Okay, here we go:

Beginning with Chapter 25.2, Teresa’s meeting with Carandial was an enjoyable interlude before her entry into Bravil. Between Carandial, Elante of Alinor, Irlav Jarol’s Mages Guild expedition, and several orc adventurers those ruins are starting to get mighty crowded. Good thing there are a lot of them.

One of the things that I have always enjoyed about your work is that your description always trumps the screenshot that you provide. I don’t know if that has ever been better illustrated than in your description of Bravil’s main gate, the surrounding countryside, and Marius Helvius standing watch near the bridge.

So the Globe Theatre is in Bravil? Will we see a performance of The Lusty Argonian Maid by the Lord Chamberlain’s Men?

And is it any wonder that Teresa would spend her first moments in Bravil befriending Wretched Aia?

*Okay, if I keep stopping to comment then this post will be as long as the TF by the time I catch up. I’ll try to control myself . . . but no promises.*

After Teresa pauses on the threshold, she makes the fateful decision to go inside the Bravil Fighters Guild. I love the fact that she remains unconvinced that she is doing the right thing. And I agree with Acadian, the wanted posters are (and were) an excellent idea.


Tell Tadrose that if she wants to see some female posturing, she should just travel down to Anvil!

Vigdis and Huurwen’s skills are highly overrated, and not worth the gold spent training with them. Llensi won’t train you at all, even though she is supposed to!

Hooray for the return of Pappy to the TF!!! The screenshot of Robert Conrad almost knocked me from my chair with laughter. If memory serves we haven’t seen him (Pappy, not Jim West) and Tadrose since they were perforating Dremora up in Bravil. Now we’ve got Pappy training the star-crossed Aleron Locke. Hopefully Pappy’s training does more for him in the TF than the fate he is consigned to in the game. The atmosphere inside the guildhall perfectly fits the sense of melancholy and loss that we know the Bravil guild has suffered.

I also liked how you changed Teresa’s first interview with Pappy. I seem to remember Teresa storming out the door in version 1.0. I daresay that Teresa has softened that hard-line a bit. Then again maybe her storming out comes later, and if so I am going to feel like an idiot typing this now. Ah, what the hell! It’s 3 in the morning where I am so I think I can be indulged a few premature assumptions.

And of course it takes me a mere two posts to get to the part where Teresa’s rage makes her storm out of the guild! I knew I should have kept my big mouth shut! Of course the good news is that she passes my favorite orc rapscallion on the way out the door! I’ve missed Ancondil.

*BTW, why do you and mALX feel this need to pretty-up the orcs? Personally, I like them much better with the snouts.*


Uh . . . woman!

Uh . . . human!

I also remember that Ancondil is the T.S. Eliot of the TF universe. It is nice to be reminded again.

It also seems to me that a certain Khajiit has a flair for ineptitude that has made her famous (or is that notorious?) over several threads. Here’s hoping that Maxical and Ancondil never put their heads together over a mortar and pestle. The resulting explosion would probably level all of Tamriel!

Wonder of wonders!! Lattia’s name is mentioned in the company of Galerion and Arctus! I think I can speak for her when she says that she is flabbergasted and flattered, albeit undeserving. I think that she and Teresa share a becoming modesty. That leaves it to others to comment on their greatness.

I just loved the way that Teresa learned something new about herself and the art of alchemy through her conversation with Ancondil.



No we aren’t! Chris Rock distilled us down to our essence in three words: “Food! Sex! Silence!”

It seems that Teresa has encountered a kindred spirit in Ardaline. Isn’t it just like our modest bosmer to fall flat on her face while trying to dodge a compliment? Incoming!!

I also liked the way that Teresa found herself on the other end of the conversation so soon after gently deflecting the orc’s advances. What’s good for the goose . . .

Oh, and I didn’t know that barbarians wrote regional alchemy guides. Grognak?

Well, that’s it for now. I am about halfway caught up. I can’t wait to read Chapter 31!

haute ecole rider: I wish I could get the companions to be useful in the game as well. But the sad truth is that you are better off alone, or with a summons. They actually do work better in Fallout 3.


Grits: Those zombies are only a few days old, so they had to be easily recognizable. Besides, it only brings home the threat faced by Teresa and Chance. They could easily end up the same...


Thomas Kaira; Actually only left 2 dead. I guess it is a prequel.

Funny you should say that about Chance, because writing these last two chapters with him has not only brought him to life in my mind, but also made him a much more likeable character than I had originally pictured.


Acadian: This chapter really showcases everything that Teresa has learned from her time in the FG. Plus how handy a mother who is not afraid to blackmail people is!


