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

[Jacki Dice]

I second Acadian's thoughts on the way you made Aia speak. I always hear Angela Lansbury in Sweeny Tood when I imagine it

Speaking of imaginations, this made me think of Simplicia and Teresa.

[Grits]

I looked up Baa Baa Black Sheep, and soon the first disc should be on its way, yay. I also went back and read The Battle of Bruma in one sitting, what a powerful chapter! I remembered Pappy, but I had forgotten that Vincent was there. Also I have a much clearer vision of Tadrose now, thanks to the refresher.

I wonder how Theresa will handle her next meeting with Pappy. I expect he is familiar with the sight of an angry female storming away from him. I am warming up to Bravil, and I am curious about this handsome-voiced orc with the melodious name!

[SubRosa]

Olen: I am just ignoring the whole Night Mother's lair underneath the statue. I never liked the idea of it being there to begin with. Funny you mention that about wine though, because within a day (and probably over a dozen more posts), Teresa will indeed by buying some!


Acadian: Aia is a fun character to write, although her speech patterns are difficult.


Jacki Dice: Ooh that nearly made me cry! Thank you Jacki. It was indeed perfect. I usually think of Ayumi Hamasaki's song Who when it comes to how Teresa thinks of Simplicia (the original from the Loveppears album, not the remake of it). This one is perfect to show the opposite!


Grits: Pappy is indeed accustomed to dealing with angry females! We will be seeing plenty more of Ancondil from here on out. He is one of my favorite characters in the Bravil FG.


Next: In our previous episode Teresa's rage cooled off, and a conversation with Aia made her look at her experience in the Fighters Guild in an entirely new light. Finally she was offered an invitation to dine by a mysterious Orisimer later that afternoon. Next, she learns more about this interesting orc with an elvish name.


Chapter 27.2 –The Lucky Lady

"Oh my, thank you. That is very generous." Teresa allowed the ghost of a smile to cross her lips as she sat across the table from the other mer. Starting at his ears, a mane of raven-black hair grew down from around his head. Above that the green dome of his skull was shaven clean, except for a long ponytail that rose from the back of his scalp and fell past his shoulders. A book and a glass of brandy sat beside the orc's hand. In front of him was a half-eaten plate of roast lamb covered in gravy, with potatoes ladled with sour cream and chives on the side. The sight of the latter made the wood elf's stomach rumble once more. "My name is Teresa."

"It is my honor," Ancondil said, bowing his head to her. Before Teresa could reply he turned and called for the waitress, a plump but otherwise attractive Nibenean who took Teresa's order for dinner and returned a few moments later with a glass of wine.

"Ancondil? that's an interesting name for an orc," Teresa said, lifting the glass to her lips. The wine was sweet and fruity on her tongue, and she closed her eyes to savor the lovely taste before allowing it to slide down her throat. "I thought most Orisimer names had a 'gra' or a 'gro' in them?"

"They do," the orc said. He had stopped eating when Teresa sat, and now wiped his hands on a small cloth. "Unlike most Orisimer however, I was raised by Altmer. Hence my name."

"Really?" Teresa could not prevent her eyebrows from rising in surprise. "How did that happen?"

"I was orphaned at birth," Ancondil said, lifting the snifter of brandy in one hand and gently cupping it in his thick fingers. Taking the time to roll the glass around, he watched as the dark liquid swished around the wide-bottom of the container. "I was found on the steps of the Chapel of Arkay in Cheydinhal by their healer. Shortly afterward I was adopted by a high elf couple in the Mages Guild. They raised me as if I was their own, quite a testament to Altmer willpower I must say!"

"Oh my goodness!" Teresa nearly gasped. "Me too! Well, except for the chapel, the high elves, and everything else. I am an orphan too that is. I was raised on the streets of the Imperial City by an Imperial woman, Simplicia. They call her 'the Slow' because of how she had stonejoint for a long time."

"By the Nine, now this is quite the turn of luck is it not? That the two of us would meet at this time and place, both so far from our homes?" Ancondil declared, raising his glass in a toast. "Here is to us then, siblings in circumstance if not in blood."

Teresa allowed a faint smile to crest her features once more and raised her glass to meet his. His mention of luck made her remember kissing the statue of the old woman in the street outside. Aia had said her luck was going to change after she did so. Now she wondered if indeed it had.

She found herself liking the Orisimer. The way he spoke so well and looked so dapper in his fine velvet said he was money. Yet unlike other wealthy people he did not come across as being full of himself. Rather he seemed very down to nirn with his easy manner and quick humor.

