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

[D.Foxy]

Once again I meet an old friend in the words that entranced me when I read them the first time.

Yep. That's our Vols all right.

And you may remember, Rosa, that it was THEN that your readership rose up in a body and demanded more and more of Mr. Vols!!!

[Acadian]

How wonderfully 'mystical' that Teresa knew Martin was dead - perfectly done! In fact I very much enjoy the things you incorporate from mystical sources like her raven spirit, what she learned from Morcant etc. Let me put in a request to see more of Morcant at some point. I love that her influence on Teresa seems to be enduring.

This whole segment/chapter taking place in the Imperial City was very, very neat.

Simplicia had taught her to read by using them in fact.

This little optional touch flowed perfectly from what preceded it. A lovely glimpse into a detail of Teresa's youth. It helps make her so very real. I'm so glad you put this in.

. . . one that had saved her life more than once with no thought to what it had cost him.

What a perfect touch you have here - powerful enough to bring a tear.
Volsinius captures, for me, every one of those Legion soldiers in the game who has saved us from wolves, lions or worse - sometimes losing their lives in the process.
Now. . . we absolutely must see more of Vols. Without making assumptions from the previous version of your story, I so hope you have plans for him.

[Olen]

The last two segments very much captured the essance of the calm after the storm and the initial attempts to pick things up. They're well told and round off both Teresa and Simplicia as characters.

Thinking of the piece as a whole that is very much what it was, a development and rounding and refining of Teresa in which she slowly but drastically changed and the influences around her which caused it. You certainly succeeded in that as I could point to no single turning point though I could easily see several large forces (Uriel Septim & Morcant spring to mind).

It also developed the setting well, you took the game world and, after making some major tweaks, made it into a living breathing entity in which to write. The extra detail which wouldn't fit in game fleshes tings out and I'd go as far as to say adds to the gameplay itself.

My main (only?) criticism would be over plot, though that is a matter of taste and probably just me being male. It was exceptionally character driven and worked well for it but in my opinion it would have been nice were she to have been more than a casual observer (or had some other drive, though in many ways her drive being finding herself worked well).

Anyway an enjoyable piece and I await with interest to see what you produce next.

[haute ecole rider]

This segment is even better than the way I remember it - you have explored Teresa's mixed feelings about Vols and her determination to save his life in spite of his past treatment of her very well.

And yes, Acadian is right, this is when your readers rose up as one and demanded more of Vols previously. I do hope that we will still see more of him.

[SubRosa]

All: I went back and put in pics of Jensine and Gelephor in Chapter 11c.

D.Foxy: Thank you foxy. More Vols in the future.


Acadian: Thank You Acadian. The reason for Teresa hearing Martin's voice will be made clear in a few segments, when she learns that one other person heard it as well.

There will be more Morcant sometime in the near future. But first Teresa has some things closer to home to sort out before she can see her Witch mentor.

You have skewered my intentions exactly with Vols. He is meant to symbolize the Imperial Legion as a whole. For better and for worse. He certainly does in Teresa's eye, and plays a major role in her feelings toward soldiers.


Olen: Thank you Olen. You might say that the last chapter completed Teresa's first story arc, whose main goal on my part was simply to establish a baseline for who she is. Starting with this chapter a new arc will begin that will see even more changes on her part, as she begins to finally truly live her life.

You are correct that ever since Teresa left Weynon, there has been no single, overreaching plot. In the original TF on the Bethesda I split it up into more self-contained stories. But that left gaps between where a lot did happen. When I came over here to Chorrol I decided to do away with that, and simply tell her tale from the beginning to as far as it goes. As Acadian once said about the BF, think of it as a tv show rather than a movie.

I do have story arcs plotted out, with definite beginning, middle, and ends, along with clear goals. What some of them are may not be clear until they have developed for a while, and a few will be simultaneous. In fact, one begins this chapter. As ever though, character development remains my focus. So things that are important to Teresa will be seen as well, whether or not they fit into one of the arcs.


haute ecole rider: Thank you haute. Teresa's feelings toward Volsinius are still very mixed, and probably will be for some time.


Next: Teresa and Simplicia must pick up the pieces at Jensine's, and Teresa receives a proposition that will come to change her life.


* * *

Chapter 12.1- Aftermath

30th Midyear, 3E433

"Well, it looks like we finally got all the blood out," Simplicia sighed, wiping the dampness from her brow with her forearm. She dropped the stiff brush and rags that she held into the bucket of soapy water beside her, and slowly rose to her feet with a popping of old joints.

"I never thought it would get clean," Teresa replied, still kneeling on the floor next to the aging Imperial woman. Her armor ruined, she now wore a simple linen tunic and drawsting pants that she had found in Jensine's storeroom. "It's hard to believe that just yesterday this place was a wreck."

The red-haired Bosmer looked across the bare public room of Jensine's 'Good As New' Merchandise. Thanks to her and Simplicia the bodies had all been taken away and either buried or burned, the broken furniture sold off for firewood, and the walls, floor, and even ceiling were now scrubbed free of blood and gore.

"It probably hasn't looked this good in years," Simplicia observed as she straightened the folds of her tattered green dress, "a little empty though."

"Too bad Jensine can't see it," Teresa said, glancing at the stairs leading to the second floor above. Jensine would not be getting out of bed for some time, she knew, given how bad her head wounds were. The thought made the forester turn to Simplicia and gently touch her graying hair.

"How are your legs?" the willowy Bosmer asked, biting her lower lip with care, "do they still hurt?"

