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

[Acadian]

This is wonderful. The mysterious raven dreams/flights fit right in. It was great to see Julian again! Just very, very nicely done.

With her night vision goggles on and hair full of black feathers, down into the bowels of Vilverin she goes. . . .

[minque]

ohhh, very suggestive! I so like the dreams, mysterious, dark..sends shivers down my spine.

If your son has Oblivion then kick him off the comp and start playing it!

I'm afraid that's impossible for two reasons;

1 My son is very tall and very strong, he won't let himself be kicked anywhere...

2 Ahem..it's his comp!

[haute ecole rider]

This is very well done. And you've given me an idea . . . *scribbles madly to herself*

I liked how you moved from Fort Urasek, with its associated settlement to the ruins of Vilverin, with the added mystery of the dead bandits present. Oooooh!

[Olen]

I like the ruin, you give them a much more intense atmosphere than the 'just another dungeon' feel the in game ones had - like the ruins of an ancient magical culture should feel. I'm really excited to see what you do with the inside of it now. You introduce the daedra well as well, I can see that desire not to meet them not being fulfilled for too long...

The raven flight is quite original and is a nice touch. Using it to keep the reader up to date with external events while keeping the tight focus on Teresa is brilliant.

One nit (I think unless its an accent thing): and quickly fell to sleep -- I would always use asleep with fall (ie fell asleep) and to sleep with go (went to sleep). I can't find anything on it though so it's probably just non-standard (here anyway).

[Winter Wolf]

Just when I thought that the Sage could not take her writing any higher you have once again proven me wrong, ha, ha. That was a brilliant chapter with so many balls juggled at the same time. I loved the raven sequence and the black feathers on the ground afterwards was a very neat touch.

The finding of the bodies sets up the future of the storyline so very well, and this use of bodies is so ungame like that it immediately transports me into your amazingly crafted story realm. I have always loved that your writing takes off where the game leaves us.

Honest people are all tucked in their beds at this hour, Teresa thought as she dug through her belongings for dinner. Only rogues like her were up and about in the middle of the night.

This made me smile. Us rogues and assassins can relate to this !!

[SubRosa]

Acadian: Thank you A. Now we venture deeper into the breach...


minque: Thank you minque.

1: Age and treachery will always triumph over youth and skill.
2: Your her mom, he owes you for 9 months lodging in the womb.



haute ecole rider: Scribble, scribble, scribble...
Next we will begin to see more of the mystery behind those dead bandits.


Olen: Thank you O. We will indeed be seeing Daedra, eventually. Maybe not as soon as you might think though.

Good catch with asleep/to sleep. You were right. Fixed.


Winter Wolf: Thank you Wolf. That line you quoted does make me think of a certain Bravilian Bosmer as well...


* * *

Chapter 7c - Vilverin

Screenshot

She could see as clear as day through the enchanted lenses as she made her way down. The stair opened up into a large chamber. A semi-circular arcade was set within the walls to her left, and stretched from the landing around a hollow in the center of the room. At least twenty feet deep, a wide pillar rose from the pit, and Teresa could see what appeared to have once been a bridge ran from it back to the wall to her right. Yet now only broken stones remained of the once graceful structure, littering the floor far below.

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Moving down into the arcade, the wood elf found more broken stone on the path that bordered the pit, outside of the columns. Someone had placed long boards across the rent sections of floor. Teresa avoided these however, moving through the columns to her left and into the shadows of the arcade. The wood might give way under feet, she thought as she crept along, or creak under her weight and betray her presence.

Making a complete circuit of the arcade, the Bosmer found herself facing the direction she had come from. A rusty metal chain hung motionless from the ceiling in front of her, with a massive block of wood bristling with metal spikes hanging from its end. It looked new, as if it were freshly cut, and the forester wondered if it might have been enchanted to withstand the effects of time. A scattering of bones lay on the floor around it. She nudged one with the toe of her boot. With no flesh at all upon its smooth surface, it had obviously been here for a long time. An axe lay nearby, its dark, pitted blade still looking quite serviceable in spite of its age.

A stair led down in front of her, and Teresa gingerly edged past the hanging spike trap, careful not to touch it. She knew that if a sentry saw its wicked teeth swaying it would give her away. Mindful of more traps, she took her time going down the stair. She did not go far before the stairwell brightened from a chandelier hanging over a landing below her. Lit by glowing stones, its rusted metal was as motionless as the trap she had passed by.

Teresa made her way down, and found a table and chairs in the landing. A pair of clay cups and a pitcher sat on the table, as did a plate and chunk of bread. Sniffing one of the cups, the wood elf imagined it might be ale within. A dark stain spread across the floor at the beginning of another stairway leading down, and a pair of small spiked balls hung from the ceiling.

The traps did not show any blood on their spines, Teresa noticed as she ducked under them and continued down. They did not kill whoever made that stain on the floor, she reasoned. So what had?

Continuing down until the stair ended in an antechamber, Teresa listened carefully. Not a sound came to her ears, and she moved under the graceful lattice of metal vines that rimmed the edge of the doorway. The room itself was empty of all but rubble, yet she found two other doorways leading deeper into the complex in its far wall. Creeping up to one, she licked her dry lips and peered beyond.

Within was a massive chamber, the stone blocks of its roof held in place by graceful, vaulted pillars. Another chandelier of glowing stones lit the room to enough brightness that Teresa pushed the goggles back from her eyes. Half a dozen square pedestals rose up throughout the room, crowned by graceful metal sconces that were now empty. More lattice-framed doorways led off from the chamber into other rooms or hallways. To the left a great pit opened up, and Teresa could see a stair leading down next to it.

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Several crates were scattered throughout the room, as were tables and chairs. The latter were turned over and smashed however, and plates, cups, and other utensils were strewn across the floor. Numerous dark stains blossomed upon the stone blocks underfoot, and as the wood elf entered the room she found both weapons and armor scattered about as well. Many of the latter pieces were fractured and stained as dark as the floor.

Finally, Teresa found her first body within the ruin proper. She smelled it long before she saw it, that same sickly sweet odor as before, only now much worse. This time she did gag when she came upon the rotting flesh that barely hung upon its torn frame. She was not sure what race it might have been when it was alive, other than it could not have been an Argonian or Khajiit from the lack of a tail. She found another like it nearby, and a third. More old bones were scattered around the room as well. At least the latter did not reek, she thought.

She found more food as well. Fresh bread, vegetables, and even a cask of ale. A dozen bedrolls were arranged along the far wall, along with several chests. Within she found clothing, a deck of cards, some wood carvings, and other random items.

