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

[SubRosa]

hazmick: Thank you haz. Teresa is glad you like it, and would smile faintly if she were not so embarrassed by the praise!


Winter Wolf: Thank you Wolf. Writing Julian was a lot of fun. I have always liked doing cameos of other characters. Hers was certainly the largest, and most influential!


treydog: Thank you dog. Morcant is meant to be a very down-to-Nirn character. A little prejudiced in certain regards (such as the Mages Guild), but generally someone who feels both humbled by her experiences, but also confident enough in herself to not need to boast.


Next: Teresa catches up with an old friend. I have to give a special shout out to Destri, for without his inspiration this entire chapter would have never been written.

* * *

Chapter 15.1 - Old Friends, Not Forgotten

10th Sun's Height, 3E433

Teresa paused to wipe the sweat from her brow and cast her green eyes southward. Hills covered in heather and strewn with boulders met her gaze as far as her eyes could see. Wild goats and antelope grazed off to one side, and geese honked across the sky overhead. Turning to look back, the forester saw the ghostly white spire of White Gold Tower floating in the azure summer sky. Three days walk, she thought, and she could still see the phantom of its shape. It was even more incredible far away than up close.

"The lake must be somewhere nearby," the forester said, turning to the other Bosmer woman with her. "We can cool off in the water once we're there."

"I still can't believe I let you talk me into this," Methredhel breathed, likewise wiping away the sweat that poured from her forehead. "Let alone doing it in all this leather. We should have worn those Redguard crop-tops I saw at the Copious Coinpurse."

"That's more Adanrel's style than either of ours." Teresa bit her lip. She was not sure if the thief really meant what she had said about coming to the wilderness with her, or if the other wood elf was only joking. The forester hoped it was the latter, but was afraid that was not so.

"Especially now that she's 'waiting tables' at the Rampant Razorback," Methredhel chuckled.

"Yeah, on her back." Teresa rolled her eyes. "I still can't believe she's working at that dive. They are so cheap, they make the girls all sell at least one drink a day so that they can call them barmaids. Just so they can hire women who aren't in the Prostitute's Guild."

"Hey that's the Waterfront," Methredhel said, "cheap is a way of life. Still, she's the first of us to ever have a real job."

"Hey, I have a real job," Teresa insisted. "I'm an alchemist, and an explorer."

Methredhel did not reply. Instead the thief stared off to the west, where the ground rose to a rocky hill. Her brow furrowed as if she was puzzling something out, and she lifted a hand to shade her eyes from the sun.

"What is it?" Teresa said, one hand drawing her bow stave from her back and the other reaching for a string. "Do you see something?"

"No, it's nothing," the brown-haired wood elf turned back to Teresa. "Just my eyes playing tricks on me. Everything is so, weird out here."

"What do you mean?" The forester still took the time to string her bow. "It's beautiful out here. A little hot, but what can you do about that?"

"It's all so empty, so wide open," Methredhel said, glancing back to the west, "It's so strange after the city."

"I know, isn't it wonderful?" Teresa looked up from her ready weapon, and she could see that the other elf felt anything but the way she did herself. She had seen it in Methredhel's eyes from the first day. The thief did not see the same paradise that she did. What the other woman did see Teresa was not sure, but it obviously felt foreign to her. They really had grown apart, the forester thought glumly. Ever since she had met the Emperor, she and Methredhel had lived in different worlds.

"Hey, there's nothing there!" Teresa heard Methredhel call out as she purposely strode in the direction that the thief had been looking. The forester set an arrow to the nock of her bow, and scanned the boulders above for any signs of movement. All was still however. There were no sounds of rocks falling loose under an ambusher's heel, no heads poking around rocks, nor any sign of anything else untoward. "Are you always like this?" the other Bosmer asked as she sprinted to catch up.

"Always pay attention to your instincts," Teresa murmured, still advancing up the slope and looking around cautiously. "You never know what you might find."

