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

[haute ecole rider]

"Damnit Number Seven!" a man's voice rang out. "Move your lazy carcass!"

Another of the 'hee-haw' sounding brays answered the man, and Teresa could no longer keep her eyes closed. In the middle of the street before her stood a Breton with a snowy beard, and equally white strands of hair fell from beneath his wide-brimmed hat. He was dressed in worn buckskins. An unstrung longbow was slung over his shoulder, and a hand axe was tucked into his waist belt.

A brown mule with a white muzzle stood before the Breton. The animal was laden with numerous bags and packs, although he seemed oblivious to their weight. Still, no matter how the man tugged at his lead, the mule refused to budge an inch from where he stood in the road. Instead he seemed content to simply stare back at the old man, who threw his hat down in the street and began cursing a blue streak.

Mad Jack!! *looks around* Where's Adams and Ben?

And Potato Vodka on the Fourth of July!

As Teresa watched, the Colovian poured a clear liquid from the spigot of the still into a chipped redware cup. After taking a tentative sniff of the brew, he knocked back a mouthful. Then he turned and offered Teresa the cup.

"Try some of this," he said. "It'll put hair on your chest."

"I like my chest the way it is now." Teresa frowned. "What is that anyway? I thought you were making soju?"

"Naw, that Argonian rice syrup is too damn sweet," Pappy declared. "This is good old Wrothgarian vodka, just like the orcs make."

"That explains all the potatoes I saw down in the kitchen," Teresa said.

"Aye, I got them special from Orsinium, so I could get the taste right." Pappy drank another mouthful of the alcohol. Teresa noted that he winced ever so slightly as the liquid hit his tongue. "So don't you use them for dinner! You can make mashed potatoes from those spuds they grow in Chorrol."

If there is anyone who is cooler than Robert "Pappy Boyington" Conrad, it's Steve "Cooler King" McQueen! I adore this nod to my favorite movie of all time!

And 'way to go, Pappy! Offering to go with Teresa on an ingredient hunt might - just might - go a long way toward getting her back out in the forest where she belongs.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Sep 13 2011, 02:25 PM

[ghastley]

Denver Pyle had a monopoly on the "Old Mountain Man" parts for a while, so it was likely one of his, but I don't remember that particular mule, so I can't guess the series (Not the Clangers, although the era is right).

[Acadian]

Two very distinct scenes.

In the first, I felt for poor Teresa as the forest elf afraid to go into the forest sought a domesticated tree for comfort and even that eluded her. I also found Number Seven and Mad Jack delightfully recognizable and applaud you for adding touches of pure fun like that! It was a perfect distraction and touch of welcome humor. He is exactly the type of character one might expect to see wander into Bravil.

In the second scene, I was settling in for a fine bit of Pappy humor. In fact I could identify with drinking soju just south of the Korean DMZ. Then you delivered us a magnificent turn that elevates his character beyond anything you have done with him. He’s going to pass morning PT on to his XO and personally take Teresa into the forest. That man knows exactly what she needs and my heart swelled to see him really deliver here. Yay Pappy! I also think that her guild being low on alchemy supplies is the perfect catalyst to use to push her back into the woods. Now. . . I hope Teresa doesn’t spoil things by checking Pappy’s locker for ‘borrowed’ alchemy ingredients that have mysteriously disappeared? Nah. . . I’m sure it was just through normal guild usage.

[MyCat]

I'm old enough (I turn 58 on Friday), I did have a TV in the seventies, but I didn't watch it, so I'll just guess Grizzly Adams.

[Cardboard Box]

<fart type="old">
Yep, Number Seven was from Grizzly Adams all right. Back when you watched a teeny-weeny black and white picture on the screen... and liked it.
</fart>

[Destri Melarg]

Three chapters to comment on:

38.4

So I see you’ve even prettied up your Daenlin! (did that sound weird? ) It is strange to think that someone who looks barely old enough to have earned his first bow is a master with many years of experience. But then I have to remind myself that even your Daenlin might be several centuries old. Elves!

It did sound like he had been reading Zen and the Art of Archery. I find it amusing that Teresa, who has just experienced a conversation with a ghost, and who regularly experiences timeshifts and communion with her spirit guides, thinks that Sirya sounds like ‘mumbo-jumbo’! I am glad that Daenlin has the patience to see behind the words to the fear that fuels them. His gentle counsel is just what the healer ordered.

38.5

I appreciate Daenlin’s lecture on Bosmeri religious practices. Are your Tree Singers similar to the ones found in Guild Wars? No, I guess not. Considering the use of ‘hoka hey’ my guess is that you’ve adopted a more Native American feel to your Bosmer. That brings to mind a question: Do you think ‘hoka hey’ was the last thing that Custer heard at the Little Big Horn?!

I like Teresa’s justification for not wanting to shoot any ‘helpless’ creatures of the forest. Not because I think that she is right, but because she retains enough self-awareness to point out the hypocrisy in her own feelings. She may question the veracity of the path that she has chosen, but I think she revels in the danger excitement of it too much (well, except right now of course) to ever change.