Someone had been living here, Teresa thought as she peered through the clutter, and it was not the corpses she saw on the floor. Those were far too old. The food was fresh. The bloodstains were no longer wet, but how long did it take for blood to dry? she wondered. Probably not too long, she imagined. Whatever happened here, it must have been recent.

So where were the people who had been living here? she wondered. Could they have simply left? With fresh bread and cups still full of ale? Not likely, she thought to herself.

Gripping her bow tightly in hand, Teresa slid the goggles back down over her eyes and continued on. The other doors in the room led to smaller side chambers that were empty. That left the depression, whose floor she could see was littered with shattered crates, but otherwise looked empty. Taking the stair down, Teresa moved through the lower room and into a gallery beyond. This looked out upon another chamber further down, and within it she could see another table, a few chairs, and a bedroll.

Once more there was no sign of any inhabitants. Yet clearly someone had been living here, Teresa thought. She slinked through the room and found a stone door whose surface was etched with a leafless tree from top to bottom. Its spreading branches glowed a soft green in the dim light, and the beauty of the craftsmanship took the wood elf's breath away. Laying her hand against the portal, she found it sliding back with hardly any effort at all.

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More empty corridors and rooms lay beyond. These places sure were big! the wood elf marveled as she made her way from one chamber to the next. Were they palaces? she wondered, or fortresses? It was impossible to tell what most of the rooms had been used for, as all of their furnishings had rotted away to dust. Only stone and decayed metal remained behind. In a few places she came across curious-shaped chests of the latter material. There were small, hexagonally shaped ones whose lids twisted off. Others were larger and rectangular-shaped. All were empty however.

The bandits had cleaned them out, Teresa thought, or whoever had killed the bandits. If indeed they were dead.

The wood elf found herself in a narrow side corridor that dead ended with what was either an altar or a funeral bier sitting in the middle of it. Another dark stain spread across the floor on one side of the stone slab, appearing to lead directly into the wall. Taking a closer look at the stones of the wall, she found nothing out of place. Yet the blood had plainly run into them.

Walking to the end of the bier, she felt the stones shift under her feet. The Bosmer's heart leapt into her throat as she jumped back, eyes darting to and fro. The grinding of stone against stone was loud in her ears, and she found that the wall where the blood disappeared was slowly lowering down into the floor, revealing a low, square corridor beyond.

Teresa felt her heart double its pace when she saw a figure within it stumbling toward her. With her Night Eye goggles she could see it plain as day. He had been an Imperial, and still wore the tattered remnants of leather and animal hide armor. His left arm was gone, and the armor over his chest was ripped open, revealing a long, thick line of stitching going down the center of his chest. His dark, unblinking eyes were glazed open, and his remaining arm reached out for the wood elf.

Without thinking, Teresa drew an arrow from the bag at her hip, set it to the nock, and drew her bow to full tension. Taking the barest instant to aim at the dead man walking toward her, she let fly. The arrow struck the walking corpse in the center of its unarmored chest, and caused it to stagger a moment before resuming its forward march.

A zombie! Teresa silently cursed as her feet took her back the way she had come. The dead man followed, moving slowly but purposely. Stay calm, Teresa told herself as she stopped and set another arrow to her bow stave. It was slow, she thought, it could not catch her. Pulling the string back to her cheek, again she took only a moment to aim. This close it was easy, so long as she did not get killed.

It took two more arrows to put the zombie down, and Teresa had backtracked through another chamber in the process. Kneeling down beside the now-still corpse, she imagined that he was not long dead. He did not smell too bad for one, nor was his flesh rotted or moldy. He was just like the others she found outside. She found a dagger at his hip, and a few mundane items like a pair of dice and a comb in his belt pouches. Yet not a single coin.

Thinking of the smell gave the wood elf pause. She had gagged at the sickly-sweet odor when she had found the first corpses. Yet after the effluvium of the much older bodies, the smell of the fresher ones now hardly bothered her at all. The forester imagined that she must be getting used to it. Either that or her nose could not smell much of anything after the reek of the old corpses.

"They say if you die in one of those places, your soul is doomed to become one of its guardians."

The words of the carter in Sideways loomed from Teresa's memory, sending a shiver down the length of her spine. Was that what happened? she wondered. Were the bandits cursed?

There was still a clear way out, the wood elf thought as she licked her lips, all she had to do was turn around, and she could leave in one piece. Unlike the former residents.

But where were the other bandits? she wondered, and where was their gold? Where were all the things that she imagined might have been in those Ayleid chests she had come across? Or that should be sitting on those sconces she saw in the main chamber? What in Oblivion was really going on here?

Teresa was not sure what it was that finally caused her to set her feet back to the secret passage she had discovered: greed, pride, or just simple curiosity. In any case she stole down it as quietly as she could, finding herself staring at a wide chamber beyond. It was lit by another of the metal and crystal chandeliers. A wide, round font of stone rose up in the center of the chamber, and it was surrounded by stone benches.

Laying across the top of font was a dead Khajiit. Sprawled on her back, her glassy eyes stared up at the ceiling overhead. Her chest and belly had been ripped open, and her intestines were spread around her body. They trailed down to the floor and back up again in a revolting web that completely shrouded her corpse, like some madman's idea of artwork.

Teresa felt her stomach churn as she took in the grisly scene. The next thing she knew she was on her knees, vomiting up the contents of her breakfast. When she finally had nothing left to heave up, she rose unsteadily to her feet, trying to spit the taste of bile from her mouth and wiping her lips with the back of her leather-clad forearm.

What kind of monster would do something like that? the forester wondered as she stared back into the chamber. It was no zombie, that was for certain. Whoever did that took their time and thought about it, was deliberate in it.

Drawing an arrow from her bag, Teresa set it to the nock of her bow as she entered the room. She found another body near a corridor leading away from it. This was a zombie, quite old by the mold that clung to its rotting flesh. Thankfully it lay still on the floor, hacked into several pieces.

Teresa moved beyond the room, trying not to think about the Khajiit. The rest of the place was bad enough, she thought, the last thing she needed was to make it worse by dwelling upon the ugly end that awaited her if she should falter.

Yet the wood elf was surprised to find that the more she did think about it, the more her fear was replaced by something in her heart that was cold and dark. No one should die like that, she thought, not even a bandit. Whoever did it had a reckoning coming…

A rattling sound came to the forester's ears as she crept up a stairway. She could not place what it could be until her eyes peered over the lip of the stair. Before her stood a skeleton, gripping an axe in one hand. Its back was to her, and it was slowly trudging down the hallway that spread out from the stair.

Rising to her feet, Teresa took the time to draw her bow to half-tension. Taking a deep breath, she slowly let out half of it as she aimed at the center of the monster's back. Then with all of her strength she drew the string back to her cheek and loosed. A moment later the steel head of her arrow pierced the backbone of the undead guardian, emerging from its sternum on other side of its body.

