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

[haute ecole rider]

What a wonderful chapter - full of surprises!

Simplicia took her time following, and just caught sight of him turning off Market Way and back onto Commerce Street as she stepped outside the inn.

I see that you have continued using street names to add atmosphere to the situation.

And Simplicia's flashback added a surprising layer to what would have otherwise been a straightforward 'follow-that-man' job. It also emphasized Simplicia's courage in pursuing what is typically considered a young person's pastime - snooping.

Good job here!

[Destri Melarg]

Oh, and I have added Miss Jane Marple to my netflix queue thanks to your mention.

Make sure you avoid The Mirror Crack’d starring Angela Lansbury as Miss Marple. The movie is just a poor example of the character. Margaret Rutherford is the definitive Miss Marple in the same way that Basil Rathbone is the definitive Sherlock Holmes. Check her out in Murder She Said (not Wrote), Murder Most Foul, Murder Ahoy, and Murder at the Gallop. All of these are available through Netflix, I believe.

I think you may have stumbled onto the fertile ground of yet another fanfic! The idea of the former beggar, Simplicia the Slow, as an amateur detective in Cyrodiil is just delicious! I loved how she fended off the dirty looks of the innkeeper while nursing a glass of milk. Perfect!

Facing her fear in that dark alley while looking at the knife held by Dreth (of all mer) gave a much needed intensity to what is essentially (like hautee said) a follow-that-mer chapter. Her fragility and vulnerability make Simplicia a wonderfully effective protagonist.

MORE!

[Acadian]

Unexpected surprise is right! I figured we were in for a fun romp through a comfortable quest. The identity of Thoronir's contact and Simplicia's painful flashback just changed that! Do I recall that this Dreth fellow was in the prison cell in the Imperial Prison? The same Dreth that crazily pursued little Teresa as a 'witch'? Oooh, this is rather tightly woven into TF isn't it? This is really good!



'Like most shopkeepers, Thoronir locked up his doors at six bells.'
It may just be me, but I can't help chuckling. This is what telling time by bells means to me: http://www.navy.mil/navydata/questions/bells.html
I'm sure it comes from too many years on aircraft carriers and being deeply steeped in ancient nautical traditions.

[mALX]

GAAAAH! I thought Vols killed the man that did that to Simplicia? ARGH, she will be hurt! Vols needs to save her again, I hope he does and FAST !!!!

Very surprising twist, nerve-wracking due to concern over Simplicia - but Awesome break from what we know of the linear questline!

Awesome Write, Sage Rosa !!!

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: I like those street names! Wait until we get to Bravil, I came up with a ton of new street names there.


Destri Melarg: I suppose I could call the new Simplicia Fic Murder, She Begged! Alas, I am not a mystery writer. It does sound neat though!

I did try one of the Miss Marple's from 1987 - A Caribbean Mystery - since it was available for instant viewing. It did not do anything for me. Miss Marple sat out the first half of the story, which turned me off. I realize they were spending time building all the characters so there was plenty of suspect fodder, but a protagonist ought to drive the story, not be a bystander to most of it. So I added in a couple of Margaret Rutherfords to my queue, but unfortunately I have to wait on the mail for those.


Acadian: As you have probably noticed, I like to weave characters tightly together in the TF. I wrote that little scene of Dreth being released from prison with this chapter in mind. What Teresa started with him, Simplicia will finish. With a little help from some other members of Teresa's extended family in the IC...

So that is how those navy bells work. I always wondered how they went, since I noticed that they do not correspond to church bells ringing the hour.


mALX: Vols did kill the man who maimed Smplicia. Dreth just happens to be another insane male Dunmer with a fetish for knives.


Next: Simplicia's snooping has uncovered the source of Thoronir's cheap goods. Next we find Methredhel whiling away the same evening with a friend at The Bloated Float.


Chapter 25.3 – Unfriendly Competition


"And then he says to me, 'well a hole's a hole after all!', as if I'm not going to care!"

"All men are like that Dynari," Methredhel shook her head and took another sip of ale from her mug. The tavern around her was filled with a cacophony of shouts, singing, and jeers, and above all the off-tune piano-playing of the Altmer proprietor. "They want to see how much they can get away with. You've got to put your foot down right at the start."

