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

[Remko]

Oh my... that was beautifulterribleawesomegruesome....
For someone who doesn't really like writing combat, can I just say you do it very empathically.

This post has been edited by Remko: Jun 18 2010, 05:17 PM

[Olen]

Well I'm caught up now and that was indeed excellent. The contrast between Teresa's detatched tone and Pappy's very much on the ground and gritty one kept both fresh and having Teresa get involved was a nice touch.

Thumbs up for realism too, and for brutality; the fighters are lasting about as long as would be likely. Developing them and the atmosphere before is certainly paying off now.

I can't wait to see this resolved.

[haute ecole rider]

The battle reaches a peak! And what an awesome peak it is! The view is magnificent from there.

I did spot a nit:

Giving the double-edged blade a viscous twist as he pulled it out.

Viscous refers to thick liquid (like syrup). I think vicious would be better in this context, it means brutal. Also, this sentence reads like a fragment. Maybe you meant to make it part of the one that follows, or like this: Giving the double-edged blade a vicious twist, he pulled it out.

But whoo, pure adrenaline! No one needs any of that overrated Redguard rush stuff - reading this segment is enough by itself!

[Destri Melarg]

This is simply damn good writing! I especially like the way that you depicted the deaths of Calva and Hirtuleius. One man dies while bravely shielding a comrade, the other dies suddenly from the arrow that you never see coming. I can’t think of a better commentary on the heat of battle than that.

[D.Foxy]

Hwut he said!

[Acadian]

The overall impact here of power, blood, tears was magnificent. Some of your very best - and that says alot! Now, you know I like Teresa doing chick stuff, but my goodness, this was great!

Some little bits that stood out:

The Fighters Guild, she realized, having seen that symbol before on their guild hall in the Arena District.

Indeed, it makes all the sense in the world that the guild would have a hall in the IC and where better there than the Arena District?

"On your belly mortal!" The dremora's voice was like razorblades scraping across steel plate.

Oh, this makes my teeth hurt so good. Wonderful!

Teresa poured on all the speed she could muster from her ebon wings and swooped down upon the pair. Opening her beak, she blasted forth the loudest cry of warning that her avian lungs could call up.
* * *
Pappy did not know what made him turn, pure luck, some sixth sense of danger, or perhaps even the intervention of the gods.

Magnificent, or jaw dropping (take your choice) are the only words that will do for this transition!

A nit, maybe?

That surprised her, for she would have expected the Martin to be in command.

Did you mean to refer to him as 'the Martin'? I guess I can see that perhaps, but I suspect an earler draft may have said 'the Emperor' and you changed it to Martin, overlooking the 'the'?

[SubRosa]

D.Foxy: Thank you Fox. Pappy's throw was a Judo move that I found a video to. Of course now I have forgotten the name! Vincent's was a pretty standard trip. Just as in reality, I am sure grappling would be an important part of both legion and fighter's guild training.


Remko: Thank you Remko. I am one of those "less is more" kind of people. I prefer to keep things like fighting to a minimum, so that when it does happen it carries more impact.


Olen: Thank you Olen. I am glad the switching between distant and up-close povs is working.


haute ecoleboros: Thank you h.e.o. Thank you for the serpentine eye. You were quite right on both counts.


Destri Melarg: No more horn? Thank you Dest. I wanted to give Calva a heroic death so that he did not come across as a one-dimensional villain. While with Hirtuleius I wanted to show the pure randomness of death in gigantic battles.


Acadian: Thank you A. In the TF, the Arena district is where the low rent housing is in the IC (not counting the Waterfront, which is a pure ghetto and far worse.) With the Arena being there, it felt like a natural for the FG to have its headquarters nearby. Likewise, I figure that is where all the brothels are in the IC as well (prostitutes actually have a guild. I read about it in the History of the Fighter's Guild book in the game).

I am glad you liked that transition between Teresa and Pappy. I wanted to do something to give her some form of personal involvement in the battle, rather than having her being a purely neutral observer.

Good eye on that nit. You were exactly right, I had said "the Emperor" in a previous edit.


All: Now the thrilling conclusion to the Battle of Bruma, which I believe includes the coolest entrance I have ever written in the TF.

