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

[Winter Wolf]

Wow, what a fantastic volume of work this has turned into. Awesome!!

I hate to think how many hours you have put into this. Sleep, eat, work. Everything else - get lost!!

I really enjoyed Methredhel. She is one of those characters that defines the waterfront. So cool that you give her so much depth of feeling.

[SubRosa]

D.Foxy: Thank you foxy. This chapter is finished. I am just taking my time posting it, as always.


haute ecole rider: I am glad you thought this chapter was exciting. I was afraid most folks would be getting bored since there has not been any battles in a while. I went back and worked your gang name into the previous post.


treydog: Thank you dog. Those were two of my favorite chapters, because of how much depth it gives Vols, Simplicia, and Teresa's relationships with them. And yes, I did turn of Umbacano's creepiness in purpose.


hazmick: Thank you haz. In the next few segments Dreth will indeed wish he had never crossed the Tamriel Terrors!


Acadian: Thank you Acadian. I had a lot of fun squeezing an appearance by Pappy into this chapter. He is not the only supporting character to make a visit in the past, as this next segment will show. I also wanted to find some way to weave Teresa's spirit guide in as well, as a subtle reminder that it has indeed always been with her, only she never paid attention.


Olen: Thank you Olen. I am glad people are liking Little Teresa and the gang. As I said to h.e.r., I was afraid that it might seem dull.


Winter Wolf: Thank you Wolf. I spend a lot of time working on these chapters! But it all pays off when I see the end result. Methredhel has always been one of my favorite characters, from way before I ever did the Thieves Guild quest. So I always look forward to writing her.


Next: The Bosmer Brigands head to the Arena for a final showdown with Valen Dreth


* * *

Chapter 15.6 - Old Friends, Not Forgotten

Teresa scanned the crowd within the Arena and tried to make herself look small. Not a difficult thing to do being a child surrounded by adults. She stood among the upper rows of stone benches that ringed the interior of the building. From within, it was clear to Teresa that the amphitheater was not truly circular, as it appeared to be from the outside, but rather was stretched out in to a long ellipse.

Looking down from the cheap seats where she stood, her eyes passed over the rings of benches that made their way down the interior of the Arena. There were breaks in the seating at regular intervals, where aisleways led up and down the seats, and tunnels led to the concourse that ringed the outer wall of the amphitheater, underneath the floor upon which she stood.

Tens of thousands of people of all races jammed into the seats and walked to and fro. The farther down her eyes looked, the better dressed Teresa found they were. Where most of the spectators were commoners like herself, far down near the floor of the Arena could be seen patricians in their velvet and silk. Yet even they still had to sit upon stone benches as everyone else.

Beyond them, in the very first row overlooking the fighting area itself, were those not only wealthy enough to afford the best clothing, but also sporting the Imperial purple. Only members of the Imperial family and the Elder Council were allowed to wear that color, Teresa knew. As she gazed upon the Councilors, their families, and guests, she saw that they sat upon velvet-padded seats, ate fruit from silver platters, and drank wine from goblets that sparkled from encrusted gemstones.

Further down, the very bottom of the Arena was walled off from the crowd, and stretched in a rectangle hundreds of feet long. Barred gateways led into the fighting ground from intervals in the walls. When she had first come in, there had been men fighting on the sandy floor. Now they were gone however, and the entire area was slowly filling with water.

She felt a tugging at her sleeve, and turned to see Adanrel standing there. "We found our mark," she shouted into Teresa's ear. In spite of her yell, Teresa could only barely hear the other wood elf over the noise of the crowd. "Those two down there, the man in blue and the woman in red!"

Teresa nodded, and followed the other girl down the steep aisleway to the lower levels of the amphitheater. As they neared the floor, she got a better look at the two that Adanrel had indicated. The man was an Imperial, with the olive skin and dark hair so characteristic of his race. He wore blue velvet stitched with cloth-of-gold, and Teresa noted that he did not carry a weapon, not even a dagger. The woman beside him was clad in a brilliant gown of red silk quilted into numerous diamonds, each centered with a golden pin. Her brown hair was done up behind her head in a complicated pattern of knots, and held together by jeweled sticks.

Most of all, Teresa noted that there was no armored thug hovering over them. No bodyguard, she thought, and the man not even armed. What fools. They deserved to be robbed.

Now Methredhel appeared from the crowd. Teresa had no idea where she had come from. One moment she was simply there, smiling at her with a twinkle in her emerald eyes. "You remember what to do right?"

Teresa nodded, swallowing hard as she thought about her part in the plan. She would rather have taken Adanrel's place running interference. But that would have been impossible, and they all knew it.