"Bless Dibella you are right Meth," the other woman nodded. "Men! Can't live with 'em, can't just kill them!"

"And can't teach them to play a musical instrument," the wood elf chuckled as she momentarily glanced over at the Altmer torturing the keys of the piano. Then she looked back to the Imperial sitting beside her. With dark brown hair done up in the same elf braids that she wore herself, Dynari could almost be her twin. If not for her brown eyes and round ears of course.

Screenshot

Screenshot

For a moment she found herself wondering if Teresa had the same problems with women that she and Dynari had with men? Maybe Teresa was the lucky one, liking women instead. Then again, maybe not, Methredhel considered. For every woman like herself or Dynari, there were probably a hundred Adanrels…

That is when a familiar sight came to the thief's eye. The bushy red tail of a fox, flashing its way through the crowd. Her heart leaped as she followed the path of her spirit guide. It still surprised her that no one else could see her. Yet if Teresa had taught her anything, it was to always pay attention when Fox had something to show her.

Fox vanished as the front door of the common room opened. Stepping within a moment later was a frail-looking Imperial woman. She was old, with a grey mop of hair and roadmap of lines for a face. She wore a simple - yet clean and neat - linen dress and plain pigskin shoes. Her feet slowly pushed her into the common room of the inn, as if she had to think about every step before taking it.

"Simplicia?" the wood elf muttered, not believing her eyes.

"Who?" Dynari asked, the young Imperial following Methredhel's stare.

"She's the mother of my friend Teresa. You know, the one I grew up with." Methredhel rose, and in that instant Simplicia's eyes locked upon her own. "Give me a moment, she wouldn't have come all the way down here without a good reason."

Did something happen to Teresa? the wood elf wondered with a growing sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Please gods, don't let it be that. Not after all they had been through together, especially lately. Methredhel wove her way through the patrons of The Bloated Float to where Simplicia stood. No, if something had happened to Teresa she would not look so composed, the wood elf thought with relief. The former beggar would be a complete basket case. So Teresa must be okay. Then what could it be?

"Simplicia," she said plainly, "I'm surprised to see you here."

"Teresa said all you thieves like to come here." The beggar turned shop-clerk spat out the words like sour milk. "So naturally it was the first place I looked."

"It's so nice to see you again too." Methredhel did not bother to conceal the sarcasm in her voice.

"I'm not here to exchange pleasantries," the old woman said. "I'm here to hire you."

Methredhel could not keep her eyebrow from leaping in surprise. "You want to hire me? Now this I have to hear." The young Bosmer motioned Simplicia to follow her back to her table. The old Imperial took her time moving across the common room, and Methredhel was once again sipping from her mug of ale by the time she sat across from her and Dynari.

"So who's she? Another one of you gangsters?" Simplicia stared at Dynari with barely concealed distaste. Methredhel could see the anger flash in the young Imperial's eyes, and put out a hand to stop the other woman's inevitable reply.

"Yes, she's the Grey Fox," the Bosmer replied. "We were just about to steal the High Chancellor's drawers from the Imperial Palace before you came in."

"Hrrmph," the old woman grumbled as smoothed her skirt down over her legs. "Then you would know if Thoronir from The Copious Coinpurse is one of your fences."

"That pudgy little buffon?" Now Dynari did speak. "Not hardly. He's too stupid to work for the Guild."

"Then what about a Dunmer thug named Dreth?" Simplicia leaned across the table now. "He likes to use a knife, and lives in the Arena District."

"Doesn't sound like anyone I know," Methredhel shrugged. She glanced over at Dynari, who shook her head, then turned back to Simplicia. "Why, what are they to you?"

"Thoronir's trying to put Jensine and everyone else out of business with his prices." The old woman stopped to shoo away a skimpily-clad Redguard waitress who tried to take her order. Then she turned back to Methredhel. "His goods must be stolen. Since he's not in the Thieves Guild, I want you to get the proof."

"Now why should I do that?" Methredhel leaned back in her chair, savoring the moment. Simplicia asking her for help, now that was something she had never imagined happening. She imagined that the old Imperial would sooner swallow a straight razor.

