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

[Acadian]

Welcome back, SubRosa and Teresa!

Oh how well we know the dilemma of shoot first or declare yourself. Really a challenge for scrawny or stringy wood elves who just can't hold up toe-to-toe if they choose wrong. You portrayed Teresa's reasoning perfectly.

It stood on two legs and had pointed ears like a mer, but was hairless, and bore a serpentine tail that whipped out behind it. It raised its clawed hands, and stared at Teresa with the burning coals of its eyes. Opening its mouth in a hiss, Teresa saw long fangs within that dripped with saliva and glistened in the noon-day sun.

Gulp. Well I guess that answers Teresa's question. Here's what I'm thinkin': http://images.uesp.net//d/dd/OBCreature-scamp.jpg

This post has been edited by Acadian: Sep 15 2010, 02:37 AM

[SubRosa]

hazmick: Thank you haz. It is nice to be back to the green fields of Nirn. Although I do miss Three-Dog Awwwwoooo! The Black Horse Courier just cannot compete with him.


Destri Melarg: It was indeed my intention to write a ruin (although you will note that mine is overgrown with grass and flowers). I did mean to go with they. They is often used as a non-gendered pronoun. It should only be used for inanimate objects, using it to refer to people is highly insulting.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. I worked hard to make the ruin come to life.


treydog: Life is tough for an archer, because shooting from stealth is their best option. Teresa wishes she had a mouse cursor that would turn red whenever she put it over a person to tell they are an enemy, or green to show it they are not.


Acadian: Now Teresa is in the same quandary that Buffy was not long ago. We will see how well she deals with it.

You are indeed correct on the critter Teresa is facing, as the first paragraph of this segment will concur.


Next: In our last segment Teresa journeyed to the Ayleid ruin of Belda, where she met a less than friendly conjurer. Next she will have to fall back upon her growing combat skills to survive.


* * *

Chapter 16.2 - The Temple

A scamp! the forester thought as she dodged back behind the wall. The crackling of flame came to her ears as she pulled an arrow from the ground. A moment later the bolt of fire streaked past harmlessly, and Teresa stepped out with her arrow on the string. She let out half of her breath and drew the bow back to half-tension as she sighted in on the Daedra. Then she pulled the string to her cheek and loosed, stepping back to the cover of the wall without waiting to see if it had struck or not.

The screech of the Oblivion-spawn told her that it had hit home. Drawing forth another arrow, she heard the metallic ringing of a bell. That cannot be good, she thought to herself as she stepped back out, it meant the grey-robe was not alone.

"You're meat for the beast Bosmer!" came the voice of the conjurer. "Give up now and we'll make your sacrifice a quick one."

Teresa stepped back into the open with her bow at the ready. The scamp stood before her with one of her steel-tipped arrows in its stomach. She saw fire blossom from its fingertips, and a moment later it came streaking at her in a glowing yellow ball. She easily stepped aside to allow the magical flames to pass, and put another arrow into the monster's chest. It fell with a thump, and an instant later vanished in a swirl of blue light.

Teresa saw the grey-robe standing behind where it had been. He held an iron triangle in one hand, and a metal wand in the other. A simple bell, Teresa thought, she had seen them plenty of times in the farms she had passed since she had begun her woodland excursions. As she watched, he dropped the bell and thrust out a hand. Lightning crackled in the air, and Teresa leaped back to the cover of the wall just in time to avoid being fried to a crisp by the magical energy.

"You're only prolonging your pain tree-hugger!" the taunting voice of the conjurer rang out once more. "The Ebon Moon eclipses all!"

He was just a lookout, the forester thought to herself, there would be more coming. She would have to finish this quickly, or run for it before it was too late.

With that in mind she drew a third arrow from the bag at her hip. Pulling the stopper from the jar of poison at her waist, she thrust the slender, leaf-shaped arrowhead within. When she withdrew it a moment later, it was covered with a black viscous substance. Setting the arrow to her bow, she raised the stave and pulled it back to half tension before she stepped out from behind the wall again.

She saw the conjurer standing to her left, and was just in time to see a disc of golden energy fall to his feet and vanish. For a brief moment his body was suffused by a yellow glow left behind by the spell, then it too disappeared. A Shield spell, she imagined.

Then the forester caught the sight of movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to the right just in time to see an Altmer come charging out of the opened Ayleid door. He was wearing the same grey robe with a black crescent as the first magician. In one hand he clutched a jagged dagger that Teresa recognized as Daedric in origin.

Without thinking, she pulled the string back to her cheek and loosed, the image of the second mage filling her vision. The feathered shaft of her arrow blossomed from his chest, and the high elf went falling back through the doorway and out of sight.

Not waiting around, Teresa leaped back behind the wall. An instant later the air was lit by flashing light, and electricity sizzled through the space where she had stood a moment before. Poisoning another arrow and setting it to her bow, the forester was about to step back out when she heard the sound of shouting from around the wall.

"Melandil is down!" came a distinctly feminine voice, "shot by an arrow!"

"The archer's behind that wall!" rang out the first magician, "A filthy Bosmer strumpet!"