"Oh you dote on me too much little one," the old woman replied with a smile, taking Teresa's hand in her own. "I'm fine. It'll take more than a few Daedra to put this old woman down!"

Teresa looked down at herself with a twinge of guilt. Her healing spell had sufficed to mend her own injuries. It had taken an eternity of her casting the spell over and over again, but in the end she felt fine. Yet she could not heal others with it, so there had been nothing she could do for Jensine or Simplicia.

Teresa wondered how Volsinius was doing? The Imperial Legion had come during the night to take him away, what was left of him at least. He was in good hands with them, she knew. But after the terrible injuries he had suffered, it was difficult for Teresa to imagine him ever truly recovering.

"Why don't we take a break for a while?" the wood elf said, "then we can bring stuff up from the storeroom downstairs and start making this place look like a shop again. Maybe we could take off the basement door and move it here to the front of the shop, so it's not wide open anymore. We should probably check in on Jensine upstairs too. She might be getting hungry by now."

"It feels so strange to be working again!" Simplicia exclaimed as she plodded over to the stairway leading to Jensine's living quarters above.

Years of suffering from stonejoint had done terrible harm to the old woman's joints, Teresa thought as she watched the Imperial shuffle across the floor. She had cured her once she had learned how to create the right potion. But by then the damage had already been done, and there was no curing that. That was why everyone called her Simplicia the Slow.

Teresa snapped herself from her thoughts and went to the back of the shop where a pitcher of goat's milk and several porcelain cups sat on the floor. She poured them each a cup and met Simplicia at the stairs as the old woman sat down on one of the steps. With every chair in the shop destroyed during yesterday's fighting, it was the only place to sit.

"Well, I think you are going to have to get used to it old girl," Teresa said with a faint smile as she sat next to the beggar and took a sip from her own cup, "Jensine is going to be laid up for a long time, and she is going to need someone to run this place, not to mention look after her."

"Do you think she would pay me for that?" Simplicia's eyes widened with something that Teresa had not seen in them for the longest time, hope. "She said she would pay us to clean up the shop, but never anything about staying around."

"I don't see why not. She used to have Gelephor stock shelves for her, and now he's…" Teresa did not finish her sentence, glancing across the room to the spot on the floor where the man had died. Swallowing hard, she looked back to the old woman beside her. "And you see how Jensine is now. She can't even get out of bed. There aren't enough healing potions or healers to go around to fix her. It'll be a long time before she's on her feet again."

"Well here is to us then," Simplicia said with a smile, holding her cup up in a toast, "honest women both of us. Who would have imagined it?"

The young Bosmer clinked her own cup against the old Imperial's with a faint smile and drank down the thick, warm liquid. The taste brought back memories of childhood. Simplicia had always insisted that she drink milk, claiming it was healthy, and relegated herself to nothing but water so that Teresa could have it all. Only when she had grown much older had the forester realized that Simplicia had often been going without anything to eat as well, just to make sure Teresa had enough.

With that thought Teresa put her arm around Simplicia's waist and held her close. Laying her head on the old woman's shoulder, she closed her eyes and wished she could take her away from the city to somewhere better.

* * *

The sound of someone knocking on the doorframe brought Teresa's head up with a start. Standing in the open entrance to the shop was the tallest Altmer that the forester had ever seen, quite an accomplishment for a race that was naturally lofty to begin with. In fact, Teresa was sure she had never seen anyone as tall as him in her life. The blue velvet clothing he wore said that he was money, and Teresa wondered if he had chosen the color on purpose to complement his short, flaxen hair.

"Excuse the disturbance my ladies," he said in a deep voice while his amber eyes settled upon Teresa, "I am looking for a Bosmer woman, an explorer of some ability named Teresa. Might I have discovered her?"

"Maybe," Simplicia spoke up in a wary tone as Teresa was trying to phrase an answer, "who's looking for her?"

"Please excuse my presumption and allow me to introduce myself." The Altmer man stepped further into the shop and bowed. "I am Lurkos, the personal assistant of Lord Umbacano. My Lord has a business proposition he would like to discuss with the aforementioned Teresa. I have been apprised that she sometimes performs business transactions here? Would one of you be the owner of this fine establishment perhaps?"

"No," Teresa said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable at the towering man's polished manners and speech. He was certainly money, she thought, and people with money did not go looking for people without it, unless they wanted some dirty business done. With that in mind she stood and fixed the symbol for her Flare spell in her mind. "Jensine's laid up right now. I'm Teresa. Who told you I was here, and why are you looking for me?"

"I believe you sold a rare and curious item of Ayleid origin to an entrepreneur residing in Cheydinhal, a woman named Borba gra-Uzgash?" said Lurkos, "if I am mistaken, then please accept my apologies for disturbing you, and I will bid you a good day."

"You mean the welkynd stones?" Teresa bit her lower lip as she searched her memory. The only Ayleid artifacts she had ever sold - or ever seen for that matter - were the ones she found in Vilverin. That had been weeks ago, she thought, and she had indeed sold it all to an orc in Cheydinhal.

"Oh no, my Lord already possess a multitude of welkynd stones," the towering Altmer explained. "This was something far more unique."

What else had she found there? Teresa ruminated. The books of the necromancer? Or the lighter weapons of the bandits? Then she had it.

"That funny statue?"

"Yes indeed, the Ancestor," said the Altmer. "My Lord Umbacano is a collector of such rare antiquities, and is interested in your services."