"Don't give me that, I know there's no honor among thieves. He's your competition too." Simplicia declared. Still, she produced a purse that fairly bulged with the outline of coins and dropped it on the table with a clinking of metal. "Besides, I'll pay you."

Methredhel picked up the simple leather bag and turned it one way and another in her hands. By its weight, she imagined it must be every coin the old woman had earned since she had given up begging and turned to honest work. This had to be really important, Methredhel thought, for the Imperial to offer so much. And she had to the last person on Nirn that Simplicia would ever ask for help.

"So exactly what is it you want?" Methredhel asked, carefully setting the purse back down on the table between them.

"This Dreth is dropping off a shipment of his loot to Thoronir tomorrow night," Simplicia said. "I want you to break into his apartment before then and get me the proof its stolen. He might have the goods already, or plans for where he's going to steal it from. You just get me that."

"Okay, I'll do it," Methredhel said, sliding the purse back to Simplicia. "But not for the money. I want something else."

"What?" the old woman's eyes narrowed. Gods, Methredhel thought, why did she always have to do that?

"You have to start being nice to me," the thief insisted, "and no more telling Teresa to that I'm a bad influence on her."

"You are a bad influence on her!" Simplicia proclaimed as she rose to her feet and leveled an accusatory finger at the young Bosmer. "You're the reason she's got so wild! She never would have moved down to the Waterfront when she was fifteen if it wasn't for you, and she wouldn't be running around trying to get herself killed now if you hadn't put it in her head somehow!"

"Me!" now Methredhel could not keep from raising her own voice in return, or leaping to her feet as well. "I'm the one who's always looked out for her! I taught her to defend herself with a bow. You keep treating her like she's a baby. She's not, she's a grown woman!"

"Looked out for her? You're the reason she had her teeth knocked out!" the old Imperial practically shouted. "Seeing you stealing food is what put it in her head to try. Teresa was always a good girl. She would never think of stealing before she met you."

The words fell from Methredhel's mouth. Teresa had never said that she was stealing when the legionary knocked out her tooth. Was Simplicia lying? Or did Teresa say nothing to keep her from feeling guilty? Would Teresa lie to protect her feelings?

Of course she would, Methredhel thought as she plopped down heavily onto her chair. Now she noticed that the music had stopped playing, and that everyone around her was staring. Part of her wanted to use her Moonshadow power to vanish. But she knew that would not help.

"I am not responsible for everything Teresa does that you do not like," the young thief finally said, now in a calm, quiet tone. Right, and it was not like Teresa ever looked up to her when they were kids either, or tried to be like her. "If I ever hurt her, I'm sorry for it. But I'm not sorry if I helped her learn to stand on her own two feet. She can't live behind your skirts forever. She has to do what's right for her, whatever that is. I can accept that, why can't you?"

"Because she's my baby," Simplicia said softly, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Methredhel sighed. This was worse than her yelling and pointing her finger. Reaching out to pick up the bag of coins, she rose to her feet once more and pressed it into the old woman's hands.

"Where can I find this Dreth?"

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Dec 6 2010, 12:36 AM

[haute ecole rider]

Another wonderful chapter with some familiar characters.

Meth is not so self-absorbed as she likes to pretend she is. And I had briefly forgotten about her spirit guide, so when first read of Fox's bushy tail, I thought of - well, you know. Then it was facepalm time - oh yeah, that fox! And it was nice meeting Dynari for the first time in the TF. I know the two women room together in the game. So they both have men problems? Well that explains the two of them drinking ale in the Bloated Float.

The interaction between Simlicia and Meth is wonderful. I remember my mother not approving of certain girls I once hung out with - she wouldn't let me go to their houses to play. But Mom, those girls are sooo cool! Funny, but those girls were the ones that started smoking in the girls restroom at school just a few years later, then dropped out of high school because they had turned into potheads. So maybe Mom did know best?

[hazmick]

I've been gone for what? four months? And I come back to find Teresa fighting ghosts and hooking up with Altmer and Imperials! Then I read on to discover that Simplicia has turned detective! The world has gone mad (In a good way of course)

I spent this morning reading Acadian and Buffy's adventures and this afternoon (and evening) reading Teresa's adventures. There is only so much Bosmer a man can take.