"Call up your summons, we'll overwhelm her." Now came a third voice. This was definitely male, with the sing-song accent of a Breton.

Teresa heard multiple whooshing sounds erupt behind the wall, and knew that the magicians were all summoning Daedra. She could only hope they were more scamps, like the first. If not she was in serious trouble. In any case, she was not going to try to fight it out against three magicians and three summons. Instead she wasted no time fleeing down the hill, taking care to keep the wall between her and the conjurers for as long as she could.

She was over a dozen paces away when she heard fresh shouts ring out from the hilltop. Risking a glance back over her shoulder, she saw that a pair of scamps were in hot pursuit of her, fanged maws grinning with dark joy. Further up the hill stood a woman made of flames. She gestured with one of her hands, and a bolt of fire leaped out.

A flame atronach, Teresa thought as she dodged out of the way of the slow-moving firebolt. She wondered how accomplished a conjurer you had to be to summon one of those? Zig-zagging her way down the hill, she heard more shouts. She realized that she was heading west when the broken flagstones of the ancient road appeared under her feet. Ahead was the shattered archway she had seen earlier, spanning the once-great boulevard. Teresa stopped beside it and turned, raising her bow.

She saw there were now four mages charging down the hill, all dressed in the same grey robes. Before them came the pair of scamps she had seen before, the flame atronach, and now a dremora. The fourth Daedra wore the rough-looking metal armor of its kind, and carried a spiked mace in its fist.

Teresa ignored the summoned creatures. She knew from her Vilverin experience that she had to kill the summoners. Otherwise they would just keep calling up more monsters. With that in mind she set her sights upon one of the figures, raising her bow to make up for the range and higher altitude of the conjurer. Pulling the string back to her cheek with every ounce of muscle in her arms and shoulders, she loosed an instant later.

Then she turned and rushed down the hill again. Lightning crackled and flame roared through the air behind her. Yet none of the magical attacks hit her as she darted across the open ground. She did hear a strangled cry behind her, and the sound of someone falling.

A hit! Her heart leaped at the thought, and she hoped that if it did not kill the conjurer outright, that they would not notice the nightshade on the arrowhead until it was too late. She did not risk a glance back to see however. Instead she ran with all the speed her legs could muster, the oak and pine forest coming ever closer before her.

Just a few more feet, she thought, and she would be under cover. The raucous cry of a raven filled her left ear. Without thinking she firmly planted one foot and pushed off against it, bounding to that side. Lightning crackled past, striking the turf with a shower of dirt and fried heather where she would have been had she not turned.

Thank you Raven, she thought as she sped into the trees, gulping for breath. Stepping behind the cover of an oak, she drew forth a Restore Fatigue potion from her hip and guzzled it in one breath. She really was going to have to start exercising more, she thought to herself. There would not always be time for potions in the future.

In an instant, Teresa's lungs were filled with air and her limbs with energy. Feeling completely refreshed, she drew another arrow and set it to her bowstave. Drawing the weapon to half tension, she let out some of her breath and stepped back into view. The scamps and the dremora were closing fast, while the atronach and the conjurers lagged behind. She saw that all four of the latter were on their feet. But the robe of one was stained in blood, and he limped along with the help of another.

Teresa sighted in on the wounded mage and drew her bow back to her cheek. Letting fly, she paused long enough to see the arrow bury itself into the magician beside him. Damn, she silently cursed, she had hoped to finish off the injured one. Then the onrushing Daedra filled her vision, and the Bosmer turned and fled into the depths of the forest.

The forester led them deep into the woods. The Daedra, while undoubtedly accomplished fighters, were plainly out of their element among the oaks and pines. They blundered about like bulls in a porcelain shop, crashing through the underbrush, snapping twigs underfoot, and blundering into low-hanging branches. Their masters were even less adept in their pursuit, leaving Teresa with no trouble discerning where they were at any given moment.

For her own part Teresa moved swift and deliberately though the forest. Every tree was a friend, every bush an ally. All worked to hide her from the prying eyes of the conjurers. Gliding from one tree to another with ease, she quickly lost her pursuers in the maze of greenery.

One day she would come back, she vowed as she paused to catch her breath once more. But not until she had improved her skills, and learned more of this Ebon Moon. Perhaps she should even write a letter to Baurus about them? she thought. They were plainly connected to the Daedra. They might even be a cult like the Mythic Dawn were.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Sep 17 2010, 08:45 PM

[hazmick]

A very action-packed chapter here, well done! I liked Teresa's intimacy with the forest and the Conjurer's lacking forest skills Can't wait for the next segment.

[D.Foxy]

Hmmm.... far be it for me to be a spoilsport nitpicker obsessed with weapons realism...and yet I feel this must be said:

Running plays absolute HAVOC with your aim and coordination, especially with ranged weapons. I consistently shoot two to as much as five grades lower when I'm gasping for breath, and I have seen the same thing happen to much more experienced shooters than me.

And this is even more true with bows than with rifles, for with bows you have to expend energy on drawing back a powerful kinetic energy weapon as well.

For those of us who know, this spoils the effect of an otherwise very, very well crafted prose.