* * *

Chapter 10j - The Battle Of Bruma

The sound of hooves came to Teresa's raven ears, drawing her attention from the fighters clustered about the Great Gate. Flying up to see better, she found that the heavy cavalry on the right had cleared the flank of dremora and reformed into a tight line facing north, directly at the exposed left side of the Daedric army.

With a blare of trumpets, the knights and mounted legionaries moved forward. First at a walk, but steadily picking up speed until they finally thundered across the field in a full charge. Those few who still had lances lowered them as they approached the Daedra. However, most raised swords, axes, and hammers in their armored fists instead.

They crashed into the exposed flank of the dremora and smashed it utterly. Continuing on, they pushed their way along the Daedric line, the infantrymen of the Fifth Legion now moving in beside them. The entire thing reminded Teresa of a carpet being slowly rolled up, and her heart leaped within the bounds of her avian chest.

Yet the sound of drums smothered her rising exultation. Now she saw those bands of dremora still behind the Oblivion army running forward, directly into the heavy cavalry. The flanking movement ground to a halt when it met the fresh dremora troops, and now both armies stood locked together in desperate combat.

Yet Teresa could see that it was the Daedra who had the upper hand. They still vastly outnumbered the Imperial host, and once again were slowly but surely pressing the humans back. It would take a miracle to save them now, Teresa glumly realized.

Now she saw that some of the officers behind the Imperial line rode forward and to the right. Winging her way in that direction, she found that it was the Blades, with the Emperor in the lead. He had taken up the great gold and red dragon banner and was waving it over his head as he spurred his horse into a gallop, leading it directly into the melee on the right.

"Stand with your Emperor!" she could hear him cry out as she swooped over him. "Stand with me friends!"

* * *

Pappy lifted one hand over his head, concentrating upon the image of a snarling troll in his mind. Gathering up his magicka into a tight spot within his fist, he opened his fingers and let it go. The white energy fell around him in a halo, and the pain of his wounds vanished behind it.

Looking about himself, he saw that Tadrose and Vincent were both battered and bleeding. They were not so lucky as he to have born under the sign of the Lord, he thought, and have the powerful healing ability it conferred. Still, they too used the healing spells they knew, imitating his motions, but having less dramatic results. Raminus was worst of all, laying unconscious between the trio with his head soaked in blood. Yet at least the magister's chest still rose and fell, unlike the rest of Pappy's guild.

Looking out across the heaps of Daedric corpses that surrounded them, the Imperial could make out those of his friends as well. Morning-Star, Corentin, Valerius, all lay dead with the others of his chapter. Only he, Tadrose, and Vincent were left. None of them had run, he thought, none and wavered. Not even Calva. All had given their lives without hesitation.

A strange noise came to his ears, like a grinding of metal upon metal, mixed in with the whoosh of flames, and the faint screaming of the dying. A shadow fell across the three fighters, and along with the others, Pappy looked up into the sky above them. Debouching itself from the Oblivion Gate behind them was the rounded end of what seemed like a metal pole. Except Pappy had never seen a pole that was twenty feet wide and bore rotating, jagged spikes along its length. A brilliant red-orange fire burned at the very tip of the protruding mass, as if were molten steel. As he watched, it slowly pushed farther and farther out of the gate, casting a long shadow beneath it.

Pappy did not need to be told what that was. The Daedric Siege Crawler. It could mean only one thing. Julian and her Blades and failed. This was the end.

"Well this is just great!" the guild commander heard Vincent exclaim beside him. "What's next? The damned Daedric Prince?"

"We've got to find a way to destroy that thing." Pappy breathed, tightening his fist around Hardrada's whalebone grip. Tadrose and Vincent stood at either of his shoulders, weapons also at the ready. Pappy felt his heart soar. There were no better people in the world, he thought proudly, no one better to die with.

Something happened to the gate then. The twin columns of stone that rose on either of its flanks began to groan and shudder. Cracks appeared through their lengths, and piece after piece broke off and fell into the center of the burning energy between them. Then each stone fang gave way completely, collapsing into the middle of the swirling mass of fire. Even the Siege Crawler shuddered and began to fall backward into the gate, its metal surface twisting and distorting where it touched the red light.