*This isn’t a nit or a rant. It is more of an observation. I have to respectfully disagree with your treatment of the Green Pact. Could the fact that you find it so silly stem from judging it with a strictly earth-bound sensibility? Personally I am of the mind that it is the single most interesting and unique thing about the Bosmer, and discarding it entirely takes something away from the race as a whole IMHO. As I see it the Green Pact prohibits the use of wood or vegetation grown in Valenwood as building material, and it requires that the Valenwood Bosmer be strict carnivores. Even our earth-bound sensibilities acknowledge that carnivores occasionally eat plants as well. And our resident vet can speak upon this better than I, but strict carnivores still receive plant nutrients from eating the contents of the stomachs of their prey, which are, for the most part, herbivores. The Green Pact doesn’t place the Bosmer under the yoke of following it when dealing with wood or vegetation from any other region, so those choosing a more varied diet can always move elsewhere (though probably not to Elsweyr), and those looking to build can always import the needed materials. Furthermore, The Green Pact ties the Bosmer to their most important deity, Y’ffre, in a way that nothing else does.

I am just saying that I would have loved seeing Teresa placed into a situation in which she had to acknowledge the existence of this Bosmeri spiritual practice. Since she was born in Cyrodiil she would have as much to do with the Green Pact as the average Imperial, but it is a part of her nonetheless. Seeing how she embraces it, comes to grips with it, or shuns and abhors it would have made for some interesting chapters, especially since she could have acted as the surrogate to air your own feelings about the stupidity of the concept.*

Sorry, it was not my intention to debate this issue with you. Your changes to Bosmeri spirituality ground them to Valenwood as much (if not more) than Bethesda intended with the Green Pact. I’ll just go over there and stand quietly in the corner for awhile . . .

39.1

. . . Okay I’m back. Why do I get the feeling that we are going to see Grizzly Adams, er the Breton with the snowy beard and wide-brimmed hat, again? Maybe the reason that the tree didn’t answer Teresa is that it was afraid that she was trolling for her dinner!

Pappy chooses just the right time and just the right reason to push Teresa back into the forest. I am so glad that he is going to accompany her. Now all they need to do is run into a couple of trolls. After all, when you fall off the mule, er horse, the best thing to do is jump back on again!

<fart type="old">
Yep, Number Seven was from Grizzly Adams all right. Back when you watched a teeny-weeny black and white picture on the screen... and liked it.
</fart>

Yeah! That is when your view wasn’t compromised by standing off to the side with one foot in the air holding the wire hanger in one hand, and the tin foil in the other!

[SubRosa]

Grits: Push Teresa out in the woods? Would Pappy and Tadrose do that?


haute ecole rider: Got it! Grizzly Adams is one of my inspirations for writing Teresa. So when I was looking for an annoying distraction, Mad Jack and Number Seven just leapt onto the page. I have to confess though, that Pappy's vodka was not inspired by The Great Escape. I have not seen it in so long, I forgot that scene was even in the movie! To be honest, until recently I just assumed that all vodka was made from potatoes. I was surprised when I looked it up and found its also made from grains. That just doesn't seem right.


ghastley: Denver Pyle it is. I think he was Uncle Jessie in The Dukes of Hazzard too? My favorite Mountain Man is Brian Keith, from The Mountain Men. "Hmmm... been fearsome confused for a month or two, but I ain't never been lost!"


Acadian: I hope Teresa doesn't check Pappy's locker either! Or Tadrose's! It is nice to see how many people are jumping to the conclusion that either one or both of them have a hand in Teresa's need to go gather more ingredients. Not saying any of you are wrong mind you...


MyCat: Guessed right! I remember watching Grizzly Adams when I was little.


Cardboard Box: I had a little 13 inch black and white in my bedroom when I was young. I loved it! I used to stay up past my bedtime to watch Wild Wild West with the sound down way low so my parents could not hear it.


Destri Melarg: Oh, its not at all weird that you noted another man was pretty! Don't worry, I'll keep it on the down low though. I am glad his archery lesson sounded like zen archery. That is what I was aiming for. I just could not use the word "zen" because of the setting. It would be nice to see Mad Jack and Number Seven again wouldn't it? Maybe I can work them into a future chapter somehow.


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: In our last episode Teresa found that she cannot commune with the trees of Bravil like she can in the wilderness, because there are too many distractions. She also found that the guild is low on alchemy supplies, and Pappy suggested insisted they go ingredient hunting the next day. Next, we find Teresa waking up in the morning, and preparing for her sojourn into the forest.


Chapter 39.2 – Picking Flowers

Teresa rose from her bed and stripped off her night tunic and loincloth as the first rays of Magnus crept into her room. Naked, she stepped to her dressing table and stared at herself in the mirror. She was finally getting some of her body fat back, she mused, as the frame that stared back at her was no longer nothing but bone and whipcord. She still had miles to go before possessing curves like Nerussa however. As if that would ever happen!

Even if she had those curves however, they would be little comfort, given the lines of scars across her left shoulder. The troll had bit deep there, and Marz said she would carry its marks for the rest of her life. The same was true of the scar that marred her right breast, mute testimony to the city guard arrow that had nearly taken her life.

Teresa sighed. What would any woman ever see in her again?

A small, square bag of green velvet hung from one of the posts of her mirror by a silken cord. Lifting it by a finger, she dropped the bag around her neck, so the soft material lay over her heart. She instantly felt better, as if the bear fur contained within was a healing charm, rather than simple animal hair.

Next came her armor. As Tadrose had told her the first time she had donned it, with a little practice it went on quickly. It helped that most of the pieces could be kept together, and it only needed to be laced open or shut in a few places when taking it off or putting it on. Finally she took Ravenfeeder and its chitin gorytos and belted them around her waist. A glance down showed that the first pocket of its quiver held arrows with heavy swallowtail-shaped heads, while the second contained those with narrow pincushions.