"Remember to wait for our signal before you start." Methredhel cautioned. Then she turned to Adanrel. "Alright, let's go pick the peacock's feathers."

With that the two of them scampered off, giggling and yelping like silly children. Adanrel took the lead as they careened down the aisleway two steps at a time. Teresa almost winced as the young wood elf crashed directly into the woman in red, then fell away, only to collapse into her male companion. Methredhel was right behind, adding her own small body to the fray.

Teresa was too far away to hear what was said, but from the look on the man's face he was scolding the two girls for being so clumsy. For their own part, the two Bosmer appeared to be making hasty apologies as they disengaged themselves and stumbled back to the aisleway, this time moving more slowly and carefully.

Had it worked? Teresa wondered. The pair seemed no different than before. Looking back to the two girls, she saw they were now working their way through the benches across the amphitheater. Methredhel paused to look back, and grinned widely. She had done it! Teresa knew, and her heart leaped. This might actually work!

Her eyes were glued to the pair as they reached the next aisleway and steadily worked their way higher up through the crowd. Finally they came to a Dunmer whose face she knew all too well. It was the madman who had haunted her steps for the last three days. He stood just a few paces from the aisle, eating a stuffed flatbread wrap and drinking from a clay tankard.

Adanrel and Methredhel cut directly through the row he was standing in, forcing everyone to squeeze back to allow them through. Adanrel made a repeat of her previous performance, albeit this time less dramatically. Appearing to lose her footing, she leaned heavily against the Dunmer, who precariously balanced his ale in one hand and wrap in the other. She saw Methredhel's hand dart in then, and a moment later pull back. Then the two girls moved on, and the madman settled back to his lunch without a second thought.

Teresa gulped again. Now it was her turn. Before she could talk herself out of it, she stepped down the aisleway and tugged at the sleeve of the woman in red. She could not believe how soft and smooth the material of her gown felt under her fingertips. It was like nothing she had ever felt in her life. More importantly, it revealed that the woman's wrist was indeed bare, as Teresa had hoped.

"Your pardon milady," the street urchin began, trying to sound as obsequious as possible. "But you've been robbed."

"What?" the woman's voice was high, and had that lilting quality that most Bretons seemed to possess. Her eyes widened in shock. Teresa was not sure at what, feeling a mangy street urchin touch her, or the news that she had been burglarized. "What do you mean? Who are you?"

"Yes, just what is this about?" Her companion leaned down over Teresa like a dark thundercloud. Where she had barely been able to hear the soft voice of the woman, his words boomed like thunder in her ears. "What do you think you are up to prole?"

"Honest my lord," Teresa bit her lower lip and pointed at the Breton woman's wrist. "Your lady, her bracelet, it's been stolen."

"Oh by the Nine, she's right!" the Breton cried out, one hand clamping down upon the bare flesh above her hand. "The one you gave me for our engagement, it's gone!"

"And I suppose you know who stole it, don't you?" The Imperial boomed, and Teresa did not like the way he was glowering down upon her. "Probably because you did it yourself, and now you think you can sell it right back to us!"

"No sir!" Teresa cried. Her heart pounded in her chest like a race horse, and she could not keep her eyes from flying open. "By the Nine my lord. I swear! I didn't take it!" At least that part was true, Teresa thought, and she turned to point up into the stands, toward the Dunmer. "He did."

"He was never down here," the Imperial growled.

This was not going at all the way she had imagined it, the young wood elf thought. She had better think of something quick, or Methredhel's plan was going to unravel like twenty year-old sackcloth. "He was invisible! He uses scrolls to do it."

"And how would you know that, unless you are working for him?" the man went on, and Teresa had to fight the urge to bolt while she still could.

"Everyone down here knows what he does," she explained. "He brags about it. How he fleeces rich folk who come to the Arena. He was showing off your lady's bracelet just a few minutes ago!"

"We'll just see about that!" the man seemed satisfied, and pushed his way past Teresa and into the aisleway. "I'm going to go talk to this man, and see if what you say is true. If it isn't then I won't be happy. You understand me."

Teresa wilted under his glare. Her tongue deserted her, so all she could do was nod in return. It was his fiance who spoke next however.

"Why Raminus!" she cried, "you are terrifying this poor little girl, who is only trying to help us!"

The man's voice softened as he looked to the woman. "My dear Cornelia, you have never been to the Imperial City before. You have no idea the depths some people will sink to here. We'll see if she's telling the truth. You'd better stay here while I take her and see this man."