"Mara!" Pappy heard Tadrose murmur beside him.

The Great Gate collapsed into a bright point of light. Pappy was not sure what prompted him, but he turned and pulled his two companions away, throwing the three of them to the ground. There was a rush of heat overhead, and the entire world went bright red, even through his closed eyelids. The ground shook beneath them, and he felt himself thrown into the air.

When the world finally swam back into focus, Pappy found himself and the others at least twenty paces away from where the Great Gate had stood. Now the only thing left to mark its existence was the twisted and smoldering ruin of the front half of the Daedric Siege Crawler.

Standing beside it was Julian of Anvil, her white hair streaming out behind her. She held her katana in one hand, and clutched a gigantic orb close to her breast with the other. It seemed to be comprised of energy that constantly churned beneath her fingers, and made a noise that was a cross between the grinding of metal upon metal and the screeching of tortured souls.

* * *

Even from where she flew over the Emperor, Teresa could see the great gate collapse upon itself. The brilliant explosion that followed tossed her through the air, and she only barely managed to regain control of her wings before crashing to the ground. She saw the massed armies were staggered as well, and slowly rose to their feet to witness the same thing she did. The Great Gate had been destroyed!

At the Emperor's exhortations, the knights and legionaries renewed their attack upon the Daedra, who now faltered. Yet even now the dremora did not break, and after giving ground near the Emperor for long minutes, they slowly began to push back once more.

They were still not beaten, Teresa despaired, now flying behind the Daedric army to where the Great Gate had once stood. She saw only a handful of mortals remained within the ruins of the circle of stakes. Yet now there was one among them that she recognized. With her long white hair, she was easy to spot. Julian of Anvil, The Hero of Kvatch.

Where had she come from? Teresa wondered, and what was that strange, glowing sphere that she cradled in one arm?

Then a line of dust along the northern horizon caught her attention. As she turned in that direction, the sound of trumpets rang out from the same area. Swooping closer, Teresa could now see a line of horsemen in legionary armor riding nearer. Their dragon standards swept out in the wind behind them, and their lances glittered in the sun. Behind them came a long column of infantry, also at a run. There were thousands of them, Teresa saw, and they were charging directly into the rear of the Daedric army!

* * *

"Back to back!" Pappy cried. A group of at least thirty dremora was closing in on them. Probably drawn by the destruction of the gate, he imagined. "Julian, get in the center with Raminus!"

"I can fight!" the Redguard protested.

"We can't let them get their hands on that!" Pappy nodded at the Great Sigil Stone she cradled to her chest. "If they do, this is all for nothing."

With that the Redguard allowed the guild commander and the others to crowd in around her. A few moments later the first of the dremora were upon them. As ever, Hardrada served him well as it sundered even the best dremora armor under its Atmoran edge. Likewise, his combination of enchanted legion plate and orcish steel stood up to most of the Daedric blows. Most.

But he knew it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed. Already Vincent and Tadrose were faltering. It was only Julian's own katana licking out behind the two that saved them time and again. How long could they hold out? Pappy wondered.

The sound of thunder came to his ears, louder even than the din coming off the Great Sigil Stone. A moment later the ground began to tremble, and trumpets blasted nearby. Then a terrific crashing of metal on metal came to his ears, mixed in with the pounding of horse's hooves and screams of dremora.

"Kvatch! Kvatch! Kvatch!" came battlecries from all around, and the dremora were slaughtered in whirlwind of lances and swords. Horses galloped past in a blur, men in dark legion plate astride them. A great dragon standard came to a halt over their heads, silk windsock trailing out behind it in the breeze. Legio X was written across the plaque beneath the great, golden wyrm. The Tenth Legion had come at last!

* * *

Teresa watched from above as the heavy horsemen of the newly arrived Imperial Legion charged directly into the rear of the dremora, smashing their way clear through to the Imperial infantry opposite them in many places. Behind them came more legionaries on foot, screaming at the top of their lungs.

The Daedric host simply dissolved then. There was no other way to put it. What had moments before been an army, turned into a mob fleeing for the gateways that dotted the plain. The newly arrived legionary horse cut many down as they ran, as did their comrades on foot. The Imperials who had been on the field for the entire battle did not pursue however, most simply collapsed in what Teresa hoped was only exhaustion.