"You stopped eating?" Teresa noticed, looking at the unfinished food on his plate.

"It would be terribly rude of me to eat before you are served," Ancondil said.

"Oh don't be silly!" Teresa exclaimed, "it will get cold! Go and eat!"

"That would be ungentlemanly to say the least," Ancondil declared. "Perhaps if you share the meal with me? The lamb is quite delicious."

"Oh no, I don't eat meat." Teresa shook her head. "You go ahead until my fish comes. I grew up on the streets, you don't have to impress me!"

"Really? you do not eat meat?" Ancondil asked with a lifted eyebrow. Teresa noted that he still made no motion to continue his meal. "When I saw you earlier at the Fighters Guild I had thought you were a huntress, come straight from the wilds of the Great Forest itself."

"I had," Teresa said, looking down at her hands. The last thing she wanted was for him to remember how she had stormed out of the Fighters Guild. She hoped she was not blushing when she forced her gaze back up to his. "But I am a gatherer, not a hunter."

"Indeed? I have never been able to pass up a good steak myself. Well, to each their own I always say." Ancondil raised his glass once more to her before taking a sip of the dark liquid. "Did your business at the Fighters Guild go well? That is if it would not be too indiscreet to inquire?"

"No," Teresa muttered. She thought about what Aia said, how the guild commander told people to their face that he did not want them. "Well, maybe not. I don't really know. How about yourself? Did you need to hire someone?"

"Oh goodness no!" Ancondil laughed. "I was there to join!"

"You were?" Teresa wondered aloud. "You don't look like someone who would need to work for the Fighters Guild?"

"Well, here is to looks being deceiving." Ancondil raised his glass once more and took a small sip. "In spite of my attire, I assure you I am personally quite destitute. It is my parents who are well-off. I came here to Bravil to make my own fortune. I would starve as a poet or a musician. On the other hand I have always been adept at breaking things."

"Did they accept you?" Teresa asked, stifling the urge to smile at his quip. She remembered her own ordeal to prove herself. What might the guild master have put Ancondil through to show his worth? she wondered.

"Yes indeed." Ancondil said with a smile. "Although I am still sore from the trials their leader inflicted upon me! I sit here before you a proud - albeit probationary - member of the Fighters Guild. At least until my background check is complete."

That caused Teresa's eyebrow to lift again. So the guild commander was doing a check on Ancondil as well, even when it was plain he was a straighter arrow than Hieronymus Lex? Then maybe the Colovian had not been lying after all, she thought, perhaps he did want her for real?

Just then Teresa's lake perch arrived, smothered in butter sauce and sprinkled with basil, and flanked by a small pile of chipped potatoes. Her stomach growled again as she breathed the aroma of the fish deep into her lungs. A moment later she was digging into the meal. She had to force herself not to rush like she usually did when she ate. Instead she took her time and tried to savor every delicious bite, as Nerussa had often chided her to do.

"Life is filled with sensual pleasures Teresa," the Altmer woman had told her once as they basked in the warm afterglow of lovemaking. "Whether it is the taste of a fine wine, a good meal, the warmth of the sun, or the soft skin of your lover under your fingers; take the time to glory in every pleasure life brings you. It is often the simplest things that make living the most delightful."

"So you mentioned being a poet and musician?" Teresa asked between bites of food.

"In my own, very modest way," Ancondil said. She was glad to see that he had started eating once more, now that her own food had arrived. "My lute is upstairs in my room. I would not be so cruel as to torture an entire room filled with people with my playing though. I am really more a fan of each really, rather than a player or writer."

"Oh, I would love to hear," Teresa said. She had never met an orc who liked poetry or music, let alone tried to play or write. Come to think of it, she had never met anyone of any race that did, aside from Nerussa and the street corner musicians in the Market District. Then she took a bite of the deep-fried chips. They were still steaming from the fryer, and she had to gulp down a mouthful of wine to cool her tongue. "Raven that is hot!"

"Careful there, that looks hot!" Ancondil exclaimed, then looked sheepish after the glance Teresa could not help but to shoot him. "I suppose you have discovered that already however…"

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jan 8 2011, 06:07 AM

[Olen]

Agreed on the whole thing about the Night Mother statue, it seemed a bit unlikely. Doing away with it is a good move, it's good to see the setting being changed more fundementally now (certainly deserved given how rich it is).