His hand reached out for Teresa, but with the quickness of a cat, the urchin dodged aside. Leaping behind the woman, she clung to her skirts, as if to hide behind them.

"Please my lady!" she wailed, not having to act too hard at feigning her terror. "Don't let him take me! If he knows it's me who turned him in, he'll kill me for sure!"

Teresa was gratified when the woman's hand came down upon her head, and the Breton moved to place herself protectively between Teresa and her fiancé. "Raminus don't, can't you see she is terrified. Oh the poor dear. She can stay with me while you see to that ruffian."

The Imperial - Raminus - looked like he was going to say something, and Teresa did her best to make her eyes look wide and innocent. It was a look she practiced while begging. Sometimes it even worked. It must have this time, for he turned away with a shake of his head and strode across the amphitheater toward the Dunmer.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 02:22 AM

[D.Foxy]

Didn't see THAT one coming....oh Rosie you are one, bad-boat, evil, brilliant, revenge plotting GEE NEE YUS!!!!

[hazmick]

well played Very dramatic, it just goes to show that you should NEVER mess with a Bosmer.

[haute ecole rider]

Oh yeah! So THAT'S how Dreth ends up in jail, huh?

Did the girls plan it, or was it pure accident? On the one hand, I can see them doing it to take care of Dreth; on the other hand I can see them framing him, turning him in and collecting the reward. Oh, well, I will have to wait for the next installment of the Bosmer Brigands!

[Kazaera]

Yay more Teresa!

I am really loving the flashback chapters! The girls are so adorable, while at the same time clearly being shaped by their rough pasts (Teresa especially. ) I love their plan to take care of Dreth, who really has it coming, picking on a poor little girl like that...

[Acadian]

Very clever SubRosa! My goodness you put a ton of thought and creativity into this!

And brilliantly presented. The centerpiece (to me) was Teresa coaxing the 'marks' to fall for it. I was on the edge of my seat, but by the Nine, she did it! You brought up everything that could go wrong with the plan, but then made having it work seem like the only outcome that could have possibly happened.

A wonderful description of the Arena in the midst of just another day of bloodletting. I'm wondering a couple things:
- May I presume that Raminus is none other than our friend from the Arcane University? That would explain his lack of need for weaponry.
- I seem to recall flooding ancient Arenas for a purpose, but please refresh me.

A cliffie for sure, but I shall chuckle in admiration until you resolve what happens to old Dreth.

Nit-

Her brown hair was done up behind her head in an complicated pattern of knots, and held together by jeweled sticks.

I believe you want 'a' here.

[haute ecole rider]

- I seem to recall flooding ancient Arenas for a purpose, but please refresh me.

In ancient Rome, they used to flood the arena (not the Coliseum, I don't think, but I could be wrong) to re-enact naval battles.

[Olen]

Another tense, and tightly plotted installment. I think because it's a flashback and so of limited length it comes across as a short-story within your setting (building on characters we know) and you've taken full advantage of the opportunity for a tense subplot, and tense it was. The theft and plant were a good builtup and then her persuading them was excellent.

And a cunning vengeance, I can't imagine they'd put dreth down for that long for pickpocketing so it makes me wonder if Teresa is the reason he was in jail, or if something else happens. I await with excitment.

And as ever a little more worldbuilding with flooding the arena (and it's description). You're version of Cyrodiil is a rich place now, it makes me hope Teresa decides to take a trip abroad at some point in her future...

[treydog]

14.1
Another good bit of world- (and society) building here, with the arrogant Imperials. And I loved the description of the granaries- and the ominously under-populated barracks.

Second paragraph:

…just as she and the other's had done.

I think a stray daedra left an apostrophe in amongst your “others”.

14.2

The wonderful descriptions have already been noted.

The meeting with Phillida is brilliant- we see a brief return of the Teresa bravado AND get some hint as to why he is a successful general.

14.3

Teresa’s words of wisdom and comfort to Baurus show that she has indeed changed.

The room was very simply furnished, and brightly illuminated by glowstones perched atop sconves in either wall.

Your sconces are again being difficult- perhaps if you fed them one of Destri’s scones they would behave? Or maybe they would prefer a sweet roll?

It made her wonder how much of what she read in the Black Horse Courier - or heard people was talking about…

An extra “was,” I believe. Just how much Tamika’s has Teresa had?

14.4
Ohhhh! Piner at the Priory with a dagger! Makes me wonder what other kind of rot we will discover within the Empire’s woodwork.

"So did the glowing stone Julian took from the Oblivion Gate have something to do with that?" Teresa asked. The other Redguard never had answered her question about that when they had talked the other day, and it had been in the back of the forester's mind ever since.