[treydog]

The conjurer’s taunts add a lot of flavor- esp. the one about the “Ebon Moon.”

I also like the fact that your conjurers actually coordinate their attacks.

She did not risk a glance back to see however.

Wisdom on the part of our stringy elf. As Satchel Paige said, “Don’t look back, ‘cause something might be gaining on you.”

Saved by her spirit guide once more! And I agree with hazmick about the way Teresa uses the forest as an ally.

And I also applaud her wisdom in deciding to come back another day- perhaps with additional magic resources of her own?

Nits:

A moment later the bolt of fire streaked passed…

I would expect “past” here, but that may be purely a preference issue.

He held a iron triangle..

“An iron triangle…”?

[Acadian]

So much to love here!!!!

The conjurors taunted her - this was so great to 'bring them to life'. Yet Teresa wisely kept her mouth shut. Buffy will eventually learn this wisdom that Teresa already clearly displays. Let the verbal arrogance of your foes reveal their number, location and disposition. Teresa knows to let her bow do her talking.

Grey-robes. Perhaps it is something wonderfully unique about the Bosmeri mind that sees things this way. I know another Bosmer that sees some of her foes as Black robes, Red robes etc just like Teresa does! I love it!

A heart-pounding fight, with Teresa making great choices. I love how adept she is becoming with her bow, especially in the masterful hands of your writing. Although I was not distracted at all, if you think she would be winded, she could certainly pop the stopper on the easiest potion of all to make - restore fatigue.

I agree with those wise readers above who hailed your use of the forest. Teresa is so very at home among her trees - it was wonderful to see her melt into the woods. Equally enjoyable to see the powerful conjurors and their summons hindered by the same environment.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Sep 16 2010, 06:38 PM

[Destri Melarg]

Despite her turning down Baurus’ offer, it appears that Teresa is acting as a sort of unofficial Blade after all. Hopefully this 'Ebon Moon' (great name BTW) will just turn out to be a group of four or five conjurers living in a ruin with delusions of grandeur.

A question:
Is it your intent to make the summoning of and encounters with daedra a rare occurrence within your version of Cyrodiil? I ask because during her reverie after her escape, Teresa believes that this 'Ebon Moon' is ‘plainly connected to the daedra’ because they all wear grey robes and they summoned daedra to pursue her. Those spells are readily available at the Mages Guild, and knowing them doesn’t make one allied to the daedra. Saying that she is ‘meat for the beast’ sounds like something more akin to Sithis than Oblivion.

And a nit:

The Deadra, while undoubtedly accomplished fighters, were plainly out of their element among the oaks and pines.

I believe the ‘e’ and the ‘a’ got reversed here.

[SubRosa]

hazmick: Thank you haz. One of the things I want to do with this chapter is to show how Teresa's forester abilities have evolved.


D.Foxy: Teresa was never shooting and moving at the same time, nor did she start breathing hard until after taking her last shot and running deeper into the woods. I did however, take Acadian's advice and have her guzzle a restore fatigue potion before that final shot.


treydog: Thank you trey. One of my focuses in the TF is to portray a world that really could exist and whose people act like real people, rather than a game whose npcs are controlled by a woefully inadequate AI. So of course the guard would raise the alarm, all the bad guys would come swarming, and they would use their most powerful weapon, their summonses, enmasse.

The other thing I wanted to illustrate in these last two segments (aside from Teresa's new-found ranger skillz), is that she is not an uber-powerful heroine living in a world where the enemy is always scaled down so that she can handle them. The TF is more like Morrowind in that regard. There are things out there which Teresa is totally incapable of dealing with, and her survival depends on her use of good sense to run away when faced with them (just as others have the good sense to run away when they cannot stand up to her!).


Acadian: I have always liked villains who taunt the protagonist. It gives them some more flavor. Teresa though was not so much using sense to keep her mouth shut however. As usual, she just did not know anything witty to say! Maybe in the future Pappy will teach her the fine art of verbal sparring.

You know, I never really think about using Restore Fatigue potions. I never had a use for them in the game. But in the TF they would have more utility. Plus it would also underscore her being an alchemist. So I put in her drinking one. My main reason for adding in her being winded was a bit of groundwork I am laying now (and will do so in a future chapter as well), that will prompt her to start a serious exercise program in Bravil.


Destri Melarg: I hemmed and hawed for days coming up with the Ebon Moon. At first I was going to give a nod to IRL magical groups by using The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. But after the Mythic Dawn, I did not want another group of daedra summoners with the word "dawn" in their name. So then I thought The Order of the Silver Twilight from the Cthulhu Mythos. But I really wanted something original, so I kept working until I found the EM.

I actually got the idea from Cardboard Box's Ra'jirra story. He is using a monster mod that among other things adds in a bunch of conjurers called The Guardians of Oblivion (at least I think that's the name). It sounds a lot cooler than just generic "conjurer", so I decided that I should give the bad guys at Belda an actual name, so they would have a teensy bit of depth.