Destri Melarg Rides Again: I hope you do not mind me borrowing Lattia's name. I wanted to throw around a few names of famous and powerful magicians, and aside from Galerion and Mannimarco, there are not that many in the lore (who are not also gods at least). If you liked Lattia (Miss I won't summon the Daedra Lord to Nirn, but instead go to his realm to talk to him) just wait until you get to chapter 31! We will be seeing exactly what is playing the Globe in chapter 31 as well. Perhaps Teresa will too, maybe even Tadrose?

I like orcs better without the snouts. Mainly because they hide the uniqueness of their faces. It is just the first thing you see when you look at them. I find it much easier to make a distinctive orc with the regular bone structure. Not to mention a more pleasing one...

The essence of men in three words? That is one too many!

I went with Grognak for the alchemy-guide guy simply because that is usually reserved for a snooty elf person. Rough and tumble barbarian explorers deserve some props too. Besides, who better to know the plants of the wilderness than someone who lives there?


Next: In our previous episode Teresa and Chance delved into the upper reaches of Culotte. Next, they make their way rock-bottom in the exciting conclusion of chapter 32.


Chapter 32.3 - Culotte

As before, Teresa led the way deeper into the ruin. The passage through the hall and its bisecting corridors was silent and uneventful. At the end Teresa found that the last side corridor did not stop after a dozen paces, as the others did. Instead she could see that it opened up into a much larger chamber.

Teresa slinked forward, and soon discovered that the corridor became a raised gallery that ran through the middle of a great vault. A lattice of rusted metal cast in the form of curling vines closed off the walkway at either side. Looking below, the wood elf saw rows of stone biers lining the floor to either side of the gallery.

Screenshot

Laying atop each was a skeleton. Whatever clothing or armor they had once worn had long since rotted to dust. Yet the long, double-edged swords which they clutched looked quite serviceable. With vine-etched blades that thinned in the center, then widened again at the tip, Teresa imagined that they were made for chopping, rather than stabbing. The hilts of the weapons were white as ivory, and seemed to be formed in the image of a hawk, with outstretched wings forming the crossbar, a feathered body creating the grip, and finally a pair of taloned feet holding a shining globe making the pommel.

Teresa stared at the skeletons. Did one of them move? she wondered. Or was it just her imagination? She waited there on the gallery, listening for the rattle of bones, the scuffle of walking feet, or the clink of a sword against stone. Yet the only sound that came to her ears was that of Chance's breathing behind her.

Moving forward again, she found that the side lattices opened up in the center of the chamber. Looking down, she saw that the gallery actually became a bridge at that point, joining both halves of the chamber below with a small corridor beneath her feet. Stepping lightly across the stones, she continued down the gallery without a sound.

She was nearly to the end of the upraised walkway when she heard the ominous rumbling of stone behind her. Whirling around, she saw Chance fighting for balance on the bridge. Long cracks had appeared through its stone surface, and as Teresa watched, fist-sized pieces of it broke free and plunged to the floor below.

The forester raced back the way she had come, knowing that she would be too late to help the Redguard. She watched helplessly as he wavered on the collapsing stone, then breathed a sigh of relief as he regained his balance just in time to leap forward. His armored feet came to rest on solid stone just as the remainder of the bridge crashed to the ground behind him. A cloud of dust rose in the air, and the Redguard brushed it off as Teresa came to a stop before him.

"Guess I ought to lose some weight," he said with a wink and a grin.

Screenshot

That brought a faint smile to Teresa's lips. Glancing to either side, she saw that the skeletons remained still in their resting places, adding to her relief. Surely even the dead could not have slept through that! Now confident that the bodies would not get up and attack, she turned and once again led the way deeper into Culotte.

The gallery ended with another stair that led down and curled back. A moment later Teresa found herself on the floor of the great burial chamber, with the stone gallery rising up to her left. From her lower vantage point, she could see that except for the broken bridge, the rest of the walkway was supported by solid stone. Looking to the end of the room, she saw a doorway yawning open there and stepped toward it. Chance clanked into the room behind her, and his voice split the gloom.

"Hey, what's that glowing over there?"

Teresa turned to follow where he pointed with Ncharcasti, but saw nothing in the grey world of night eye. She wondered if the Redguard was seeing things, then remembered her goggles. They blinded her to most color. Sliding them up from her eyes, she instantly saw a faint purple glow coming from between two of the stone biers deeper in the room.

Teresa readied an arrow, and stepped forward toward the light. Coming around one of the rows of biers, she found that the author of the glow was a metal statuette. It had four spines that rose from a wide, circular base. These were linked by horizontal bars in the center, meeting at a slender purple crystal. The gemstone swirled with energy, and lent its glow to the surrounding room.

An Ancestor Statue!

Screenshot

"What in Ruptga's name is that?" she heard Chance breathe behind her.

"That my friend, is one hundred gold septims," Teresa smiled. Walking forward to the statue, she stopped just a few feet short when she realized that she was standing in a pool of dried blood. Looking down, she found a dismembered arm laying on the floor. It was sheathed in leather, and ended in a furred hand whose fingers bore short, hooked claws.