Teresa continues to surprise me with her ongoing adventures in Cyrodiil (and her adventures underneath the sheets ) and she keeps getting stronger and has learned a lot in these past few months but I beg you, for the love of Nerussa, to head my words (Even if Acadian won't): BUY YOU'RE BOSMER A BLADE. That is all.

[mALX]

And then he says to me, 'well a hole's a hole after all!'

SPEW!!! ROFL !!!! I'll have to come back and read this when I stop choking to death laughing !!!! You gave us no warning on that one minxy SubRosa !!!! ROFL !!!!

[Acadian]

Lovely, SubRosa!

I smiled at seeing Methredhel's spirit guide again, as well as the wonderful atmosphere you imparted to the Bloated Float.

Simplicia was like a mama grizzly in her single-minded protectiveness of Teresa.

Methredhel was so wonderfully, well . . . Methredhel.

Or did Teresa say nothing to keep her from feeling guilty? Would Teresa lie to protect her feelings?

Here I was about to scream exactly what Methredhel thought in the very next paragraph:

Of course she would,

Despite the disturbance they no doubt caused, even at the rowdy Bloated Float, you managed to maneuver both women away from a cat fight and, even better, made both of them just that much more endearing to us. Well done!

And wrapped within all this wonderfully rich interaction, you also managed to move the mystery of Simplicia's investigation along. Smart of Simplicia to higher the young 'uns to do the thievin'.

[D.Foxy]

If the hole of a ho is tilled with a hoe
and it tickles her till she goes "ho, ho, ho",
O, wouldn't that be quite a delightful show
- but I sense a certain 'schoolmarm' frowning "NO NO NO"...

*sticks tongue out at Rosy Minx*

[mALX]

Hugely powerful chapter - HUGE!!! Whew!!! Sage Rosa, you have a gift for depth in your writing that is so envied !!!! I am glad you started it off with that funny line - because it went from light to knocking the reader out with the ending scenes!! AWESOME WRITE !!!! This chapter has to be up in my top two favorites !!! Gobble...gobble...

[Destri Melarg]

I did try one of the Miss Marple's from 1987 - A Caribbean Mystery - since it was available for instant viewing. It did not do anything for me. Miss Marple sat out the first half of the story, which turned me off. I realize they were spending time building all the characters so there was plenty of suspect fodder, but a protagonist ought to drive the story, not be a bystander to most of it.

Yeah, Christie’s characters are prone to a certain voyeurism. Even Poirot does a lot of watching as events develop around him, before swooping down at the eleventh hour to reveal the solution to the mystery. Maybe it is a British thing. As Americans, I think we demand a more proactive stance from our amateur sleuths. I think it ties into our national ethos of ‘let’s fire as many bullets as possible in the hope that one or two hit the target.’

Now for this latest chapter:

“Because she’s my baby,”

This statement speaks to far more than just four words said with slumped shoulders. One can read into it Simplicia’s growing realization that her little wood elf really is her own person now, with a life and with friends that Simplicia had no hand in shaping. The pride that Simplicia must feel when she thinks of the woman that Teresa has become is tempered by the realization that Methredhel had a large hand in forming that woman. It is little wonder that Simplicia views Meth with such malice. Through her friendship with Teresa, she has made herself a rival.

It will be interesting to see Methredhel's reaction when she learns who 'this Dreth' is.

I just love what you are doing with these characters!

[Petra Arkanian]

Wow. Good work, although thats not saying much, coming from a newbie like me =D

[Olen]

Well I've caught up. This piece just keeps getting better, the characters (and there's quite a cast now) are so strong and their interactions believable, they also fit well together with edges rubbing which just adds realism. It's an odd piece in many ways and different from other's here where there is a strong plotline to save the world etc., in ToTFS it's very much at th character driven end of things wherethe plot is just them living their lives but it's becoming increasingly compelling, indeed since the background plot of the Oblivion Crisis ended and the aftermath began it has become more so with each chatper offering more world building (much of which I full intend to steal borrow when I get back to writing) and interactions.