Interesting back story to Ancondil, a well spoken and mannered orc makes a novel character who is fun to read. I look forwar dto seeing what greater part he plays. Certainly his intelect and demenor go against the norm...

"Raven that is hot!"

I'm not sure I've mentioned before (though I have noticed), having Teresa swear by 'raven' is a good device. It both reinforces her religous beliefs and provides a way round the filters without seeming contrived.

So as ever good, and some wise words from Nerussa.

[Winter Wolf]

What a delighful chapter!!

I would say without question that the concept of Teresa and an Orsimer sitting down together at Bravil and swishing wine and brandy around as the most unlikely that I have ever read on these forums. Yet that is precisely why it works so well and the whole scene works with a clear resonance.

"I would starve as a poet or a musician. On the other hand I have always been adept at breaking things."
This really made me smile.

[Acadian]

To everything wise Wolf of the Winter said - ditto!

'So the guild commander was doing a check on Ancondil as well, even when it was plain he was a straighter arrow than Hieronymus Lex?'
Wonderfully put. The mention of Lex is both setting friendly as well as reminds us of Teresa's familiarity with the Waterfront and seamier side of IC. It also enforces the underlying wisdom that Pappy has earned through hard experience.

'Just then Teresa's lake perch arrived, smothered in butter sauce and sprinkled with basil, and flanked by a small pile of chipped potatoes.'
Oh, you know the way to Acadian's heart so very well! Yum! Based on the sweet, fruity taste, may I presume the wine to be Tamika's? If so, even doubly yummier with awesomesauce!

Teresa's flashback featuring Nerussa was wonderfully effective. It reminds us of why Teresa chose the lake perch. It also is a beautiful memory and perfect accompaniment to a discussion of music and poetry with her delightfully large new green friend!

'Then she took a bite of the deep-fried chips. They were still steaming from the fryer, and she had to gulp down a mouthful of wine to cool her tongue. "Raven that is hot!"
"Careful there, that looks hot!" Ancondil exclaimed, then looked sheepish after the glance Teresa could not help but to shoot him. "I suppose you have discovered that already however…"
This little exchange was perfectly played! I too enjoyed Teresa's use of 'Raven'. I could feel Ancondil mentally slapping himself on the forehead, and smiled at the unspoken flash of temper from 'Red'.

[mALX]

The first screenshot (Chapter 27.1) - is that new hair? It is beautiful! - Uh Oh, that Sappho spouting amorous Orc has noticed her.

Teresa's emotions are on a roller coaster through these last two segments - very realistic portrayal of a teen girl's around her coming of age. I get the feeling Aia will make Teresa very homesick for Simplicia.

Your ability to develop real and interesting characters is a gift, Great Write !!

[D.Foxy]

"Raven, that is hot!!"

And so is Teresa...

[SubRosa]

Olen: Ancondil is a lot of fun to write, because he so goes against conventions. He is probably the only male character I would ever consider playing.

I have been working to replace Teresa's "by Nocturnal!"s with Raven instead. For exactly the reason you stated. Although a "by Mara" still works itself in sometimes.


Winter Wolf: The funny thing - is outward appearances aside - Teresa and Ancondil have much in common. I like writing the two of them together.


Acadian: That would indeed be Tamika's. Thanks to the Blades, Teresa wants nothing else!


mALX: That is her same old hair. It is from the Corean for Original Races mod. Teresa is indeed filled with emotion, and still lacking the maturity to contain it all. That is one of the things that makes her fun to write. But probably not so fun for others to be around!


D.Foxy: Yes, but with a hot temper instead of a hot body!


Next: In our previous segment Teresa sat down to what has turned to be a very pleasant dinner with the very unusual orc Ancondil. Next she finds that he remains full of surprises.


Chapter 27.3 –The Lucky Lady

"So what were you reading?" Teresa asked, looking over at the book that sat on one side of the table. She was going to let those chips cool down before risking another bite.

Oh, that is Drels Alano, of Suran," Ancondil declared. "Dancing With Shadows, it is his most famous collection."

"Oh read me some then," Teresa said. She remembered how lovely it had sounded when Nerussa had recited poetry to her

"Well, if you insist," Ancondil said, then took a sip of brandy to clear his throat before continuing. He did not look at the book, or even touch it. Instead he stared directly into Teresa's eyes and began to speak.

"Was there even a cause too lost,
Ever a cause that was lost too long,
Or that showed with the lapse of time to vain
For the generous tears of youth and song?"