With that, the two wood elves skirted around a large boulder and reached the crest of the rise. Before them was a road of hard-packed dirt. To their right it vanished in the hills heading toward the Imperial City. While straight ahead it meandered back and forth down an incline. Finally it vanished into a massive pit dug within the surface of the ground. The depression must have been at least a hundred yards across, and rather than dropping straight down, it gradually fell in a series of terraces. The road curled along each level, and finally disappeared into a pool of crystal clear water that filled the bottom of the pit.

"It must be an old quarry," Methredhel observed. "Doesn't look like anyone's been here in ages."

Teresa unstrung her bow and slipped her arrow back into its bag. She was drawing the pack from her back when she noticed the other elf doing the same. "Are you thinking what I am?" she fairly giggled with a faint smile, looking back to the inviting waves below.

"Last one in's a rotten kwama!" Methredhel cried, tearing off at a run.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jan 7 2011, 03:55 AM

[hazmick]

A relaxing stroll in the woods with Methredhel gives Teresa a chance to catch her breath after the business with the emperor and that 'Oblivion crisis' that everyone was going on about. It's a shame that Methredhel doesn't share Teresa's passion for the forest.

One question: What's a Kwama?

[Acadian]

SubRosa, this was beautiful! You did wonderful justice to the hills and forests.

I'm with you, Teresa - it's beautiful out here! Oh well, at least you tried, and that shows a great deal of affection for Methredhel. You can lead a wood elf to the forest, but you can't make her drink and all that. Methie is just an old lockpick in the mud.

Kind of bittersweet, the sad distance now between them. You can't go back to being a street urchin stealing bruised apples.

Prostitute's guild? Oh my. Maybe Teresa should consider one of the guilds, but not that one!

Well, we are greatly relieved to hear that there are at least a couple other wood elves for whom the statement, 'Water makes her clothes fall off' rings true.

As you know, some of my fave Teresa stories are ones just like this. We learn more of Teresa and just feel, 'ahhh'.

Oh, for hazmick: A kwama is a Morrowind creature - http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Kwama

This post has been edited by Acadian: Aug 15 2010, 06:46 PM

[hazmick]

Thanks Acadian. I've never played Morrowind. Looks...interesting.

[Olen]

Back into the wilds then, but with Methredhel. You caught the confusion of people who like the empty country when confronted with those who (rather inexplicably) don't perfectly, and I'd guess from experience.

A prostitute's guild?! Well it's an interesting addition anyway.

Still swimming in any natural water which can be found, this I approve of, though you haven't offered much indication of where they are. I'm sure something will happen to draw them a bit closer... but what

One nit:
She was not sure if the thief really meant what she had said about coming to the wilderness with her, of if the other wood elf was only joking. -- a matter of or or of if I'm not mistaken

[haute ecole rider]

A wonderful break from the hustle and bustle of the city. Teresa returns to her natural environment, only to find out that it's not 'natural' for everyone. Oh well.

Growing apart happens to everyone at some point or another. Bittersweet to see that happening here.

Funny that I should read this now, when I have just returned home after a wonderful walk through the local state park here (woods, wetlands and a riverbank). Your description of the area just jumped off the page at me.

[D.Foxy]

B'wana, Kwama be an insect - in the TES world.

[treydog]

Still reading as fast as I can while still doing justice to your prose:

9a

Slowly the forester drew an arrow from the at bag her right hip…

Apparently, Teresa was rattled enough to misplace her preposition.

Teresa decided that she might as well try honesty. She was doing enough other new things lately that it seemed worth giving it a go as well.

Be careful with that; too much honesty can be as bad for you as too much fresh air!

You again show your descriptive power with Teresa’s survey of Cheydinhal.

9b

The business with the welkynd stones was an excellent way of revealing a number of things about Teresa- she is not an experienced haggler; although she has learned a great deal about nature, “civilized stuff” like where to sell your goods is still new to her.

9c

This whole installment is lyrical and lovely. I especially enjoyed Teresa’s overt understanding of her own spirituality.

Were the good ones always taken? she wondered.

With awareness of self often comes awareness of loneliness- and it never gets easier.

