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

[McBadgere]

I always have votes for Storm-Tail, maybe someday I need to do an ST fic?

Aw hell yeah!!... ...Lets face it, you'll save on the dialogue a bit... ...

Aaaamywho...

Fantastic chapter that covers much ground and several days in an eyeblink...Brilliant stuff...

"So you and the vice-commander seem pretty close..." Riveus ventured after several long moments.

"We are." Thoughts of the Septims fled Teresa's mind.

I'll bet they did... ...

Why did men always have to be so nosy?

...

Just because is why...

Nah, an excellent reminder of how little time has actually passed since the start of the story...And also a brilliant way of dragging people back to the dungoens and whole MQ thing...Brilliantly done...*Applauds*...

Loved it!!...

Looking forward to the muchly more!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds most heartily*...

[King Coin]

Simplicia tells it straight. Perhaps a little too straight, I’m beginning to think Teresa’s way with people is part to Simplicia letting her know that they were nobodies frequently. I liked the opening memory/dream, even if it isn’t a happy one.

Muffle! One of my favorite spells. The little conversation with Riveus was fun; Teresa doesn’t seem to enjoy conversation as much as he does. His analogy got a chuckle. And then her venom towards the talk!

[Colonel Mustard]

Eee, update!

I loved this chapter; an interesting look into Teresa's past, and how much of an effect Simplicia's 'good advice' had on her. I found the conversation with Riveus whilst going through the forest to be an interesting read, and I'm getting rather fond of him; slightly reminds of someone I knew a little while ago, in fact.

"Hey, I'm not trying to bust your balls or anything," the Colovian finally said apologetically. "You aren't the first elf I've met. I know you all float your boats into either port. I've just never heard of anyone ever managing to dock at the vice-commander's quay."

And we have a strong contender for the February bracket of the Colonel Mustard Innuendo of the Month award.

[SubRosa]

Acadian: Well-meaning but counter-productive is exactly how much of Simplicia's parenting turned out. That will be coming to a head next chapter in fact, when Teresa finally faces her feelings about Simplicia, good, bad, and ugly.

Riveus has been fun to have around these last few chapters. Just as you said, he reminds me of the Tournament of Archers. I have gone back to read some of that over again because of him.

I like Teresa's raven too. It is a gentle reminder of her magical abilities. I almost forgot to put it in during my first draft! Thankfully I remembered and got him cawing back in there.


McBadgere: I would save on a lot of dialogue in a Storm-Tail fic! Seriously though, I would have to add a sidekick type character who would do most of the talking, and draw ST out of his laconicness. Not necessarily a person, even a talking sword or spirit would do. It worked well in Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust.

I sat back and counted how long it is has been since the story began, and it has only been eight months. Not much time at all. But there sure have been a lot of words!


King Coin: A lot of Teresa's confidence issues, and anger management issues, stem from the things she learned from Simplicia. While 'plicia was trying to prepare Teresa for the harsh realities that she knew she would face, it has not always been helpful.

When I first thought up and wrote that silencing effect, the muffle spell had not been invented yet! It was just a Fortify Sneak. But I guess now that we have it, Muffle is indeed what we should call it.


Colonel Mustard: I had a lot of fun working on that innuendo about Tadrose's dock! Riveus is a fun character to write about. He's a regular guy, rubbing shoulders with all these university graduates, war heroes, knights, witches, etc... He reminds me a lot Garibaldi and Zack from Babylon 5 (whom I always think of as "regular guys in space").


Previously On Teresa Of The Faint Smile: Our last episode saw Teresa reliving a memory of her childhood, in which the grim realities of being a street urchin were rammed a home a little too bluntly by the well-meaning Simplicia. Afterward we found Teresa and Riveus making their way through the forest toward Wenyandawik, and making small talk about Storm-Tail, and Teresa's relationship with Tadrose.


Chapter 44.3 – Revelations And Mysteries

It was nearing midday when the raucous cawing of her raven shattered the quiet of the forest. Teresa instantly dropped to one knee. She raised an open hand to Riveus, and heard the creak of his leather greaves as he knelt down behind her. Teresa turned her head this way and that, eyes scanning the bare branches of the hawthorns and birches that surrounded them.

Then the smell of burning wood came to her nostrils, sweet and strong. It was faint at first, but grew stronger as the cold wind picked up in her face. A glance back at Riveus showed that he smelled it as well. He pointed ahead of them, and slightly to the left. Far ahead there Teresa saw her raven, sitting atop a stand of bushes. Teresa smiled faintly, and moved forward in a crouch.

She took her time, carefully picking her way through the trees and shrubs. While denuded of their greenery, their trunks and branches still provided some protection from prying eyes. It was with this in mind that Teresa moved from one source of cover to another, eyes constantly moving from one direction to another.

Soon other scents came to Teresa's nose. The deep, pungent odor of cattle dung, mixed in with the ranker stench of unwashed bodies. The sound of voices came to her ears now as well. Deep and coarse, they did not sound like anything that might be produced by a human or elven throat. The sound was too low to make out any words however. Rather it was just an occasional noise lifted by the crisp autumn breeze.

Teresa slowed to a glacial pace. Dropping to all fours, she inched forward on her belly before her raven. Parting the brush before her face with both hands, she nearly gasped at the sight before her eyes.

A city of gentle archways and spiraling towers stretched out before her. The bright sun glittered off the white stone of its temples and palaces, as if they were built from snow rather than rock. Between the graceful buildings strode pale-skinned elves dressed in silk and velvet. They were often accompanied by more modestly attired beings with round ears or tails. These appeared to be servants or slaves from their diffident postures, and the burdens many carried. Ringing the sprawling city was a wall of high stone dotted with towers, among whose peaks ravens swooped and cawed.