As far as individual parts go I kept a few notes when the mood took me:

16.4 - Particularly good chapter, recognised the meditation (give or take), very nicly done in bringing reality into the story making it stronger and quite insightful.

16/17 - using land spirits to give history was a nice device, it fitted in very well.

17.4 - A good point to show she's not invincable, though she may have worked out how to survive what she's used to there's still pleanty out there that she's not ready for. Again she became overconfident and it led to her getting her fingers burnt.

18.2 - Vols shows the cost of the crisis well, the juxtaposition of he city being mended and his scars sort of shows how the crisis is past but only superficially and that it's still very much casting it's shadow.

20.1 - A good insight into how the vast change in Teresa has an impact on those around her. She's a different person so it follows that she won't get on with the same people, though she managed to bring it home hard for herself. Realistic changes throughout the world of this piece make it come to life.

21.2 - Worldbuliding, the bank was a nice touch, especially putting it in a temple...

22 - I enjoyed the Roman referances, though the Roman grass crown was for saving a legion and the Civic Crown for saving citazens.

22.2 - "He also said that you were the meanest, toughest piece of work he had ever met. Coming from him that is quite a compliment." - I liked that line.

22&25 - these chapters from other povs work very well, their limited scope avoid the action shifting so far from Teresa but they flesh out the supporting characters and world nicely. This piece is very rich in that sort of thing with a lot going on in its world.

25.3 - An interesting insight into the relationship between Methy and Simplicia and nicely done. Also I feel Teresa might have become a 'bad' (by Simplicia's definition at least) influence on the woman, hiring a thief... she certainly wouldn't have dome that a few chapters back. I'd wondered how you'd handle this quest.

SGM

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: Perhaps Dynari and Methie have man problems because they are hanging out in the Bloated Float? Somehow I think they would the same problems if they were finding their men at the Tiber Septim though. But their problems would be better dressed...

When I was in high school my mother used to say that my best friend was a bad influence on me. My friend's mother said the same about me! We used to joke that we were two bad influences waiting to happen...


hazmick: Teresa should buy a babe? Well if she finds one for sale she just might! For now she is happy to rent Nerussa from time to time...


Acadian: I am glad you could tell what Methredhel was going to think next concerning Teresa. It means I have been showing enough of both characters that their true natures are evident.

I actually almost forgot about Fox. My first few drafts had no mention of Methie's spirit guide. It was only in the later versions that I fixed that oversight and put her in.

Finally, the argument between Simplicia and Methredhel was something I loved writing. The way it ends was meant to reveal a lot about the characters of both. We have seen how Adanrel would have reacted. Here we see that Methie is made of quite different stuff.


D.Foxy: Funny you should mention hos, considering what happens next...


mALX: I am glad that line worked. It seems to be one of the things straight girls complain about guys wanting to do most, and straight guys complain about girls not doing the most. So I never really thought about changing it.


Destri Melarg: Murder, She Said came yesterday, and I loved it. It had exactly what A Caribbean Mystery was lacking. Miss Marple drives the entire movie, right from the start when she proclaims a murder has taken place, then goes on to snoop after the police tell her she is a senile old bat who should mind her own business. Needless to say I put the rest of the Maggie Ruthefords in my queue. You were spot on, she really makes the character come alive.

As ever, you have zeroed in on my favorite line from this entire chapter. It says so much about Simplicia and her motivations. Likewise, as you also noted, the reason for her malice/jealousy toward Methredhel, who is such a major rival for Teresa's love and attention.


Petra Arkanian: Thank you Petra. I am looking forward to catching up with the rest of your concerned protagonist later today.


Olen Returns!: I am glad the t.v. show format is working. You have highlighted exactly what I hope to achieve with the TF: A character-driven piece focused on making the people within in it and the world they live in come alive. Plot has always been second place in this piece.

That basic meditation from 16.4 is something I learned from Chris Penczak at a local festival. It has a very strong shamanic influence (which is no surprise if you are familiar with him), so I felt it would work very well for the TF and Teresa.

I know my grass crown is not the same as that irl. The real one was made of grass for starters! I liked the name best of all the Roman awards, so that is why I used it.