The skeleton made a hissing sound, which Teresa thought was strange for a creature with no lungs. It turned with a loud rattling of bones and raised its axe, springing in her direction. It was fast, much faster than the zombie. With her heart pounding in her chest, the wood elf turned and fled down the stair, fishing out another arrow as she did so.

Reaching the bottom of the stair, she bounded across the landing and turned. Drawing her bow to half-tension once more, she sighted in on the skeleton as it reached the bottom of the steps. She knew that it would be on her in seconds, and pulled her string back to her cheek. A moment later her arrow was in flight, and found a home just above her first. With that the skeleton's backbone gave way and its chest broke apart. Falling to pieces before her eyes, the creature's bones scattered around the room and lay still.

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Teresa gulped for air. Damn! that thing was quick, she thought, nearly as quick as she was. Not as tough as the zombies though. It only took half the arrows to finish it. But that speed might catch her, she realized, especially if she was cornered. She would have to be more careful around them.

Moving on, Teresa found more skeletons and old, rotting zombies. Taking the time to be quiet and unseen paid off for her, as it gave her excellent shots at the undead creatures. She was even able to kill one skeleton with a single stealth shot.

Vilverin itself went on before her, and once more Teresa was amazed at the size of the place as she continued down level after level, through both small rooms and wide chambers. One even had a large pool filled with water, and when she was unable to pick the lock of the door leading out, she had to dive in and swim her way to the rest of the complex.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 8 2010, 10:26 PM

[Olen]

Excellent update, you caught the tension very well but also the intrigue which drew her onward. And a cliffhanger. In water. Underground. Is there anywhere worse?

You give the ruin a suitably grand scale too, like Cyrodiil it's feels like it has size to fit reality better.

like some madman's idea of artwork. - excellent line, evocative.

I did spot a few things :

The word 'wood' appears quite heavily in the second and third paragraphs (seven times if I recall) between the 'wooden board' and 'wood elf'.

across the rent sections of floor -- great use of the word here, it's a strong one and unusual.
Many of the latter pieces were rent and stained -- but because it's so unusual to use it as an adjective it surprised me a bit the second time. Not sure if its worth changing though becuase its a brilliant word but the degree of proximity jarring increases (IMO) for more unusual words. Still I like it. (I may have had a point there to begin with).

She slinked through - according to my dictionary the past simple is slunk (or slank apparently), however it might be an accent thing and it might be better as slinked seeing as 'slunk' sounds somewhat dark where slinked doesn't...

He did not smell too bad for one, nor was his flesh rotted or moldy. He was just like the others she found outside. -- she gagged which she saw the first corpse though...

Excellent chapter, I really enjoyed it.

This post has been edited by Olen: Apr 25 2010, 11:17 PM

[minque]

Down down in the damp mouldy crypts! I can see her, I can smell what she smells, Her fears are mine...you really write very suggestive, and my imagination let me actually "see what she sees and feel what she feels"

Wonderful Rosie!

[Winter Wolf]

This was a very hard chapter to write because of all the run-on that was needed to describe what was happening. You did a great job with it and set up the scenes of Vilverin wonderfully well. We can all relate to the size and depth of that place !!

The screenpics added to the mystery of the ruin, and I love those nightgoggles.

She found another body near a corridor leading away from it. This was a zombie, quite old by the mold that clung to its rotting flesh. Thankfully it lay still on the floor, hacked into several pieces.
Technically a zombie is only a zombie when it has been raised to life by witchcraft / necromancy. If it is found dead then it is simply a corpse again. I understand that you wanted to contrast this body with the Khajiit one found, so perhaps just ignore my ramblings.

The skeleton made a hissing sound, which Teresa thought was strange for a creature with no lungs.
Fantastic. I like this.

This post has been edited by Winter Wolf: Apr 25 2010, 11:49 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Well done. I liked your descriptions of the corpses and rotting zombies. Very good! Brought back memories of necropsy in vet school on the Tuesday after Labor Day weekend (when the power went out on Friday and we had a heat wave of 90 plus degree weather all weekend). Ugh. Very effective.

Olen already noted my nits, so I'll say no more.

But,

[Acadian]

Oh, very well done! All of what minque said is true. Very, very real! Great descriptions of places and critters. I love Vilverin!

[SubRosa]

Olen: Thank you O. I was making a concerted effort to build tension and mystery with this, so I am glad it worked. Plus since this is Teresa's first Ayleid ruin, I wanted to put a lot of effort into describing it, and making it seem really grand.

Good points, I have gone back and edited things. I am going to leave in slinked though, slunk has never really looked right to me.


minque: Thank you M. More damp mold on the way!


Winter Wolf: Thank you WW. That first pic with the goggles on really came out well. It is actually from another ruin (Bawn), but I could not resist using it here.

You make a good point about the zombie/corpse. But I do want to keep the distinction between regular dead bandits and dead monsters that were animated. So I am going to stick with zombie.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. Ahh, such fond memories you have... However, I do feel obliged to tell everyone that those descriptions of the corpses were due in large part from your helpful advice.


(The now blond and distinctly wood elfy) Acadian: Thank you A. Who is that hottie in your avatar? I know a certain stringy Bosmer who might like to meet her...


All: This next post is going to be a big one. But I did not want to break it in the middle of the action for fear of losing the impact. I do not suggest eating anything while reading this one...

* * *

Chapter 7d - Vilverin

Finally she came upon a wide intersection of four passages. Another font rose up in the center of it, and shining quartz seemed to grow from the ceiling to light the area. Teresa was thankful when there were no bodies on the font. Instead its basin was dry, and within it sat a curious statuette.

Most of it was made of some white metal which she could not identify. It had four needle-like spines that ran up from a wide base. These were linked by a series of horizontal spars to a fifth spine made of purple crystal that hung between them in the center of the statue. Within its depths Teresa could see some kind of swirling energy, much as she had glimpsed within the heart of the Amulet of Kings. Yet the statue did not give her the warm, comfortable feeling that the amulet had. Rather it felt cold and harsh.

Teresa had no idea what it might be, but it certainly looked valuable. Without a second thought she lifted it from the basin and tucked it into her pack. It ought to bring a good price from somebody, she thought. Probably more than her potions would.

The sweet smell of rotting meat came to Teresa's nose, and afraid of what she might find, she followed it down one of the side passages. It opened up into a wide room with a stone altar in its center. She had no idea what it had been originally built for, but now it was a abattoir. Fresh corpses of several races were spread around the room, torn open and covered with dried blood. Dark, squishy things that she imagined might be organs lay scattered here and there, as did a few other body parts such as fingers and eyes.