"Oh my, that was lovely," Teresa remarked. "But sad. You said you write your own too?"

"I do take a feeble stab at word-smithing from time to time, but I assure you, it is nothing fit for hearing." Ancondil insisted, lowering his gaze.

"Don't be modest, let me hear," Teresa insisted. "You speak very well. I like hearing your voice."

"Well, if you insist my lady, but only because one so fair as yourself has requested," the Orisimer said with a smile.

"We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without color,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men."

"That was amazing!" Teresa felt the urge to clap. Instead she allowed herself a faint smile as she looked at the man across from her. "You really wrote that?"

"Yes indeed." Ancondil sat up a little straighter, and his eyes sparkled at Teresa's words. "It is not finished yet however, there is more I would like to add. You really enjoyed it though?"

"I have not heard much poetry," Teresa admitted as she took a sip of wine. "But that was some of the best I have. It really is kind of dark though."

"I suppose that is what speaks to me most clearly." Ancondil shrugged. "But enough about me. What of yourself? The wild forester of Cyrodiil? You said you were a gatherer? I could not imagine living out in the wilderness myself. The ride down here from Cheydinhal was enough for me. Thank the Nine for the inns along the road. I am afraid I would not last a night without a hot fire and a glass of brandy!"

"Oh, it is not so bad," Teresa said. "I used to think the forest was daunting too, until I was in it for the first time. Then I found out it was like… coming home for the first time in my life."

"So what brings you in from the wild hinterland then?" the orc asked.

"I still like a hot fire and a glass of Tamika's too," Teresa laughed. "I have a lot of alchemical ingredients I gathered on my way here from the Imperial City that I need to brew and sell too."

"Oh, so you are an alchemist then?" Ancondil looked surprised, and continued with a grin. "I spent some time at the Arcane University myself. I was banned from the alchemy laboratory within my first week in fact. They say it took another week just to get the smell out. I thought I was the worst alchemy student they ever had, but apparently there was a Khajiit even worse than I was…"

"I'm no real alchemist either," Teresa said, thinking of all those plants in Patvir's Guide that she had never heard of before. "I just know how to make a few potions is all. But you are a mage? Shouldn't you be in the Guild of Mages instead of the Fighters?"

"You have probably heard of great magicians such as Galerion the Mystic, Lattia Direnni, or Zurin Arctus?" Ancondil declared grandly. "Well, I am nature's way of balancing out such greatness. I have never had any magical talent whatsoever. Even the simplest light spell is beyond my crude fumbling. To make matters worse, I was born under the sign of the Atronach, so I cannot even regenerate my own magicka. To be honest, I only went to the University because my parents wanted me to. Not that they were thrilled when I was asked to leave due to my abysmal performance…"

"Really?" Teresa said. Even she could cast spells. It was not all that difficult, even without being University-trained. Granted she could only cast them a few times before her magicka was exhausted, and the big spells were completely beyond her. Yet she could still use some magic. "Not even alchemy? That is just mixing things together?"

"Ahh, yes, but as you know, even alchemy requires the directed will of the practitioner in order to draw out the magical properties of the ingredients to create a potion. Otherwise you are just crushing plants." Ancondil explained. "Of course you have those natural alchemists who can just throw things together with apparently no effort at all. But even they are applying their will and focusing it into the symbol of the enchantment. They just do not realize they are doing it. Whenever my will meets anything magical, bad things happen, usually extraordinarily so I might add…"

Teresa furrowed her brow. It took applying will to mix potions? She had never done anything special before. She just picked out the right things, thought about what she wanted to make, and ground them up. Granted, smashing them all down to powder did take effort sometimes, and after hours of doing it she did feel tired and sore, as she did now. But that was just from the physical strain, was it not?

The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully, and Teresa excused herself shortly after finishing her meal. The fish weighed heavily in her belly, and her limbs felt as if they were filled with lead. After all that happened during the day she was exhausted. So much had occurred since she had come to Bravil that it was hard for her to believe that she had only come to the city in the afternoon. All she wanted to do now was sleep.

Ancondil, however, insisted to escort her to her room upstairs, in spite of her protestations. He said as a true gentleman it was his duty. Teresa had no idea what a gentleman's duty was, but was too tired to argue. It was not until she unlocked her door and turned to wish him a good night that she realized that his intentions were not entirely ceremonial after all.