Teresa blinked. In the clearing before her she saw nothing but a few fallen trees. Of the once mighty city, all that remained were two structures. One was a small building shaped like a pie-wedge. The narrow point of the wedge faced her, and within that wall Teresa could see an open doorway leading down into darkness. At least three dozen paces before that rose up the circular steps of a star well. Crowning its center was a latticework of rusted metal spines, rising to a single point where pure magicka bubbled up into the sky with a breathtaking display of color.

Stomping around the clearing were a dozen grey-skinned creatures of titanic proportions. The hulks must have stood at least twice of the height of a full-grown orc, and Teresa imagined they weighed at least four times as much as one of the emerald-hued mer folk. They wore little in the way of clothing. Indeed, their attire amounted to nothing more than simple animal skin loincloths. Many adorned themselves with leather straps around their ankles, feet, and arms. Some wore bags slung over their shoulders, and a few carried clubs that looked like small tree-trunks stripped of their branches. The creature's heads seemed small in comparison to their saggy, bulky frames. Teresa noted that their scalps were hairless, their eyes small and beady, and their mouths filled with jagged white teeth.

"Ogres!" Riveus hissed from beside her. "What in the blue blazes are they doing here?"

"Now we know what drove the goblins out..." Teresa murmured quietly.

"Wait, what's that over there?"

Teresa followed the Imperial's pointing finger. Coming from around the back of the single building was a large cart pulled by aurochs. The conveyance was a crude affair whose base was built from logs and branches. Yet atop this stood a very sturdy-looking iron cage. Within its metal bars lurked hunched shapes covered in sickly yellow and green fur. A pair of ogres led the prison wagon to the center of the clearing, between the Arimer well and the wedge-shaped building. A third ogre hovered beside the wagon, lashing out with a whip whenever a taloned paw ventured through the bars of the cage.

"Trolls!" Teresa cursed. "They are bringing trolls from the West Weald!"

A figure in black emerged from the white stone building. This was no ogre however. Rather he was the size of a human or mer. Strangely the grey giants all stepped diffidently around him. Teresa strained her eyes to get a better look at him, yet the black robes and hood he wore betrayed no hint of the identity of their owner.

"So who is that?" Riveus whispered.

Teresa shrugged, and watched as the robed man stepped up to the wagon and waited. She followed his gaze, and saw an ogre walking across the clearing to meet him. This one was even taller than the others, and the Bosmer was certain that she detected the flash of gold from the belt of skulls that girded his waist, and silver from the heavy necklace that hung from his shoulders.

"That's got to be their chief," Riveus observed. "I'd give a hundred septims to know what is going on down there."

"Get your gold ready then," Teresa breathed. She reached into the Thieves Bag at her hip, and withdrew a smaller satchel. Lifting its flap, she revealed a row of colored vials tucked into individual leather loops. She drew forth a green bottle that was etched with the symbol of a shrouded eye, and then put the satchel back into her magic bag.

"Wait a minute, you're not going to-"

"It's a good thing we found that domica redwort the other day." Teresa cut him off. "Otherwise I would not have been able to make this."

She upended the vial over her mouth, and gulped down the smooth liquid. It tasted vaguely of lavender and grape. Her hand vanished from view, and when Teresa looked down, she found that the rest of her body had disappeared as well.

"Blast it girl, are you mad?" Riveus hissed. He reached out for her, but his hand found nothing but empty air. For Teresa was already working her way down into the ogre's camp.

As before, she took her time as she picked her way through the last of the trees. She did not want to disturb a single branch or bush, and give away her presence to a perceptive eye. For she knew that while she might be invisible, the marks of her passing were not. The last thing she needed was to ruffle a branch as she passed, and alert the ogres who patrolled the edge of the clearing that they were not alone.

Then she was out in the open, and Teresa turned on the speed. Her feet raced through low grass, only dotted with occasional leaves. She avoided the latter, and ate the distance between herself and the robed figure. Her daily runs around Bravil stood her in good stead here, and she crossed the space in no time at all.

As she neared the mysterious figure, she noted that his robes were not unadorned after all. Rather a stylized skull was emblazoned upon his chest in the dark, rust color of dried blood. A pair of bony hands reached up from beneath the grim visage, completing the chilling display. It was a symbol that Teresa knew well. The necromancer she had fought in Vilverin had worn exactly the same...

Teresa slowed her pace as she neared. She knew that if he was a necromancer, he might possess a detect life enchantment or spell. Invisible or not, that would make her plain as day. Teresa smiled faintly as her gaze settled upon the approaching ogre chief. Her entire body could vanish behind his bulk, and leave plenty of room to spare. The necromancer would never see the magicka of her soul through that which permeated the monster's great bulk.

Teresa scuttled sideways, and put the hulk between her and the magician. Moving forward again, she crept up to within just a few feet of the creature. His stench made her want to gag. It was nearly as bad as the putrid effluvium of a troll. She was thankful those were farther away in the wagon. She was not sure if she could keep her gorge down if exposed to an entire pack of them at once.

Teresa reflexively ducked when the ogre reached back with one hand, and scratched his backside loudly. For a moment she held her breath. A little closer, and he might have bashed her head in!

"Here are the trolls Jalbert, as promised." The ogre's voice was an avalanche of stone careening down a rough mountainside.

That name slipped a glacier down the back of Teresa's neck. Jalbert! It was none other than the same Redguard necromancer from Vilverin: the monster who had killed Destri's father, tortured his bandit compatriots, and turned them into undead slaves. Jalbert, who had nearly killed her as well in those dark passages, far from the warming rays of Magnus.

Teresa's hand filled with mithril. The dagger's blade ached to taste Redguard blood and brains. She could not see him through the bulk of the ogre's flabby legs, but in her mind's eye, Teresa could picture that sweet spot in the side of the necromancer's neck. One plunge there with her dagger would send its point driving into the stem of his brain. All she had to do was get behind him, grab the top of his head, and pull to one side. He would be dead in an instant.