One body lay stretched across the altar, its chest cut open and ribs pulled out to expose its innards. A large pair of shears lay on the altar beside it, blades stained dark. A needle and heavy thread sat there as well, along with a small, single-bladed knife and a heavy pair of pliers.

The next thing Teresa knew she was doubled over retching. At least she had nothing left to heave up, she thought as she backed out of the room, trying not to breathe in the stench. Well, now she knew what had happened to the rest of the bandits, she mused. Once more she thought of the entrance. It was still there, and she still had an open road to it.

Yet just as before, that coldness twisted in her guts. There was no leaving this place, she knew, not after seeing what she had. Someone was going to pay…

Backtracking to the intersection, she found the next passage dead-ended in another charnel house. A body hung by its neck from the ceiling, hands bound behind his back. He had been a bandit if the remnants of hide armor on his still undecayed flesh was anything to go by. From the dark splotches that decorated his face and protruding tongue, Teresa imagined his death was not one of a quick broken neck, but rather of slow strangulation. Worse, his stomach had been cut open, leaving his bowels spilled out across the floor underneath him.

Another bandit was crucified upon one of the walls, her body suspended by iron spikes driven though her wrists and into cracks in the stones behind her. Her chest was cut upon from throat to waist and her ribs ripped apart. Her insides were gone, leaving her torso an empty shell of meat.

The final horror was spread-eagled face-down on the floor. His back was cut open and ribs torn out. This had made it possible to pull his lungs from his body and spread them out above his shoulders, like a ghastly pair of wings. Given the rictus of agony fixed upon the dead man's features, Teresa imagined that he must have been alive when it happened.

The wood elf reeled away from the horrors. She could understand killing people like bandits, who attacked you first. But this was beyond that. It was beyond even cold-blooded murder. It was something altogether different. What kind of monster could do such a thing?

There was only one corridor left, and even though she could see clear as day with her goggles, Teresa felt like she was smothered in darkness. Mindful of the pressure plate she had stepped on earlier, the wood elf took her time, and was rewarded when she discovered a slightly raised section of the floor in front of her.

Taking a closer look at the narrow corridor ahead, she noticed three long slits in the walls to either side, running from the arched ceiling down to waist level. Beyond them the corridor turned to the right, out of her sight.

So what comes out of those? Teresa wondered, and does it still work? Getting down on hands and knees, below the level of the openings in the walls, she gingerly reached out and pressed down the stone.

She heard a snap of some kind of clasp in the walls, and a moment later three pendulums came sweeping across the corridor, their wide blades shining bright and sharp. The outer two came from her left, and the inner one from the right. It only took them a moment to slash through the empty air of the corridor and vanish into the slits in the opposite walls.

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Teresa waited, and realized that she was holding her breath. She faintly heard gears turning in the walls, and a moment later the pendulums came back across the hallway. Gulping for air, she tried not to think of what would have happened to her if she had not seen the trap.

The pendulums continued for lengthy moments. Teresa was not sure how long. The time seemed to stretch on forever, and she drew forth another arrow and set it to her nock just in case someone, or something, came along as she waited. Finally the blades vanished into the walls and stopped, and she inched her way through the corridor, being careful not to step on any more triggers.

The corridor turned to her right, and after continuing for a few steps it ended at a flight of stairs going up. The wood elf could see a light coming from above, and only after peering for more traps, she eased her way up. Before she was halfway to the top the rattling of bones came to her ears, and the wood elf paused to lick her lips before continuing.

Peeking over the last few stairs, she found that they opened up into a great chamber. It was lit by more shining crystals that grew from the center of the ceiling. Square pillars held up the vault of the roof overhead, save for one whose upper half was missing. To her left Teresa saw a raised gallery running the length of the room, and directly across from her she saw a doorway, which she imagined might lead to the walkway above.

A metal brazier sat in the middle of the room, and motes of light danced lazily up from within its basin. A stones of the floor rose slightly around it, and surrounding that were numerous biers. A skeleton lay upon one, with a sword clasped in its bony fingers. A bedroll was stretched out across another, and one of the long Ayleid chests topped a third. A fourth seemed to hold some kind of alchemical apparatuses, and a fifth had several books and writing implements.

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A skeleton patrolled to one side of the room, axe clutched in one hand and a long, oval shield in the other. Sitting on the floor with his back to one of the biers was a Redguard. His tightly curled hair was cut short, and he wore a dark robe emblazoned with a skull crossed by a pair of bony hands.

So this was the monster responsible for all of this, Teresa thought, feeling that cold rage building deep within her. Reaching down to her waist, she popped the stopper from a jar that hung from her belt. Thrusting the barbed tip of her arrow within, she withdrew it a moment later dripping with a viscous black substance. Time for him to meet her friend nightshade, the forester thought with a faint smile, replacing the stopper and setting the arrow on the nock.

Without thinking, Teresa rose to her feet on the stair, bringing her bow to half tension and sighting in on the man. The creak of her flexing bow stave was loud as thunder in her ears. Apparently not only in hers, for at that moment the skeleton whirled, fixing its empty eyesockets upon her with an eerie hiss. The Redguard must have heard the skeleton, for he too looked up as Teresa let fly.

The wood elf was not sure if it was divine or infernal providence that drove the man to reflexively throw up the book he held to protect himself. In any case, the arrow that would have pierced his chest instead sunk deeply into its pages. She heard him curse, and wondered if she had still hit one of his hands as he rose and dropped the skewered tome.

But her attention was no longer on the Redguard. Rather her gaze was riveted upon the skeleton that was now charging across the room at her. Quickly she reached for another arrow and set it to her bow stave. She did not pull it to half-tension to properly sight in on the skeleton. There would be no time, she realized. Instead she drew it back to her cheek and spared only the barest instant to aim at the onrushing monster. Then she loosed and whirled away, bounding down the stairs.

She heard the arrow thunk into something hard behind her as she raced down the steps, taking them two and a time. The rattling of bones was loud behind her, telling her the skeleton was still alive, if such a thing could be called that. The wood elf hit the landing with both feet and scampered to the end of the short hallway. Turning, she drew another arrow from the bag at her hip and raised her bow.

The skeleton was halfway down the stair, her arrow firmly planted in its tall shield. Damn, she thought, another useless shot! Raising the bow to half-tension, she sighted in on the right side of the skeleton, hoping it would not be able to block with the shield in its left hand. Then she let fly and raced around the corner. She heard another heavy thud as the arrow hit home somewhere behind her. Probably in its shield, she mused sourly.