His eyes had a fire in them. The kind she was starting to see more and more often in men looking at her. It was the same burning look Valerius had at the Wawent Inn, or the naked Redguard had in the legion tower. Ancondil wanted to do more than just walk her to her room, even she could see that plainly now.

Suddenly she was keenly aware of the way he towered over her, and how the body underneath all the velvet he wore bulged with muscle. Was he going to be trouble? she wondered as her heart quickened its pace.

"Ancondil, I'm not…" she started to say, but as they so often did, the words deserted her as she stared into his eyes.

"Not interested, is that it?" he finished the sentence for her, his gaze now shrouded in the flickering light of the corridor.

"It's not that I don't like you, I do." Teresa bit her lower lip as she tried to explain. "It's just that…"

"I am an orc, that is it right?" his voice was soft now. Where at dinner his words had been filled with mirth and a quiet sense of self-confidence, now they were bitter ashes.

"No, I don't care about that. I think you are wonderful," she said, hoping he would understand what she had to say. "It's just that you're a man…"

"Yes, and you are a woman," he said dryly, and for a moment Teresa saw the old Ancondil surface again. "I rather noticed both."

"No…" Teresa stammered, trying to muster the courage to say what she must. "I mean that's the problem. You're a man. I don't… feel that way about men. If you were a woman I would love to spend the evening with you, alone."

"Oh." Ancondil blinked. He looked as if a pile of bricks had fallen onto him. "You mean you… Oh my stars! What an oaf you must think I am!"

"No, not at all," Teresa said, feeling relief course through her. "I think you are one of the most amazing men I have ever met. I like being around you. That's the problem. I forget that sometimes men are attracted to me. It's not something that happens very often, believe me! So I guess I don't think about how I act sometimes, or how someone else might take it. It's all my fault really. I'm so sorry I made you think that I was, well, you know…"

"I have been such a fool," Ancondil said, stepping away from her. "Please accept my apologies. I would have never made such an idiot of myself if I had realized."

"I am sorry Ancondil," Teresa said. Now he looked so forlorn that she had to resist the urge to put her arms around him to console him. But even with as little she knew about men, she that would be the worst thing she could do. "If I were to want to be with a man, you would be the one. Believe me, you are the best one I have ever met! It's all my fault."

The orc mumbled something under his breath. The only word that Teresa could hear was 'Sappho', and she had no idea what that might mean. She watched as he retreated down the hallway and out of sight. Then the wood elf sighed and turned back to her door. Men were so complicated! she thought.


Notes- The first poem is Hannibal, by Robert Frost. The second is The Hollow Men, by T.S. Eliot.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jan 9 2011, 04:17 AM

[Olen]

Bravo! Eliot, and The Hollow Men which is my favourite of his works, grossly underrated against The Waste Land. Good inclusion of poetry there, and a good demonstartion of Ancondil's intelect and culture.

I liked how you followed it with:

"So what brings you in from the wild hinterland then?" the orc asked.

which has a certain poetry to it and continues the idea.

He looked as if a pile of bricks had fallen onto him.

That simile is excellent. Very apt, it made me smile. A well written section with the awkwardness of them too. You showed a lot of character in Teresa which doesn't normal get exposed in this part.

even alchemy requires the directed will of the practitioner in order to draw out the magical properties of the ingredients to create a potion

Good bit of worldbuilding, sounds a bit like chemistry...

I shan't quote more lines I liked because it would be copy and pasting most of what is above. A very enjoyable part which showed more character and made a good read.

This post has been edited by Olen: Jan 8 2011, 08:08 PM

[mALX]

Uh, I think I missed the naked Redguard in the tower, how did that happen? Lol.

That could have ended up being a bad scene if Ancondil had not been the gentleman and backed down (albeit disgruntled). Hopefully Teresa learned a hard lesson the easy way - not to let gentlemen walk her to her room unless they are punier than her skinny red-headed elf self - situations like that could have ended a lot differently. Another great chapter!

[Grits]

Where at dinner his words had been filled with mirth and a quiet sense of self-confidence, now they were bitter ashes.

and then

"No…" Teresa stammered, trying to muster the courage to say what she must.

I am very impressed with Teresa. It would have been so easy for her to let Ancondil just walk away thinking the wrong thing, but she showed him compassion at the expense of her own comfort. What a day for her!!

[hazmick]

I have missed a couple of great chapters. An Altmer in an orc's body? Brilliant! That very same Mer getting the wrong end of ths stick? Bravo! Teresa being kind to the soul she has just crushed? Inspired! Hazmick running out of words?...Yes! Some beautiful poetry (and food) selections as well. Awesome write!