One thing I wanted to touch on in this chapter was her view of Daedra and their worshipers, and the question of 'good' daedra vs. 'bad' daedra, which there is more about in later posts. Teresa's very negative attitude toward Daedra and their worshipers are a direct result of the events of the Oblivion Crisis. She saw one Emperor murdered by a Daedric cultist before her eyes, heard of a city destroyed by them and their Daedra, watched a huge battle of Daedra that were going to destroy Bruma, and then fought for her life against the same creatures in the IC, and learned that a second Emperor died to stop them. Under the circumstances, she cannot imagine such a thing as a 'good' Daedra. She has literally never seen one that was not trying to destroy the world and murder everyone in it. Not to mention she has grown up on stories of evil empires such as the Ayleids or James Cameron the Usurper using monsters like Daedra and Undead to conquer, enslave, and torture people.

It really does beg the question of why would someone in Cyrodiil want to summon a Daedra? The only ones in the vanilla game you can summon are the same ones so desperately trying to destroy the world and everyone in it. We hear of others like Winged Twilights, and see Aureals and Mazken in the SI, but you cannot walk into a magic shop or the guild and learn to summon them.

To use a real world analagy, it would be like going down to Gund Arena to boo at LeBron James and seeing someone in the crowd summon an Al-Qaeda suicide bomber. Imagine how people would react to seeing that? Cyrodiilians would have an even stronger reaction, as they have suffered far more at the hands of the Daedra than the U.S. has at terrorism.

In the game you have to summon them because aside from zombies and skeletons, they are the only game in town. But given a choice I am sure most Americans would sooner summon a U.S. Marine or Army Ranger. Let's face it, that would be extremely cool. Likewise if Cyrodiilians were given a choice, I think all but their versions of Tim McVeigh and the Unabomber would go for summoning Aedra rather than Daedra.

Since you got me thinking about it, I decided to do exactly the latter. I will put in Aedra that people can summon (honestly, it always disappointed me that you cannot do it in the game. None of my characters have ever wanted to summon a deadra. Imagine how cool it would be to play a priest of Arkay, going around smiting undead by summoning up a Warrior of Light). Deities having some form of spiritual servants and go-betweens is a very common thread in religions. So it is not really anything too radical of an idea. It is also rather interesting to think about what kind of servants each of the Nine might have.

Just thinking off the top of my head, I can picture Akatosh having smaller, dragon-like creatures you could summon (maybe like a six or ten foot dragon, or a serpent that 'swims' through the air like a Chinese dragon). Arkay would probably have some kind of glowing creature of light that naturally repels undead. Kynareth is among other things a goddess of storms and the winds, so maybe some kind of living whirlwind (like the Tasmanian Devil).

I am glad you mentioned it, because otherwise I would have never been prompted to do that!


Next: Having escaped from the conjurers in Belda, Teresa continues east to comfort a friend.

* * *

Chapter 16.3 - The Temple

Once the conjurers and their monsters were well and truly left behind, Teresa took stock of where she was. She found that her flight had taken her in the opposite direction that she had wanted to travel. So she traveled south and later east, and just as the first time she had encountered the ruin, she gave Belda a wide berth as she headed to Morcant's cottage.

Magnus had slipped under the western rim of the sky by the time she reached the cliff above the Witch's home, and the dark red bulk of Masser was slowly taking his place on the eastern horizon. Lake Trasimene spread out below her feet, its glassy surface a black mirror of the sky above. Near the shore, the forester could see the lights of a single cottage. Morcant, she thought, thankfully at home.

Secunda's white disc had risen by the time Teresa had made her way down the escarpment. Having donned her night eye goggles to see in the darkness beneath the trees, the forester now stood before the Witch's cottage.

Teresa bit her lip as she stared at the door. What was she going to say to Morcant? Would the Witch even want to see anyone now? How do you comfort someone who has lost their loved one? she wondered. What could you say to make it better.

Well, she had not come all this way to turn around and walk away, the wood elf thought. Taking a deep breath, she knocked gently upon the wooden door. The growl of a wolf came from inside, but otherwise there was no sound from within the cabin. Teresa waited, and knocked again, louder this time. Once more she heard Tsume's response. But heard nothing of Morcant.

She moved to one of the windows, and peered through the glass pane. The sudden brightness of the interior forced her to screw her eyes shut, and she pulled the goggles from her eyes with a low curse. Blinking the spots from her vision, she once again looked within the cottage.

She saw a figure sitting in the rocking chair by the fire. Facing away from the window, the forester could not tell who it was. Then a face covered in grey fur rose up on the other side of the glass, and a wide, pink tongue slathered across its panes. For a moment the wolf barked with excitement as he stared at Teresa from inches away. Then he vanished from the window, and a moment later the wood elf heard him scratching at the door.

"Morcant it's me, Teresa!" she shouted, rapping the window for added effect. "Let me in!"

With that the figure rose, and when she turned Teresa could clearly see that it was Morcant. The auburn-haired wood elf stared at the window for long moments, her face as blank and expressionless as a statue. Teresa waved, and she heard Tsume continuing to scratch at the door. Finally the Witch moved to the entrance.

"What are you doing here?" The door opened to reveal the older wood elf. Her hair was as dull and lifeless as the hollow look in her grey eyes. Teresa felt her heart lurch at the sight. But only for a moment, for the next thing she knew a furred missile struck her and pushed her down to the ground. The wolf's wet tongue seemed to lick every pale inch of Teresa's face, and she could not restrain a faint smile at his obvious joy.