"What's this about ancestors and Ayleids?" Simplica rose to her feet, laying a hand on Teresa's arm, "you never said anything about Ayleids. You haven't been poking around those ruins have you?"

"It wasn't like that." Well, yes it was, Teresa thought as she turned to face the old woman. "I was just exploring and I found it."

"Found it!" Simplicia exclaimed, "no one just finds Ayleid dreck! You said you wouldn't go around those places. They're all cursed by the gods, and anyone who puts their nose in them is likely to be cursed too!"

"There was no one in it," Teresa bit her lip again. No one alive at least, she thought, except for the necromancer who she was not about to mention. "It was really nothing at all."

"If I have come at a bad time I can return at a later hour," the Altmer said, looking distinctly uncomfortable to be witness to their squabble.

"It's a bad time," Simplicia insisted, lurching across the floor in the Altmer's direction, "don't ever come back!"

"Simplicia!" Teresa tugged on the old woman's arm to stop her and whispered in her ear, "this could mean good money for me!"

"What good is money if you are dead?" Simplicia said in a loud voice as she turned to look at the wood elf, "if it were safe, that butler would go get it himself. He's only hiring you because he doesn't want to get killed."

"Just have faith in me for once!" Teresa raised her voice, "I can't spend the rest of my life running and hiding!"

"I never said..." Simplicia's words trailed off as Teresa bounded across the room to the open doorway. The Altmer man was already gone, and Teresa did not see the beggar slump her shoulders in defeat behind her as she scurried out into the street.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 01:59 AM

[D.Foxy]

Yes, I feel for Simplica. Love IS hard.

[haute ecole rider]

Aye, poor Simplicia. She nearly lost her foster-daughter in a recent event where so many friends and neighbors have died. Now she is learning to what extent her beloved Teresa has matured and developed in her own direction. Scary thought for any mother (just ask mine!).

I really liked how you showed the struggle to return to normalcy after the crisis - how the damage has affected everyone. That is something Beth really fell down on. While the fires burn eternally in Kvatch and the Mages Guild, all we see of the Crisis itself are a few broken pavement-stones in the Temple District. Your depiction of the aftermath is so much more realistic, as are the actions of the characters afterwards.

[Acadian]

What a joy to tune in for another episode of the Teresa show.

As always, I love your rich interaction between characters that is so natural, yet yields so much insight into their character. Yay! You kept Lurch! As soon as the very tall Almer came into the store, I smiled. I'm also very glad to realize that hopefully Jensine will be ok. She's a nice Nord and runs a clean, fair shop. Every girl needs some trademarks; I love that Teresa has her characteristic faint smile and bites her lower lip when troubled - may she never lose those endearing habits.

"if it were safe, that butler would go get it himself. He's only hiring you because he doesn't want to get killed."

Certainly can't fault Simplicia's wisdom or logic here.

"Just have faith in me for once!" Teresa raised her voice, "I can't spend the rest of my life running and hiding!"

"I never said..." Simplicia's words trailed off as Teresa bounded across the room to the open doorway. The Altmer man was already gone, and Teresa did not see the beggar slump her shoulders in defeat behind her as she scurried out into the street.

Oooh! What a wonderful way to end here.

Nit:

"How are you legs?" the willowy Bosmer asked,

I'm sure you mean 'your'.

[Destri Melarg]

Teresa is beginning to display the hallmarks of a psijic initiate. Her dream flights, precognition, hearing voices that others can’t. Acadian is right, she seems to have a natural affinity to mysticism (at least what I imagine mysticism to be).

Hooray, some of my armor did survive! All you have to do, Teresa, is walk out of Jensine’s store and hang a right. Head to The Best Defense (mind you don’t trip over the daedra), Gin-Wulm will fix that right up for you.

And who is this Lurkos? I prefer Umbacano’s regular manservant, Jollring. Simplicia’s reaction was priceless. What is it about the need that we have to yell at those we love, not for what did happen, but for what might have happened?

[Olen]

Ah, this makes more sense... When you called the part prior to last the epilogue I thought the story finished there rather than just that 'arc'. Now all makes far more sense, and it follows the aftermath of the crisis, that should be most interesting and enjoyable given the depth you've already given the world.

And the next arc is introduced. More running round Ayleid ruins sounds great to me, even if Simplicia is characteristically alarmed by the idea. It's nice to see you developing Simplicia too, makes me wonder how having a job will change her.

I'm looking forward to some statue hunting.

[SubRosa]

D.Foxy: That it is. Thank you Fox.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.o. You and Foxy have both hit upon something that I have been making an effort to better portray in the TF 2.0 - the natural conflict between a parent who wants their child to be safe, and the teen who is growing into their own life. The latter is only exacerbated by the fact that Teresa's new life is a dangerous one, and Simplicia has issues of her own that make her worry more that the usual person might.

Plenty more of the Aftermath in the next few chapters. The devastation of the Oblivion Crisis, and the hard work of picking up the pieces afterward, are one of the things I want to portray.


Acadian: You rang? Yes indeed, Jensine will be back, and ought to be appearing in future chapters, although she will never be the woman she once was. I did manage to work in both of Teresa's trademarks in that last segment didn't I? She writes so easily that the little personal touches like that flow out quite naturally.

Thank you for wrangling up my missing "r" there as well.