She had nearly cleared the bulk of the chief when the sound of Jalbert's voice brought her back to reality. If she killed him, what then? She would become visible right in the midst of the ogre's camp. She knew that she was fast, but she doubted that she was fast enough to outrun them all. She certainly had no pretensions about defeating them in battle. One ogre would be trial enough, but a dozen of them? That would be suicide. What of Riveus as well? Surely they would search the woods after they killed her. They would find him, and kill him too. Was his life worth her revenge?

No, it was not.

"Very well Azog." The Redguard's voice made Teresa's guts roil. "See to it that they are released on the Green Road. And no more mistakes. You nearly ruined everything that time you turned them loose too close to the city."

"We will do as promised mageling." The contempt was not disguised in the ogre's voice. "Perhaps when we are done, we will return to feast upon red flesh..."

"Watch your tone with me beast," Jalbert spoke haughtily. "Remember that you have sworn by Malacath to serve me."

"Malacath respects the strong," the ogre rumbled, "not the truthful."

"Then remember my master," the necromancer hissed. Teresa was stunned when the Redguard actually stepped forward, causing the massive ogre to back up before him. "You know whom I serve. You know what he will make of your petty flesh and bones if you interfere with our plans."

Teresa realized that she was no longer hidden by the ogre. She was now looking directly at Jalbert. His curly black hair was cut as close as ever upon his scalp. However, now he had grown a short, black goatee upon his chin. She could swear that he looked right into her, and Teresa's heart stopped. She gripped her dagger tightly, and prepared to spring upon the magician. But his eyes slid away from her an instant later, and glared back at the monster that towered above him.

"Get to your work," the necromancer glowered. "The city guard must be kept busy elsewhere, if my comrades and I are to conclude our business within Bravil."

Teresa scampered back behind the ogre before Jalbert could look her way again. She stifled a sigh of relief, and thanked Raven that he had not been using detect life after all. Otherwise there would have been a bloodbath, and much of it hers.

Jalbert turned away and strode back to the ruin, while the ogre chief barked orders at his underlings. Teresa sprinted across the clearing and back to the safety of the brush. Her mind whirled with what she had overheard. It was Jalbert who was behind the troll attacks near the city, and the goblin attack upon the Lady Scaurus' mine! For who else could have prompted the ogres to drive the Fire Hands from Wenyandawik?

She had to tell Pappy. The count too, for whatever Jalbert and his mysterious master were planning, it clearly involved Bravil. But what in Oblivion were the necromancers really up to?

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Feb 6 2013, 01:03 AM

[Acadian]

What a fabulous vision greeted Teresa as she parted the bushes beneath Raven! Then, in the blink of an elven eye, the Arimer city was transported to the decaying present.

"Here are the trolls Jalbert, as promised." The ogre's voice was an avalanche of stone careening down a rough mountainside. ‘
Not only is this a magnificent description of how an ogre (besides Shrek) might talk, but the familiar name Jalbert instantly gave me the same chill as it gave to Teresa.

Very clever countermeasures against the possibility of detect life.

Good decision not to knife the Redguard in the open. In addition to all the reasons Teresa mentioned, if I know Riveus, he would have thrown himself to her defense. She is right; such an ill-advised move would have surely meant death for both Bosmeri and Legion foresters.

Wow, a potent necrodude in league with several abominations of nature. Only the Fighters Guild can make this right by applying the righteous boots of justice to the foul backsides of these foes!

Nit: I think you want only one ‘w’ in caw, even when adding ‘ing’ or ‘ed’. Looks like two instances in this episode -
‘It was nearing midday when the raucous cawwing of her raven shattered the quiet of the forest.’
‘Ringing the sprawling city was a wall of high stone dotted with towers, among whose peaks ravens swooped and cawwed.’

[McBadgere]

He reminds me a lot Garibaldi and Zack from Babylon 5 (whom I always think of as "regular guys in space").

*Whimpers a little*...Damn I miss that series...Which, considering I have the "The Complete" box-set is a bit daft...But there you are...No time in the face of new tele, see?...

Aaaamywho...

Blimey!!...

I'd forgotten about him in the depths of Vilverin!!... ...

That was excellently done...Shocker, right?... ...

Th Ogres were very nicely handled...Loved that...

I'm with Acadian, the vision of the city was beautiful...Brilliant that...

A week is always a long time to wait, but worth it!...

Nice one!!..

*Applauds heartily*...

[Grits]

I love the ravens in Teresa’s vision along with the appearance of her own raven, especially after she has her Imperial upbringing on her mind. I am still very curious about Teresa’s origin. I wonder if she explains herself as an unusually pale Bosmer or if she privately thinks there could be more to her appearance. I briefly thought that those pale-skinned elves with raven-friends might be her kin rather than a vision. As always I am immensely enjoying Teresa’s adventure and her world, but her inner journey is the most fascinating to me.

[Colonel Mustard]

Ooh, an update! One with visions of a city, ogres, a necromancer, hints of an even bigger bad and oh my!

Also, ogres can talk? This is news. I thought they were just big mindless things that weren't properly sentient, like goblins or falmer. Then again, I haven't played Oblivion in an age, so I wouldn't be surprised if they did and I just forgot. That would be quite typical of me.

[King Coin]

The vision of the city was unexpected; I wonder what caused her to see that so vividly with her waking eyes?

Ogres, that would explain the smell. I wondered if they had found a campsite of a large bandit raid party.

I’m sure that going down there, invisibility potion or no, would be a poor decision. She doesn’t know how good their other senses are. This wouldn’t be a Pappy approved venture.

Ah, Jalbert again. That was a very tense moment when he looked right at her.

[mALX]

I’m sorry it took so long to catch up, having a tough time of things in RL lately.

Chapter 44.2 - I started this chapter several times and had to (for one reason or another) stop and come back to it. Could not restart it where I left off and miss re-reading the dream/memories of her childhood with Simplicia - absolutely powerful revelation as Teresa wakes and the implications of those words being repeated so many times in her impressionable years - may be a clue to Teresa’s anger/self image.