Teresa’s persistent curiosity makes another appearance.

'Me, a spy?" Teresa squeaked. That seemed even more preposterous than her being a bodyguard! "I don't know the first thing about spying on people. I'm just a girl from the street."

It is so much fun to see our elf vacillating between the confident tone she (briefly) takes with Phillida and this return to her previous state of doubt. Of course, as Baurus (and a certain fellow name Sherlock Holmes) knows, street people make wonderful spies.

Despite her qualifications, her decision makes sense. And, by agreeing to correspond through the drop, she is more of a Blades agent than she realizes…. Clever fellow, that Baurus.

The last thing she wanted was to be on short list of the Grandmaster of the Blades.

I think her fear transmitted itself to a “the” between “on” and “short”.

15.1

One of the hardest things about growing older is the “growing apart” you so ably illustrate here. Friends who once shared everything begin to discover that they are different people now, and hardly know how to relate to one another.

15.2

This was a bittersweet interlude on many levels. Friends going different directions, city elf vs. forest elf, and some unrequited lust… Your style makes this one sing, even if the song is a little melancholy.

"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 the Teresa. "Really, I'm happy with dinner at the Bloated Float. It's not like we're rich. You should sell it."

The “the” that escaped above seems to have tried to sneak back in.

15.3

An incredibly powerful installment. To first be accosted and assaulted (by Valen Dreth!) and then abused further by her nominal “rescuer.” The origins of her feelings about the Legion are clear.

15.4

And you pull us back from the darkness with a look at the young Methredhel and Adanrel that is nothing short of beautiful. Nothing to say that has not already been said more eloquently.

15.5

And an early meeting with Pappy. I wonder if the waspish Dunmer with him is Oreyn?

And perhaps another bit of foreshadowing, with Valen Dreth’s "I'm coming for you"?

An incredibly tense and again, cinematic, chase. Your writing is so clear that every moment was visible to me as I read. No worries about being dull- I think most of your fanatical readership is, well, fanatical precisely because we love character-driven stories. And your brilliant descriptions of the IC make it another character in your rich and varied cast.

15.6

Methie is already showing her aptitude for the Thieves Guild. And the plan is brilliant, as well. Loved the description of the Arena.

Paragraph one: “amphitheatre.” Paragraph two forward: “amphitheater.” I think your style-sheet abandoned you…

"What?" the woman's voice was high, and had that lilting quality that most Breton's seemed to possess.

Another one of those daedra-dropped apostrophes worked its way into your plural noun.

What!? I’m caught up? But, but… that means I will have to wait along with everyone else for the next installment of The IC Char-Mers. And I HATE waiting!

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 02:23 AM

[SubRosa]

D.Foxy: Thank you fox. I am glad what the girls were up to was not too obvious


hazmick: Let alone mess with three Bosmer!


haute ecole rider: Yes indeed, this is how everyone's favorite convict wound up in the cell across the hall from you. I had a lot of fun using this chapter to tie in characters from both the ES universe in general and the TF in particular into Teresa's past. It was indeed all Methredhel's plan, hence the last sentence of the previous segment.


Kazaera: Thank you Kazaera. It always feels good to see the underdog win, and Little Teresa is certainly that.


Acadian: Thank you Acadian. I spent several days going over the plot to this chapter again and again. I am so glad the end result has worked so well for so many people. My main concern has been that Methredhel's sting operation comes off too smoothly, but it sounds like Raminus threw enough bumps in the road to keep that from happening. Speaking of Raminus, which one he is will be shown this next segment.

And yes, the Romans did flood the Colosseum to stage naval battles as h.e.o. mentioned. However, I think they had to stop doing that after they built in the underground levels, which was only a few decades after it was opened. So it was not for a long time. I figure in the ES they can get around the flooding problem with magic.


Olen: Thank you Olen. I never really thought of the flashback this way, but you are right. It is a story within a story. I am glad it is working.


treydog: Where would I be without my editor to swat those Daedric apostrophe's, not to mention the recalcitrant sconces? You are finally caught up!

Its funny, because even Teresa knows that street people make the best spies, as we will see her using one for just that purpose later in the tale! And just as you and others noted, Baurus still has her working for him, even though she turned him down!

That annoying Dunmer with the mohawk was indeed Oreyn. I almost put his name in there, but Pappy calling him "ash-face" sounded more natural.


Next: The final showdown with Valen Dreth.