9d

The way you animate your vision of a larger Cyrodiil is masterful- the fenced towns giving way to stockades, etc.

The letter was priceless, especially the part about: “Oh, never mind about the armor. Why would I need armor? Just forget I said anything.” And the mention of the Oblivion Crisis events also gives us a sense of the wider world.

9e
Funny how ruins or caves seem smaller once you have explored them.

In re- Bubbas and their gun-racks, you would have to come up with a TF equivalent for the usual mundane-world contents- an umbrella, a cane, and a contractor’s level….

Loved the horse-ferry. Not so much the vision that came while Teresa was on board- but the Crisis is not over….

This post has been edited by treydog: Aug 16 2010, 10:54 PM

[Destri Melarg]

Yes! You decided to explore more of Teresa and Methredhel’s relationship. Thank you for the shout-out. I am genuinely touched, given how small my contribution to this wonderful interlude was.

You have left us with a lot to digest here. Hautee found the perfect word to describe this brief chapter: Bittersweet. I always had the impression that there was a bit of hero worship in Teresa’s relationship with Methredhel. I have no idea how your forester talked her thieving friend out of the city, but I think there is a part of her that now regrets it. I can understand why, in the wilds it is Teresa who is confident and self-assured. Removing Methredhel from her usual haunts has diminished her in Teresa’s eyes. It is always hard to discover flaw in one’s hero. For my part, I thought it was nice to see Methredhel as the fish out of water for once. Usually she is so confident in what she is doing that it verges on the annoying. I have no idea how this is going to inform the rest of Teresa’s story, but I am going to have a lot of fun finding out.

The addition of a Prostitute’s Guild and the Rampant Razorback provide more succulent meat to the already rich bounty that is your Waterfront. We just HAVE to see them in action now!

I saw only one nit:

Her brow furrowed as is if she was puzzling something out,

[SubRosa]

hazmick: Thank you haz. I see Acadian already handled the kwama issue. Kwama eggs were a common foodstuff in Morrowind.


Acadian: Thank you Acadian. Methie is indeed lockpick in the mud. She is a city girl through and through. Her theme song would be You Belong To The City by Glen Frey.

Water does indeed make Teresa's clothes fall off! In fact, that is how this next segment begins!


Olen: Thank you Olen. The Prostitute's Guild is in Oblivion. The History of the Fighters Guild mentions them being formed during the Interregnum, along with the FG and a slew of other guilds.


haute ecole rider: Thank you haute. Teresa and Methredhel have indeed been growing apart ever since the beginning of the story. Yet as we shall see, both have reasons to hang onto their relationship as long as possible.


treydog: Thank you dog. The Oblivion Crisis is only reaching its crescendo! (at last where you are) your testosterone should like chapters 10 & 11.


Destri Melarg: This is only the first segment, much more to come, all inspired by your suggestion to see a story with Teresa, Methredhel, and Adanrel as kids. After this segment, we will be going back in time to see just that.

You are quite right, Teresa has always been a little in awe of Methredhel, and this chapter will show why. However, she has always seen a few chinks in her armor as well, again, as we will see.

The Rampant Razorback was my way of coming up with a name for a really cheap brothel. Something like Porky's only more ES-ized.


next: Water makes wood elf's clothes fall off.


* * *

Chapter 15.2 - Old Friends, Not Forgotten

Teresa sat on the wild grass with a sigh of contentment. The green blades tickled her slender legs, and the sun blazed hot upon her bare skin. She glanced at the turquoise band of the Jewel of the Rumare beside her pack and the pile of her leathers. She knew that all she had to do was slip it on her finger, and she would be instantly dry. But the water glistening along her pale skin was the only relief from the blistering rays of Magnus overhead. So she would wait instead, she thought, and relish the coolness while it lasted.

Glancing at Methredhel beside her, Teresa felt her blood flow hotter. The thief was as naked as she was, and lay stretched out on her back with arms out over her head. Droplets of water glistened across the other Bosmer's smooth skin like a robe of diamonds. Her brown hair - turned dark from the water - was drawn back from her face, showing off her high cheekbones and soft lips.