This is a wonderful screen of Teresa in this chapter, you captured some real emotion in this shot!

LOVED Teresa’s conversation with Riveus at the end! This line had me rolling:

"Hey, I'm not trying to bust your balls or anything," the Colovian finally said apologetically. "You aren't the first elf I've met. I know you all float your boats into either port. I've just never heard of anyone ever managing to dock at the vice-commander's quay."

Chapter 44.3 - Your detail/descriptions were wonderful for visual and sensory imagery in this chapter

"Wait a minute, you're not going to-"

"It's a good thing we found that domica redwort the other day." Teresa cut him off. "Otherwise I would not have been able to make this."

She upended the vial over her mouth, and gulped down the smooth liquid. It tasted vaguely of lavender and grape. Her hand vanished from view, and when Teresa looked down, she found that the rest of her body had disappeared as well.

"Blast it girl, are you mad?" Riveus hissed. He reached out for her, but his hand found nothing but empty air. For Teresa was already working her way down into the ogre's camp.

Once again you have developed an interesting rapport with Teresa and one of her co-partners in the field - loved this little interchange for showcasing that!

Now this is an intriguing mystery! Awesome write, as always!

[ghastley]

Good to see this one back in action!

Is the raven vision supposed to be Teresa imagining the original state of the Ayleid city, or something fed to her through the channel of the raven? I'm getting overtones of it being the raven's own memories, but it works well either way.

I had to go back and remind myself how you'd adapted Jalbert to this story, as well as whether he'd remember her or not. He did get a bit singed by that encounter, but I'm still not sure if Teresa's changed enough that he wouldn't take her as being someone new. Still, if he can't see her, it's moot.

[Lady Saga]

Post 100, page 5

This post has been edited by Lady Saga: May 22 2013, 03:41 PM

[SubRosa]

Acadian: As I have often suggested to other writers, the player character should not be the only person in the world capable of using a detect life spell. So I made sure Teresa took this into account as well. Granted she did not consider that any of the ogres might be able to detect life. But then who would?

Given their past, Teresa needed to have that internal debate over whether or not to kill Jalbert on the spot. As you said, her good sense won out, as both she and Riveus would have been killed in the aftermath.

Thanks for pointing out the extra 'w' in caw. I did not even think about it when I was writing!


McBadgere: I have B5 on dvd as well. I keep thinking of pulling it out to watch over again as well, as it has been years since I have seen it.

It has been a long time since we read about Vilverin. That is why I put in the little rumination on Teresa's part of what happened there, to remind people. I said a long time ago that I was going to be tying up loose ends in these next few chapters. Jalbert is one of those.


Grits: Teresa is still curious about her origin as well! I have it worked out, but I do not think I will ever get to exploring it in the story. But the answers to your questions are yes and yes. The ending of The Last King Of The Ayleids might offer a clue about Teresa's white skin:
..."But still, I cannot deny how romantic it would be if the rumors were true, and somehow he slipped away into some secret valley, never to be seen again. That even as we speak, his descendants live in peace and harmony with nature, as the Arimer once did at the dawn of their rule."

Like you, to me it is Teresa's internal journey that gives me the most pleasure. The TF has always been focused on that more than anything else.


Colonel Mustard: I do not believe we ever hear an ogre speak in Oblivion. But to me it seemed likely that they could. They make clothing, and those loops around their arms and legs are purely for show, not utility, so they like adornments as well. They also use simple tools like those clubs. So to me they seem close to neanderthals. Goblins strike me as being even more intelligent, as they wear even more complex clothing, their lairs have actual kitchens, they raise rats as livestock, etc...


King Coin: While Teresa has concentrated upon being an archer, she has the makings of a shaman as well. We all know that she has a deep spiritual connection to the forest, and that when she communes with the spirits of the land she can see their history. She also has such a connection to her race, which she has not done much to foster. Her city-seeings are brief moments where her spiritual powers merges with that connection with her race, and for just an instant she remembers what it was to be an Arimer.

That was indeed ill-advised for her to sneak down there like that. But as Commander Adama was fond of saying "Sometimes you have to roll the hard six." Pappy would only have approved if she came back alive!


mALX: It has taken me a long time to start writing again because of RL as well! So do not feel bad. We will be seeing Teresa's emotions concerning Simplicia's upbringing coming to a head in just a few more episodes. It is something I have subtly worked upon for a long time now.


ghastley: I am sure Jalbert will never forget Teresa and her bottle-red hair! But as you said, thankfully she was invisible. They will have their chance to be face to face (and visible), in just a few chapters though.


Lady Saga: That is a long way back. Hurry up and read some more! Don't leave Teresa trapped in that sewer!


Previously On Teresa Of The Faint Smile: Our last chapter saw the Fighters Guild finally preparing to leave Lady Scaurus' mine, now that its defenses have been rebuilt by the surviving miners and local peasants. Teresa and Riveus journeyed to Wenyandawik while the others returned to Bravil. They found the ruin populated by ogres, who were bringing trolls from the West Weald to turn loose on the Green Road north of Bravil. They were working for none other than Jalbert, the necromancer who had escaped Teresa at Vilverin so long ago. He intimated that their actions were just a diversion for some plan of his concerning the city itself.


Chapter 45.1 – Shadow Dancing

14th Evening Star - 17th Evening Star 3E433

Teresa stood before the Count of Bravil. She was clad in Aldariel, and Ravenfeeder was unstrung and tucked into the chitin gorytos at her hip. The green miran-talurn leaves of her armor glistened, and Teresa was glad she had taken the time to clean them of dust and grime and dab them with water. However, even as resplendent as the enchanted Valenwood armor was, she felt self-conscious standing within the center of the court.