Hopefully she would not need the weapon, and the trip into the forest would be uneventful. Just thinking about the trees brought the memory of the trolls to her mind. For the thousandth time, she could see them bursting from the undergrowth and racing down the road at her. All yellow-green fur, hooked claws, and fury. She remembered the stink of their breath and the rough bristles of their fur, pressing down upon her…

With an effort of will, she forced her thoughts away from the monsters, and instead regarded the unstrung recurve bow at her hip. Her thumb traced the horn along its inner side. A minotaur's horn, she knew. A monster little different from the trolls that had killed Marius. More intelligent for certain, being smart enough to use simple weapons. But perhaps that only made them more dangerous?

Did using Ravenfeeder make her a monster as well, like that minotaur? Did it not make her a killer, a force of destruction? Was that all there was to the trolls and minotaurs? Or did they go home to their mates and pups at the end of a hard day of killing people? The latter thought was so ridiculous that it almost did make Teresa smile faintly. Only almost however, as the memory of who those tolls had killed was never far from her mind.

The sound of footsteps in the hall outside pulled Teresa from her reverie. It was time for breakfast, she thought. Then she would go to the forest. Would she be ready for it?

Leaving her room, she made her way down the stairs with Storm-Tail in tow. A minute later she was seated in the dining room. As usual, Tadrose magically appeared beside her, resplendent in her golden armor of elven steel. Pappy himself entered a moment later. Rather than his normal panoply of legion plate and orcish scale, he was clad in leather armor and carried a small, round shield. The Nordic arming sword at his hip - with its bone grip and elaborately lobed pommel - was the same as ever though.

"So you two are going picking flowers eh?" Vincent said with a wink to Pappy and Teresa. "How romantic."

That brought laughter from Chance and Tavian and even smiles as faint as any of Teresa's own from Storm-Tail and Valerius. Ancondil remained composed, as ever, and Tadrose merely rolled her eyes as she munched on her olive-oil soaked bread. Teresa found herself doing the same as she took a swallow of milk.

"Sounds like someone's jealous," Pappy grinned. "What do you think Teresa? Maybe Vincent would like a little more sausage in his life?"

That brought guffaws from most of the others, including Vincent. The Breton made a show of clutching his heart and batting his eyelashes at the guild commander. He only stopped when the older man threw a handful of bread into his face. Evidently not one to let good food go to waste, Vincent popped the still-warm bread into his mouth and began to chew.

"The Lady Scaurus is giving a ball in the honor of the Emperor's birthday tonight," Valerius ventured in the silence that grew after the laughter died down. "Shall anyone else be attending?"

"I am looking forward to the engagement," Ancondil said. "I have found the lady to be most agreeable."

Teresa took a swallow of goat's milk and stared down at her bread. The Great Lady of Bravil had not invited her. Teresa expected no less. The wood elf knew that she was not a patrician like Valerius, or even of the equite class such as Pappy or Ancondil. She was just a landless mercenary, a prole from the streets. A high-born lady like Metella Scaurus could not mix with one so far beneath her station as Teresa was. The tournament had been an exception, because she had made the finals. The wood elf imagined it would have been embarrassing for the lady if not a single archer from the competition had been there for her ball in its honor!

"So will you return in time for the ball tonight Gaius?" Tadrose asked from beside Teresa.

"Not if I can help it," Pappy murmured. "Those things are stiffer than a legate's backbone. You can represent the guild in my place, if you want."

"I have work to do in the forge," Tadrose said quickly.

"The Courier says that Sulesa's fighting Morghak today, in honor of the Emperor's Birthday," Chance said around a mouthful of bread. "I bet the Arena's going to be sold out."

"Aye, that'd be a fight to see," Vincent agreed. "Too bad we're stuck down here."

"You kids aren't missing a thing," Pappy insisted. "There's plenty of action here in Bravil."

"Aye, and it usually has dark hair and wears skirts!" Chance grinned.

Breakfast ended shortly after, and they all broke up and filed into the main hallway that bisected the ground floor. Teresa and Pappy made their way along it the front of the guild hall and Silver Avenue outside. The others trailed out in the opposite direction, to the practice yard behind the building.

The city was slowly coming alive as the two fighters walked along its main street to the North Gate. There Teresa noted more city guardsmen than normal, and likewise at the end of the bridge that spanned the Larsius. Even though Magnus barely sat atop the horizon, she saw riders trotting from Bay Roan Stables to the parade grounds across the Green Road. She and Pappy waited as the equestrians passed by, and Teresa watched her step when they resumed their trek. She had no desire to start out her day by stepping in road apples. Journeying into the forest would be bad enough as it was.

Teresa found one hand drifting to her chest, to where the bag of bear fur lay tucked beneath her armor. Give me your strength Bear, she prayed. Help me face this.

Soon the broken spires of Anutwyll rose from the hills to their right. The stones of the road in front of their feet were blackened, as if scorched by some great fire. Teresa's breath hitched in her chest as she stared down at the dark marks. This was where she had been first attacked, where she had summoned the salamander to fight the trolls. Her eyes instantly darted from the road to the trees ahead. Was something moving in the branches? Had she heard a twig snap?

Her fingers curled into a fist, and the symbol for her Burning Hand instantly leaped into the forefront of her mind. She licked her dry lips, and took a step back. Her heart was a hammer in her chest, and she could feel beads of sweat forming on her brow. Were there more trolls? Would they come again? Who would die this time?