Destri Melarg: I'd say that you are giving Teresa a little too much credit. While she has learned to follow her spirit guide, that is not something truly remarkable from a society where everyone has one (or has some other strong spiritual path). You are mistaking her with Morcant when it comes to precognition, and the reason for her hearing Martin's voice will be made clear later in this chapter, when we will learn that another person did as well.

You will not find any round-ears in Umbacano's employ. Why will eventually be clear, although not until sometime in the distant future.


Olen: Teresa will indeed be doing some ruin-diving. But like Buffy, she tends to get distracted by shiny things. Umbacano's mission will provide the motivation for a major shift in the setting in the future however (which will provide Teresa with more shiny things to distract her of course!).


Next: On the next episode of the Teresa Show, our intrepid forester learns just how eccentric the wealthy can be.

* * *

Chapter 12.2- Aftermath

Lurkos had not gotten far down the main boulevard that cut through the Market District however, and Teresa's quick feet were able to catch up to him in moments. For all his imposing height, the Altmer man moved quite slowly, as if he were deliberately choosing each step before he took it. Or if he were waiting for Teresa to catch up to him…

"So tell me more about your boss," the forester said, smoothing down the linen tunic she wore. "Why does he want these Ayleid statues so much?"

"My master is a man of great refinement and scholarly achievement," Lurkos replied without turning his head to look at her. "The Ayleids are of a particular and most singular personal interest to him, as you will see."

The towering Altmer would say no more as he led Teresa through the streets of the Elven Gardens. This was the first time the wood elf had ventured beyond the Market District since the Daedra had attacked. Everywhere she looked her eyes were greeted with the same scenes however. Doors and windows were smashed, and dark stains from what she knew to be blood marred the streets and walls. People looked dazed, their clothing torn and bloody as they went about the work of rebuilding. Everyone was quiet and reserved, in mourning for the dead.

In time Lurkos brought her to the heart of the Talos Plaza District, where a statue of a roaring dragon loomed in the wide central square. The rim of the circular plaza was lined with great manors of stone that loomed high overhead, many decorated with large towers. Yet none were as grand as the spire of White Gold Tower which floated in the sky behind them.

This place seemed barely disturbed, Teresa thought. There were no broken windows or doors, although many of them appeared to be much newer than the stones in which they were set. There were still stains of blood in the streets, but as she looked on people clad in simple working clothes were busy scrubbing them away.

Lurkos did not pause as he led Teresa through the plaza and directly to one of the manors. Producing a large key from one of his pockets as he reached the front door, he deftly inserted it into the lock and opened it with a clanking of mighty tumblers. That one must be quite a challenge to pick, Teresa could not help but to think as he motioned her inside.

The room within was nothing short of magnificent. The walls were hung with velvet and brocade tapestries, and the stone floors covered with thick, soft carpets. Display cases lined the walls, revealing all manner of weapons, armor, gemstones, and even clothing, all of which looked very strange to Teresa's eyes, as if they were from some bygone era. Most stunning of all was the chandelier that hung from the center of the high vaulted ceiling. It was not lit by candles, but rather by large glowstones.

An Orisimer dressed in gleaming mithril armor and carrying an ornately carved arming sword stood beside the entrance, and a moment later Teresa noticed his partner at the other side of the door. Neither said a word to her, they merely stared with hard, cold eyes as Lurkos led her across the room and up the staircase to the second floor.

Teresa was not disappointed with the upper floor, whose hallway was lined with more silks and decorated with paintings of mighty, yet graceful, white buildings. Teresa had seen their kind before, yet never in one piece. They were Ayleid. She had seen their ruins as she explored the forest, and had been within the one at Vilverin. She wondered if the artifacts in the entry room below were also Ayleid?

The wood elf tried not to touch anything as she followed Lurkos through the mansion. It would be just her luck to knock over a vase that cost a fortune. Looking down at the simple linen clothing she wore, she was intensely aware of how out of place she looked. If only she had put together another suit of leather from the Vilverin loot, she thought to herself, at least then she would look the part of an intrepid explorer, rather than just some lowly plebian from the street.

Lurkos came to a mahogany door and knocked twice. After the muffled sound of a man's voice came from within, he pushed the door completely open and stepped inside, motioning Teresa to follow.

"My Lord Umbacano," he stated gravely, standing as if a legionary at attention, "I bring you the explorer Teresa as you desired."

Teresa found herself in a study that was decorated with the same opulence as the rest of the manor. The walls were lined with bookshelves inlaid with decorative leaves that she could swear were gold. Display cases hosted more strange artifacts, including several welkynd stones, and even a varla stone.

Her eyes quickly noticed a row of marble pedestals lining one wall, all but one of which were empty. Without thinking, she found herself walking into the room to look more closely at it. Upon it sat the same curious statue that she had discovered at the heart of Vilverin. Made of some white metal which she could not identify, it consisted of four needlelike spines that rose from a wide base. The four were linked by a series of horizontal spars to a fifth spine that hung in the center of the statue. That fifth spine was not comprised of the same metal as the rest of the statue, but rather seemed to be of purple crystal.

Clouds of energy swirled lazily within the depths of the crystal, much as she had seen within the heart of the Amulet of Kings. Only the statue did not give her the warm, comfortable feeling that the amulet had. Rather it felt cold and harsh, even when just looking at it now and not holding it in her hands. Teresa still had no idea what it was. She had taken it simply because it looked valuable.

"Ah yes, I have been so looking forward to this..." a man's voice snapped Teresa from her musings.