Beside her stood Pappy, gird in his mixture of legion plate and orcish scale. The golden laurel set into his breastplate glittered brightly, announcing to all that he had earned the empire's highest honor: the Grass Crown. His legion helmet was tucked snugly in the crook of his arm, and the lobed, whalebone hilt of his nordic sword Hardrada rose from his hip.

Around them stretched out the great hall of Castle Bravil. Its ceiling floated high overhead, and the stone walls supporting it were pierced by clerestories that filled the room with the wan light of the autumn sun. Adding to the illumination were numerous wall sconces holding bright glowstones, chasing away the shadows that tried to pool around the two rows of pillars that ran the length of the chamber.

Before them sat Count Regulus Terentius. He wore blue velvet stitched with gold and silver, and an arming sword of solid black hung from his waist. Teresa's eyes were drawn to it, for it was like nothing she had ever seen. Unlike ebony, it did not reflect the light. Instead every part of the weapon was the same flat shade of black. It seemed to devour all illumination cast upon it, as if it was a sightless pit formed into the shape of a sword.

"So you claim these, ogres was it, were bringing trolls from the West Weald to turn loose upon the Green Road?" The count leaned back in his chair, resting his chin under a closed fist. His features were worn, and it seemed as if a murder of crows had left their footprints around his dark eyes. The olive skin of his nose was dotted with red flin blossoms, and his stomach protruded more than slightly from his midsection. As Teresa watched, he raised a cup to his mouth, and took a long gulp from the liquid within.

"Yes my lord," Teresa replied directly. "I heard the necromancer clearly give them the orders."

"This Jalbert fellow?" The count looked bored, and he held out his goblet while a velvet-clad servant filled it from a pitcher. "A Redguard magician of your previous acquaintance."

"A necromancer," Teresa replied, "who escaped justice at Vilverin."

An aged Dunmer stood to the other side of the throne from the servant, and leaned down to whisper something into the count's ear. The dark elf was dressed in black velvet that was stitched with gold and fringed with ermine. His short hair was bone white, and his dusky skin was lined and worn from the Time Dragon's attention. Teresa imagined that he must be many centuries old, perhaps even as old as the empire itself?

"Yes Drels, you are quite right." Count Terentius nodded as the dark elf leaned back and stood straight once more. Then his gaze moved from back to Teresa and Pappy. "We appreciate your diligence in this matter. However, you were quite mistaken in your conclusions."

Teresa blinked. What on Nirn was the drunken fetcher talking about?

"We are quite aware of the actual situation," the count went on, "and are already making efforts to rectify matters."

"What the fetch are you babbling about Terentius?" Pappy said exactly what Teresa was thinking. "You've got necromancers using goblins, trolls, and ogres to pull your troops out of the city, so they can strike right here in Bravil. What in Oblivion are you going to do about it?"

The count nearly spilled his goblet at Pappy's rebuke. His free hand fell to the hilt of his sword. Teresa's trained eye noted that while he was flabby from self-indulgence, there was still muscle underneath the sloth. She had heard many say that before his days of worshiping at the wine cask, Regulus Terentius had once been a questing knight and tournament champion. Apparently a shadow of that former man still dwelled within his frame.

Yet as soon as his hand touched the hilt of his black sword, a strange look crossed the middle-aged Nibenean's features. It was gone so quickly that Teresa wondered if it had even been there at all. Yet if she had to guess, she would have to say it had been a wince. As if touching his weapon had caused him pain.

"Based upon what?" Now the count leaned back on his throne and scoffed. "The ramblings of some half-breed bark-biter? The insistence of a commoner booted from Imperial Legion, and then booted again from champion of the thugs guild? You overstep yourself Vitellus, we know full well what is transpiring in the forest, and it has nothing to do with necromancers."

Teresa felt her skin burn hot at the nobleman's jibes. She held her tongue though, in spite of how badly she wanted to give the Nibenean a piece of her mind. Instead her gaze traveled to his Dunmer advisor, who looked quite pleased with himself. Just who on Nirn was he, and what was his agenda? Clearly he was pulling the count's strings.

"Why don't you illuminate us lowly plebeians with your brilliance my lord." Pappy's words seethed with acid.

"Now see here Vitellus," the count growled. "One more word and I'll toss the both in the dungeons and throw away the key!"

Pappy crossed his arms in front of his chest. The Colovian fighter's blue eyes were as cold as a glacier as he stared back at the aristocrat. "You go right ahead and try."

"If I may my lord?" The Dunmer spoke in a placating tone. After a nod from Terentius, he took one step forward. "I have been sent to assist his lordship with suppressing the Renrijra Krin insurgency and drug trade from across the border in Elsweyr. Thanks to my agents, we have learned that after their former trade route through Bawn was, ahem, closed off, the Renrijra Krin shifted their efforts to the north. Since Castle Black Boot had been evacuated by the legion during the Oblivion Crisis, they occupied it and are now bringing skooma across the border there."

"What your scout thought she witnessed in Wenyandawik was not a scheme of necromancers, but rather part of an elaborate plot of the rebels. It is nothing but an attempt to trick us and strip the Green Road of its defenses. Defenses needed to interdict the drug traffic now moving through that route. The Renrijra Krin would like nothing more than for us to withdraw all our guards to Bravil. It would leave them free to move contraband through the entire area unopposed."

"That's not it at all!" Teresa insisted. "I know what-"

A raised hand from Terentius cut the wood elf off in mid-sentence. "That will be all," the count said. "I will not hear another word of this fear-mongering in my city."

"But…" Teresa bit her tongue as the count took another long gulp from his goblet. Beside her, Pappy just shook his head. A single man clad in mail and the deer -emblazoned surcoat of the Bravil City Guard stepped between the mercenaries and the count. He did not say a word, but his expression made it clear that they had best be on their way.

"This is on your head Terentius!" Pappy growled. The guild commander spun on an armored heel and stomped away. "When the dung falls on Bravil, you'll be held to account!"