Next: Out last segment saw Simplicia bring Methredhel into her investigation. Next we see what the Bosmer thief turns up.


Chapter 25.4 – Unfriendly Competition

"I can't believe I let you talk me into doing this," Dynari said, adjusting the plunging neckline of the cropped top that she wore.

"Talk you into doing this?" Methredhel laughed. "Pretending to be prostitutes was your idea."

The Bosmer thief turned from the other woman and back to the mirror in front of the two of them. First she carefully slid rouge of red ochre and alkanet across her lips until they were a deep shade of burgundy. Then she began applying kohl around her eyes, staining them a dark black.

"Lay it on thick," the young Imperial said from beside her. "This is a daylight job. We have to look our parts."

"And if we are lucky, we might get some extra work on the side." Methredhel winked at the other woman, who giggled in response.

"Only if he's a patrician," she laughed. "Just imagine the opportunities from being a nobleman's mistress."

"Yeah, I could steal his keys while you keep him busy, and rob him blind before he gets home," Methredhel joked. Rising to her feet, she likewise adjusted the red crop top she wore, and smoothed down the short, loose skirt that hung beneath her bare stomach. "I heard these are all the rage in Hammerfell," she said, turning one way and another to see how much of her figure the skimpy outfit exposed. Or perhaps how little it did not leave bare.

"Redguard women get to have all the fun," Dynari pouted, staring at her own lithe figure in the same mirror.

"Well, if you call living in over a hundred degree heat fun…" Methredhel commented, sliding her set of lock picks down into the valley between her small breasts. She frowned when she discovered there was not nearly enough covered territory down there to hide the brown leather packet that contained the tools. Maybe these crop tops were not such a good idea after all, she thought.

"Here, put it in your belt pouch," Dynari said as her fingers deftly slipped between her breasts and plucked out the lock picks. For a moment she wondered if Dynari was like Teresa, attracted to other women. Then she shrugged, taking the small packet and tucking it into the coin pouch at her waist. If Dynari was, then at least someone might think she was attractive.

A few minutes later they were out the door of the second floor apartment they shared and making their way down the stairs. Both took their time on the steps, given the high, spool heels of the court shoes they wore. I really have to practice walking in these more, Methredhel thought to herself. All the men seemed to love them, or at least the women in them.

Then they were clopping their way along the hard pavestones of the street outside. Passing a row of tenement insulas like the one they lived in, the two women made their way to Sword Avenue with more than a few hoots and catcalls from the men they passed on the way. Dynari laughed and hooted back, prompting Methredhel to smile.

"Maybe you're in the wrong guild," the Bosmer winked. "You seem to have a talent for this sort of thing!"

"Oh just relax and have a little fun!" the young Imperial exclaimed. With that she slid an arm around the bare waist of the wood elf. "It's good to cut loose. Believe me, as a good, proper Imperial girl, I never got to dress like this before! Let alone act like this!"

The crowds along the thoroughfare became heavy as the great marble bowl of the Arena loomed before the two women. Turning down a side street, they passed several brothels before coming to a tenement that was even more run down then the one they called home.

"Gods, what a dive," Dynari said as she gazed up the chipped white-wash and cracked stone of the sprawling apartment building.

"Hey, at least he's only on the third floor," Methredhel said as they walked into the central atrium of the towering structure. Laundry hung from lines crisscrossing the open space in the center of the building. Children screamed and ran past in a cloud, prompting Methredhel to instantly grab the coin purse hanging from her belt. An old man came after them, waving a shoe in one hand and yelling something unintelligible.

"Another day in utopia," Dynari's voice fairly dripped with sarcasm. "Imperial culture is truly unmatched across Tamriel."

"This is a palace compared the shantytown I used to live in." Methredhel led the way to the stair that curled up around the edges of the atrium, leading to the upper floors. "At least they have a well here, and cobblestones to walk on. All we had was mud and Lake Rumare. You didn't dare drink from the lake either, because you know what people did in it."

"I don't mind living poor, but not that poor," the other woman shuddered against Methredhel's slender frame. "I don't know how you managed it."