The forester had to resist the urge to reach out and caress her naked frame. Biting her lip, Teresa turned her head to avoid the temptation, and was thankful for the fact that Methredhel had her eyes closed. Damn! Teresa silently cursed, usually she could force herself to ignore how attractive some other women were. But usually they were not naked and soaking wet beside her…

"Lay down and relax," came the voice of the thief. "This is the most fun I've had since we came out here."

"I'm sorry," Teresa bit her lip once more. "I thought there would be more trees in this part of the island to give us shade. There are plenty on the north side. It looks like it's all heath down here in the south."

"Relax," the thief repeated, "it's not your fault it's hot. What do you expect from Sun's Height on the City Isle?"

"I know." Teresa turned back to look at Methredhel, who she found was now staring back at her from eyes the color of emeralds. "I just wanted things to be perfect, you know, and Adanrel didn't even come at all."

"You worry too much," the other Bosmer shook her head. A moment later her hand fell to rest upon one of Teresa's knees. "You always did. She's just working is all. They'd fire her if she was gone for a week. Everything is fine."

"You don't like it, do you?" Teresa looked down, staring at the long, slender fingers of the other woman's hand. The soft bronze of her skin leapt out starkly against the pale white of Teresa's own flesh. "Out here I mean, in the wilderness."

The forester heard the other woman sigh. and saw her rise to a sitting position from the corner of her eye. The thief's fingers rose to cup the side of Teresa's cheek, turning her face to meet her own. A crooked smile crossed Methredhel's features. It spoke volumes to Teresa, who knew from experience that it meant the other woman felt guilty about what she was about to say.

"I think I understand why you love it so much out here," the thief began, "No smell, no filth, no thugs, no soldiers. But it's just so eerie how quiet it gets, how empty it feels. I'm used to having walls to sneak behind, crowds to blend into. Out here, there's nowhere to hide." Then the other woman winked, and Teresa knew that she was trying hard to be cheerful. "There's no hot food stands either, or pockets to pick. Nothing for a city girl like me to do!"

Teresa felt her heart sink like a pebble tossed into Lake Rumare. She had so hoped that Methredhel would feel the same joy and freedom that she did from being in the wild. They could have travelled Cyrodiil together, picking plants, making potions, and just discovering what the world had to offer. Yet that was just not to be. Methredhel really did belong in the city, and Teresa knew that she had been a fool to hope otherwise. They really did live in different worlds now.

Teresa nodded. She did not know what to say, and Methredhel did not press her for a response. So instead the forester looked down again. Her eyes settled upon her pack, and on a whim she leaned over and began to rummage through it. A few moments later she drew forth a long, slender dagger in a sheath of soft brown leather. Its gently curving handle was made of amber wood, and was overlain with a latticework of gold branches and flowers.

"Happy birthday!" Teresa smiled faintly and handed the dagger to Methredhel.

The other woman's eyes lit up as she stared at the weapon. Drawing it from its sheath, her green eyes lingered over the sweeping blade of golden metal. The elvish steel flashed brightly in the sunlight, as if welcoming the embrace of an old friend, and Teresa had to squint when she looked at it. Yet even in the glare, she could still clearly see the elegant branches and leaves etched upon the surface of the brilliant metal.

"This is real elven steel!" the thief gasped, "and the handle's sila wood, from Valenwood! Where did you get this?"

"Vilverin," Teresa breathed. "I knew you would like it, so I kept it. I was waiting for the right time to give it to you. I guess now is as good as ever."

"It's beautiful!" Methredhel exclaimed, "just like you." The next thing the forester knew, the other elf wrapped her arms around her in a warm embrace. Teresa closed her eyes and sighed, wishing the moment could stretch on forever. The thief leaned away far too soon for the forester's liking however, and looked into her eyes.

"You don't have to give me this," the other elf said. She slid the blade back into its sheath and held the dagger out to Teresa. "Really, I'm happy with dinner at the Bloated Float. It's not like we're rich. You should sell it."