That is when she realized where she was. The pendulum trap! She felt a pressure plate give way beneath her bounding toes, and dove to the floor as the whooshing of metal cutting through air filled her ears. A cool breeze rushed by, and she knew that one of the swinging blades had passed by overhead. She saw another sweep across the corridor ahead of her, and rather than rise to her feet, she rolled down the hallway, trying to keep as low to the floor as possible.

She surged to her feet at the far end, turning to look back the way she came. The skeleton had already turned the corner, and was charging down the corridor at her with axe raised. A moment later a pendulum sailed from the wall beside it, ripping its bones to shreds in an instant.

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A faint smile came to the wood elf's lips as she drew another arrow and poisoned it. Saved by one of the very traps meant to kill her! she thought, how ironic was that?

"I don't know who you are, but you picked the wrong tomb to raid!" The voice of the Redguard came from around the corner at the end of the pendulum hall. Teresa raised her bow and drew it back to half-tension, sighting in on the lip of the wall. A moment later she saw curly hair and shot. But at the same moment one of the pendulums chose to arc through the hallway, and the forester's arrow snapped against its blade.

"Not your day is it tree-hugger!" the man snickered, extending his hand. A bolt of fire erupted from his fingers and sped toward her. Yet it too fizzled out when it struck a swinging pendulum.

Teresa drew another arrow as the Redguard ducked back around the corner. Taking the time to poison it as well, she once again set it to the nock. She waited, and after several long moments she heard a grinding sound within the walls, and the blades stopped in mid-flight.

He must have a switch to turn them off, Teresa thought. Not wasting a moment, she darted into the hallway, careful to step around the deadly blades that now hung motionless. Emerging past them, she stepped back around the corner and looked up the stair in time to see the Redguard silhouetted at the top.

She raised her bow and fired. At the same time the mage once more threw out his arm, but now a bolt of lightning shot out. Heat seared into Teresa's side as she felt herself pushed back against the far wall. The smell of roasting meat filled her nostrils. Yet in spite of that she smiled faintly. For she had seen her arrow strike home this time, in spite of the yellow flash of a Shield spell as it had hit.

Still, she did not want another of those. Pushing herself off the wall, she dove around the corner. Pain erupted in her side, and she stared down at the charred leather of her cuirass even as her free hand reached into one of her belt pouches. It would not survive many more of those, the wood elf thought, nor would she. Drawing forth a small bottle, she pulled the stopper out with her teeth and hastily poured the pink liquid down her throat.

Just like that the pain vanished. Willing her hands to stop trembling, Teresa drew another arrow and set it to her nock. Taking a deep breath, she raised her bow and stepped back around the corner.

She found herself staring at a headless zombie. She fired out of reflex, taking it square in the chest. It paused a moment as the barbed head struck home, then reached out for her with a clawed hand. Desperately scrabbling backward, Teresa lost her balance. The next thing she knew she was on the floor. Another bolt of lightning sizzled through the place she had been standing a moment before. Yet it was the zombie that filled her vision.

Rolling to one side as its arm swept at her, Teresa scuttled back down the pendulum hallway. She wished there were one of those switches to activate it on her side as she navigated her way through the blades. If wishes were horses we would all ride, she thought as she drew another arrow and set it to her stave.

She turned at the end of the hall to find the zombie still working its way around the first pendulum. At least the blades were slowing it down, she thought as she took careful aim and shot, piercing one of its hips. The zombie continued with a noticeable limp after that, and Teresa pulled another arrow and sent it into the other hip.

The zombie crashed to the floor after that, yet still it crawled forward. At the end of the hall behind it she saw the robes of the mage. This time she was able to step out of the way as another bolt of lightning flashed brightly in the corridor. Now she saw that the arrow was gone from the necromancer's body. He had pulled it out, she thought, but had he noticed the poison on the tip?

Teresa backed up to the font where she had found the curious statuette. Crouching behind its hard stone, she drew another arrow. She rose a moment later and drew her bow to half-tension, sighting in on the zombie. Letting fly, she buried the arrow between its shoulders, and it vanished into thin air.

Drawing forth another arrow, she lifted her eyes to the mage and took careful aim on his figure. As she did so, she wondered why he had not fired another bolt of fire or lightning at her. Maybe he was casting some kind of protective spell?

In any case, he dodged to the side, putting one of the pendulums between the two of them. Teresa held her fire and sidestepped, looking for a clear shot. She caught sight of him drinking a potion as she finally found an opening. Letting fly, she once more saw the bright flash of a Shield spell as her arrow struck home in his arm.

With a snarl on his lips, the Redguard pointed at her with his other hand. Lightning flashed, and the next thing Teresa knew she was on the floor with bright spots dancing in her eyes. Gritting her teeth, the forester scuttled behind the font as agony seared through her chest. Now she saw that her cuirass was a blackened and smoldering ruin as she reached for another healing potion and greedily downed its contents.

Which one of us is going to run out of potions first? she wondered as she reached for another arrow. The thought made her stop. What in Oblivion was she doing? she wondered. This fetcher was a necromancer, and a real sadistic one at that. Was she really fighting him? Why on Nirn was she not running away like any sane person would?

The Emperor's face filled her mind's eye then, his blue eyes flashing brighter than any lightning bolt. "It is our choices in life that define us." his words echoed in her brain. Could she really choose to run, after what she had seen?

"Come out here and die while you still have the option of doing it quickly!" the necromancer's voice ripped through the hallway. It had an edge to it that was not simply anger or hatred, Teresa noted. Rather it sounded like pain. She wanted to shout something witty back at him, or at least something defiant, like all the heroes did in the stories. Yet her tongue seemed frozen in her mouth, and all she could do was smile faintly as she rose and brought her bow to bear.

She let her arrow speak for her as it flew down the hallway. Once again it passed by a bolt of lightning as it found a home in the Redguard's shoulder. This time Teresa was ready however, and she had fallen behind the stone font just an instant before the deadly energy hissed past overhead.

Teresa took a deep breath. She could do this, she thought, she was quicker, and he would run out of magicka far sooner than she would run out of arrows.

With that inspiration blossomed within her head. Rather than taking the time to ready another arrow, she fixed the symbol of her Flare spell firmly in mind. Leaning out from around the side of the round pedestal, she gestured toward the necromancer and loosed a bolt of fire from her hand.

As she expected, he rolled to the side to avoid the oncoming flames. But rather than ducking back to cover, she was already hurling another blast of fire, and another, leading her shots in the direction she knew he would have to move to dodge her previous bolts. Thanks to the energy loaned to her by the Ayleid well outside the ruin, she was able to fill the corridor with a veritable wall of fire, and soon enough the Redguard screamed as he was caught in at least one of the blasts.