Ravenfeeder jumped into her hand - and without sparing another glance at the ominous wall of greenery - Teresa set her spidersilk to the curved stave. Drawing a heavy swallowtail from her gorytos, she fixed it to the right side of the handgrip, just as Daenlin and coached her. Lifting her eyes to the forest once more, she scanned the trees for any sign of danger.

Teresa almost jumped when the cawing of a raven broke the silence. Looking up, she found the majestic black bird flying in a circle above her. Then he darted down, directly toward her. Teresa stood perfectly still as his wings furiously beat the air just inches from her face. A moment later his taloned feet settled upon her armored shoulder, and his wings went silent.

Teresa looked at the blackbird perched upon her shoulder. He stared back at her from down his long, heavy beak. In her mind, she could almost hear him squawk: "Well, what are you waiting for, Saturalia?" Then the bird leapt skyward once more, and vanished into the trees to the west.

Teresa noticed that Pappy was staring her. One of his eyebrows was cocked - in either curiosity or disbelief - Teresa cold not tell. The guild commander said nothing however, and simply waited until Teresa tucked her bow and arrow back into her gorytos and started forward once more. His small, round shield was still slung over his shoulder, and his hand was nowhere near the hilt of his sword. He was plainly not worried about any danger as he walked beside the wood elf.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Sep 17 2011, 05:21 PM

[haute ecole rider]

That is as accurate a representation of PTSD as any I've read. I liked how the raven assured Teresa all is fine now through his behavior, as well as Pappy's relaxed demeanor. Whether or not Teresa even realizes what they are telling her is another matter. We'll have to see . . .

I caught a typo:

His small, round shied was still slung over his shoulder, and his hand was nowhere near the hilt of his sword.

Looks like the 'l' shied away from Teresa's reaction to the imaginary trolls!

[Acadian]

This episode has a lovely natural flow to it. We are not rushed at all, yet you cover plenty of ground as Teresa shares her morning and journey back to where she first encountered the trolls.

’She still had miles to go before possessing curves like Nerussa however. As if that would ever happen!’
Here we see another between the eyes look at Teresa’s insecurity about her ability to be desirable. Oh, and I see you are using the distance convention of miles here. So do I in BF.

’For the thousandth time, she could see them bursting from the undergrowth and racing down the road at her. All yellow-green fur, hooked claws, and fury. She remembered the stink of their breath and the rough bristles of their fur, pressing down upon her…’
This is really well done for how fully and vividly it presents that memory. The beasts’ actions along with how they looked, smelled and felt – all within the space of a very brief paragraph.

’In her mind, she could almost hear him squawk: "Well, what are you waiting for, Saturalia?" Then the bird leapt skyward once more, and vanished into the trees to the west.’
I loved this!

Nits?

’The Breton made a show of clutching his heart and batting his eyebrows at the guild commander.’
I’m not sure at all that there is a nit here. If he was indeed rapidly lifting and lowering his eyebrows, I’m not so sure ‘batting’ conveys that? City Swimmer and Luciana Galena taught Buffy to bat her eyelashes, not eyebrows. But, as you know, Buffy is certainly no expert in such matters and perhaps men do it differently?

’Breakfast ended shortly after, and they all broke up to filed into the main hallway that bisected the ground floor.’
I think we have a casualty of mixed edits here. I expect at one time you were debating between ‘and filed into’ vs ‘to file into’.

[Jacki Dice]

I wanted to wait until I was caught up (I fall behind too much ) but from 37.4

But Teresa was more an Imperial than an elf in any case, Tadrose told herself silently. She would not be interested in other women.



But!

She.....



I'll need to drink some coffee and finish this up before bed. I can't not read to see how this turns out!

[Grits]

It was nice to see Teresa musing that her figure is returning to normal instead of dwelling on her scars. I did wonder if she had healed them away, or if she still has them and just isn’t noticing any more. This and her thousandth thought about the trolls showed a little time passing. I like that she made a bag for her tuft of Bear fur. Silken cord and velvet for materials were interesting choices, and a reminder that she would not choose animal materials.

Pappy in leather armor was a good cue that he isn’t expecting more trolls.

Ravenfeeder jumped into her hand - and without sparing another glance at the ominous wall of greenery - Teresa set her spidersilk to the curved stave.

It made me sad for her when Teresa thought of the forest as an “ominous wall of greenery.” It was nice to see a raven approving of the excursion, but I’m guessing that Pappy’s calm was even more reassuring. Into the woods we go… hopefully.

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: Shied away indeed! We shall see this next episode.


Acadian: The Saturalia line was inspired by Duke Nukem 3D. He would say all sorts of things for the idle animations. One of them was "What are waiting for, Christmas?" Nits all fixed (finally) too.


Jacki Dice: Isn't it wonderful when people jump to all the wrong conclusions for all the right reasons?


Grits: Ooops! I was so busy focusing on the other things, that I forgot about the scars. I am so glad you mentioned them. I went back and put in a few small paragraphs about them too.


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: In our last episode Teresa and Pappy made their way to the edge of the forest. Next, into the ominous wall of greenery they go!


Chapter 39.3 – Picking Flowers


They followed the Green Road west until it turned south and crossed the Larsius over the graceful arch of a stone bridge. Teresa saw the fences and homes of Silverbridge beyond, already bustling with activity as the farmers saw to their livestock, or lifted fishing poles over the river. She wondered if Decimus was at his usual spot farther upstream, with little Poppea and Quintis in tow?