"No, I want you to have it." Teresa insisted, and was gratified when Methredhel pulled the blade back. "I just wish I could have been there for your actual birthday."

"Well, it's not your fault you were arrested!" Methredhel laughed. "It happens to the best of us after all. I wish you hadn't been though. Adanrel said I got so drunk that I tried to climb the mast of the Float and nearly fell into the harbor. If you were there, you wouldn't have let me get that grogged."

"Good thing you didn't turn invisible!" Teresa allowed a real smile to escape her lips as she thought of the star sign the other woman had been born under. "If you passed out, no one would have ever found you."

"Not until Hieronymus Lex tripped over me at me at least," Methredhel chuckled and began to pull her clothing on. "About the closest he'll ever get to catching a real thief. You know it's funny, you're the one who was born under the Thief, but I don't think you've stolen anything since we were kids."

"That's ok," Teresa slid the turquoise band of the Jewel of the Rumare on, and instantly felt her skin and hair dry. Reaching for her leather, she followed the other Bosmer's example and began to dress. "You've pilfered more than enough for the both of us! Being born under the Shadow certainly has been good for your purse, and bad for those of everyone else!"

"Hey, that reminds me of how we met…"

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 02:14 AM

[hazmick]

Aaw, poor Teresa. so near yet so far away from Methredhel. Will we see Teresa hookin' up with anyone in the future? A thief? an inkeeper in weye? The next chapter sounds intersting. good job.

[Acadian]

SubRosa, this is a lovely piece - er, um. . . I mean interlude. The only thing nicer than a naked wood elf drying in the sun is two of them. You managed their actions and dialogue, along with Teresa's thoughts in a way that truely did justice here.

What a pleasure to read. Wonderful how you wove in Teresa's time at Vilverin (the dagger) and how you incorporated the birthsigns of both elves. What a handy ring that Jewal of the Rumare is for Teresa!

Just the perfect touches of oh my, ahhh, bittersweet smiles and even a giggle or two.

I'm so pleased that it seems you may linger on Teresa and Methie for a bit.

Ahhhh.


Nit?

Glancing at Methredhel beside her, Teresa felt her heart quicken his pace.

Did you mean to use the masculine form for Teresa's heart? I would have thought perhaps 'its' pace?

This post has been edited by Acadian: Aug 17 2010, 02:55 PM

[haute ecole rider]

So now we get to see how Teresa and Methredhel became such fast friends in the first place?

I look forward to seeing the time traveling.

As for Teresa's attraction to Meth, it's sad, really. Reminds me of all those romantic triangles where the second fiddle never gets the girl!

[Olen]

Poor Teresa, she'll find someone suitable eventually I'm sure. It was very smoothly written, you worked a lot of description in there but with dialogue so neither became too static while you layed some more ground (and background like the birthsigns).

And now we get to see how they met and a bit mroe of Teresa's history.

Nit (?):
Chapter 15.1 - Old Friends, Not Forgotten - that's two 15.1s, previously you've numbered each part individually (I think). Me? Bullet counter?

[D.Foxy]

I think you have captured Love which in its teenage form is, whether gay or straight, achingly bittersweet. Especially if it is doomed from the start...that adds an especial poignancy.

[Kazaera]

I love this story so much. Not only does Teresa feel so real and believable it seems as though she might walk off the page any moment, her friends and the people she meets do too! I also really enjoy the way you diverged early from the main quest in order to explore Teresa's journey - one which feels very true to her as a character and lets us see her growth as a person. What I think you also do especially well is explaining why Teresa does the things she does, giving her motivations for her actions - something which I think is easy to skip over given that we're all used to the "go here, deliver this package" style that is actual gameplay.

The last chapter was brilliant - I really felt for Teresa, discovering her best friend who she was also in love with can't share a really important part of her life with her. I've had experiences like that with friends (who hasn't?) and this tugged at my heartstrings. Poor Teresa!