"Teresa taught me how," the Bosmer thief smiled faintly at the thought of her friend. "You just make the most of what you have, and be thankful for it. Because it could be worse. Things can always be worse."

"Well, here we are, third floor, second door from the stair," Dynari said, eyeing the apartment before them. "Are you sure this is the right one?"

"That's what Simplicia said," Methredhel breathed, also staring at the chipped wood of the entrance. "She's usually good about those things. She spent nearly two decades spying out prospects for the Guild, so she knows how to shadow people."

"So what does she have against thieves then?" the young Imperial asked.

"Nothing," Methredhel sighed, "it's just me. I corrupted her pristine daughter. She'd probably blame the Oblivion Crisis on me if she could."

"You are such a bad influence," Dynari almost giggled. Then the Imperial's eyes cast around the walkway that surrounded the atrium. "Let's do it then. You're better with picks than I am, so you get the door. I'll keep an eye out."

Methredhel nodded, and fished the small, book-like leather case from her coin purse. Unbinding the rawhide that held it shut, she opened the packet and fished out a pick and tension wrench from the loops that secured them within. Starting with the wrench, she inserted it into the keyhole and turned it.

There, she thought as she followed with her pick. That moved the plug just enough to make a ledge for the pins to rest on when she pushed them up. Now using the curved end of her pick, she began working each pin in the lock up and out of the plug, hearing a slight click as each slid into place above it.

"We've got company," she heard Dynari whisper. Her heart doubled its pace, and the noise of footsteps on the nearby stair came to her ears. Work the lock, she told herself. Don't think about the bystander, just work the lock.

"Who are you two?" came a woman's voice from somewhere behind her. "What are you doing in Valen's apartment?"

"We're a late lunch," the thief heard Dynari simper behind her. She felt the other woman's bare flesh against her back. Nocturnal, please let her be blocking me from the view of whoever that is, Methredhel thought to herself as she worked the last pin. "Valen sent us up ahead while he cashes in his winnings, but his key's dreck. Maybe you'd like an early dinner when we're done?"

Methredhel had to fight down a giggle as she heard bystander cough loudly. "Well I never!" came an outraged voice.

"Well you should try us then," Dynari's voice piped up, and Methredhel could feel the Imperial's hips grinding against her back. "Five drakes apiece, and we'll open an Oblivion Gate between your legs!"

Then the sound of footsteps resumed on the stairs, much faster this time. Dynari was right, Methredhel thought, the prostitute disguise was a good one!

Then the last pin clicked into place. The plug slid sideways, opening the lock. Reaching back to take Dynari by the hand, Methredhel pulled her into the apartment.

"Come on lover, let's make sure we're ready for Valen when he gets here," she said loudly, hopefully enough so that the bystander could hear from the stairs above. The Imperial shut the door behind them, and they looked over the small domicile.

"This place is a real pit," Dynari observed. Muddy footprints went to and fro across the wooden floor. The few pieces of furniture within were chipped and faded, and draped with dirty clothes. Propped against one wall was a shovel, pry bar, and several burlap bags. Empty wine jugs lay scattered about, one still dripping the last of its contents from its open mouth. The air was stale and smelled of mildew, causing Methredhel to wrinkle her nose in disgust.

"Keep an eye out, I'll look through the place," Methredhel breathed. Dynari turned back to the door and cracked it open, peering into the atrium of the insula outside. In the meantime Methredhel explored the rest of the apartment. There was a small kitchen area with a stone hearth and dining table. Several half-eaten crusts of bread lay on the floor, now covered in mold. The icebox and cupboards were empty, which the thief considered a blessing.

Moving to the final room in the hovel, Methredhel found a stained rattan bed, wardrobe, and writing table. The wardrobe held nothing but threadbare wool and flax clothing. Next to the quill and inkpot on the table she found a book laying open. Peering through the rough scrawl upon it, she found that it was a ledger. It listed what appeared to be deliveries of goods to Thoronir, and his payments for them. Each set of items came from a different person, and most appeared to be jewelry and clothing of silk and velvet. But Methredhel also saw some listings for things like weapons, statuettes, a painting, even a few gold teeth and a glass eye.