It was only when she was finally out of magicka that Teresa ducked back behind the font and reached for another arrow. As she did another thought came to her head. Normally she could only use magic a few times before completely running out of energy and having to wait for it to build back up again. He had been burning through spells like mad since she had seen him. How much energy could he really have? Then she remembered the potion she had seen him drinking. Had it been one to give him more magicka?

She would just have to shoot faster than he could drink, the wood elf resolved as she rose to her feet and aimed down the hall. The Redguard was gone however. But now another zombie was standing in his place. As soon as she came into view it lurched toward her, reaching out with its long fingers.

Another summoning, the forester thought as she took aim and put an arrow into the zombie's hip. It continued forward with a limp, and Teresa backed away as she pulled out another arrow. She had played this game before, she thought, and could do so again. The zombie was down with a few more arrows, and finished with a fourth through the head.

With still no sign of the necromancer, Teresa moved back down the pendulum hall with an arrow on the nock. Sidestepping around the far corner, only an empty stair greeted her eyes. Several empty potion bottles lay carelessly discarded on the floor of the landing, as did a curious blue-green crystal.

It was long, about the size of her fist, and tapered to a diamond-shaped point. Its wide base was sheathed in a delicate latticework of the same metal she had seen throughout the ruin. The memory of the empty sconces on the pedestals in the bandit's chamber came to Teresa's mind, and she wondered if it had once sat atop one of them.

Teresa forgot about the odd stone when she caught sight of a trail of blood leading up the steps. She smiled faintly as she scampered up the stair and into the great chamber beyond, bow at the ready. There was still no sign of the necromancer, and the wood elf carefully sidestepped around each bier in the chamber, ready to shoot in case he was hiding behind one.

The wood elf picked up the trail of blood in the doorway at the far end of the room. Following it, she found that it did indeed lead up a short, winding stair to the gallery that flanked the side of the chamber. She moved briskly, but not so fast that she might blunder into a trap or ambush.

Soon Teresa found herself climbing a tall stair that ended with another of the tree-engraved doors. Beyond she found herself standing in a thick copse of trees. Behind her the doorway was part of a tiny structure, just large enough to fit the door and the space for a person to walk down the stair beyond.

The sound of water lapping the shore was loud in her ears, and as the wood elf made her way through the thicket she saw the ruins spread out before her. It was a back door, she thought as her eyes scanned to and fro. Yet there was no sign of the necromancer, and no more droplets of blood for her to follow.

He had escaped.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 28 2010, 11:28 PM

[haute ecole rider]

He had escaped

Darnnit!

This was very well written, fast paced and extremely intense. I didn't even notice the length of the post - it was that good.

The use of magicka in this scene is well described, and more than I would have imagined. Julian has a lot to learn from Teresa, it seems.

[Olen]

I agree, the length made that build into something really tense, following the necromancer up the stair and expecting an ambush had me on the edge of my seat.

And now she's beaten him, another development in her. Great stuff. I wonder how much mroe we'll see of necromancers..

A body hung by its neck from the ceiling, hands bound behind his back -- I wasn't sure about this line but have decided that I really like it. Using 'it' initially then moving to 'he' really brings home that the corpses were people.

Great stuff, it really enhances Cyrodiil

Nit:
"It is out choices in life that define us." -- just a typo, but it was all I saw.

[SubRosa]

Thank you haute and Olen. I will have proper replies tomorrow, when I post the conclusion of Chapter 7.

Right now however I would like to ask for a little help from people, and give you all a chance at getting your characters into the TF (I know, what a thrilling honor... ). I am going to start writing a chapter soon that involves a lot of Fighter's Guild members, and I would like to put some meat on the characters. I know who the primary characters are, but I could still use about a dozen more characters acting as extras.

Rather than create them all on my own, I thought I might turn to all of you out there. If you have a character from the game that you think would fit, please send me their name, race, description (including gear), and personality traits. I am not going to get into anything really deep with them in the story, but I would like to have a group of people that are vibrant and stand out. Think of the Marines in the movie Aliens. Keep in mind that like in the movie, these characters will not survive the chapter...

So if you have a fighter type (not necessarily in the FG in your game), please let me know. Rather than spam the thread, please PM me the info. In a few weeks you might see them die in a loud and glorious fashion in the TF.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 30 2010, 10:31 PM

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. In my outline I just have "Teresa has titanic fight with necromancer and he escapes". I think this was probably the best action scene I have ever done. I tried to portray the antagonist as being smart, and liberally using the same toys available to the player in the game. Not to mention fleeing when things looked bad for him. I also tried to show that luck is not always on Teresa's side either, with many of her arrows missing by chance.

Did you mean Teresa spamming the corridor with Flare spells? I learned that from the Imps in Doom. One of the fun things about that game was standing in a hallway with a dozen Imps at the other end and dodging all the fireballs.

Olen: We will see more necromancers, but not for a long while. When I left off at the Bethesda forum I was just about to start with a necromancer arc. Eventually we will get to that part. Teresa will of course get the chance to square off with Jalbert (the necromancer from this chapter) again as well.

I did not notice that it/he with the hanged man! Since it works I suppose I may as well leave it as it is.

I did fix the other typo. Good eye on that!

All: Now the blessedly short conclusion of Vilverin.


* * *

Chapter 7e - Vilverin

Returning the way she had come, Teresa explored the necromancer's lair. She found a fist-sized block of stone pressed half-way into the wall near the stairway down below. It was etched with a pattern of cyan vines similar to those she found on the Ayleid doors. That might be to turn the pendulums on and off, she imagined, and left it alone.

Within the brazier at the center of the room she found not a fire, but rather more cyan crystals like she had seen in the hallway. Unlike that one however, these glowed brightly, and sent tiny motes of light into the air around them, floating like wisps of pollen on a spring day.

Those had to be valuable, she thought, reaching out a hand to gather them up. As soon as she touched one she felt the magicka within it. It was some form of reservoir of power, she realized, and as she stared at the stone in her fingers, she realized that she could draw that energy into herself, much like she had with the well outside. The necromancer must have used the one in the hallway below to keep his magicka up during the fight, she realized.

One stone was different from the others. It was long and slender, tapering to points at both ends, and had an elegant metal latticework bound around its center rather than its base. She could feel magicka within it as well when she handled it. Yet it seemed different, more distant, as if something was blocking her ability to draw it into herself. It must be used for something else, Teresa thought. Yet it was still clearly magical, so she took it along with the others.

Moving to the nearest bier, a closer look at the apparatuses on it revealed them to be alchemical after all. Along with a mortar and pestle, she found what she imagined was a calcinator, alembic, and retort. She had seen them in the alchemical shops in the Market District, but had never used them. Well, there was a first time for everything, she thought as she put them aside with the energy crystals.