Then Pappy led them off the road, and plunged into the forest along the northern edge of the river. Teresa watched her footing in the underbrush as she followed the Colovian between the cottonwoods with their deeply-scored bark, drooping willows, and tall sycamores. The sound of the rushing water was in her ears, and the crisp air filled her nostrils with its clear scent. After so many days in the city, Teresa had almost forgotten the simple joy of breathing fresh country air, slightly damp from the river, and pregnant with the rich scent of moist loam and grass.

"We need to go farther north," Teresa said to Pappy's back. "The soil's too wet here for lavender. There's a clearing about a mile up where it likes to grow."

The guild commander stopped. "Lead the way," he said, motioning forward with one hand.

Without a second thought, Teresa did exactly that. Stepping lightly up the sloping ground, she soon found the willows, cottonwoods, and sycamores giving way to gnarled oaks and graceful maples. The soil was becoming drier under their feet, she noted, and the air with it. She paused to pick blackberries from a bush along the game trail which they trod upon. After offering a handful to Pappy, she snacked on a few herself. She tucked the rest away into her Thieves Bag, and imagined that Tadrose might like some.

Then she was back in motion. Rather than continuing along the narrow trail, she led Pappy directly into the trees. As always, their branches seemed to almost move out of her way as Teresa stepped between them, and the leaves that dotted the ground did not make a sound under her miran-talurn boots. Pappy on the other hand, seemed to make more noise than a bull in a porcelain shop. If he was not crunching a fallen leaf underfoot, he was cursing the underbrush, or slapping at an insect.

And he was one of the more woods-wise members of the guild too, Teresa ruminated. She wondered if it was only her wood elf ears that made him seem so loud? Or would another human think the same? On the other hand, she could only imagine Ancondil in the forest! By his own admission, the elegant Orisimer would likely walk into more trees than around them.

It was the smell that led her to the lavender, strong and sweet. Following its siren call, the wood elf found a clearing dotted with the tall, violet flowers and knee-high nut sedge. She knelt down at the first clump of the former, and drew forth a small pouch from her Thieves Bag. Picking away at the flowers, she deposited the bright petals into the smaller bag.

"Watch for bears," she said to Pappy as she worked. "They like to eat the sedge."

"It's not bears I'm worried about," Pappy's voice came from behind her. "Make enough noise and you'll never see one."

Teresa nodded. That was the only dangerous thing about being as quiet as she was in the forest. Sneaking up a large predator was rarely a good idea. Especially if you did not realize it was there until you stumbled upon it. Yet she had never known a wolf or bear that meant her harm. Only Barenziah had ever posed a real threat, when she had been so blinded by the pain of her troll-incurred wounds that she could not tell friend from foe.

Teresa wondered where the unfortunate mother grizzly was now? She had last seen her during the tournament, when she had led Lady Scaurus and her friends on their bear-viewing expedition. Are you still out here Barenziah? Or had the trolls finally gotten to you?

Her final thought was punctuated by the sharp intake of Pappy's breath. "Get down," the Colovian hissed. With much quieter footsteps then before, she heard him retreat to the wall of trees behind them. "Due north."

Teresa instantly went down on her belly in the sedge. She took a moment to draw the hood of her armor over her head, covering up her bright red hair. Then rising on all fours, she parted the stalks of grass before her and stared north from between them.

Sure enough, at the edge of the trees across the clearing was a hulking, yellow-green form. It was hunched over on all fours, and its limbs looked too large for the rest of its muscular body. It sniffed along the grass, and slowly made its way along the treeline. A troll!

Teresa's heart leapt into her throat as she stared at the monster. It was just like the one that had attacked her. The same one that had nearly bit her arm off. Even now, she could smell the fetid stink of its breath in her nostrils, and feel its rough fur under her fingers. Her shoulder ached with the memory of its fangs, and she wondered if it could see her from across the clearing with its three eyes?

"Teresa, get behind me," Pappy's voice was a barely audible whisper. Glancing back, the wood elf found the Colovian standing behind a maple at the edge of the clearing, his face barely visible from around its trunk. Lowering her head, Teresa crawled back through the lavender and sedge to the safety of the trees. Rising to a crouch behind her guild commander, she now saw that his shield was in his left hand, and his Nordic sword in the other.

He edged around the tree, so that it completely hid him from the troll's view. He even held his sword straight up, so that its blade would not protrude from the side of the trunk and give his presence away. He stared back at Teresa.

"Use your bow," he whispered. "I'll finish it if it gets close."

Now Teresa understood his plan. If it charged her, it would have to pass directly by him. That would give him a strike from ambush. Would the Colovian be able to kill it with one blow? Teresa knew how experienced a fighter he was from their training sessions. It seemed there was no weapon he was not an expert in, and no foe he had not beaten on the battlefield. If anyone could fell such a beast, it was Pappy.

But could she do it? Teresa stared down at her hand, and realized that it trembled. What if she failed? What if Pappy was not as skilled as she thought? What if it killed him, like Marius? What if it killed her?

She bit her lip, and willed her fingers to be still. "No matter how far you run, you cannot escape from yourself," the voice of another Colovian rang in her ears. "Time to dig in your heels."

Was it the troll she was afraid of, or her own fears?

With an effort of will, Teresa drew Ravenfeeder from her gorytos and set a wide-bladed swallowtail to its stave. Out of habit she glanced down to her waist, where her jar of nightshade usually rested. But she no longer needed the poison, as Ravenfeeder would envenom every arrow she set upon it. She rose to her feet and drew back the white and black dyed feathers of the arrow with her thumb and forefinger, until they rested under her chin.