* * *

Chapter 15.7 - Old Friends, Not Forgotten

Teresa let out a long sigh of relief. Thank Nocturnal! she thought. She had no idea it would have been so hard to convince someone they had been pick-pocketed! The Breton woman must have felt her trembling, because she let her hand drop around the street urchin's shoulders and gave her a gentle hug.

"There now little one," Cornelia said in that soothing tone of her race. "Everything will be alright. My Raminus will put paid to that blackguard!"

"But he's not even armed," Teresa observed, "or with a hired man."

"Raminus does not need weapons," the woman scoffed, and Teresa could see her slender frame swell with pride. "He is a weapon. He is a master of Destruction at the Arcane University. The youngest magister to ever become a sage."

Teresa gulped. Methredhel sure could pick them! Thank Nocturnal it was not the Arch-Mage himself!

Then the booming voice of the Arena announcer filled the stands, drowning out everything else. Teresa wondered how he could talk so loud, and imagined that it must be the doing of magic.

"Lords and Ladies of Cyrodiil, I am pleased to announce a special waterborne bout for this afternoon. Sailing into the Arena is our first contender. The Serpent King of Black Marsh, the most dreaded pirate of the seas, Captain Vistha-Kai!"

Teresa glanced down, and saw a barge floating out into the center of the Arena. On it was an Argonian wearing the spiked leather raiment that all gladiators wore. He carried a trident in one hand, and a net was carefully arranged upon one of his shoulders, held by his other hand.

The crowd erupted into a chorus of cheers, and people leaped to their feet all around. When finally they settled down once more, Teresa saw that another barge was floating out into the water now. This one contained the strangest looking orc the street urchin had ever seen. Rather than being the deep green of all his race, his skin was a chalky grey in color, nearly white. He clenched an entirely normal-looking shield in one hand, and a steel arming sword in the other.

"Now, a newcomer to the Arena!" the announcer's voice boomed out once more. "An Orisimer like none other, he calls himself The Grey Prince! It is Agronak gro-Malog!"

"Now what is your name little girl?" the Breton's voice pulled Teresa's attention away from the curious orc. Cornelia's hand rose to the street urchin's head, and her fingers traced their way through the pattern of braids that Adanrel had woven into her hair. Framing her face, they gathered together at the nape of her neck and from there fell into a single bob. "Such lovely hair you have."

"I'm Teresa my lady," Teresa lowered her eyes, distinctly aware of how warm her cheeks were turning at the woman's praise.

"Well, I am Cornelia Arganeael, from Wayrest," she announced. "Soon to be the Lady Polus. Now that we have been properly introduced, I am sure we shall come to be good friends."

Teresa nodded, not sure what to say. Looking back up the rows of seats, she saw that her fiancé had reached the Dunmer. He immediately began talking to the elf, and Teresa could see him gesturing with his finger toward the other man's pockets. The look on the Dunmer's face went from initial surprise to a dark, angry glare. It only took a few moments for him to shove Raminus away, sending him sprawling down the steps of the aisle.

"Oh Raminus!" The Breton started beside her, practically leaping from the row of benches where they stood. Teresa felt her heart begin to pound in her chest. She had not been expecting that! Biting her lip once more, she hoped that the Imperial had not been hurt by his tumble down the stair.

Teresa was relieved when he rose to his feet a moment later, and took a moment to dust himself off. His hand spiked into the air above his head, and a yellow glow descended around his frame. Then he resolutely made his way back up the steps toward the Dunmer. Before he could reach the dark elf, he was intercepted by one of the Arena guards, an orc wearing mail and carrying a mace at his hip. Teresa could see that Raminus said something to the guard, who stepped in front of the Imperial and led him back to the dark elf.

The orc reached out to grab the Dunmer. But the madman whirled out of reach. Teresa saw a flash of steel in his hand, and a moment later she saw the knife buried nearly to the hilt in the Orisimer's armored breast. The green mer staggered back, and fell heavily to the steps as the Dunmer shoved his way past and raced up the steps.

He did not get far however. Teresa's eyes dazzled with afterimages as a bolt of lightning forked out from the hand Raminus Polus and crackled up the aisleway. The madman was thrown forward as the blast struck him square in the back. He hit the stone steps face-first, smoke curling up from his charred clothing. Teresa could see he was still moving afterward, albeit only barely. Then the spectators around the fray rose to their feet and blocked off her view.

Teresa tried to squeeze her way through the crowd to get a better view, but a hand from Cornelia stopped her. "We had better wait here little Teresa," she insisted, "Raminus will return soon enough." The street urchin could see that she was biting her lip as well. However, the glow in her eyes did not look pensive. Rather it seemed excited, almost predatory.