"I missed you too Tsume," she breathed, once she found it safe to open her mouth. Now settled down, the scarred wolf trotted around Teresa's legs, turning to stare back up at Morcant. The forester rose as well, and turned her green eyes to meet the dull gaze of the other woman.

"I came to see how you were doing." As much her voice tried to remain a stone buried in her throat, Teresa forced it to rise from her lips. "I know what happened at Bruma…"

"Well, as you can see I am fine," the other woman's voice was as emotionless as her features. Then her hand rose to the door, and before Teresa could react she pushed it shut.

The wolf made a whining noise, and Teresa looked down to see him staring pensively at the door. "I know how you feel Tsume," the forester sighed, "I wish she would be happy again too. But I guess it's just not that simple."

Leaning down, she ran a hand through the fur above the wolf's shoulders. His gaze traveled back and forth between her and the door. "Come on," Teresa said, stepping toward the trees that surrounded the lake. "Let's find a nice spot to lay down and go to sleep. Maybe she'll feel better in the morning."

* * *

Teresa awoke to the sound of chirping birds. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she looked up to see the sun sitting atop the eastern rim of the valley. There was no sign of Tsume. She imagined that he must have wandered off while she slept.

Stepping out from the edge of the trees, she yawned and stretched. Before she knew it her feet had taken her to the edge of the lake, whose waters had turned bright gold with the light of the rising sun. It was too inviting to pass up. Stripping off her tunic, loincloth, and the Jewel of the Rumare, she slid her naked body into the cool waves. She was not sure how long she had been swimming when a voice from shore brought her head around.

"What are you doing out there?" It was Morcant. The wood elf wore a simple linen chemise and skirt, and held up one hand to shield her eyes from the early morning sun.

"What does it look like!" Teresa exclaimed. "Come on in, the water's nice!"

The older elf shook her head and walked back to the cottage. Oh well, Teresa thought, at least she came out and said something. That was progress after all. A minute later she saw the Witch re-emerge from her home with a small tray containing a teapot, cups, and a plate of what looked like rolls. Setting her cargo down upon a small, round table in front of the cottage, Morcant sat in one of the two chairs flanking it and looked out across the lake.

With that Teresa made her way back to shore. Stopping to slide the Jewel of the Rumare back upon her finger, she felt the water instantly fall from her body and puddle around her feet. Completely dry, she donned her clothing once more and met the older Bosmer beside the cottage.

The smell of cinnamon greeted her, and she saw that the Witch had baked sweet rolls, just as the day she had met her. Morcant did not say a word as Teresa sat across from her and poured herself a cup of the hot tea and took a sip. It was delicate, slightly sweet, and a little malty. Very different from any other tea she had drank, which had usually been bitter and strong. She held the cup under her nose to let the aroma waft through her nostrils for long moments, savoring the comforting scent.

"This is good," she commented, "what kind of tea is it?"

"Argonian White Tea," the Witch said, still looking across the lake. "The Argonians hate it. The flavor's too soft for them to taste. They only grow it to sell to other provinces. I got some from a traveling merchant last week."

"A merchant came all the way out here?" Teresa was a little surprised, and only took a cinnamon roll after she saw Morcant take a bite from another first.

"Well, it probably wasn't his original plan." Morcant finally turned back to look at Teresa. "He managed to get a bad case of rattles while he was in the villages down by Lake Nemi. He came up here to get a cure, since I'm a lot closer than Cheydinhal…"

"Well, here is to his bug," Teresa lifted her cup in a modest toast, "otherwise I would have never had the chance to try something so wonderful. I used to squat with an Argonian girl when I lived on the Waterfront. She used to always make nightshade tea. I took a sip the first time she did and got so sick. That was when I learned that Argonians are immune to poison, and wood elves are not!"

"You are lucky you were not killed!" the Witch exclaimed, and Teresa felt somewhat gratified to finally see some emotion from the other woman. "Nightshade is dangerous, even just the leaves."

"Well, Geen-Rana's no alchemist, so she did not know how to really bring the poison out and enhance it." Teresa shrugged. "Still, I lost my voice, and couldn't keep from doubling over all night. It got me interested in plants and alchemy though!"

"I suppose poisoning yourself is a strong incentive!" Teresa thought Morcant may have even smiled faintly as she spoke. "I have always loved plants. My mother used to say I didn't just have a green thumb, but a whole green hand."

"When was the last time you saw you her?" Teresa asked, "I remember you said before that she lives in Anvil."

"It's been years," the older woman replied, staring off into space again, "a long time."

"Maybe you should go back and see her?" Teresa felt herself biting her lip once more and forced herself to stop. She remembered how touchy the Witch could be about her family from her first visit, especially concerning her daughter. "I know how much I miss Simplicia when I'm away for a long time."

"Simplicia?" Morcant turned to look at her again.

"She's my mother," Teresa said. "Well, not exactly. She didn't give birth to me. I never knew my real mother and father. Simplicia's an Imperial who found me when I was a baby and took care of me ever since. I just wish she would let me take care of her now."