She sighted in on the troll, raising her bow to compensate for the range. She breathed in deeply, and let out half of her breath. The words of Daenlin whispered gently in her ear: "Feel those strands that bind us, and you will not need eyes to shoot. Simply allow your arrow to sing along that thread." She could not feel the threads. She could not feel anything but the wild beating of her heart, and the pounding of blood in her ears.

Her hand shook upon the bowstave. Biting her lip, she forced it still again with every ounce of her will. Stop thinking so much! she screamed in silence. Just shoot!

The twang of the bowstring was like thunder in her ears. Her arrow sprang loose, seemingly of its own accord. The wood elf held her breath as it spun across the clearing. Then it drove into the side of the monster, throwing it to one knee in grass. The ululation that issued from the beast chilled Teresa's blood. Half moan, half howl, it was a sound that seemed no more a part of Nirn than the war cries of the Daedra that had attacked her in Jensine's shop.

The troll clawed its way to its feet, and Teresa felt her own eyes widen in horror as its gaze locked upon her. Then it was charging on all fours, moving awkwardly with the arrow protruding from its flank. As before, its jaws filled her vision, and those beady black eyes gleamed like the depths of Oblivion itself.

Another arrow found its way into her fingers, and without thinking, Teresa set it to the string of her bow, drew it, and fired. The troll's body snapped back as the missile buried itself in the center of its chest. It fell on its back in the center of the clearing, arms and legs splayed out in the lavender and sedge. Teresa stared at the beast as she nocked a third arrow. Yet it did not move, not even in the slightest.

"Clear," she finally said in a low voice.

Her eyes darted to those of Pappy, who gave her a victorious thumbs up. The Colovian finally stepped from cover, and strode tall and unafraid across the clearing to where the troll lay sprawled. Teresa followed more warily, eyes moving to the forest beyond. Yet there was no sign of anything out of place, no trace of more of the monster's kind.

When she reached the troll, she found that a raven had beaten them there. The sleek, black bird perched upon its chest, and stared back at Teresa. Somehow, the forester knew that it was the same one that had landed upon her shoulder on the road. Teresa felt a wave of relief rush though her. Raven was with her, she thought. The forest was with her. This was her home. It was the trolls that were interlopers, and only they had reason to feel fear.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Sep 19 2011, 09:06 PM

[haute ecole rider]

YAAAY! It felt soo good to see Teresa fall into those hard-earned habits of shooting without thinking. She is more Valenwood than she realizes.

The beginning of the segment, where Teresa thinks about how much noise Pappy is making, made me think of the list of safety rules I encountered when I entered Olympic National Park. This is bear country. Make as much noise as possible. . . .

That was the only dangerous thing about being as quiet as she was in the forest. Sneaking up a large predator was rarely a good idea. Especially if you did not realize it was there until you stumbled upon it.

Amen, sister! Sneaking is usually the first skill I master when I play this game, and so many times I've tripped over a bear or a cat in the dark! Or when it's pouring rain and I can't see my hand in front of my face!

One nit:

Even now, she could smell the fetid stink of its breath in her nostrils, and feel it's rough fur under her fingers.

I think that apostrophe was too scared to duck out of the way!

It was this realization that made me stand up and cheer!

Raven was with her, she thought. The forest was with her. This was her home. It was the trolls that were interlopers, and only they had reason to feel fear.

QFT!

[ghastley]

OK, bow tested - kills trolls in two shots - even if she did start thinking enough to almost make her miss. Armor tested for quiet motion, but not yet for defense. Hmm.

When hunting dangerous creatures you need to be aware of them before they're aware of you. I was a bit shocked to have Pappy detect the troll first, I thought Teresa would have the better sensors to go with her better silence, but then it dawned on me that his noise was deliberate. He could probably move just as silently if he wanted.

Of course, in the game, every creature attacks as soon as it detects you, so real-life logic does not apply. It's good to have that corrected.

[Grits]

Whew! Teresa was not the only one holding her breath.

The ululation that issued from the beast chilled Teresa's blood. Half moan, half howl, it was a sound that seemed no more a part of Nirn than the war cries of the Daedra that had attacked her in Jensine's shop.

and

Raven was with her, she thought. The forest was with her. This was her home. It was the trolls that were interlopers, and only they had reason to feel fear.

answer the questions I had about why trolls were unnatural, why only they would attack Teresa, and why Teresa would happily kill a troll and not some other predator.

What a relief! Teresa is armed, armored, and back in the forest! Now, about that Dunmer armorer…

[Acadian]

Teresa, with a little help from Raven and Pappy, has relearned that courage is action in the presence of fear. And the hunters shall become the hunted by a rightful mistress of the forest.

Okay, this was wonderful. I loved all the little touches you wove into the first part, ranging from Silverbridge and its residents to referencing the tourney.

The build up to the encounter with the troll was nail bitingly suspenseful. Then the actual fight was quick and powerful – as it should be. Well done!

’and pregnant with the rich scent of moist loam and grass.’
If you’re like me, when writing something like this, it is so hard not to use the word ‘earth’ when describing the soil. ‘Nirn’ just doesn’t translate well to dirt though.

[Destri Melarg]

39.2 –

Teresa sighed. What would any woman ever see in her again?