Teresa followed, mind whirling from what had taken place. Given everything she had heard of the count, she had not expected meeting him to be pleasant. But she never imagined he would completely ignore what she and Riveus had discovered at Wenyandawik! She could only hope that when the Imperial Forester made his own report to his superiors at Castle Virtue, they would not be so obtuse!

"So now what Pappy?" Teresa asked after the pair had exited the hall. "We have to do something about this."

"I haven't even started yet," the Colovian fighter vowed. "One way or another, I'm going to get to the bottom of his. Starting with that fetcher Drels and the imp chips he's slinging."

Teresa took a deep breath before she next spoke. "I think we should tell Baurus," she said. "He gave me a dead drop to use if I ever discovered a threat. I think this is one."

"The Blades?" Pappy shook his head. "I don't like it. You can never trust those damned cloak and dagger types."

"They scare me too sometimes Pappy," Teresa admitted. She remembered how Baurus had covered up her incarceration in the Imperial Prison. The Blades could rewrite history with the wave of a hand. She knew that they could erase people just as easily, as they did with the Mythic Dawn agent in Luther Broad's Boarding House. Without an emperor, they no longer answered to anyone. They were a law entirely unto themselves.

"What other choice do we have though?" Teresa went on. "We cannot take Wenyandawik on our own. Even if we did, that is just the sideshow. Whatever the necromancers are really after is right here. We don't even know what it is yet!"

"I know, I know," the guild commander sighed. He stared down the gilded gates of Snob Alley before them. "Go ahead, write your letter to Baurus. In the meantime I'll see what I can find out about this Dunmer whose got the count's brains up his backside."

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Feb 13 2013, 03:32 AM

[Colonel Mustard]

Instead every part of the weapon was the same flat shade of black. It seemed to devour all illumination cast upon it, as if it was a sightless pit formed into the shape of a sword

Quoted for the awesome imagery. Superb description of Umbra there.

So, this Dark Elf fellow believes the trouble may be elsewhere, eh? I'm curious as to whether he genuinely believes this to be a plot from the smugglers or whether he's another agent for the saem Big Bad that Jalbert works for.

[McBadgere]

Superb description of Umbra there.

Of course it was!!...Cheers matey...I knew the sword was something important...

"Based upon what?" Now the count leaned back on his throne and scoffed. "The ramblings of some half-breed bark-biter? The insistence of a commoner booted from Imperial Legion, and then booted again from champion of the thugs guild?"

Ooof!!.. ...Ouchie...That's not nice...I no likee him...

That was a brilliant description of the count's hall, and, indeed, the count...Really brings to life the git he was in the MQ...And Grima Drels was suitably creepy...Definately looking forward to seeing him swinging from the nearest tree getting his handed to him... ...

Brilliant stuff, as ever...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Acadian]

Courtly intrigue!

‘Around them stretched out the great hall of Castle Bravil. Its ceiling floated high overhead, and the stone walls supporting it were pierced by clerestories that filled the room with the wan light of the autumn sun. Adding to the illumination were numerous wall sconces holding bright glowstones, chasing away the shadows that tried to pool around the two rows of pillars that ran the length of the chamber.’
A fabulous depiction of the great hall. And followed by an equally effective display of His Pompousness himself!

Red did a good job of not spinning into the lofty ceiling. She has learned, sometimes painfully, when to pick her fights. As a holder of the Grass Crown though, I see Pappy flirted right up to the edge. He is wise, but the wonderful temper that has generated more than one job change for him was on display here!

I’m torn as to whether the Count is being duped. . . or more likely that he is perhaps fully in on whatever is going on. I look forward to finding out!

Regardless, it seems true that this Drels fellow is indeed sprinkling a load of imp chips to cover something up.

[King Coin]

Bravil’s court. I’m with Teresa, nowhere I would want to be.

The count has a very unique weapon, one that I did not expect from such a lazy ruler. Then again, he was a gladiator, wasn’t he?

"What the fetch are you babbling about Terentius?"
I think only the Grass Crown allows Pappy to be so blunt! Glad to see he takes full advantage of it!

The Blades? I wouldn’t think they would be very interested in this, would they? Wow I kind of forgot they were emperor-less. Their self-appointed role is kind of scary.

[mALX]

*

Gotta agree with Mustard on that being an AWESOME description of the blade! I wasn't even thinking of it being Umbra, but just floored by the description itself!

Holy Cow! You are shaking things up with this chapter! Drels - know for a fact he is whispering some lie - and most likely to cover his own butt. He must be in it up to his eyeballs, lol.

The Count is paranoid, (how Drels got his position there) - but I really am wondering about who he killed with that sword. Fathis? Gellius? GAAAAAH! Not Dro'Nahrahe!

This section was chilling, I've never forgotten what you said once about Baurus (and have never been sure if you were teasing about it):

"They scare me too sometimes Pappy," Teresa admitted. She remembered how Baurus had covered up her incarceration in the Imperial Prison. The Blades could rewrite history with the wave of a hand. She knew that they could erase people just as easily, as they did with the Mythic Dawn agent in Luther Broad's Boarding House. Without an emperor, they no longer answered to anyone. They were a law entirely unto themselves.

There is definitely a mystery going on here, I am agog to find out who the players are!

The very first time Pappy has ever been wrong about something:

In the meantime I'll see what I can find out about this Dunmer whose got the count's brains up his backside."

Terentius's brains were always in his butt hole, Drels just takes advantage of that.

Then again, I could be wrong. Drels may know who Terentius killed and be coercing him to comply with some scheme via blackmail.

OMG, I am so excited about this turn in the story!!!!!! You ROCK'd my world with this chapter, MORE !!!!! MORE !!!!! MORE !!!!!! ABSOLUTELY TOTALLY AWESOME WRITE !!!!!