[treydog]

10a

The entire description of the armies arrayed against each other should have been a cut-scene in the game. I mean, we are talking about the Empire here! Why wouldn’t they call back some of the Legions? Holding Morrowind or other frontier conquests is kind of meaningless if Marooned Dragon eats Cyrodiil. Even if we cannot play Oblivion as we do Rome: Total War, it would be nice to see a nod to the level of effort put forth to preserve the Empire- or are we to believe that the player character is the only asset available?

10b

Loved the banter and the tactical discussion, as well. Still, I think the windy prelate would have done better with a more inspiring speech or perhaps a simple motto-

Cf: “They can tak oor lives, but they canna tak oor troosers!" Terry Pratchett

10c

Good tactics- the Imperial army has to make use of their greater organization and mobility.

Ahh, Pappy- sometimes even the best make mistakes. That was a costly one, I fear.

10d

Julian- and old habits!

Just like a woman …. Tadrose was the same way, he thought, all women were. Damn sneaky.

Over the Hills and Far Away- excuse me, a bit of chaff must have blown into my eyes. I’ll be just a minute….

10e

Through the terrific din she could hear shouts as well. "Kvatch! Kvatch!"

Ah yes, just as the Union troops shouted, “Fredericksburg, Fredericksburg” after rebuffing Pickett’s Charge.

10f

Knowing how many of these people will not make it back is a terrible burden…. But it is a part of the story that we must remember. For every Hero of Kvatch, there are a dozen or more Menien Gonelds…

10g

An excellent fight- better than the FG could have hoped for- short and sharp.

10h

"Because there are two kinds of people in this world son," the grey-haired Imperial explained, "those who have bows, and those who dig."

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly FTW!

The deaths of Njall and Aissa certainly fit with what I have experienced in the few FG quests where you have “help.” They either run ahead and get overwhelmed or get in the way and block your shot/spell/swing (grumble- grumble).

10i

Teresa Raven-Wing saves Pappy’s [British Boat] is the auto-censor term, I believe.

As Pappy moved in, the Breton neatly tripped the dremora after working a foot behind its ankle and shoving with his shield.

Yup, it’s about leverage.

10j

Started to make some (half) witty remark, but realized how out of place it would be. The conclusion was magnificent and tragic. And the wonderful cinematic way it spirals down from the vast field of the dead and injured to one woman mourning over the body of one man…. Kurosawa could not have done it better.


Testosterone- pffft. I am too old a doggie to look forward to battles. They are frequently necessary, but never pleasurable. Which does not mean that your descriptions failed to stir my blood or cause me to elevate my dachshund snout to the sky to catch the scent of cordite.

[D.Foxy]

Kurosawa could not have done it better.

So you're a fan too!!!!

Me strongly agrees....

[SubRosa]

hazmick: Thank you haz. You never know what might be in Teresa's future. She does seem to have a thing for innkeepers though, especially the Altmer ones...


Acadian: Thank you Acadian. I was thinking of Buffy and Parwen when I wrote this. You were quite right about 'its' pace as well.


haute ecole rider: Thank you haute. Teresa is attracted to Methredhel. Then again, she is attracted to all well, attractive women. So she is not really being left out, just seeing something she likes.


Olen: Thank you Olen. Spot on with the numbering of the chapter. I always copy and paste from the previous heading to save time, sometimes I forget to edit the increment.


D.Foxy: Teresa is not really in love with Methredhel. She is just attracted to women, and Methredhel is a woman, a moderately good-looking one at that, and was naked and soaking wet at Teresa's feet. I see many people had the same impression you did though, so I went back to reword things a bit to try to make it seem more like ordinary lust.


Kazaera: Thank you Kaz. I focus on characterization over plot, so to me why characters do things is extremely important. I also learned a long time ago while playing pen and paper RPGs that the more personally involved the characters are in what is going on, the larger impact it has.


treydog: Yay, someone recognized the "Fredericksburg!" nod. That is exactly what I was thinking of when I wrote the "Kvatch!" warcry of the Imperials. I was tempted to show a knight dragging a dremora standard behind his horse at the end as well, but there was just too much going on that I did not want to clutter it up with over-descriptions.