She turned to see an Altmer man dressed in brocade rising from a desk that was carved from rosewood and inlaid with gold and silver. He was tall, as all high elves were, although nowhere near the towering height of Lurkos. His soft brown hair was carefully sculpted into a peak at the top of his head, and his eyes seemed to be sparkling emeralds as they bored into her. What she really noticed was the paleness of his skin however, easily as white as her own.

"It is lovely is it not?" he said as he walked to her side and gestured at the statue, "one of the ten great Ancestors. All of my life I have longed to have one in my collection, and now thanks to you it is so."

"Ancestors?" Teresa asked, feeling more and more uncomfortable with every step he took closer to her. Given his eyes and skin, a part of her thought they might be siblings. His hair was even the same color as her own, before she had dyed it red at least. The only real difference was the fact that he was an Altmer and she a Bosmer. Yet in spite of their similarities, she had a nagging feeling of danger, as if she were walking across a bridge whose boards might give way at any moment.

"Yes. There were ten of them," he said smoothly, casually laying a hand on the small of Teresa's back. It took an extreme effort of will for her to restrain herself from jumping. Something about his touch made her feel like it were the hand of a scorpion, rather than a mer.

"They were created by the Ayleids long ago," he continued, turning to look in her eyes, "it was after the fall of the White Gold Tower and the sack of our beautiful city, but before the final conquests of the Alessian Order. They are objects of great artistic and historical value, like nothing else ever created. Some might say the Ancestors were the Ayleid's last, great working before leaving this world."

Teresa did not like the way he said 'our city', as if he were one of the Ayleids himself rather than an Altmer. Nor did she like the feeling of his hand, or the burning intensity in his green eyes. She stepped away to free herself from his touch, making a show of looking closer at the statue, and instantly felt better.

Had she imagined her unease? she wondered. No, she thought as she looked back at the Altmer. There was something not right about him, something very odd. Yet she could not put her finger on what it was, beyond his very obvious physical similarities with herself.

She shook her head. What was she thinking? she chided herself. So what if he was a little strange and never got out in the sun much? Everyone knew rich people were eccentric, she thought. It came from having all that money and nothing to do.

"I am so glad to finally meet you Teresa," the Altmer said behind her. "Ever since my purchasing agent in Cheydinhal discovered the Ancestor I have greatly desired to meet the adventurous individual who reclaimed it from the darkness of the past. You must be a very resourceful woman indeed."

"Your man Lurkos tells me that you have a business proposition for me?" she asked, thinking about all the money he plainly had, and trying not to look in his eyes.

"Why yes, yes indeed," Umbacano went on. "Given that you have clearly displayed yourself to be suited for the task, I would like for you to recover the remaining nine Ancestors and bring them to me. This is an errand I will compensate you most generously for."

"How generously?" Teresa asked, her eyes narrowing as she studied the man. Just how badly did he want these statues?

"One hundred gold septims for each Ancestor," he stated evenly.

"One hundred!" Teresa tried not to stammer. That was a thousand silver drakes! She could not even imagine what that much money looked like, let alone actually having it. Borba had only given her twenty septims. Now she wished she had known about Umbacano first!

"Do we have a pact then?" Umbacano asked with a smile. From the smug look on his face, Teresa could see that he already knew her answer.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 01:59 AM

[Acadian]

I loved this the first time, and I love it this time as well. You create such a spooky atmosphere. Your richly detailed descriptions of the manor are great, but you really excel at capturing Umbaccano.

"Ancestors?" Teresa asked, feeling more and more uncomfortable with every step he took closer to her. Given his eyes and skin, a part of her thought they might be siblings. His hair was even the same color as her own, before she had dyed it red at least. The only real difference was the fact that he was an Altmer and she a Bosmer. Yet in spite of their similarities, she had a nagging feeling of danger, as if she were walking across a bridge whose boards might give way at any moment.

Much to like here. A brilliantly subtle review of Teresa's own appearance. It is about time you reminded us of her green eyes (referencing Umbaccano's as emerald in the previous passages). The creaky bridge analysis was so very evocative and appropriate.

"Yes. There were ten of them," he said smoothly, casually laying a hand on the small of Teresa's back. It took an extreme effort of will for her to restrain herself from jumping. Something about his touch made her feel like it were the hand of a scorpion, rather than a mer.

Yep, pretty creepy. This made Buffy squirm when we read it.

She stepped away to free herself from his touch, making a show of looking closer at the statue, and instantly felt better.

Well done, Teresa!

Teresa did not like the way he said 'our city', as if he were one of the Ayleids himself rather than an Altmer.

The rich subtle spookiness continues. Wonderful.

EDIT: Ahah! I note that you edited to change the coinage around for smaller sums and incorporating 100 drakes = 1 septim.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jul 15 2010, 12:45 PM

[haute ecole rider]

It was wonderful to see the start of this quest again. Teresa's experience is so unique, and her perspective so powerful, I have not been able to start this quest again since I first read this chapter segment.

You've not only captured Umbacano and his manor well, you've managed to infuse some kind of Lovecraftian mythos into his psyche. Brrgh!

Well done, again. Acadian already pointed out the passages that struck me.

[Remko]

Loved the way you caught Umbaccano being creepy. I hated his guts from moment one. No matter what character I play, I alway end up stealing the statues back and everything else not nailed to the floor in that manor. Before or after he dies, doesn't matter.

[Olen]

I like Unbaccano and can see why you chose this quest. After your first Alyeid ruin I want to know how you build their culture. Certainly you have him as a 'has it coming' character. But you also show another side to Teresa, she knows that he's bad news and doesn't like him but she's still just greedy enough to take the job.