*

This post has been edited by mALX: Feb 15 2013, 07:01 AM

[SubRosa]

Colonel Mustard: The count's sword is not Umbra. It is something completely original. We will be learning more about it at the end of this chapter. Good guess though, I can see where someone would think it was.


McBadgere: I was hoping that my portrayal of His Pompousness would resonate with everyone. Glad everyone hates him.


Acadian: The younger Pappy would have sailed right across that fine line and gotten into a fist-fight with the count! He has obviously mellowed out over the years of being busted down from one job to another. But he still can't keep his mouth completely shut can he? That is just his charm. At least Teresa is indeed learning to show more restraint than she used to.


King Coin: You are right, only that Grass Crown let Pappy get away with that much sass to a count. He is a genuine hero, and like the count, has friends on the Elder Council who look out for him. The count was not a gladiator, but a tournament champion. So once upon a time, he really was a man to be reckoned with. But you probably got to that part after you wrote that.

When Baurus tried to recruit Teresa, he did tell her to keep an eye out for threats, foreign and domestic. Even though they answer to no one but themselves now, The Blades are still the empire's spy organization. An attack upon an Imperial city is definitely something they want to be aware of.


mALX: Turns out you were right in not thinking it was Umbra. You are right in that the count killed someone close to him with it. Who should be evident at the end of the chapter. Everyone is right about Drels though! He is definitely up to no good.

You had me laughing about the count and where his brains usually are!


Previously On Teresa Of The Faint Smile: Our last episode found Teresa back in Bravil, and reporting her findings to the count along with Pappy. However, the count did not believe that it was the work of necromancers at all, but rather a plot by the Renrijra Krin rebels of Elsweyr. This idea seems to have been planted in his ear by his advisor Drels Theran. After a near confrontation between Pappy and the count, Teresa left with the guild commander, and they decided to contact The Blades for assistance.


Chapter 45.2 – Shadow Dancing

"So how does it feel to be a landowner?"

Teresa looked up from her grilled trout and smiled at Tadrose. The Dunmer was dressed in blue velvet stitched with cloth of gold. The vice-commander smiled back as Teresa reached out across the small table and took her hand. The wood elf's heart soared, and for a moment she forgot all about necromancers and Count Terentius.

"Wonderful," Teresa said. She wore her green velvet gown, in spite of how it revealed the scars that marred her shoulder. She tried not to think of how she looked, and instead just gloried in the feeling of the soft material against her skin. "It certainly took forever! I thought I was going to spend all day signing parchments at the temple. I can't wait until Simplicia sees it. She's always wanted a home in the country."

"See Teresa, you really can do anything!" Tadrose exclaimed. "So when do you plan to bring her down to see it?"

"I'd like to do it for Saturalia," Teresa murmured. She looked down at her plate and cut off a piece of trout that was slathered in butter and lemon sauce. Lifting it to her mouth, she took the time to savor the succulent fish before swallowing. Nerussa would be so pleased with her!

"But there's still so much work to do. Decimus has left it shut up for over a year. The roof needs new thatch, the beds need new mattresses, the whole thing has to be dusted and aired out. I just hope there aren't any rats…"

"Well we can help," Tadrose paused as she lifted a jumbo-sized fried shrimp to her mouth and took a bite. "My work in the forge is slowing down with the holidays coming up. So I will have time. I am sure Ancondil and some of the others would not mind pitching in to help either."

"So people don't expect to need swords and armor for Saturalia?" Teresa joked, and Tadrose chuckled softly. "Seriously though, thank you. I think tomorrow I will go out to Silverbridge and start with the cleaning. I have no idea how to put thatch on a roof though! I might have to pay one of the villagers to do it."

"Do you need money?" Tadrose asked. "I have plenty put aside in the temple. Whatever you need is yours."

"Oh I still have some leftover." Teresa sipped her glass of Tamika's. "Chance finally paid me back for his mace."

"You know you could have gotten a loan from the temple, instead of buying the house right out," Tadrose said. "That is how most people do it."

"Aye," Teresa bit her lip. "But I don't like the idea of owing them money. What if something happens, and I can't pay it? I don't want Simplicia to lose the house. Not after everything she's been through."

"She's lucky to have a daughter like you," Tadrose said as she sipped her own wine.

"I'm the lucky one." Teresa knew from the warmth spreading through her cheeks that she was blushing. "I don't know what would have happened to me without her…"

"This next song is dedicated to one of our hometown heroines, Teresa of the Faint Smile!"

Teresa's head picked up at the sound of her name. Looking across Silverhome On The Water's crowded dining room, she saw the bard on a small stage in the corner. He pointed to her, just in case anyone in the audience had not noticed. Then he set his fingers to his lute and launched into a song about her battle with the trolls outside the city's front gate. A song short on fact, and long on fancy.

Teresa stared down at what remained of her grilled trout and broasted potatoes while Varon Vamori extolled her virtues as a fearless warrior. Yet all she could see were the dead, unblinking eyes of Marius Helvius staring back at her. She remembered something that Tiber Septim had once said: "Glory only comes through sacrifice". She wondered how many sacrifices had created his empire? How many faces had he seen staring back at him, every night at dinner?

Tadrose's fingers intertwining with her own brought her back to Bravil. "Would you like to leave?" she asked. "We are almost finished anyhow."

Teresa nodded. She gingerly dabbed at her lips, being careful not to smear her makeup. In the meantime Tadrose dug into her coin purse, and left several silver drakes upon the table. The pair stood, and it seemed to Teresa that all of the eyes in the building were turned upon them. She was thankful for the gentle touch of Tadrose's fingers upon the small of her back as they walked to the door, and took a deep breath as they stepped into the chill night air.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to spoil dinner," Teresa sighed. "But I just hate hearing that song. I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but…"

"I understand," Tadrose murmured. The dark elf slid an arm around Teresa's waist, and the forester gladly leaned into the other woman.

"So how shall we entertain ourselves, my lady fair?" Teresa chased the frown from her face with an effort of will. She put on her best impression of an upper class Nibenean accent, and lifted her nose into the air. "Shall we be off to the theater?"

