleron was waking as well, and Chance became less talkative. They shared a cold breakfast of more bread, and then were off into the river again. The V-shaped hull of the dory rocked wildly as they started out. Teresa grabbed the gunwales, fearing the boat was going to tip over, but Aleron just laughed.

"These dories are all like that," he said. "She'll stiffen up once we're underway. Don't you worry, it takes a lot to sink one of these. You can even take 'em on the open ocean."

It did smooth out soon after. In no time at all the Breton had the strange-looking sail up into the wind, and they were cruising north once more. Teresa could see the eastern bank of the Niben in the distance, and imagined that the river had to be well over a mile in width. That must be why the big ocean-going ships could sail it, the wood elf imagined. There was no way one of those giants would go up a little river like the Larsius after all.

The morning passed quietly. Occasionally they passed isolated villages along the shore, and near them fishing boats like their own bobbed in the river. Magnus was at his highest when Teresa saw the white stones of an Arimer ruin on the eastern shore. Some of the broken columns rose from the waves itself, and many were covered in vines and moss. A small boat was pulled up to the riverbank, but there was no sign of anyone near it, or anywhere else around the ruin.

That must be Culotte, Teresa thought. She knew of no other Arimer site on the Upper Niben.

"Who's boat is that?" she asked Aleron, pointing toward her discovery.

"Don't know," the Breton shrugged. "Probably treasure hunters. Or it could be university mages. Maybe even smugglers. None of our business I say."

They sailed on, leaving Teresa to wonder who was visiting the ruin, or living there?

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Mar 7 2011, 02:49 AM

[haute ecole rider]

Loved the boat ride up the Upper Niben toward the Lake. Also enjoyed meeting Aleron here. Much better than in my fan fic! Here we get to see what he really could have been had he not played such a tragic part in game.

I liked that you included the sketch of a dory. It really helps to visualize the sailing ship as you describe it (though I already had a good mental visual just from your description alone).

I did see one nit:

"These dories are all like that," he said. "She'll stiffen up once were underway.

Seems to me your apostrophe became seasick and went overboard!

[ghastley]

I like how you make the whole place seem so much bigger than the game.

My only criticism is Chance's line:

"The galleons sail down the river at night," Chance rumbled from the prow. "You can too."

It reads like he's saying that they're going down the river too, but they're going up. Maybe just take "down" out?

This post has been edited by ghastley: Mar 6 2011, 07:04 PM

[Thomas Kaira]

O' Destri, where art thou? I've seen you lurking from time to time, but that's not the same. Why have you forsaken us, master Redguard?

I do hope this trip helps Chance find some closure.

It's always fun to go sailing... until your stomach decides to keelhaul itself. If anyone wishes to place a bet on who will be first, the window is open until the next chapter gets posted! Place your bets now, winner takes all, and I take all winners!