The Ayleid coffer held two bags. The first contained some bread, produce, and bottles of wine. After the things she had seen in the ruin, Teresa could not even imagine eating anything that had been in the same place. The other clinked as she unwrapped the leather strap tying it shut, and the wood elf's eyes lit up at the sight of the coins filling it. Here was the loot of the bandits, she thought as she quickly hoisted it from the chest and put it with the magical stones. She could only imagine what Simplicia would say when she saw it. In the very least, she could keep the old woman off the streets and in a warm, dry room for some time.

She only glanced at the bier with the skeleton on it. It was not moving, and that was all that really concerned her. Besides, its sword and armor were rusted and pitted with age. Not worth the effort of carrying to a merchant to sell them.

The writing bier revealed several books, including one titled Varieties of Daedra, which appeared to describe the minions of one of the Daedric Princes. That might come in useful, Teresa thought, given what people were saying about the Daedra being on the loose. So she put that aside with the rest of the loot. The other books she found seemed less interesting. One named The Misfortunes of Virtue, a guidebook on the Imperial City, and a bunch about Imperial history.

Then off to one side she came across a tome that looked unusual, bound in some kind of light tan leather. A skull and pair of crossed bony hands made of pieces of silver were set into the leather face, and The Mysteries of the Worm was likewise stamped across the top in silver. Opening its cover, she found it to be filled with gruesome pictures of mutilated corpses, mysterious symbols, and text that spoke of preparing the dead.

Necromancy, the wood elf thought as the pages fell from her hands. She wiped her fingers on her greaves, trying to get the feeling of the soft leather binding from her mind. What kind of hide had that come from? she wondered, feeling her stomach churning once more.

Before she could quit the writing area entirely, a letter caught Teresa's eye. Curiosity piqued the wood elf to take a closer look.

Alucard, my friend -

At first I thought my necessarily hasty exile to be a curse, leaving me bereft of the comforts of civilization. But my new haven provides not only safety, but a cornucopia of flesh. That it is far from the prying eyes and ears of the Imperial Legion only makes it all the more suitable. Now I need not worry about subterfuge in obtaining my materials, nor precautions when preparing them. You should hear the screams that ring through these halls! They would make your blood boil with delight.

Even more fortuitous, I have made an association with like-minded individuals here in Cyrodiil. They have invited me to join their fraternity, and I am seriously considering it. They not only promise of the deeper lore of lichdom, but whisper to me that their patron is none other than the King of Worms himself! They have given me a book written in his own hand, and the mysteries that it reveals only whet my appetite for more.

A group of bandits moved in here not long ago, thinking it not only a safe refuge, but also a convenient location to prey upon travelers on the road, which is not too far away. Truly, does the darkness smile upon me. They have provided me with great sport in the last few days, especially those I was able to take alive. You were right in convincing me to learn more of restoration, for thanks to those arts I was able to prolong the entertainment far longer than otherwise possible. If only you could have been here to enjoy it with me!

Jalbert

Wishing she had not read it, the forester crumpled the paper and threw it into the now empty brazier at the center of the room. The manual of necromancy followed, and soon both were consumed in the blaze of a Flare spell. With the crackling of flames behind her, Teresa made her way out of the darkness and into the light above.



Notes: De Vermis Mysteriis, or Mysteries of the Worm, is not mine. It is a part of the Cthulhu Mythos created by Robert Bloch. The title was perfect though, so I borrowed it. Likewise, The Misfortunes of Virtue is a real book, written by the Marquis de Sade.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 12 2011, 09:44 PM

[haute ecole rider]

An outstanding conclusion to a tense episode in what I still consider to be one of the spookiest dungeons ever!

In my previous comment, I had meant the entire confrontation with the necromancer, for exactly the reasons you state. It was a great magical battle and gave me ideas for battlemages! My typical playing style is mostly melee, with some marksmanship thrown in, and magic is often an afterthought for me. So to read combat that is purely spell-based, especially as well-written as yours, is pure delight for me.

I look forward to more!

[Olen]

A good bit of looting in conclusion to a dungeon raid, makes me wonder where next...

The letter is excellently done, rather better than the in game one and further bending the world to a slightly different perspective which is pleasant to see

I too look forward to more.

(I'm afraid I haven't got any fighters for you, the only one I have is Firen and he'd be a shade young in 4E1...)

[Remko]

Damn... I soooo badly wanted Jalbert's bloody corpse sprawled across those steps near the altar after your awesome (more eewsome but ok ) awful desciption of the horrors in that room..... Truly a GREAT combat scene!

Please, PLEASE, have her run in with that despiccable excuse for a human being again.....

Oh, and I loved the new part with the ravens

This post has been edited by Remko: May 4 2010, 12:40 PM

[SubRosa]

haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. Vilverin is one of my favorite Ayleid ruins. They really put a lot into it, probably because it is the first dungeon you see when you exit the sewers.

You should try playing a pure mage sometime. It is a lot of fun, and really a potent character type. At higher levels much more powerful than your basic fighter. Try a conjurer to start with, as they are easy. You just conjure up a melee fighting critter, and the bad guys will always ignore you and go straight for it instead. Then go to a touch destruction spell, step behind the bad guy, and blast away.


Olen: Thank you Olen. I started with the letter from the game, making only a few alterations to it. But the more I worked on the chapter, the more of it I threw out, until finally it was completely new. Now it really shows quite a bit of insight into Jalbert's personality, and also has a hint of the necromancer conspiracy that we will be seeing more of in the future.

No worries about the fighter. I actually came up with nearly a dozen of my own in the last few days. Watching the Sharpes Rifles films again has certainly helped!


Remko: Thank you Rem. I wanted there to be no doubt that Jalbert was a villain, so I added the gruesome touches in the "play room" of his. We will be seeing him again...


All: We continue on with another all-new chapter, where Teresa learns more about her feathered friends. But first, she hears more news about the ongoing Oblivion Crisis.


* * *

Chapter 8a - The Witch of Lake Trasimene

10th - 17th Midyear, 3E433

The sun was rising when Teresa came to the Red Ring Road, a burlap sack filled with loot hanging over one shoulder. She paused a moment, looking back the way she had come. The ground sloped down beneath her, giving her a clear view across the miles of woodland to the lake beyond. Near its blue waters she could still pick out the broken arches of Vilverin, rising like white fangs from green forest canopy.