In the midst of it all she saw the figure of a woman, clad in the simple skirt and bodice of a peasant. Swooping lower, Teresa found that she was kneeling over the rent body of one of the Imperial foresters. Her hands clutched her face, and auburn hair flowed down in front of her, so Teresa could not make our her features. Not that she needed to.

Morcant had been right. Attius would never return.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Aug 19 2010, 03:31 AM

[ureniashtram]

Wow. Just.. wow. That, my dear SubRosa, is one of the best battle ever written!!!11one!!1

The intensity, hopelessness and details... You, ma'am, are awesome beyond words!

[haute ecole rider]

Well done!

Julian would hate how you made her seem so heroic! But I like it! If only we had a twirl emoticon here! I'll just have to settle for this:

But as Julian would say, the real heroes are the ones who died out there, holding the horde off from the Great Gate, as well as Pappy, Vincent, Tadrose and Raminus.

This segment was a properly written addition to a well-described epic battle. And in the end, Morcant finding Attius among the dead is also appropriate, though very saddening.

Loved this! (Natch)

[Olen]

A great conclusion to a very well written battle piece. I must confess to shying away from such things on grounds of how hard they are to write but you pulled all the stops out here and it works marvelously, the quickening changes of perspective built a good atmosphere too. The foreshadowed arrival of the tenth provides a convincing end to the battle and ties up that loose end.

It seems Morcant was right though, a good inclusion to show that though they won the cost was more than just numbers.

I can't remember whether you said we met the nave of swords (if I remember the card correctly) or not in this section but given the development they got I suspect we may meet the Bruma fighters' guild again.

And still you keep the hooks in deep, what's Teresa going to make of this when she comes round? And what is her part in events? So many questions, great stuff

This post has been edited by Olen: Jun 20 2010, 11:15 PM

[D.Foxy]

The technique and facts of battle - you didn't put a foot wrong.

The pace - perfect. Slow, steady, building up higher and higher until at the end the cavalry comes (literally) charging in...and how I LOVE the number! The TENTH! Ole Ceasar's favourite boys, BTW!

And in the end, the coda triste that ends all battles. Oh yes. Well and deeply written, my Rose. I know of no higher praise than that.

[Acadian]

I normally don't enjoy reading about organized large scale combat. Just a touch to close to home you know. The best I can hope for is a tragic bittersweet sadness at the loss of so many brave lives. Yet oddly, I enjoyed reading this, despite its tragedy that pulls at my heart with a familiar refrain. Testamony to the power of your skill, I'm sure.

And so ends this chapter. Thank you for gracing us with it and taking your time to lavish the necessary detail. The entire multi-part chapter was simply masterful. It is fitting that it end with your finest effort yet, my friend. Simply magnificent!

A question. When Pappy envisioned the snarling troll as he called forth his Lord birthsign special power, was that because trolls regenerate? Did I guess right?

This final installment adds a full measure of impact to the fact that Pappy's Bravil guild is devastated and must rebuild. I'm so glad at least those three survived.

What a wonderful touch to slam home the wide ranging impact of war by showing, first hand, the tragedy that was Morcant and Attius. Lives and loves lost. Simply one of a thousand such stories that day, but undiminished regardless.

As always, you portrayed Julian so true to her nature. I'm so proud of our Hero of Kvatch for closing that gate!

As for Teresa, I love her more than ever for gracefully embracing her important, but supporting role.


And finally, a possible nit?

Still, they too used the healing spells they knew, imitating him motions, but having less dramatic results.

I'm sure you meant 'his'.

[Remko]

*swallows chunk in throat* Wow.

[Destri Melarg]

Destri Melarg: No more horn?

The horn is officially dead. I finally got my old avatar back!!

Forget about the Waterfront, you should write a fan-fic just dealing with the men and women of the Bravil Fighter’s Guild. Set it to begin in the aftermath of this battle, and have Teresa appear intermittently as a supporting character. Pappy, Tadrose, and Vincent are extremely well-drawn characters and I think they deserve a story of their own.