In that moment Teresa remembered something that she had once heard the orc who owned Slash And Smash say: "Women say they don't like it. But the truth is nothing gets them more worked up than bringing them the still-beating heart of an enemy. Gets them hot as the Alik'r Desert." Teresa had always thought it sounded ridiculous, but when she looked into Cornelia's eyes, she saw that the orc had been dead right.

It took several minutes for the commotion to die down and the spectators to retake their seats. Teresa was able to glimpse the Dunmer being dragged away by a pair of the Arena guards. She could see that one was the guard who had been stabbed, and relief flooded through her. Thank Nocturnal he was alright, she thought. What if he had died because of her?

"Well Cornelia, this has certainly been an exciting day." The voice of Raminus Polus caused Teresa to nearly jump out of her clothes. Spinning around, she saw him standing with a white-gold bracelet in hand. It was shaped like two cords tied together into a knot, and was crusted with sparkling diamonds.

It must have been worth a fortune, Teresa realized. To think that Methredhel put it in the Dunmer's pocket, when she could have kept it instead… Her heart leapt at the thought. Methredhel had done that for her, and they had only just met the day before! Who else in the world would have done such a thing, except Simplicia of course?

"Oh Raminus, thank Mara you are alright!" The Breton threw her arms around the Imperial and kissed him. Not a little peck on the lips either. From where Teresa was standing, it looked like she was sucking his lungs out. The street urchin looked away, feeling vaguely ill. Why did grown-ups always want to do gross things like that? she wondered. One thing was for certain, when she was big, she never would!

"You were masterful my dear." The sound of Cornelia's voice brought Teresa's gaze back to the pair. For if she was speaking again, it meant she must have stopped kissing him. "Did you kill that foul beast?" The street urchin saw that the elegant lady was fixing the bracelet around her wrist once more. Then the Imperial filled her vision.

"No, merely wounded him, although I imagine that lightning bolt will leave quite a mark…" the Imperial declared, and Teresa could detect a certain amount of smug pride in his voice. "I would not want to deprive the Imperial Prison of a new resident after all! That blackguard will have plenty of years to rue the day he thought to rob the new Lady Polus!"

And you my young lady," the magician turned to Teresa, leaning down with his hands on his hips. "It seems I owe you an apology. I was wrong about you, and you have my humblest retraction of my earlier statements. We should be lost without your gracious intervention, and I mean to make it up to you."

Teresa's eyes widened. He was spouting a lot of big words, but if the mage meant what she thought he did, he was going to give her a reward! That had never been part of the plan! Teresa had no idea what to say. All she had ever hoped for was to be free of the madman.

"Well let it not be said that the Polus' are stingy when it comes to honoring faithful service!" Cornelia declared, drawing a purse from her waist that bulged with coins. Yet the Imperial held up a hand to stop her from giving it to Teresa.

"If we give you money, how long before someone finds out you have it, and takes it away?" he asked, "or even slits your throat to get it?"

Teresa did not know what to say. Her eyes were still glued on the velvet purse, imagining all the shining gold that must be packed away within it. The magician's final remark did sink in however. What would the gangs do to her if they found out she had money? Beat her to a pulp? kill her? Not a doubt.

"You seem to suffer some pretty hard knocks in your life." The magister now pointed to the bruises on Teresa's forearms from the previous day's tumble through the fruit stand and wagon train, and then to the splotches on her neck from where the Dunmer had choked her. "How about I give you something that can help you with that? Something that no one can ever take away from you?"

Teresa stared up at him dumbfounded. What on Nirn could he be talking about? she wondered.

"Tell me, do you know anything about magic?"


Note: Writing this chapter prompted me to go back and change the origin of Teresa's Heal and Flare spells to Raminus Polus.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 02:23 AM

[D.Foxy]

Oh, what a slick plotter you are, Rosa...


... in ALL senses of the word!!!

[hazmick]

The grey prince? well well. Your story has brought lots of characters together and has revealed some brilliant history. The origins of Teresa's magic abilities are woven seamlessly into the story. Bosmer power!

[treydog]

There are so many little touches of genius here that it is difficult to isolate my favorites-

The fact that Teresa’s formerly “tangled” hair has been dressed by Adanrel to the extent that the elegant Breton lady comments on it.

The elements of the “games” in the Arena- including a sighting of the Grey Prince!

The origin of Teresa’s rudimentary spells- and Raminus’ insight that they are safer than gold.

But I think the best moment of all is Teresa’s revelation about the depth of friendship that Methredhel has offered.

Those darned daedra have moved up from apostrophes to definite articles! (And they seem to have an affinity for Cornelia. Must be the innate magical nature of Bretons that attracts them.)