[Jacki Dice]

Men were so complicated! she thought.

So very true! Just as complicated as women sometimes! -huff-

Poor Ancondil though. I'd feel just as discouraged and embarrassed if I were in his place! At least he was gentlemanly about it

[Acadian]

For mALX's question regarding the naked Redguard. *Acadian raises his hand* I recall that happened when Teresa went to the watch tower to visit the recuperating Vols after his massive injuries that happened in Jensine's store. The cheeky Redguard said to Teresa, "See something you like?"


This episode was full of wonderful interaction. You painted both characters so well here. I'm very proud of Teresa.

"So what brings you in from the wild hinterland then?" the orc asked.
"I still like a hot fire and a glass of Tamika's too," Teresa laughed.
Perfectly aligned priorities, Teresa! Add a hot bath and we're there!

'Men were so complicated! she thought.'
Only to young wood nymphs it seems.


'but apparently there was Khajiit even worse than I was…"
Question: Is this a reference to our fiery, furry mage, Maxical?
Nit? Did you perhaps mean a Khajiit? I considered whether you meant numerous Khajiit (my stylesheet uses Khajiit for both the singular and plural), but if you meant multiple Khajiit, I might have expected a 'were' instead of a 'was'. I'm not positive if my concern is legit or simply misunderstanding. Regardless, offered for your consideration.

[D.Foxy]

"Oh." Ancondil blinked. He looked as if a pile of bricks had fallen onto him. "You mean you… Oh my stars! What an oaf you must think I am!"


Ah, it is true....when one is a sexual minority - of the gay type - in a straight majority world and culture, then misunderstandings like these frequently happen...and just to make things more complicated, there is also the question of race too...

That 'pile of bricks' moment has hit us all at one time or another in life!

[Linara]

Finally caught up, and man did I miss a lot. I like Teresa's description of Bravil, instead of the shambling, addict populated ruin I see when I go there. Makes it seem more hopeful.

So Teresa is giving the FG a try, is she? Well this is slightly unusual...It seems Pappy will be a hard taskmaster, if the last couple of chapters are any indication.

Poor Ancondil! If orcs blushed - maybe they do- he would have been beet-red.

[SubRosa]

All: I have always kept track of the passage of months and days in my notes. I try to work the current date into my writing where it would feel natural, but often that is not possible. So I went back and started posting the dates each chapter takes place in, in the first post of the chapter.


Olen: The Hollow Men has always been my favorite of Eliots. The Waste Land never did anything for me.

The description of alchemy is part of a larger overall view of the inner-workings of magic that I am espousing. That will be explained fully in chapter 30, when one of the characters gets a magic lesson.


mALX: Acadian's naked Redguard is the one Teresa was thinking of. It goes pretty far back. Teresa is indeed lucky that Ancondil was willing to take no for an answer. Many men would not.


Grits: It has indeed been a huge day for Teresa. The next day (starting with this post) will be even bigger!


hazmick: Ancondil was one of my more original creations. I wanted the members of the new Bravil FG to really stand out and be memorable. Of them all, he probably stands out the most.


Jacki Dice: Poor Ancondil indeed. It is not easy being a man around Teresa!


Acadian: A 'cheeky' Redguard indeed!

One hot bath definitely coming up! Teresa has her priorities straight!

I did indeed mean a Khajiit. Thank you for wrangling it back into the herd of other cats for me.


D.Foxy: Life is indeed full of those awkward moments of crossed attractions when you are in the sexual minority. Rest assured, Teresa will find out how it feels on the other side soon enough!


Linara: Good to see you back again Lin. My vision of Bravil is indeed a bit different from the slant the game puts on it. But hopefully the frontier town that is a bit down on its luck works better than the simple slum town. It is a strange thing for Teresa to be joining the FG, especially considering her past. But it is her past that has driven her to join. In the coming chapters we will see just how she will benefit from the association.


Next: Teresa's dinner with Ancondil did not turn out how she had expected, but luckily she avoided misfortune because of it. Next we find her waking up bright and early the next morning, and paying a visit to the other guild in the city.

Chapter 27.4 –The Lucky Lady

Teresa was awake and out the door of her room shortly after dawn. It felt strange being up and about at such an early hour. Usually she was just going to bed as the sun came up, not rising with it! But as she walked down the stairs to the first floor of the inn, she felt strangely invigorated. Well, she had probably slept for ten hours straight, she imagined that she ought to feel refreshed!