"This is a blackmail list," Methredhel thought aloud. Simplicia was right, it was all stolen. Dreth must have been keeping the book for extra leverage against the shopkeeper. Perhaps in case Thoronir had second thoughts about their arrangement, and tried to turn him in? Or maybe just to extort him? There was no mention of Dreth himself on the list, so nothing to directly implicate the dark elf. Except of course that he had the ledger.

Gathering up the book, Methredhel returned to the main living chamber, where Dynari still waited by the door. "I have what we need," she said, "let's get out of here."

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Dec 8 2010, 03:19 AM

[Olen]

I liked that part, it was good fun. Disguse in plain sight and all that always is and sending the woman away by offering her services topped it all off. The fun was well worked into the action though, there was the rubbish place where Dreth lived (I could just picture it) and the seriousness of what they were doing to offset it.

And not this quest properly diverges, and cleverly, though I suspect they havn't worked out the source of the goods. Yet.

Interestingly I first came across the meditation in 16.4 as a 'celtic' thing, though it seems to be one which crops up in various forms.

[hazmick]

The words "let's get out of here." sound simpler than the actual escape, perhaps the next chapter will have an untimely visit from vile Valen?

Your descriptions of the apartment block brought it to life, I felt as if I was in there with Methredhel and Dynari (and in those outfits that wouldn't be a bad thing ). You've done a great job with the characters in this chapter, you've really brought them to life as well.

I thought you'd like to know that the line about the...'Oblivion gate' still has me cleaning Earl Grey from my laptop

More soon I hope, the suspense is unbearable!

This post has been edited by hazmick: Dec 7 2010, 10:47 PM

[treydog]

"It's deader than the Reman Emperors in here,"

I just loved that contextual comment- it is those small touches that make your story breathe with its own life (unlike the aforesaid emperors).

Teresa, where are you now cherry blossom? On the road to Bravil? Mara protect you, the old woman thought, and save you from your own damn foolishness.

That is another wonderful bit of writing- the last bit is especially ironic, considering what Simplicia is about to get up to.

An excellent plot twist to make Dreth the source for Thoronir’s cheap goods. And Simplicia’s flashback was quite chilling.

To quote the “good parts” of the scene between Simplicia and Meth would require highlighting the entire conversation. Powerful, moving, and very true to life.

In Dynari, you yet again manage to introduce a memorable, wonderful character with whom we fall in love. (Or maybe it's just the outfit )

If I have mentioned it lately, this is one of the best stories I have ever read. Not just best fan-fiction- best fiction of any kind.

[Destri Melarg]

So many wonderful little character rendering details are incorporated into this chapter! I could spend several pages listing them all, but for the benefit of those who will post after me I will restrain myself . . .

But I just have to acknowledge a few!

- Methredhel turning one way and another in front of the mirror to see how little the outfit did not leave bare.

- The nonchalant way that Dynari (with whom I am now hopelessly in love) reached into Methredhel’s top to retrieve the lockpicks.

- Methredhel immediately grabbing for her coin purse when prompted by the sight of screaming, running children. Did she recognize herself in those kids, I wonder?

- Finally, the description of Dreth’s room does a lot to give us a sense of the mer, even before he appears.

Now, how to tie the blackmail list to Dreth? I am sure Simplicia has some thoughts on the matter.

This post has been edited by Destri Melarg: Dec 8 2010, 03:03 AM

[Acadian]

What a lovely episode, and so fun to read! I heartily approve of the delicate recipe you used here -

A broth of mystery.
Half a bottle of intrigue.
Freshly ground humor.
Deliciously rich descriptions.
A generous pinch of sexual tension.

And the beautiful result?

Then they were clopping their way along the hard pavestones of the street outside.

I truly laughed to see the results of our two young ladies' attempt at harlotry be so described.

Seriously, this was all just delightfully done!

Nit?

"I can't believe I let you talk me into doing this," Dynari said, adjusting the plunging neckline of crop top that she wore.

I suspect this is another casualty of last minute editing (I know it well), and that you perhaps meant: 'of the crop top'. However. . . while you are considering a tweak, might I suggest: '. . . adjusting the plunging neckline of her cropped top.'

This post has been edited by Acadian: Dec 8 2010, 03:09 AM