Now what is your name little girl?" the Breton's voice pulled Teresa's attention away from the curious orc. The Cornelia's hand rose to the...

“Teresa tried to squeeze her way through the crowd to get a better view, but a hand from the Cornelia stopped her.”

[haute ecole rider]

"Oh Raminus, thank Mara you are alright!" The Breton threw her arms around the Imperial and kissed him. Not a little peck on the lips either. From where Teresa was standing, it looked like she was sucking his lungs out. The street urchin looked away, feeling vaguely ill. Why did grown-ups always want to do gross things like that? she wondered. One thing was for certain, when she was big, she never would!

First the nit: It's all right, cuz it's never alwrong.

Now the praise. This paragraph made me laugh out loud, as I seldom do when reading the TF (like her faint smiles, chuckles and amused grins are more common). But Teresa's reaction to the sight of the two kissing is much like any child's - fascinated, grossed out, and vaguely embarrassed. As for never kissing like that, we'll see. I'm sure Nerussa will change Teresa's mind!

[Acadian]

Very nicely done!

The prank almost got way out of hand. Many lessons for Teresa to ponder, no doubt. I was delighted to see this lead to a very logical long-term jail sentencs for Dreth.

Young Agronak! Yay!

Methredhel had done that for her, and they had only just met the day before!

Rather than tell, you have shown us a glimpse into what Methredhel is made of - quite solid stuff it seems. Well done.

Nice job with Raminus and Cornelia - on many levels.

I think Raminus deciding to reward Teresa with some knowledge of magic was brilliant on his (and your) part.

nit?

...her fingers traced their way through the pattern of braids that Adanrel had woven into her hair. Framing her face, they gathering together at the nape of her neck and from there fell into a single bob.

Did you mean 'gathered'?

[Olen]

I like the idea of where her flare and heal spells came from, definatly useful thing to know and it shows good thought on Raminus's part. The value of the bracelet also was effective in showing how much Methredhel will do for her and is a good gauge of how close they will become.

There were some nice touches, putting in younger versions of characters from Oblivion was great for linking the flashback to the story and stopping it from floating apart. And now I can see how Dreth got such a long sentence, and the debt explains the db quest which says he felt safe there...

Cornelia was a brilliant creation too, your description of her enjoyment of Raminus sparking Dreth was excellent.

[SubRosa]

I have found the man to play Chance (For those of you who did not read Teresa 1.0 on the Beth forums, he appears in the future). Charles Ingram: stuntman, actor, and former Marine Force Recon diver.

A pic from Tears of the Sun

Aother from Tears of the Sun

A beefcake shot from Great White Appetite

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Aug 29 2010, 04:56 PM

[hazmick]

Tears of the Sun is such a great film...anyway, he would be a great addition.

[SubRosa]

D.Foxy: Slicker than snot on a marble?


hazmick: Thank you hazmick. I had a lot of fun bringing all these characters in for appearances in the past. Raminus Polus being the origin of Teresa's spells was never my intention when I wrote this. When I got to the end it just came out as being the natural thing to happen. So I went with it.


treydog: My Aedric editor once again saves me from the machinations of the foul Daedra!

Thank you trey. You cited all the main points I was looking to make in this segment, especially Teresa's understanding of just what lengths Methredhel was willing to go to for her.


haute ecole rider: I am going to keep alright as it is since it is part of dialogue, and it is often used that way there.

I am glad you liked Teresa's childish *eeeewwww* over seeing two people kissing. That was one of the more fun parts for me to write as well. Another one that was not planned on, but just came out when I was writing. Perhaps Nerussa will indeed change Teresa's mind...


Acadian: Thank you Acadian. The plot did indeed nearly go way too far. With the Arena guard nearly being killed and Dreth almost escaping. If Raminus had not been an accomplished magician things probably would have gone much worse.


Olen: Thank you Olen. I bet Raminus had the best sex of his life that night!


Next: We go back to the future for the conclusion of the chapter.

* * *

Chapter 15.8 - Old Friends, Not Forgotten

"To think that patrician taught you your Heal and Flare spells," Methredhel chuckled. "And all because we robbed him!"

Teresa bit her lip and turned her head to look at the other woman. Methredhel strode across the fields of heather, sun-bronzed skin shining and hair flowing out behind her. The forester was struck by how much she had changed since they were children, and how much she had not changed at all.

"I always did feel kind of bad about that," Teresa admitted. She looked ahead to the rocky hills before them. The air felt moist, and she wondered if she heard a gull screeching. They were near the lake, she sensed, perhaps only a mile or two away. "I was just glad to get rid of that madman, and that the guard he stabbed got healed."