The wood elf set down her load with a sigh, and treated herself to a squirt of water from the skin that hung diagonally across her chest. She looked back at the rising sun. She should be going to bed soon, the forester thought. Yet after what she had seen the previous night, Teresa was in no mood to close her eyes. That necromancer was still on the loose, she knew. For all she knew he might even be watching her, waiting for a chance to strike back…

No, Teresa thought with a faint smile, she had well and truly sent him packing. He probably would not stop running until he reached Skyrim…

With that thought, Teresa lifted her bag and set her feet to the road. Putting the lake to her right, she made her way back in the direction of Urasek. She could take the ferry to the City Isle and be back to the Imperial City itself in maybe half a week, she thought. Or perhaps she might head east, where Cheydinhal still waited at the end of the Blue Road.

In time the sound of horses came to her ears, their neighs and whinnies occasionally rising above the steady clomping of hooves on the hard stones of the road. Then came the tramping of marching feet, along with the clatter of metal against metal. Out of reflex, the wood elf moved to the side of the thoroughfare and found a place to hide. She knew that sound all too well from her years in the Imperial City. It was soldiers, and from the steadily increasing noise, there were a lot of them coming in her direction.

They came into view soon after. First was a double column of riders. Teresa imagined that there must be at least three dozen of them, if not more. They wore the heavy plate of the Imperial Legion, and the points of their lances glittered in the air above their heads. One of them hoisted a standard topped with the golden head of a dragon, jaws agape as if in mid-roar. A brightly-colored silk windsock flowed out behind the head, making it look like it was flying through the air.

Behind them came the foot soldiers, tromping down the road six abreast. Clad in the same steel plate as the riders, their helmets hung in front of their chests, dangling from straps around their necks. Their shields were covered in leather, and likewise hung from straps around their left shoulders. Each tilted a cross back over the same shoulder, made from two wooden stakes tied together, with a bedroll and other gear hanging off the crossbeam. Finally each wore an arming sword on one hip, and a wide-bladed dagger on the other.

No wonder they called themselves mules, the forester thought, at the moment they looked more like pack animals than fighters.

The infantrymen were led by standard bearers. Their armor was covered with the hides of wolves and bears, and their faces peeked out from the opened jaws of the beast's heads. One carried a long standard topped by a golden wreath surrounding an opened hand. A series of silver discs ran down the shaft beneath it, ending in an upturned crescent. Beside him stood another man hoisting aloft a simpler square of red velvet, edged in cloth-of-gold with the words Cohors III emblazoned upon it in the same material.

Yet what really caught the wood elf's eye was the third standard, which was crowned by a golden sculpture of a man's head. It was the likeness of an Imperial in his prime. In spite of the difference in age, Teresa recognized him instantly, for his face was forever burned upon her memory. It was Emperor Uriel Septim VII.

Teresa rose from her hiding place, transfixed by the image of the Emperor waving in the air above the heads of the oncoming legionaries. She could still see his piercing blue eyes in her memory, and hear his voice in her ears. Her throat tightened, and she could feel her eyes moisten in spite of herself.

The next thing she knew she was standing beside the road as the standard-bearers passed her. A line of trumpeters came next, their great instruments curling around their torsos before ending in wide bells over their heads. A soldier with a transverse-crested helmet hanging from his neck strode beside them. In one hand he grasped a swagger stick carved with the likeness of vines curling up around its length. Otherwise he looked much the same as the other soldiers.

"Damn fine standard, isn't it?" said the man, his eyes following Teresa's gaze. The forester instantly recognized him as a centurion. "Damn fine man too. I'll miss him when we get our new one."

Teresa blinked. An officer in the Imperial Legion was talking to her? Not growling, or snarling, but simply talking? She had to resist the urge to look around to see if anyone else was standing behind her. Yet even more surprising was that she found herself responding. "New one?"

"You haven't heard the rumors yet?" the centurion stopped now and wiped the sweat from his brow as the rest of his men marched by. Teresa noted that his hair had long since gone to grey, and the feet of an entire murder of crows were etched into the corners of this dark eyes. When the wood elf shook her head, the middle-aged Imperial went on.

"They say we have a new Emperor, one the fetching assassins missed." The soldier paused to spit on the dirt beside the road. "I heard his name is Martin, Martin Septim, and the Hero of Kvatch is with him."

"The Hero of Kvatch?" Teresa wondered aloud. Somehow she knew who that must be. "You mean Julian, the Redguard?"

"That's her alright," the centurion seemed to grow even taller and straighter, if that was possible. "Julian of Anvil. She single-handedly closed the Oblivion Gate and then led the way back into the city. She was a centurion in the Sixth Legion up in Skyrim, the Ironclads."

Teresa remembered her dream from the day before. Julian, Jauffre, and the young Imperial with his father's eyes, all making their way into the mountains north of Lake Rumare. Her head turned in that direction. Somewhere out there, in the peaks that rose far in the distance, they were there. Martin Septim, Jauffre, and Julian of Anvil - The Hero of Kvatch.

"Bruma…" Teresa muttered, "it's Bruma up that way right?"

"Yeah, that's where we're headed, Bruma," the centurion said. "Almost all the Fifth is going there. The Elder Council called up all the battlemages in Cyrodiil, so we'll have the Mages Guild with us. The Fighters Guild too. The next time we'll be ready."

"The next time?" the wood elf asked, eyebrows furrowing together.

"It's not over yet kid," the centurion rumbled. "It won't be until we've hunted down every last one of those fetchers and nailed them to crosses."

Teresa shuddered in spite of herself. She had seen that before. Not the aftermath of the necromancer's rough work, but the real thing, as it happened, taking people days to die. It was always outside the Market Gate, where the Imperial Legion hanged murderers as well. But hanging was only for people who killed an ordinary citizen, she knew. Those who killed a patrician, or a legionary, had four nails and a cross waiting for them…

"Until then you better be careful, without us doing our regular patrols the bandits are going to start getting bold." The soldier gestured at the blackened and scorched mess of Teresa's cuirass. "Looks like you've already found that out."

Teresa looked down at herself. Now that she saw it in the light of day, she found that her armor was in a worse state than she had imagined. It was amazing what only a few lightning bolts could do, she thought. She was going to have to get it repaired, or buy a new suit. Looking back up, she found that the centurion was on his way again, cursing a blue streak as he jogged his way back to the head of the column.

Teresa stood there for a long time as the soldiers marched by. They just kept coming, with more standards, trumpeters, and even mules loaded down with equipment filing past her. There were even people who were clearly civilians scattered between the rank and file legionaries, carrying equipment. It was as if a vast snake - or a dragon - was winding its way down the road.

With no end of the dragon's tail in sight, Teresa turned her gaze behind her. The hills rose to a high ridge, and somewhere far behind them was Cheydinhal. Since there was no way she was going down the road with the Imperial Legion on it, she lifted her gear and headed east.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 12 2011, 10:32 PM