"Stubborn then?" Morcant nodded, turning her head again to stare out across the lake. "It runs in my family too.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 02:31 AM

[treydog]

This is one of those perfect SubRosa chapters, with lovely descriptions and emotions expressed and hidden.

"I came to see how you were doing." As much her voice tried to remain a stone buried in her throat, Teresa forced it to rise from her lips. "I know what happened at Bruma…"

Just a wonderful turn of phrase there.

Interesting to see that not all wood elves are hydrophilic- or does Morcant know about something that lives in the lake?

And we get a deft addition of some more of Teresa's history, including the origin of her interest in alchemy.

Last, but I have a feeling not least, there are some hints about family...

[hazmick]

Nightshade tea? Yum! It sounds awfully familiar...

It's great to see Morcant again, she's had a rough time and needs someone to cheer her up.

A lovely chapter which piqued my interest in m two favourite things: Tea and Argonains.

[Acadian]

Yes, another lovely chapter.

'Water makes her clothes fall off.'

Loads of nice rich detail. How can you not love a big dog?

On the summons. I think it would be neat if Teresa learned how to summon a wolf and a bear to help her. I use the in game Daedra/undead in BF just because I like to stick to the game (woohoo, a pet clannfear) when I can; but your TF is not so constrained. Just a thought.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Sep 18 2010, 10:48 PM

[Destri Melarg]

You have obviously taken a page from Hautee’s Book of Endearing Animals. From the licking of the window pane, to the tackling of Teresa and the bounding around her feet, Tsume simply shines in this chapter! His joy at seeing the forester again juxtaposed against Morcant’s broken heart really gave weight to the whole scene.

The conversation that the two women share over tea adds more layers to both of their characters. I sense a bit of foreshadowing at the mention of Morcant’s mother. I wonder who she could be. One can almost hear the turning of gears in Teresa’s mind. Why do I get the feeling that her feet will soon carry her to Anvil?

This post has been edited by Destri Melarg: Sep 18 2010, 11:15 PM

[haute ecole rider]

So we have another character whose origins lie in Anvil. I think it ranks second to Bravil as being the most populated town!

Like Acadian and Destri, I quite enjoyed Tsume's antics. He reminds me of a canine character I wrote once, a sniffer (drugs, explosives, mines, bodies, etc) named Gunnar. Like Tsume, he was quite sensitive to the moods of the folks closest to him.

The wolf licking the window put me in mind of the Pug Computer Screen Cleaner!

It was interesting to see Morcant so devastated by the death of her loved one.

[D.Foxy]

After the thunder of battle, a soft coda of fellowship, reminiscing, a little humour, and, of course, the best antidote for the gigantic ache of loss...tea and sympathy...

Let all the world know that Sub Rosa is our queen of intricate and beautiful emotional construction.

[SubRosa]

treydog: That last segment was extremely difficult for me to write. I grappled with the question of how best to show Morcant's grief for a long time, and in the end I decided that the more of it I implied, the more powerful it would appear (I hope!).


hazmick: Thank you hazmick. After reading nightshade tea in our favorite Marsh Ranger's tales, I just had to use it. I had thought I mentioned my intent on your topic. Looking back I see I had not. Sorry about that.


Acadian: Teresa thinks it would be a great idea if she could summon a wolf or bear as well. Keep your eyes peeled for more on that later in this chapter.


Destri Melarg: High praise indeed if you are comparing me to h.e.r.'s writing of animals! Tsume really is a fun character to write. He is one of those who takes the keyboard and just runs away with it.

I am glad you can hear the gears clanking in Teresa's mind at the mention of Morcant's mother, because they most certainly are in high gear! We will see more on that subject later in this chapter.


haute ecole rider: I did mention in The Witch of Lake Trasimene that Morcant was born in Anvil. But that was months ago, so I am not surprised it slipped off the radar. So like Teresa, she was originally a city girl who found the forest later in life. I am not sure how much of that might be revealed. Morcant plays her cards very close to the chest...


D.Foxy: Thank you. After the action segments of late, it was nice to write a pure girly chapter!


Next: Teresa has gotten her foot into the door of Morcant's cottage, and does her best to cheer up the older Bosmer as she discovers more about her own spiritual powers.

* * *

Chapter 16.4 - The Temple

They spent the rest of the morning talking that way, about little things. Teresa was just glad to get her to speak at all. Anything was an improvement over the other night, she thought. After finishing their breakfast by the lake, they moved to the garden behind the cottage, where Teresa helped the Witch pull at weeds, and water the vegetables and herbs. By the time Magnus rode at his peak overhead Teresa was sweltering from working in the heat.

She was thankful to beat a hasty retreat into the shade of the cottage with the older woman. There they enjoyed a lunch of sliced cucumbers slathered in a tangy dressing of olive oil, vinegar, and salt. Then they munched on a piece of white cheese, washing it all down with milk taken from her ice box: a simple wooden chest whose bottom was lined with glowing blue cold stones.

"Do you know anything about the conjurers over in Belda?" Teresa asked the other woman. "They called themselves the Ebon Moon, and had black crescents on their robes."