The smell of frying eggs and bacon assaulted her nostrils as she entered the common room, destroying whatever appetite she might have had. A few of the other patrons were there ahead of her and already eating breakfast. When the waitress asked if she would like some she could only shake her head as she made her way to the door. The idea of eating anything so soon after waking made her feel queasy, that it was meat only made it all the worse.

Carrying a bag of potions in one hand and another sack full of ingredients in the other, she stepped out onto Silver Avenue. She passed the brooding edifice of the Fighters Guild, and once more wondered what she should think about her experience there the other day. Did their commander really want her after all? Even if he had, would he still want her after she had stormed out with her eyes filled with tears?

She sighed and looked away. She had other things to think about. She had potions to sell, more bottles to buy, and far more to mix up with the ingredients she had left in her room. Then she needed to buy some real clothing, so she would not have to walk around the city wearing armor all the time. Maybe something velvet this time, she thought, or something with lace…

The main street ended at the branch of the river that she had seen running into the city the previous day. It split into two directly in front of her like a sideways "Y", creating three separate islands upon which Bravil stood. One branch of the river continued to her left, toward the rising sun, and disappeared through a submerged portcullis in the city walls. The other, wider leg of the river turned at a right angle and flowed straight away from her. It ran though a break in the city wall that was wide enough for a galleon to easy pass through, and emptied out into the bay south of the city.

On the wedge of land between the two branches of the river to Teresa's left rose several rows of stone manors. Each was easily three stories high, and many bore towers that extended their height. Looming up behind them was a castle, draped with rust-colored banners of the same back-facing deer that the city guard wore on their surcoats. A sturdy wooden bridge spanned the water to her left, connecting the castle island to that upon which she stood. Like the bridge at the main gate, it was wide enough for a pair of wagons to ride abreast, and clearly built to last.

The third island lay across the river to her right, and was filled with more stone and wood houses. She could see the high walls of the city rising in the distance behind them. One shop along the far riverbank caught her eye. Its wooden sign sported a pair of crossed arrows and had The Archer's Paradox written across it. Teresa made a mental note to go and investigate that later in the day.

The ground dove steeply in front of her to meet the water. Several sets of stairs cut along its length, leading to a long row of docks stretching the entire length of the inner river. She saw a few small fishing boats tied up to shore, but most of the slips were empty.

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There was one large ship however, one of the big sea-faring craft that she had often seen on the docks of the Imperial City. As she gazed down she could see the Redguards of its crew unloading crates onto the dock, while locals carried them up the stairs and began loading them onto wagons and carts on the street where Teresa walked.

Remembering the directions the guardsman had given her the day before, Teresa made her way west along Riverwalk. The street here was still paved in stone, but she could see that it turned to hard-packed dirt as soon as it moved away from the water's edge. Among the warehouses that dotted the shore she passed a shop called The Warlock's Luck. She was tempted to stop and go in. Yet it looked more like a spellcaster's store than an alchemist's, so she continued down the thoroughfare.

She passed a small chapel of Kynareth next. The stained glass window at the front of the stone building showed the goddess with a fish leaping from one of her hands, and a gust of wind emanating from the other. Clearly, the Bravilians were less interested in her role of goddess of all wild animals in general, and more with that of fish in particular. Not to mention her dominion over the weather. She was not surprised, as she had seen the same in the chapel on the Waterfront of the Imperial City. People seemed to see the gods in whatever way was most convenient for them.

Coming to another bridge that spanned the river to the third island, she found the city wall rose in its circuit not far beyond. Sitting on the bank of the river beside the wall was a high manor house. A great stained glass window colored to look like an eight-petaled flower was perched in the center of the second floor, and she knew that she had found the Mages Guild.

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She found the door was unlocked as she tried the handle, and let herself in. A short hallway led to a wide open foyer, surrounded by other chambers in all directions. The great eye symbol of the guild was painted on the hardwood floor beneath her feet, this time decorated with magical runes. The walls were hung with soft hangings of velvet and silk, and the room was populated with bookcases, cushioned benches, plants, and several decorative urns. The light of the morning sun spilled through the open windows behind her, augmented by a chandelier lit not by candles, but rather by glowing crystals of the like she had often seen in Ayleid ruins.

"Good morning!" came the perky voice of a Breton. Turning to her left, Teresa saw a woman with brown hair tied back in a single braid walking down a stairway to the ground floor. She was dressed in blue velvet, and her eyes sparkled as they set upon Teresa. "I am Delphine Jend, Master of Destruction. How can the Guild of Mages help you today?"