And as for distractons along the way... I suppose I'll ahve to wait and read the next part.

[Destri Melarg]

What is it about Umbacano Manor that makes all of my characters likewise feel so under-dressed, no matter what they are wearing? I agree with everyone else, this chapter was both atmospheric and ominous. I think I know where you are going with Umbacano’s insistence on having no so-called ‘round-ears’ in his employ, we’ll just have to see if I’m right.

This will be the first time that I can remember Teresa ignoring her instincts in favor of all those pretty septims. Why do I get the feeling that this will not end well?

[SubRosa]

Acadian & h.e.o. & Remko: Thank you. I worked hard to try to make Umbacano feel dangerous. He always seems like a doofus to me in the game.


Olen: I do have some ideas about the Ayleids, such as a preference for the color white (hence the white stone of their ruins, white armor of their soldiers, etc...). It will take a long time for this quest to come to fruition however.


Destri Melarg: Both Olen and yourself hit upon the fact that Teresa's greed is overruling her good sense. She has had a taste of money, and she likes it. As I am sure everyone knows, that never ends well.


All: As Acadian noticed, I have done some world-building with currency. Following h.e.o.'s example I have made the silver drake the standard coin, with the gold septim being worth 10 drakes. The drakes will often be cut in half or quarters for small purchases, and will be minted with grooves to make that easy. That is an idea I got from history, as a vast number of the coins found in Viking Age Scandinavia were cut up like that.

I also sat down and made up a list of common prices for things, and basic monthly wages for some professions. Given that I will probably be using exact amounts in the future. I have also went back to the old chapters and adjusted the amounts of things where I did set an exact number.


Next: Teresa learns the full extent of the devastation, and renews and old acquaintance. This will be a big one, but I did not want to break it in the middle of things.

* * *

Chapter 12.3- Aftermath

Teresa left Umbacano Manor feeling slightly lightheaded. Nine thousand drakes! she imagined, what might that buy? She could buy a small insula for that! Not some rat-infested tenement in the Arena District either, but a somewhere nice like the Elven Gardens. There would be plenty left over for fancy new clothes, jewelry, and gourmet food.

Her daydreams of wealth did not last for long however, as she found her feet had taken her to the Temple District instead of back to Jensine's shop. Ever since she had heard Emperor Martin's voice in her head, and later heard people talk of his sacrifice, she had wanted to see for herself. Having been the one to smuggle the Amulet of Kings to Jauffre, she had felt strangely connected to him, and of course to his father Uriel, in spite of only seeing Martin once in the flesh.

What if she had insisted that she help after she gave the amulet to Jauffre? Would things have turned out differently? Teresa wondered. Or would Martin – Saint Martin as he was already being called – still be dead?

No, she knew that Jauffre would have never allowed it. For all that he was nice to her, he would have never let her near the new Emperor. Not with her being a street urchin and refugee from prison. Heroes did not come from back alleys and shantytowns, she thought, they were not people who thought of stealing a loaf of bread when the deliveryman came by. Whatever she was, whatever she had become since meeting the Emperor, it was certainly not a hero!

She found the Temple District was a stark contrast to Talos Plaza. The air reeked of death, a smell she knew well after Vilverin. Here she could see entire buildings smashed into piles of rubble. Massive stone blocks lay scattered across the district, as if thoughtlessly cast aside by giants. The roads had been cleared enough to let carts pass back and forth. Yet there were still bodies of all varieties sprawled in pools of dried blood throughout the wreckage, crows and rats picking over them in a gruesome feast. Normally the crows would have brought at least a faint smile to Teresa's lips, but not given what they were dining upon.

Clustered around the Temple of the One itself were row upon row of people lying in the street. Some were covered in blankets and had makeshift pillows thrust beneath their heads. Others were merely stretched out over the bare stone. Most were heavily bandaged or otherwise showed signs of terrible injuries. Some were missing limbs, others she could see suffered from burns as priests and priestesses changed their bandages, revealing their savaged flesh underneath the cloth. A cacophony of groans and occasional screams rose into the air, and Teresa felt her stomach churn. She was not sure what was worse, looking at the carnage, or the knowledge that she could do absolutely nothing to help.

The Temple itself lay in ruins. The remnants of its walls were blackened from fire, and its massive dome was simply gone, as if some great hand had snatched away the entire top of the structure. Rising above its broken walls was a statue of a massive dragon, its leathery wings stretching out high into the sky overhead. Its serpentine head reared back on a long, sinuous neck, and its jaws were open wide in what might have been a roar of triumph.

Aside from the Imperial Palace and White Gold Tower, the Temple of the One was the largest, most imposing building Teresa had ever seen in her life. A single granite block from its walls was the size of a wagon. Teresa gaped, wondering what in the world could have smashed it as if was nothing but a child's toy?

She knew the answer of course, Mehrunes Dagon, the Daedric Prince of Destruction.

Teresa's gaze fell down to the flagstones of the street upon which she stood. Most of the people who had been here yesterday were dead now, she thought, or were stretched out around the temple in bodies that were shattered like glass under a hammer. If she had been standing here rather than in Jensine's she would be dead too, she knew. Her body shook at the thought as she looked around at the maimed and the dead. There but for the grace of the Nine, she would be too…

She felt the urge to bolt rise within her. Yet something drove her feet onward, past the rows of maimed survivors and into the broken shell of the Temple of the One itself. She did not really know why, some morbid curiosity perhaps, or maybe a sense of duty to the old Emperor and his son Martin. All she did know was that she had to see it all.