"That bunch has moved into Belda?" Morcant looked up from her plate. "They don't come any nastier. You didn't have a run-in with them did you?"

"Well I sort of stopped by Belda on the way here yesterday…" Teresa poked at her cucumbers with her fork. "They weren't too friendly."

"You just cannot keep your nose out of those places can you?" The Witch shook her head. "You were better off drinking nightshade. Those conjurers won't hesitate to kill anyone if they have the chance. They sacrifice their victims to the Daedra."

"So they're Daedra worshippers, like the Mythic Dawn then?" Teresa looked back up at Morcant, feeling her heart pick up its pace just from thinking about that band of villains.

"No," the Witch replied, "not exactly. They don't worship the Daedra, they simply use them. The only thing the Ebon Moon worships is power itself, and they will gladly trade other people's blood to get more of it. Rumor has it they have groups all over Cyrodiil, any place they think they might find something to get an edge."

"Isn't that what all Daedra worshippers are like?" Teresa frowned, remembering the Oblivion Crisis.

"Not all Daedra worshippers are like that, nor Daedra." The Witch shook her head. "To be certain some - like Mehrunes Dagon - are only interested in death and destruction. Others like Azura are hardly evil. As goddess of dawn and dusk, she holds sway over moments of transition. All magicians would do well to look to her for guidance, for she knows what it means to walk between worlds better than any other. In fact, she is invoked in many initiatory rites for just that reason."

Teresa said nothing, and concentrated on her lunch instead. After what the Mythic Dawn had done, it was hard for her to imagine there being such a thing as a 'good' Daedra. Yet the Witch did have a point. She had never heard of Azura destroying a city, let alone Nocturnal. She had used the latter's name in vain for much of her life. Every thief or anyone involved with thieves did, although she had no idea why. Except that as goddess of darkness, she provided the cloak for them to do their illegal business.

So how could one tell a good Daedra worshipper from a bad one? Teresa could only shrug at her own question. Life never had any easy answers.

Afterward, Teresa thanked the Witch for lunch. She wanted to thank her for so much more, especially the scroll that had saved her life, and the lives of the others in Jensine's shop. Yet she bit her tongue, remembering the reaction she had gotten the previous night. It was probably better not to bring up the Oblivion Crisis, she reasoned, not yet at least. But still, she could not completely dance around the subject.

"You said that you talked to all the spirits," she began carefully. "Do they ever show you things, like in dreams, only when you are awake?"

"Yes, of course." The Witch took a seat in her rocking chair, and motioned for Teresa to sit beside her in front of the hearth. "Visions are part of a strong relationship with your spirit guides. When did you have one?"

Teresa bit her lip. How could she put it delicately, without mentioning Bruma? "It was about three weeks ago. It just happened all of a sudden. One moment I was petting a horse, the next I was a raven, flying through the sky."

"It must have been something very important to you," the Witch said, "for Raven to have heard your call and come to you like that."

"Heard my call?" Teresa said, feeling her eyebrows beetle in confusion. "It just came over me. I wasn't even thinking about anything in particular."

"Your Middle Self - your waking mind - may not have been thinking about it," the Witch explained. "But your Lower Self - your dreaming mind - definitely was. That is what calls out to the spirits. It is not in logic and reason that our divinity lives, but in our feelings and intuition. That is why they come to us in dreams and visions."

Teresa nodded. She thought she understood what the woman meant. Ever since Raven had entered her life, ever since she had noticed him at least, she had been learning more and more to trust her intuition. "So if I want to have a vision, how can I do it?"

"Well by going to your Astral Temple of course," the Witch answered plainly.

"My what?" Teresa blinked. "I don't have a temple. Do I look like I'm rich? All I have is what I can carry with me."

"No silly." The Witch almost smiled for real then, and Teresa was thankful for that. If nothing else, asking Morcant about magic and spirits seemed to engage her, keep her mind off of Attius. The Witch reached out and laid her hand upon Teresa's chest before continuing. "Your Astral Temple is in here. It's something that you create yourself. A safe place between this world and the next."

"Oh," Teresa looked down at her lap. She was certain that the older elf must think of her as an ignorant bumpkin. But when she looked back up into her eyes she saw no trace of scorn. Just patience, wisdom, and perhaps a bit of wry amusement. "So how do I make it?"

"Well, perhaps you already have. Let's find out, shall we?" The Witch stood up now, and walked to one of the windows. Reaching through the open glass of the frame, she pulled back the shutters from either side and fastened them shut. Moving to the other windows in turn, she did the same, until the single-room of the cottage was plunged into shadow. Teresa was tempted to dig her goggles from her pack. But she could still see in the dim light that slanted through the cracks in the shutters and around the door, albeit barely.

"Now make yourself comfortable." Morcant lifted a small hand drum from where it had hung on one wall. She began to gently tap out a slow, soft beat as she walked to Teresa. "Close your eyes, and breathe deep. In and out, just breathe."

Teresa did as she asked, and felt her heart slowing to match the pace of the drumbeat. Her muscles relaxed, and she had to stifle a yawn.