"Umm, good morning, I'm Teresa" the wood elf said. She guessed that the Breton was in her late thirties, given the lines just beginning to form on her features. Yet she could not take her eyes off the dress that she wore. Its velvet shimmered in the light, looking delightfully soft and warm. She had to resist the urge to reach out and run her fingers across its smooth surface.

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"What a lovely dress that is," Teresa found herself saying, suddenly feeling self-conscious in her leather cuirass. "Wherever did you get it?"

"Oh you like it?" the Breton fairly pranced in front of Teresa, and now the wood elf noticed the delicate lace patterns set within the velvet, and the stitching of cloth of gold that encircled its sleeves and waist. Then her eyes lit upon the sapphires that glittered in the Breton's ears, and the shining gold of her necklace. "It is something I picked up at Palonirya's the last time I was in the Imperial City."

"It's beautiful, you're beautiful," Teresa breathed, feeling a pang of envy rising within her. By Dibella, this was what a woman was supposed to look like, she thought. All soft and curvy, decked out in brilliant jewels and shimmering velvet. On the other hand she was all stringy whipcord and bone, and dressed head to toe in leather.

"Oh my, you are quite the flatterer aren't you, what did you say your name was, Teresa?" The Breton grinned and took the wood elf gently by the arm and lead her toward one of the side chambers. "You must be new here in Bravil. I am sure I would have recognized you if I had seen you before, what with that lovely hair and skin-tight leather. You must have to beat the men off with a stick!"

"Umm, that's not usually a problem…" She thought about Ancondil the night before as soon as the words slipped from her mouth. He had certainly liked something! she thought. Teresa felt her cheeks begin to warm as the other woman led her into what looked like a dining room and motioned her to sit while she busied herself with a silver tea service.

"I will just make us a cup of tea to get the morning started, and we can sit and talk," the Breton said over her shoulder as she lifted the top of the teapot. Pointing her finger within, a wisp of flame short forth, and a moment later steam was rising from the innards of the container. The mage turned to Teresa and smiled. "Heating water is one of the many advantages of being a battlemage."

"You don't have to do that," Teresa offered as the other woman brought over the tea and poured them a pair of cups. "I only came here to sell some potions, and buy some bottles…"

"Then you will need to speak with Ardaline," the Breton explained, pushing a delicate cup filled with brown fluid toward the Bosmer. "She runs the alchemical storefront."

Teresa lifted the porcelain cup to her lips and took a sip. She had to stifle the urge to wince at the bitterness of the tea, let alone its heat. Yet the Breton woman looked so expectantly at her that she had to nod and force a smile to her lips. "Oh, that is good." Teresa lied, "but maybe a little hot."

"Good tea is supposed to be hot," the Breton proclaimed as she lifted her cup to her lips and drank nearly half its contents in one gulp. How she could manage that without screaming was beyond Teresa, but the magician looked content as she went on. "Nothing like a good spot of tea to get the blood flowing I always say!"

Teresa risked another sip of the sharp liquid, and once again fought the urge to make a face. She had never tasted anything so harsh. How could anyone like this? she wondered. She would rather have goat's milk any day!

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Feb 13 2011, 05:29 AM

[Olen]

Hmm I can only agree on black tea, now put the milk into it and it's a different story

I enjoyed that though, it's a nice touch of realism having a character make horribly strong tea which might have been a bit out of place in other stories but fit's beutifully with the character realism of this one. It also gives some idea of what sort of woman Delphine Jend is, anyone who calls a spell Enemies Explode almost has to drink stong tea.

"It's beautiful, you're beautiful," Teresa breathed ...
...I would have recognized you if I had seen you before, what with that lovely hair and skin-tight leather.

I liekd each of them envying the other. More realism and it shows a side to Teresa which has been increasingly hidden. She is still quite insecure and self-critical for all the improvments she's made and fails to see her own strengths as they improve.

[Cardboard Box]

Hmm I can only agree on black tea, now put the milk into it and it's a different story

I enjoyed that though, it's a nice touch of realism having a character make horribly strong tea which might have been a bit out of place in other stories but fit's beutifully with the character realism of this one. It also gives some idea of what sort of woman Delphine Jend is, anyone who calls a spell Enemies Explode almost has to drink stong tea.

Just keep her away from coffee and the guild should be safe...