"That's our Teresa," the forester could practically hear the other woman's head shake in amazement, "you always were an idealist, even in the gutter."

Now Teresa snorted. "Hardly. I just don't like the idea of other people suffering because of me," she said. "Life is hard enough for people, without someone making it worse for them."

"I always admired you Teresa." Now the thief stopped and met the forester's gaze. "When I think back, I can't believe how ridiculous Adanrel and I were, what kids we were. I mean, the Tamriel Terrors for Nocturnal's sake! But not you. You never were a kid. You were always so serious, like you knew something we didn't. Still you always humored us anyway. I've always looked up to you."

"What?" Teresa sputtered, feeling her eyes widen. The idea of anyone admiring her was just plain ludicrous.

"I'm serious," Methredhel said, and her features betrayed nothing but sincerity. "I had no idea how hard life could really be until my father left my mom and I, and we ended up in the Waterfront. But you, you always knew. I could see it in your eyes from the moment we met. When Adanrel and I were playing with dolls in our insula, you were on the street enduring the worst life had to offer. You showed me how strong, and how tough, someone can really be. You taught me how to survive."

Teresa knew she should say something, but as usual, her tongue had become a stone in her mouth. All of her life she had wished for Methredhel's confidence, her way with people, and her just plain brilliance. To think that all this time, she had been looking up to her? Teresa looked down at her feet, intensely aware of how Methredhel was staring at her. A familiar warmth was spreading through her cheeks when she felt the other woman's soft hand on her shoulder.

"Still can't take a compliment either I see," the other woman said, her voice now light. Teresa was thankful when the thief quickly changed the subject. "I wonder what ever happened to that crazy Dummer? At first I thought that mage killed him. But he was squirming when they dragged him off, so I guess he lived."

"I think they threw him in prison," Teresa offered, feeling more herself again now that the conversation was not about her. "After all, he had the bracelet on him, and he stabbed that orc."

That brought Teresa to a stop. Prison. The Dunmer taunting her from across the hall… Could that have been him? No, that was impossible, she thought with a shake of her head. After all these years, what was the chance of her ending up in a cell across from the same man who had tormented her as a child?

Looking back up, she found that Methredhel was staring ahead with a strange look on her face. Out of reflex Teresa drew the bowstave from her back and set a string to the weapon. Yet turning her head this way and that, the forester saw nothing untoward. The stony hills went on quietly all around. Nothing moved but for a few wild boar grazing in the distance.

"What is it?" she asked.

"You'd just think I'm crazy," Methredhel murmured, shading her eyes with the palm of her hand as she gazed ahead.

"You've been acting like this ever since we came out here," Teresa said. "Come on, spill it."

"Well, I keep thinking I see something," Methredhel explained, turning back to look at the forester. "Promise me you won't laugh?"

"I promise," Teresa insisted.

"Well, it's a fox. I keep seeing her in the distance. She looks at me, and then walks out of sight. Like she wants me to follow her. Last night I had the weirdest dream too…"

"Oh Methredhel that's your spirit guide!" Teresa wrapped her arms around the other woman and held her tightly. Perhaps they did not live in such different worlds after all…

* * *

"Legionary Macrinus, I've got a job for you."

The optio's bark brought the Imperial's gaze up from the copy of the Black Horse Courier that he had been reading. Leaping to his feet with a clatter of armor, the legionary stepped away from the bench he was sitting on and marched to the duty officer's desk.

The optio - an orc barely older than his own twenty five years - stared back up at him. The orc's expression was as sour as week-old milk, and once again Macrinus wished that Pierrick had not been transferred to Daggerfall. The old Breton had been easy to work under. But he had deserved his promotion to centurion, the legionary thought, and an assignment in his home city back in High Rock.

"We've got a release," the optio grumbled, shuffling through the heaps of parchment on the giant, upraised desk. "The paperwork just came down. It should have been this morning, but it looks like those idiot librarii lost it until now."

"Which one?" Macrinus asked, hoping it was not in the lower levels. The rats down there made his skin crawl. Especially after that one had tried to bite though his greave the other month.

"Sub-level two," the optio smiled, revealing the sharp incisors of a predator, "the pit."

Macrinus felt his heart sink. The pit, he thought, the lowest, filthiest, most revolting level of the prison. The gods must hate me, the legionary thought. The new optio certainly did. Taking the release form that the orc handed him, he stared down at the name written across it.

Valen Dreth, the legionary thought, this must be your lucky day. It certainly was not his.

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