"Now imagine that you are a tree," Morcant went on. "Your feet are roots sinking deep within the ground, your arms are great branches sweeping out into the air, and your hair a forest of leaves. Feel Nirn beneath you, holding you tight. Feel Aetherius above you, breathing down magic and light upon you."

"Now reach down into your roots, and imagine that you are pulling water up from the moist soil. Feel it course up through your body, cleansing you, invigorating you. Now feel it rise from your head, pouring out of the leaves of your hair, and falling back to Nirn. Just feel that life-giving water coursing through you in a never-ending circle. This is the Tree of Life."

Teresa did as the Witch suggested, imaging the cool liquid flowing through her body. She could feel it, washing away her tension and uncertainties, and leaving her feeling confident and serene. It was like Nirn itself was flowing through her, becoming a part of her. Time lost all meaning as she basked in the sensation, and it was not until the beat of the drum began to quicken in her ears that Teresa remembered that she was not alone.

"Now, imagine that you are walking through a forest," Morcant's voice floated within the darkness behind Teresa's eyes. As the Witch prompted, she saw herself surrounded by trees. There were tall and straight pines, oaks with boughs separating and spreading out wide, beeches with their smooth, silvery bark, maples with their samaras hanging like wings, and many, many more. She saw squirrels darting up and down their trunks, while white-tailed deer leaped through the underbrush and birds sang from the branches.

"Now look ahead. You see a clearing, and in it a single, great tree. It is the Axis Mundi, or World Tree."

Teresa did see it. Its bark was a dark brown in color, deeply cut by grooves, and its trunk rose high into the sky. So high that she could not see the top of its bough. It seemed to stretch up forever. A forest of branches radiated from its length, crowned by brilliant green leaves and darker acorns.

Closer to Nirn, she could see that its gigantic roots coiled and stretched across the ground like a nest of serpents. In the shadows that crouched around the base of the roots, she found one pool of darkness that was larger than the others. Drawing closer, she discovered that it was actually a cave, leading into impenetrable blackness.

"Step within, and you will find your temple." Morcant's voice seemed to come from miles away.

Teresa did not hesitate to do so. She found that she was in the same grotto that she had seen since the first of her magical dreams. As before, its walls were of rough stone, and played host to numerous shadows and darker tunnels leading off into the bowels of Nirn. The ceiling of the cavern was open to the sky however, and through it shafts of golden sunlight slanted down to illuminate the center of the chamber. There she found a great pool rimmed in flowers. Its crystal-clear waters held a small forest of plants waving gently beneath the surface. Birds chirped and flew through the room, golden fish swam beneath the waves of the pool, and all was calm and peaceful.

Teresa felt another presence enter the room, and the shadow of great wings slid across her. She smiled broadly, holding out her arms to either side. Looking down, she saw black feathers sprout from her body. A moment later she leapt into the air on mighty wings, and greeted Raven with a guttural cry from her long, slender beak.

This was indeed, her temple.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 02:32 AM

[haute ecole rider]

Well done. It is good to return to that grotto that figured so much in early chapters.

I did remember that Morcant was born in Anvil - I was thinking of her mother.

So Teresa has been carrying her Temple with her all along. That's comforting!

[D.Foxy]

So, Teresa has found Yggdrasil? I hope she will not need to hang upside down from it for nine nights running...

[Acadian]

Others like Azura are hardly evil. As goddess of dawn and dusk, she holds sway over moments of transition. All magicians would do well to look to her for guidance, for she knows what it means to walk between worlds better than any other.

Oooh! I like Morcant!

Afterward, Teresa thanked the Witch for lunch. She wanted to thank her for so much more, especially the scroll that had saved her life, and the lives of the others in Jensine's shop. Yet she bit her tongue, remembering the reaction she had gotten the previous night. It was probably better not to bring up the Oblivion Crisis, she reasoned, not yet at least. But still, she could not completely dance around the subject.

This is a beautiful example of Teresa's thought processes that inevetibly lead to actions that seem to flow naturally.

It was great fun listening to Morcant talk about her craft. When the author is a subject matter expert, it helps really bring things to life.

Since you introduced Raven, I have been so pleased that Teresa has someone to travel with her. Every wood elf needs that. And I noted that it caused Teresa to give us a broad smile (not a faint one).

Another beautiful episode!

[hazmick]

it's OK, Teresa can drink nightshade tea whenever she wants...but I'd rather she didn't (For safety reasons, not copyright issues).
A brilliant chapter! Morcant has cheered up a bit and Teresa has found her inner temple!! Woohoo!

More soon please!

[treydog]

You have always shown yourself to be wise in what to include and what to leave out. Morcant’s silence speaks far more poignantly of loss than any amount of weeping.

The entire discussion of the different aspects of Daedra Princes and their worshipers was a pleasant read.
And Morcant shows her own wisdom by mentioning Azura prominently.

Life never had any easy answers.

No, and by the time you get them, it’s too late.

So Teresa has been constructing her Temple all along, even though she did not realize it! But there is much about herself she is still learning... Just because something is unknown or unnamed does not mean it does not exist. The naming gives control and understanding- which are components of Teresa's growth.