"I believe we shall!" Tadrose smiled at Teresa. "We had best make haste as well, for Pride and Prejudice is playing tonight."

Teresa restrained a giggle. They walked off down the street toward The Globe, and Teresa found herself having to step with care. The high-heeled court shoes that she wore did not like the cobblestones that Silver Avenue was paved with. Every time her heel stepped on the mortar between stones, she felt herself wobble. Still, she strode tall and proud down the street, just as she imagined Lady Scaurus would.

Teresa found that Tadrose had been correct. Even though it was still early, the theater was filling up quickly. They were obliged to take seats on one side of the auditorium, as all those directly opposite the stage had already been filled. Teresa never considered the dirt-floored area immediately before the stage, called 'the pit' by most. There were no seats there, and she was not about to spend the entire play standing in her high heels. Nor was she going to chance getting that dirt on her good clothes. Instead she counted herself lucky that they were able to find seats on the ground floor, rather than up in one of the two balconies. So it was just as well that they had left Silverhome early.

Teresa gazed out across the sea of people that crowded the theater. Every facet of society was represented. There were patricians and equites in silk and velvet, artisans and shopkeepers in fine linen, and finally working-class folk in threadbare wool and flax. She found herself wondering how many of those elaborately clad folk were truly wealthy, and how many were like herself, and wearing all of the money possessed? For in spite of what she had told Tadrose, buying Decimus Rabirius' old farmhouse in Silverbridge had nearly cost her last septim. If not for the money Chance had given her in repayment for Ncharcasti, she would have been remanless.

Teresa found that did not bother her however. She had lived just fine with far less than the money she currently possessed. Unlike before, she now knew that she could easily come by more. A few more contracts, or another ancestor statue, and she would be flush with gold again. Then she could treat Simplicia to all the things the old woman had never enjoyed before, such as fine clothes, jewelry, good food, and nights at the theater…

She reached out and took Tadrose's hand in her own. She could not believe how her life had changed during the last year. If only Emperor Uriel could see her now! "You have no idea what you can do." His voice rose up in her memory, like a dragon soaring into the night sky. Had he seen this? Had he ever imagined just how deeply her life would change because of him?

Teresa smiled faintly at the thought of the old Imperial. As Morcant had said during her tarot reading, she knew that he would always be her guiding star.

Soon the play began, and everything else fled from Teresa's mind. She delighted in seeing the tale she had read about being brought to life before her eyes. It seemed a bit rushed in parts, but she could not blame the theater company. It was a long book after all! By the ending, she could feel her heart soaring right alongside those of the characters. One look at Tadrose, and she knew that she had found her Euphemia Bennetus.

Tadrose took her time as they walked back toward the Fighters Guild. Teresa found she was in no hurry to return to the guild hall either, and clung to the slightly taller elf. It was now freezing outside, but Teresa had planned for that. Two frost resistance potions chased the worst of the cold away.

Teresa found their feet leading them back to Silverhome On The Water, and lifted an eyebrow at the other woman. "I thought we might stop for a drink," the Dunmer said. Teresa smiled faintly, and followed Tadrose into the inn. Now that it was later in the night, the common room had thinned out considerably. Tadrose walked to the bar, and spoke with the high elf there in tones too low for Teresa to hear. A moment later she returned with a bottle of Tamika's and two glasses.

Teresa was about to sit at the nearest table, when Tadrose smiled. "Why don't we take this upstairs?" she said. "I took the liberty of renting us a room for the night."

Teresa's eyebrow did more than lift, it practically tried to jump off her face. "Is that the only liberty you plan on taking tonight?" she breathed softly in Tadrose's ear. The Dunmer practically giggled. She led Teresa up the flight of stairs to the upper floor, where all of the rooms were. The Bosmer enjoyed the view as the other woman's body swished back and forth beneath her velvet gown, just inches away. She could not wait to get Tadrose alone in the room.

They stopped before one of the rooms, and Tadrose handed the bottle and long-stemmed glasses to Teresa. The Dunmer fished a key from her belt pouch and opened the door. Teresa found that the interior was already lit with the warm glow of numerous candles. A veritable carpet of rose petals spread out along the before them, leading to a wide bed draped in silk sheets.

Teresa gaped. Before she could say a word however, she felt Tadrose's arms sweep her off of her feet. Teresa could not contain a squeal of delight, and clung tightly to the bottle and glasses as the Dunmer carried her into the room. It took a little maneuvering for the armorer to push the door shut behind them. Then on only slightly wobbly feet she walked to the bed. Teresa imagined that the high-heels of Tadrose's own court shoes did not make things easy, but held her tongue lest she spoil the moment. A moment later Tadrose gently laid Teresa down upon the sheets, and followed a moment later.

"I love you Tadrose," Teresa smiled.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Feb 19 2013, 09:58 PM

[Acadian]

What a lovely interlude! There was an element of completing the circle here, led by the long dreamed of house for Simplicia in Silverbridge – less than an arrow’s flight from Bravil. I remember us discussing what to name the tiny settlement that was inspired by that house mod by the talented Emma.

So many wonderful touches that tug at memories like the bardic rendition of Teresa’s fight with those trolls and the resultant physical and emotional scars. And the ghost of Marius Helvius that, like Emperor Uriel Septim, still haunts our faint smiling heroine wood elf. Damn that Varon Vamori; he should have sung the Ballad of Button and the Bear! Perhaps that would have brought Teresa a faint smile instead of a tear.

Of course her guild will turn out the following day to help their fellow guildsmer set up house.

I absolutely loved the vision you created of Teresa, in her silks and heels - wobbling along the cobblestones, steadied by Tadrose.

And sly Tadrose with her plans to finish the evening! So much of what she did would not have been necessary to remove Teresa’s silks. . . but that is why it is so romantic.