Teresa gasped when she set her eyes upon the interior. She had been within the temple once, years ago. It had been the most awe-inspiring thing she had ever seen, with its massive dome that had seemed to float in the air overhead. The walls had been of shining marble inlaid with gold, silver, and gemstones. Even the floor had been polished to such a high sheen that she had been able to see her reflection in it. Most incredible of all had been the dragonfire burning in the central atrium, a brilliant yellow flame that blazed with no fuel. A fire that did not consume, but rather radiated light and warmth.

Now it was all gone: the dome, the polished marble, precious metals, even the divine fire. Only shattered and blackened stones remained to whisper the tale of what had once stood. That, and the titanic dragon that now loomed in the center of the temple.

Even though the roof of the temple was gone, the great dragon's wings cast its interior in shadow. Now Teresa could see that its body was supported by slender legs, if something as wide as tree trunks could be called slender, while an equally thick tail snaked out behind it. The entire thing barely fit within the walls of the temple, it was so huge.

"Akatosh..." Teresa whispered, staring up at the statue in wonder.

"Yes, Akatosh, that is him," a familiar voice came from behind her ear. Teresa turned to see a Redguard standing just outside the broken walls of the temple. Her face was lined and weathered with age and care, and her snow-white hair tied behind her head in a ponytail. A curved Akaviri sword hung from her hip, and she still wore the mail armor and Kvatch surcoat that Teresa had seen her in the day before, when she had ridden through the street with Martin Septim. Only now the both were darkened with dried blood, and rent in several places.

"Julian!" Teresa exclaimed in surprise. Part of her wanted to throw her arms around the other woman. Yet she doubted the Redguard would feel the same way. The forester did allow herself a faint smile as she looked on the Blade's worn and tired face however.

"Teresa? is that you really you?" the soldier asked, appearing to be as surprised as the wood elf was. "I looked up and saw the hair, and wondered if it might be."

"I am so glad to see you're alright! What are you doing here though?" Teresa asked, running one hand through her red tresses. "I thought you would be at the palace? Or in one of the tower barracks?"

"I know a Convalescence spell, so I've been helping with the wounded. It takes a lot out of me though." The Redguard looked exhausted, and Teresa noticed that she would not look up at the statue of the dragon above them.

"Are Baurus, and Jauffre here too?" Teresa asked. She wanted to ask about Martin as well, but was afraid she already knew the answer.

"Baurus is in the palace, working with the Chancellor. He's the new Grandmaster now." Julian looked down at her feet, and Teresa knew what that promotion meant, along with her noticeable lack of mentioning Jauffre. Now the wood elf did lay a comforting hand on the Blade's armored shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said, and was surprised to find that she genuinely meant it too. Jauffre had been nice to her, once he had learned she carried the Amulet of Kings. It was hard to imagine him being gone.

The Redguard said nothing, and turned away. Scrambling over broken stones, Teresa stepped out of the ruin of the temple to stand beside her. Now she could no longer keep herself from blurting out the question that had been gnawing at her since the end of the battle yesterday. "What about Martin? I know he's gone too, but no one says exactly what happened to him."

"That is him, in there," the Redguard jerked her chin over her shoulder at the Temple behind them, her voice a rasping whisper. Teresa turned her head, and saw nothing but the towering statue. Then it dawned upon her, the statue was Martin. "He broke the Amulet. The power in it combined with his own blood, and he became Akatosh himself. He defeated Mehrunes Dagon, and sealed Nirn off from Oblivion. But no mortal can take on the power of a god and remain - well, mortal."

Teresa could not help but to gape as she stared up at the great dragon. That was really Martin Septim, she thought, the son of Uriel, who had been in her thoughts so often since she had met him!

"Some people choose poorly. Some choose to be something better." The words of the late Emperor rose from Teresa's memories. Martin had been his father's son, that was for certain. He had chosen well. He had given his life for her, and for everyone on Nirn.

Her eyes fell to her hands, which had held the Amulet of Kings not so long ago. At the time she had thought it was merely a means to prove Martin the rightful heir. Now from what Julian said both it and Martin had been their very salvation from the Daedric hordes. A salvation that she had carried past the enemy to Jauffre, so that he could in turn entrust it to Martin.

Teresa turned back to Julian, and for a moment she thought she saw the Redguard wiping a tear from her dark-skinned cheek. "I heard his voice in my head, at the end," she said. The wood elf was not sure if admitting it to Julian was the best thing to do, but if she could not confide it in the Hero of Kvatch, then who could she tell?

Julian turned with a start, one hand grasping Teresa by the arm. The wood elf could see that her eyes were moist with tears, and when the Redguard spoke, it was in a voice husky with emotion.

"You heard him too!" she hissed.

Teresa nodded. "It was like he was standing right next me. He said the Daedra were defeated, the Oblivion Gates sealed forever, and the amulet destroyed. He said his sacrifice was not in vain, and that he was proud to join his ancestors."

"I thought I was the only one." Julian let go of her arm with a sigh. "No one else heard him. I don't know why only we did. Maybe because we both held the Amulet of Kings. We're the last living people on Nirn to have done so."

"You carried it?" Teresa's brow furrowed in surprise. "I thought Jauffre gave it to Martin after you rescued him?"