Nice to see someone else who knows Over the Hills and Far Away as well. I was doing one of my annual watchings of the Sharpes Rifles series, which has burned that song into my head with the amazing vocals of John Tams (whom the character Hirtuleus is based upon).

I am also a big Kurosawa fan, so thank you for the comparison. The Seven Samurai is one of my favorite movies. There is even an anime series based off it called Samurai Seven that is quite good as well.


Next: We turn back the clock ten years, and meet an eight year old Teresa.

* * *

Chapter 15.3 - Old Friends, Not Forgotten

Teresa slumped against the faded and peeling white-wash of an insula wall. The chipped stone was hard against her back, as were the cobbles underneath her, but at least it was out of the blazing Last Seed sun. Wiping the sweat from her pale brow, she drew back the long, tangled brown hair from her face and looked out into the street.

Mortals of all varieties bustled along the avenue. Patricians in their fine garb, artisans and shopkeepers in clean linens, laborers in worn flax, and finally street urchins like herself in ragged sackcloth. The wealthier took great pains to not notice her, while the poorer openly stared. Probably because of my wan skin, the Bosmer child thought to herself, people always gawked at that.

Most were making their way to or from the wide entrance of the Arena at the other side of the street. Unlike the crumbling tenement that she sheltered against, it was a gleaming structure of polished white marble and limestone that rose in three tiers. Each was as tall as a three-story insula, and was lined with archways that created an arcade encircling the amphitheater. Framing the archways were half columns and golden statues of dragons, eagles, wolves, and other predators, all rising high into the summer sky.

The main entrance was at least fifty feet wide, and faced White Gold Tower to the west. Over it towered the largest statue of all. This was of a bearded Redguard wearing archaic-looking armor and holding a longsword in both hands, point hovering over the tunnel leading into the circular building. Smaller entrances curved away to either side, ringing the entire structure like the holes in a piece of Skyrim cheese. From all of them people streamed in and out of the Arena in a never ending flow.

Casting her gaze higher, Teresa could see the canvas sheets of the retractable dome bunched up at the top of the Arena's wall, and knew that the great amphitheatre had been left open to the clear sky today. Given the shouts and cheers she could hear welling up from within, she imagined that the folk within were enjoying the sun.

For not the first time she wondered how it was that the Imperials did not seem to mind the heat. Frowning down at the reddened skin along her forearms, she wished that she had been born with their olive complexion. They hardly ever seemed to get sunburned. Yet after only a few hours under Magnus' fiery eye she was always red as a lobster.

"You!" A distinctly elven voice brought her head up to see an ashen-skinned Dunmer striding toward her. "It's you! I know it!"

Out of habit, Teresa's eyes darted from one side to the other. There were crates piled up to her right, blocking any escape. But the way to the left was open…

"You thought you could trick me did you!" The dark elf exclaimed, and Teresa bolted. She had no idea who the Dunmer was, or what he wanted, and was not about to wait around to find out. She heard feet slapping on the cobblestones behind her, and darted into the first alley that cut through the insula wall.

Hard fingers clamped down around the neck of her rough tunic, and the young Bosmer was jerked to a sudden halt. Gasping for breath as the sackcloth dug into her throat, she vainly clawed at the hand that held her in place. Yet she could not reach back far enough to reach it. Then a moment later she felt another powerful mitt grasp a handful of her hair and shove her into the stone wall of the alley.

Stars danced before her eyes as her skull bounced off the unyielding rock. When the world swam back into view, the dark form of the Dunmer loomed over her, eyes glowing like red pools of fire. But it was the silvery glint of bared steel that caught the child's gaze. The long, slender blade glittered as it hovered above her face, just inches from her pale skin. Teresa felt warm liquid spread down from her waist as she waited for it to sink into her flesh.

"You had better piss yourself you little Witch!" the Dunmer hissed like an angry serpent. "Don't think that I don't know what you're up to."