This is my favorite line:

It seemed to be comprised of energy that constantly churned beneath her fingers, and made a noise that was a cross between the grinding of metal upon metal and the screeching of tortured souls.

Just a spectacular use of sound to give us imagery! Along with the heroic arrival of the Tenth that caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up, and the poignant image of Morcant grieving over the slain Attius! To quote Remko, Wow!

[SubRosa]

ureniashtram: Thank you U. I drew upon a great deal of real world battles to put it all together.


the worm hautocolos: thank you t.w.h. For a moment I thought you said "Julian would haute how I made her seem so heroic!" It just worked out that way, but Julian definitely bagged the award for Coolest Entrance in the TF. Pappy might remind her that while their work was done at the end of the battle, hers had just begun, as immediately afterward it was Julian who had to storm the halls of Paradise to reclaim the Amulet of Kings...


Olen: Thank you Olen. I was aiming for something really epic in scale, and spent quite a bit of time working out both movements of the battle, and the events with the Bravil FG. Now that it is all over I am so relieved!

That was the Knight of Swords you were thinking of. We will be seeing him next chapter, which is also named after him. After giving it some thought, Pappy would qualify as the King of Swords, and Tadrose the Queen (at least in relation to Teresa). Vincent the Joker


D.Foxy: Thank you D.F. The main reason I went with the Tenth was that one of the legions with that number had the nickname Fretensis - "The Legion of the Sea Straits". It seemed perfect for a Legion normally stationed in Vvardenfell.


Acadian: Thank you Acadian. I wanted the battle to be both exciting, but also feel tragic as well. I thought about not including the part with Attius' death at the end, as I already had the deaths of the Bravil FG. But I wanted to finish what I started in The Witch Of Lake Trasimene.

You are spot on about the symbol of the troll for Pappy's regeneration. People with the Lord birthsign are said to be Trollkin (and I had Pappy curse his Trollkin blood earlier when they got hit by the fireball), so I thought the image of a troll would be the perfect thing to picture when using the Lord's healing power.

I am so glad I included Julian in the TF. She has really taken on a big role, and is filling the shoes of the Hero of Kvatch/Bruma very nicely. I doubt a character I created myself would grab hold of people nearly as well. Something I can only thank haute for, as the work she has done making Julian come alive in Old Habits follows her here.

And yes on the nit, well spotted!


Remko: Thank you Rem.


Destri Melarg: Thank you Dest. You know, the picture your new avatar is from is one of my favorite ones in the game. I wanted Chance to look like that, but I am just awful at making male faces in the game. Then when I found that shirt and vest he is wearing are not in the game, I was completely devastated.

Now you are giving me ideas about writing the Bravil FG. For the past few weeks I have been trying to imagine what it would be like for Pappy, et al. when they came back from Bruma. Having to tell all their comrade's loved ones what happened would be crushing. Then having to walk through that big, empty building that was once so filled with life (and strife!). Talk about soul-crushing.

Maybe I will write a chapter about it after all. I do have some ideas about the immediate aftermath of the battle. I know Pappy and the others would have gathered together their dead and buried them. Beforehand Pappy would have gotten the best hairdresser in Bruma to fix up Seridwe's hair (a promise is a promise after all). Then they would have taken all of their gear, and whatever loot they could carry, back to Bravil to give to their next of kin. The closest thing the FG would have to a Widows and Orphans fund. I know within a few weeks of the battle Tadrose would have been offered command of the Chorrol guild, and refused it.


All: I have been feeling a little burned out on writing since finishing this chapter, so I have not done much work on Chapter 11. Instead I have mostly been reading history, watching Daria, and playing Oblivion. It is one of the old chapters, but is one I am doing extensive revising to add more material. It has already doubled in size, and I am nowhere near getting it to where I want it. I am definitely getting long-winded in my old age... In any case, it might be a while before I post more Teresa.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jun 22 2010, 04:01 AM

[haute ecole rider]

Take your time.

Chapter 10 was one of the most intense chapters I have ever read, and I know you put a lot of time in on it. I can imagine you really need to sit back and recharge your batteries.

I can't speak for others, but I will wait patiently for Teresa to return. I'm sure when she does, it will be better yet! We all need to take a break from our stories from time to time, I know all too well. Come back when you're fresh, good and ready.