"No, there's a lot that most people don't know." Julian said. Now one of her hands closed into a fist, and the forester wondered what she might be thinking. "The Mythic Dawn took it. I was only able to get it back a few days ago."

"So that's why he wasn't wearing it at Bruma!" Teresa exclaimed, remembering her vision of the battle. "Was that weird stone you had part of that? The one from the big gateway?"

"You were at Bruma?" Now it was Julian's turn to look surprised.

"Well, sort of," Teresa bit her lower lip as she tried to think of how to explain it. Well, in for a septim, in for a pound, she thought to herself. "My spirit-guide showed it to me as it happened."

"Your spirit-guide?" Julian looked blank for a moment, then her eyes brightened with understanding. "That's right, you're a Bosmer. I forgot that you have those."

"You know about that?" Teresa could not contain her amazement. No one she had ever met, aside from Morcant of course, seemed to have ever heard of spirit-guides.

"I was stationed in Valenwood for a few years," the Redguard said casually. "Don't hear about too many Bosmer outside of there believing in that though."

"Well, I didn't believe it either," Teresa breathed, "but Raven believed in me. I know this is going to sound strange, but I saw you before Bruma too. You were on the road, with Jauffre and Martin, riding toward the mountains in the north."

"That strange bird…" Julian said quietly, looking down, then back up into Teresa's eyes. "That was you?"

"You saw me?" Teresa's eyes widened. "I didn't think anyone could?"

"You flew right in front of me. It was the strangest thing, but somehow no one else noticed." Julian related. "I had forgotten about it until just now."

"I know this is going to sound crazy," Teresa found herself biting her lip once more, "but somehow it feels like I almost know you."

"I know what you mean." The Redguard forced a weak smile to her lips. "Ever since I held the Amulet of Kings, you've been in my mind for some reason. I keep flashing back to that time we met at Weynon, when all this started."

"Julian!" came the breathless voice of a boy in his early teens. He was wearing bright velvet, and ran up to the Blade to hand her a note. "With the compliments of the Grandmaster."

Julian muttered a word of thanks to the messenger and looked down at the parchment. A frown grew on her face, and a moment later she crumpled it beneath her fist.

"I have to go," she sighed as she looked back up at Teresa. "I wish we had more time, but something's come up. We're short on agents now, and I have to leave the city. I know Baurus wants to talk to you though. Go by the palace later and see him. I'll make sure they know you're coming."

With that the Redguard turned on her heel and marched resolutely toward the towering spire of White Gold Tower, which rose above the grey wall separating the Temple District from the palace grounds in the center of the city. As she walked away, Teresa noted that the Blade was not limping anymore, as she had been at Weynon.

Why would Baurus want to see her though? the wood elf wondered as she stared after the Blade. He wasn't going to throw her back in prison was he? The thought made her heart pick up its pace, and she could not restrain herself from eyeing the soldiers all around.

No, don't be silly, she thought, forcing herself to relax. Maybe there was something he thought that she might know? about the amulet? or the Mythic Dawn? Yes, it must be that, she reasoned. The wood elf resolved go there the next day, and tell him she didn't know a thing, and that would be that.

Still, it had made her feel better to meet Julian again. Somehow she felt a strange bond with the Redguard. They had each been there when an Emperor died. Her with Uriel, and Julian with Martin. They had each carried the Amulet of Kings for them. In spite of the fact that she knew absolutely nothing about the Blade, she still felt that they were connected somehow.

Once again, she wondered if she should have remained behind with Jauffre at Weynon, and insisted to be part of what followed. Would anything have happened differently? Would Martin still be alive? or Jauffre? Or would she really just be one more anonymous corpse like all the others scattered across the district?

What of Jensine? Teresa asked herself suddenly, not really sure where the thought had come from. Would the merchant have survived if she had not been in her shop when the attack happened? Would Volsinius have lived? Or Simplicia? Probably not, she realized.

Teresa knew that she was not a hero, not like Martin Septim or Julian. But maybe, just maybe, she thought that she might be able to do something worthwhile in spite of all her failings.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 02:00 AM

[D.Foxy]

Ah, how seamlessly have you blended the character from another story, my other Red Riter!!!

Julian here is so much like the Julian there that quite a few might think that two people, not one, were sitting behind the keyboard...

[Acadian]

This was wonderful, and I'm glad you left it as one post.

Teresa's interest in Umbaccano's gold struck me in the last installment as flowing fairly naturally from her desire to help Simplicia. What better way to provide a roof over the old girl's head? Based on her comments in this installment however, I wonder if she is 'wowed' by the prospect of gold since she has never had much. Oooh! Now you have me wondering if she is going to get into trouble!

Your description of the city was very well done. I rarely see it, because I prefer not to finish that quest.

Seeing Julian was special. You did a great job at showing how there can be some overlap between the two stories. I loved how you dealt with Jauffre's death.

A tripple cliffie! Julian (of the future) has an assignment from the Blades and Teresa is to meet Baurus again. And, I am still anxious to see how Vols is doing after his horrible wounds.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jul 16 2010, 05:18 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Well, what can I say?

I loved how you have described the city in the aftermath of the Crisis - you have given me a few ideas for my own story.

As I had said before, you have done well with 'my' character Julian - her elementary nature is captured well here. The old soldier won't let down her guard, yet she finds she can confide in Teresa just a little bit. I didn't realize it sooner, but I noticed how they recognized each other by the hair. Appropriate!

The conversation they had fit their characters well.

Loved it!