"Please sir," Teresa blurted out, trying to sound as innocent and helpless as possible. "I didn't do anything! I'm just a kid!"

"Oh, that's what you all want us to think, isn't it?" Teresa's emerald eyes were fixed upon the hard blade of the knife as it moved back and forth in front of her face. "Just a little girl is it? Only a child? You may have fooled the rest of them with your foul sorcery, but not Valen Dreth! I can see through you, all of you!"

"I don't know what-" the wood elf was cut off as the man's free hand wrapped around her throat and clamped down hard. Her eyes bulged from their sockets as she fought for air, and her hands pulled against his own. Yet he seemed made of iron, and she nothing but chaff. There was no relenting of his death grip.

"Don't try to lie to me!" the ashen-skinned man's voice was loud as thunder in Teresa's ears. "I know you cursed me! That's why every gladiator I bet on loses! It's all your fault, yours! You Witches have always had it in for me, but I know how to deal with you!"

"What's going on back there?" The low growl came from the mouth of the alley. In an instant the iron bands of the Dunmer's fingers disappeared from Teresa's throat, and the glittering steel of his blade vanished into one of his flaxen sleeves. He took a moment to smile at Teresa, and the little wood elf imagined that was how a slaughterfish looked when it bared its teeth. Then he turned to face the Imperial Legionary standing behind him.

"Oh nothing." Now the dark elf's voice was smooth and carefree, like a playful wind on a cool Spring day. His hand dipped into a pocket, and darted forth like quicksilver a moment later to toss a copper reman at Teresa. "I was just doing my part to help this poor unfortunate here, praise merciful Stendarr."

"Move along citizen." The soldier continued to glare at the Dunmer, who now stepped away. He paused a moment to glance back at Teresa, and the daggers in his eyes spoke volumes. Then he stepped lightly into the street beyond, and disappeared into the crowds.

"And you…" Now the legionary lowered his steely gaze to Teresa's shaking form, and she could swear that she could see his lip curl in disgust through the slit in his helmet. "You filthy little degenerate. Don't think I don't know what you are up to. Too young to join the prostitutes guild, so your selling yourself in the alleys. Maybe they do that in Valenwood or Morrowind, but we don't tolerate that kind of depravity here in Cyrodiil!"

"But I'm not-"

"Don't back-talk your betters you point-ear trash!" Now a gauntleted fist wrapped itself around the sack cloth of her tunic and pressed her hard against the stone wall behind her. The Imperial leaned down close enough for the wood elf to smell the garlic on his breath. "You elves are no better than animals. Can't even use a latrine like a civilized Imperial. One more word out of you, and you'll be staring at the inside of the Imperial Prison, you little harlot! Do you understand me!"

Biting her lip, Teresa nodded vigorously. Her heart raced in her chest, and she prayed to Nocturnal that the legionary would leave her alone. Perhaps her desperate plea was heard, for a moment later the soldier released her from his steely grip and straightened.

"Now don't let me catch you at it again," the Imperial rumbled in a low tone, "or I'll see you pay for your depravity you foul little elf."

With a clank of metal on metal, the soldier was gone, leaving Teresa shaking and alone in the alley. Her knees turned to water, and the next thing she knew she was on the ground and weeping. Her throat ached from the Dunmer's strangling fingers, and the stink of urine rose from her dripping legs. Curling up into a ball on the broken pavestones, she wished Simplicia were there to hold her. Somehow, the old woman always knew how to make things better. Yet the old woman was all the way in the Market District, and Teresa was all alone…

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 02:15 AM

[hazmick]

seeing Valen Dreth makes me wish I had joined the dark brotherhood and kick his Dunmer behind straight back to morrowind. Then we all thought a nice, kind guard would save the day but no! he's no better Poor Teresa, the arena is no place for a beggar, the market district is way more profitable

My Argonain laughs at all the warm-blooded folk, suffering in the heat of Magnus' fire. You need to find a nice rock and absorb as much heat as you can, more fuel for begging

This post has been edited by hazmick: Aug 19 2010, 05:28 PM