In the meantime, don't forget to read our stuff and comment! Your insight is invaluable not only to me, but to other writers as well!

[Acadian]

If you're going to take a break, this point in your story is the perfect place to do it. After all, you have been maintaining quite the pace. Take the time you need, and of course we'll all be here for you.

[Destri Melarg]

I know exactly what you are going through. I have been feeling much the same way myself which is why I have not posted more in my own thread lately. I love your ideas for the Bravil Fighters Guild story! Maybe writing a chapter or two of that will help start the flow of creative juices again. Like the others said, we will all wait patiently while you recharge.

[SubRosa]

I got inspired Thursday and finished the first draft Chapter 11 in a marathon session of writing (I can sit for 7-8 hours writing when I get worked up, the same happened with Chapter 10). I just finished the fourth draft, so I may as well start posting. This was originally the first chapter of Moving Through Darkness. It has received a major face lift, going from 4,500 words to 12,000 and change.

Next, Teresa finally returns to the Imperial City after her long sojourn into the wilds. Some of you might recognize the street names I used.

* * *

Chapter 11a - The Knight of Swords

29th Midyear, 3E433

The towering grey walls of the Imperial City loomed above Teresa as she made her way up the hill upon which the metropolis was built. Beyond the great bulwark, the tall, slender spire of White Gold Tower floated high in the summer sky, seeming to nearly reach clouds themselves.

The pavestones of the road were hard beneath the Bosmer's feet. Rather than going directly up the hill, the road curled alongside it, gradually rising as it turned widdershins along the circular outer wall of the city. She imagined that the gentle slope made it easier for the many wagons and carts that she passed. Loaded down with goods, they went both to and from the city on the wide avenue.

Pausing to look back the way she had come, Teresa had to shield her eyes from the glare of the morning sun. Mile after mile of farms and pastures stretched away to the horizon, a jumble of golden and green fields of all sizes and shapes set across the landscape like some board game created by the mad god Sheogorath.

Somewhere beyond was Lake Rumare, the forester thought, and the ferry that she had taken across it. She imagined that the crew were still talking about her. So far as they had been able to tell she had fainted and remained unconscious for the entire trip across. She had seen no reason to tell them anything different. Telling people that she had seen a battle taking place hundreds of miles away as a bird did not strike her as a good idea…

Her eye picked out a rider among the traffic coming up the road below her who was different from the others. He wore the dragon tunic of the Imperial Legion, just like the riders she had seen on the road from Cheydinhal. He raced his horse past carts and pedestrians alike as he hastily made his way up the winding road. As he came nearer, she saw that he was a young Imperial with a face drawn by weariness and covered in dust. Yet he did not slow his horse as he bolted past her, and by then she could see that the sides of his mount were gleaming with sweat.

He must have been riding hard for some time, Teresa found herself thinking. What message might he have that was so important? she wondered. The news of the victory at Bruma perhaps? and the strange orb that Julian of Anvil had somehow taken from the destroyed Great Gate?

No one on the road had spoken of either during the wood elf's journey from the ferry at Sideways. It was a strange feeling, knowing something that no one else did. Yet Teresa had kept the knowledge to herself, again thinking of having to explain how she learned it.

Readjusting the sacks of Vilverin's loot she had slung over one shoulder, and the oval body shield of elven design hanging from the other, Teresa turned back to the city above and trudged on with everyone else on the road. In time she came to the Market Gate, its tall bronze portals long turned green with verdigris.

Only a single legionary stood guard at the gateway, which struck Teresa as being odd. Usually there were at least two on each side. Then she realized that most of them must still be at Bruma. It would probably take them at least a week to return. Methredhel must be enjoying that, she found herself thinking with a faint smile.

She could not stop her gaze from wandering to the Imperial Prison. Standing directly across from the Market Gate, it sat on a separate hill from the rest of the city. The only way to reach it was a wide, stone bridge that spanned the gap between it and the city hill. Perhaps it was all in her mind, but its grey stone walls looked more forbidding than those surrounding the city. Or maybe it was the old corpses of murderers hanging from the gibbet outside its entrance. She saw several new crosses there as well, supporting much fresher bodies wearing red robes.