It behooves me to inform our young wood elf that there are some women who prefer scars! (However, since you have placed me on the down low, I guess I wouldn’t know of such things )

I am wondering if Tadrose noticed that Ancondil made no mention of Teresa accompanying him to the ball? Perhaps that will give her some clue as to the nature of their relationship. And it was nice to see raven show up to provide some reassurance when Teresa hesitated. Just as she could almost hear his gentle prodding, I could almost hear a small section of her mind saying: Where were you when I needed you?! Granted you are too small to be much more than a nuisance to a troll, but a small bit of eyeball pecking would have been appreciated!

39.3

Ravenfeeder is well named! And the time with Daenlin proved fortuitous. I shudder to think what might have occurred inside Teresa had the arrows pulled to the left or right. Pappy’s presence notwithstanding, Teresa’s confidence may have taken an insurmountable hit.

For a brief moment there I thought I was reading a chapter of hautee’s story. I would expect to see an ‘ululation’ venture forth from her keyboard. To see one in Teresa’s tale was as welcome as it was appropriate!

‘and pregnant with the rich scent of moist loam and grass.’
Um, we are still talking about the forest here, right?

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: I see we know the same bear safety rules. Along with hanging your food in a tree where it is out of reach.


ghastley: Teresa does have better sensors. But she was busy picking her ingredients, while Pappy's job is to stand look out. So he saw it first.


Grits: There is more this coming episode on the nature of trolls, as well as apes and orcs. That Dunmer armorer will be tackled in the episode next Monday!


Acadian: One thing writing in ES has taught me, is to always name my fantasy worlds "Earth"! I hate not being able to use terms like unearthly, earthenware, earthworks, down-to-earth, etc...


Destri Melarg: I am not sure if people would be able to bring others with to formal balls. It is one of those things I have tried to look up about Regency England, and have gotten nowhere on. My impression was that the head of the household (like Mr. Bennett) would be invited, and they could bring their family members. In any case though, Teresa would not have been able to attend because of her social class. The Lady's balls are formal affairs, so only for the gentry, be they wealthy commoners or actual aristocrats. Teresa got invited the last time only because she was one of the finalists in the tournament.

It is funny you mentioned that ululation. I was hunting for the right word there, and had to go through a lot of other terms before I settled on it.


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: In our last episode, Teresa encountered a troll and killed with her new bow. Next, she and Pappy take a look at the corpse.


Chapter 39.4 – Picking Flowers

"That was good shooting kid. These fetchers can't regenerate with an arrow in the hearts." Poking the dead troll with the tip of his blade, Pappy nodded with approval. The raven took flight with an angry caw, and circled the Colovian for a moment before vanishing in the trees. Teresa noted that it left a single feather behind it, laying on the chest of the dead troll.

Then the guild commander's face turned more serious. "It's like I thought though. This is a West Weald troll."

"How can you tell, old man?" Teresa asked.

"The colorings," Pappy explained. "You can find trolls all over Tamriel, except in Valenwood of course. Damn buggers are almost as adaptable as us humans. They all look different though. The ones in Skyrim are almost blue. In Hammerfell they're brown, and their hair is so short and fine you'd think they didn't have any from a distance. They're yellow as desert sand in Elsweyr, and black as pitch in Argonia and down by Leyawiin."

"So how come they aren't in Valenwood?" Teresa leaned down and picked up the raven's feather. It would go nicely with the bear fur in her heart bag, she thought. If she could only find a way to fit it inside.

"The great apes killed them all, ages ago, and they keep any other ones from moving in," Pappy said. "They have a legend that the trolls were a curse upon them sent by Lorkhan. Bunch of Altmer bollocks if you ask me. But don't try telling them that."

"They like the Altmer?" Teresa tucked the feather away into one of the pouches built into the hip plates of her armor.

"Like them?" Pappy snorted. "The apes practically worship them. They even speak Altmer, and use Altmer names. That has its good points though. They are damn civilized folks, those apes. Brew some excellent brandy too. Surilie Brothers tastes like pond scum after you've had the ape drops."

"It looks diseased." Teresa knelt down beside the dead troll and tugged at the arrows she had fired into it. They did not budge, and she was forced to draw forth a knife and cut out the flesh around the 'V' shaped head of her first missile. "The fur is all dry and coarse, like the bristles on a broom. On a healthy animal it ought to be softer, and have a luster to it."

"Yeah, they are all that way," Pappy said. "You can find mottled patches on their skin under it too, like rashes, and sometimes even boils."

"But if they regenerate, how can they be sick?" Teresa asked as she yanked out her first arrow and inspected the shaft. As she feared, it was warped. Snapping off the head, she wiped it clean on the troll's fur and put it in one of her pouches. There was no sense in letting one of Tadrose's points go to waste after all.

"Damn if I know," Pappy said. "You know what it reminds me of? Corprus. I saw plenty of it when I was with the Tenth over in Vvardenfell. It killed most people straight out. But some of them it… changed instead. It turned them into Ashwalkers. You could see the disease was eating them up, but at the same time its magic made them stronger, and stranger, than anything natural. Maybe the apes are right, maybe these trolls are a curse."

"They look like apes," Teresa pointed out as she went to work on freeing her second arrow. "At least from the drawings I've seen."

"Aye," Pappy agreed. "Take away that third eye in the middle of their foreheads, and give them regular hands and feet, and you'd have a great ape alright. That's why a lot of people think they might have been apes once, and they got corrupted. Like people say orcs were once elves, but got changed with Malacath."