She knew those robes all too well. They were exactly the same as those worn by the Emperor's assassins. Mythic Dawn agents! Where she normally felt pity for the poor wretches executed outside the prison, Teresa could not muster up the slightest ounce of feeling for them. She only hoped that they took a long time to die.

Turning back to the Market Gate, she found the legionary there eyeing her as she approached, even through the crowds of people who were always bustling into and out of the Market District. She did not know if it was her bandit-style hide armor, or the big sacks she carried, or perhaps even her flame red hair that caught his eye. In any case, she met the bull by the horns and strode directly to him.

"Do you know what day it is?" she asked. "I have been in the forest for a long time."

"It's Mondas ma'am," the soldier replied, looking her up and down. "The 28th of Midyear. So you're a woodsrunner then?"

"Yes," Teresa replied evenly. "I harvest alchemical supplies."

"Is that what you got there?" the Imperial looked at the shield on her shoulder, and the large bags she carried.

"No, I found this in Vilverin." Teresa said. "Most of it belonged to some bandits, before a necromancer killed them all."

"Good riddance to bad rubbish then." The legionary leaned over to spit on the pavement. His eye turned away from her, and back to the other people streaming to and from the city.

Teresa nodded, and continued on her way into the city. She had no doubt that a few months ago he would have said the same of her. All the Imperial Legion had, along with most other people in the city.

Her thoughts turned from that as she pushed her way into the bustling streets. Even as wide as the main boulevard from the gate was, it was packed with horses, wagons, and people, all shoving or dodging one another to get by. There were elegant patricians in their velvet and jewels, flanked by servants in fine linens and the occasional mail-clad bodyguard. Contrasting them were beggars and other proles in ragged sackcloth and patchwork flax. In between were ordinary working folk in worn flax and linen, and shopkeepers and artisans in slightly better fare.

The smell filled her nostrils. Human and animal sweat, mixed in with the stink of horse manure and the effluvium of garbage. After so many weeks in the wilderness, she could not keep the sour expression from her face as she breathed in the stench of so many people crowded in so close together.

They need to build more bathhouses, she thought to herself as she pushed her way through the crowds down Commerce Street to where it intersected with Market Way. There she paused to scan the crowds. She knew that this was Simplicia's favorite spot to beg, as nearly everyone coming into and out of the eastern half of the city passed through this crossroads.

Screenshot

Not seeing the old Imperial woman in the crowds, Teresa turned to her right, making her way northwest along Market Way. The largest boulevard that arced through the district, even it was packed with throngs going into and out of the many arcades and small squares along its length. Finally, in the same arcade that housed The Gilded Carafe, she spotted the aging woman.

"Simplicia!" Teresa could not restrain a shout as she picked up her pace, dodging past a cart loaded with pottery to reach the arcade. Once in the cool shade under the archways the forester slowed down, and she saw the old woman rise from where she had been sitting against the insula wall.

The beggar wore a patchwork dress of green flax that looked ready to fall apart at any moment. Her face was lined and wrinkled like old leather, and the dirty hair that spilled down her head was as dingy and grey as the stone wall behind her. Yet to Teresa's eyes, there was no more beautiful sight in the world.

Screenshot

Dropping her loot with a clatter, the young Bosmer wrapped her arms around the much older woman. All of her worries slipped away as Simplicia held her close. It was as if she has stepped out of the world for a moment, and into a land where nothing else mattered.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 01:53 AM

[Acadian]

What a pleasure this was!

I know that the big city is the BIG city in TF and you did justice to the scale you intend.

I loved how you brought her 'flight of the raven' into perspective and tied it in with her ride on the ferry after Vilverin. Good choice, Teresa, in deciding not to try and explain that! This was very tightly wrapped into what has come before.

Your description of the IC was great. For Teresa, with all her recent time in the forest, the normal smells of the city must have seemed quite the assault on her nostrils - well done.

The familiar and the not so familiar, comfortably interwoven with great skill: The stone bridges and walls, the Imperial prison, Methredhel, Simplica - - yet laced with brilliantly new and creative touches including crucifixion / impaling of mythic dawn agents and ferry service across Lake Rumare.

As always, this was wonderfully done.