Teresa regarded the monster next to her. She had heard more than one person say that bears and wolves were ravening beasts, that would attack anyone on sight. But her time in the forest had shown her the truth. Neither would have ever attacked anyone like the trolls had on the road. Unless you frightened or surprised them, natural predators steered well clear of people.

It was the trolls that were the ravening monsters, Teresa thought. They would indeed attack anyone they saw, regardless of the circumstances. Was that because they saw people as competition? Or were people simply food? Or was it something deeper? Was it just simple hate for other living things?

"People used to say that orcs were all evil, just mindless monsters," Teresa said. "Because the Daedra twisted them. But they aren't."

"Well, between you and me, I think that story's just a load of imp chips," Pappy said. "I think orcs were always the way they are now. I've seen what Daedric power does to things in Morrowind. It corrupts them, like the Ashwalkers, or Dagoth Ur. There's not a damn thing warped or twisted about an orc."

Teresa nodded. Ancondil was all the proof of that she would ever need of that, let alone the gro-Baroth brothers. Orcs were beautiful and powerful, like the bears that roamed the forest. They were also a healthy shade of green, just like the grass and the leaves of the trees.

"These trolls, they're all wrong though." Pappy stared down at the dead troll, and kicked it with one boot. "Natural animals don't have magical powers, and they don't just attack people for no reason. Something made them the way they are now. A Daedra Lord, or just some crazy magician, I dunno. It's the same way with will-o-wisps, imps, minotaurs, and some say goblins and ogres. Something changed them into what they are now. Made them just plain vicious."

"What worries me most right now though is that it shouldn't be here," Pappy continued. "This has never been troll country. They're all to the west, in the West Weald. This is bear and wolf country."

"So how did it get here?" Teresa asked. "Is something driving them out of the Weald?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Pappy said. "There have been more attacks up north of here too, in the villages along the Green Road. In fact, the farther north you go, the worse they get. We're just catching the edge of it down here, and so far they've not been seen south of the Larsius at all."

"So how do we stop them?" Teresa finished with her second arrow, and was pleased to see that its shaft remained straight and true. She wiped its head clean and set it aside. Then she regarded her fingers, now dripping with blood.

"We don't stop them," Pappy grumbled with a sour face. "Now that the Count's back, I made him an offer to hire the guild to clear them out. We could even bring in people from Skingrad and Leyawiin to help. They have experience with trolls. But that cheap prick won't part with one red septim. Won't even put a bounty on trolls. Although with all the idiots that would bring out it's just as well. They'd probably kill more people by accident than the trolls can on purpose."

Teresa imagined the woods filled with greedy bounty hunters and shuddered. How many bears like Barenziah, or wolves like Tsume, would they kill while they were at it? Not to mention the other animals unfortunate enough to make a sound when they were nearby?

"So the Count's just going to ignore it?" Teresa fumed. "I saw he put some more men at the front gate. Is that it then?"

"Lerus did that while he was still gone," Pappy said. "But he hasn't rescinded the move. He likes to go riding on the parade grounds. He did send some guardsmen up north though. Not enough to drive out the trolls, but they might keep them away from the villages. If you notice fewer guards in the city, that's why. I've got half a mind to go up there and see if we can drum up some business from the farmers themselves. If they pool together, they might be able to come up with enough money for me to justify it."

After wiping most of the blood from her fingers in the grass, Teresa raised one hand skyward. She focused on her Bloom spell, and channeled her magicka through that symbol. She released the energy gathered in her fist a moment later, and felt it wash down over her like a cleansing tide. Afterward she found her hands free of stains.

Next she rummaged through her Thieves Bag, and drew forth a bottle of her home-brewed body wash of vanilla and pomegranate and rubbed it through her fingers. Taking a few lavender petals, she crushed the flowers in her hands as well, adding their sweet scent to her skin.

"Women," Pappy shook his head.

"I don't want to smell like blood," Teresa countered. "That might give a bear the wrong idea."

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Sep 24 2011, 07:28 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Wonderful little natural history lesson here! And it's Pappy giving it! Yay for him. It's high time we learned that he did more than find the best local brew and chase skirts everywhere he went. Though of course he had to mention that ape drops beat Surilie Brothers hands down every time! Did you hear that Acadian? Would Buffy be heading west of Bravil to see if that's true? Makes me wish there was a good mod for Valenwood like there is one for Elseweyr and Hammerfell.

I have to agree with Teresa's assessment - those trolls look like leprosy on wheels. Ugh. Interesting division of "natural" vs. "unnatural" creatures. To me, they're all natural. I've seen too much of what is natural here in this earth to write 'em off as unnatural. I understand the use of magic as a criteria to differentiate between what is magical/monstrous and what isn't. But it's like using language or brain size or IQ points to differentiate between what is human and what isn't. Just not enough is known about any of these criteria to be able to make such clean boundaries.

Regardless of my own personal thinking about all creatures Nirn, I really enjoyed the mini-lecture from Pappy. Well thought out and well argued, just as I would expect from him.

Only one nit:

Made them just plain viscous.

The troll was so vicious he scared off the proper word! Viscous actually refers to the thick quality of certain liquids, such as syrup or even congealed blood. And I have a hard time putting trolls and honey together in the same breath!

[ghastley]

That typo reminded me of Ye Olden Days of Dungeons and Dragons with the Gray Ooze and Green Slime, which were both viscous and vicious at the same time.

I get the impression that Pappy's opinion of any drink depends entirely on its alcohol content, so the comparison with Surilie Brothers brandy is suspect. He needs to try the Peppermint Schnapps!