"I found the rest of the Khajiit." Teresa wrinkled her nose at the grisly sight, not to mention the smell.

Chance stepped up beside her. "So if it lost its arm down here, how did the rest of it wind up topside?"

"Maybe it lost the arm down here, ran, and died up there?" Teresa wondered. "Or maybe it died down here, then wandered up there afterward?"

The forester shrugged. Who could say what ran through the minds of the undead? All that mattered was that she had found another of Umbacano's statues. More importantly, she was now one step closer to making Simplicia's dream of a home in the country coming true.

"How much did you say that thing is worth?" Chance asked as Teresa lifted the Ancestor in her hands. The metal of the statue was cold as the grave, and filled the wood elf's body with its chill the moment she touched it. She quickly tucked it into the Thieves Bag at her hip, and was thankful when the coldness subsided.

"One hundred septims," Teresa said. "That's a thousand drakes. After the guild gets its cut, that leaves four hundred drakes for both of us."

"Damn!" the Redguard grinned. "We're rich!"

The sound of rattling bones deflated his smile however, and the Redguard turned in time to see a skeleton rising from the bier beside him, sword in hand. The monster set its feet on the floor and raised its sword. But Chance was quicker, and his mace drove down through its skull and shattered its breastbone. The remnants of the skeleton fell into a heap of bones on the floor.

"They're all getting up!" Teresa gasped, looking at the rising army of dead all around them. "Quick, run for it!"

She took a moment to tuck her strung bow into her Thieves Bag. Then something hit her hard in her side, and the yellow light of her shield enchantment flashed in the darkness. Pain flared through her chest, brilliant and hot. The feeling reminded of her when she was too slow in dagger practice, and Pappy connected with his wooden sword. Only this was much harder than the Colovian had ever struck her.

Looking down with a wince, she saw one of the hourglass-shaped elven blades pulling back from her torso. Its steel gleamed in the dim light. Without her goggles on, Teresa could see it was a soft red in color. She knew that meant Destruction magic, thanks to Pappy.

Relief flooded through her like the Niben when she saw that her leather armor was still intact where the sword had hit her. She thanked her shield potion for that. Without it she doubted the leather would have stopped a sword. But with it, she was armored as strongly as if wearing plate. Still, her side ached where the blade had struck her, and she hoped that none of her ribs were broken.

Looking up to the skeleton that clutched the sword, she acted out of reflex drilled into her from Pappy's training sessions. Leaning in closer, she thrust her right hand against the skeleton's breastbone. Concentrating on the image of Burning Hand, she unleashed an explosion of flame into the monster. It collapsed in a heap of blackened bones, and Teresa turned to race for the stair.

She heard Chance utter a long, eerie war cry behind her. It was a strange sound, rising and falling in pitch, and sent a shiver down her spine. "Alale!" was the nearest she could put it to words. Following it came the sound of his Dwemer mace shattering more of the monsters.

Drawing her dagger in her left hand, Teresa fumbled for a healing potion with her right. She guzzled its contents, and tossed the bottle aside. Cool energy washed through her body like a cleansing river, and took the pain away with it.

Turning to the entrance, she found her way blocked by two of the skeletons. They crowded one another however, and Teresa found it relatively easy to leap onto a bier beside them without being hit by their blades. They tried to turn to face her, but again, got in one another's way. The forester hopped down behind them and thrust her hand into one of their backbones. Fire burst from her fingers, and once more a skeleton dropped to the floor.

Teresa thanked Raven that they did not have the resiliency of zombies. Otherwise she and Chance would never have a chance. Even as it was, she knew that they had to get out of the ruin before the skeletons overwhelmed them with sheer numbers.

Now that its brother had been destroyed, the other skeleton was now able to turn. It brought its sword down at Teresa's head. She reacted without thinking. Stepping to her right, she raised her parrying dagger in her left hand. The skeleton's sword caught between her dagger's mithril blade and curving crossbar. Rather than trying to stop the blow directly, the forester instead pushed it away to her left. At the same time she stepped forward. Now breast to breast with the skeleton, she put her hand against its chest and burned it to a cinder.

She blinked, and stared down at the remnants of the undead at her feet. She had just killed three skeletons, in hand-to-hand combat! Her worst nightmare, and she had overcome it, three times!

"Come on!" Chance's shout tore her from her reverie. The Redguard stood before Teresa, eyes aglow with excitement. He moved quickly for a man in full armor, and pushed her toward the exit. Teresa's feet sprang into motion. Once again another of the skeletons blocked her path, and she dove onto the bier beside it. Sliding headfirst across the catafalque, she fell to the floor in a nimble roll and sprang to her feet on the other side. She turned to dispatch the skeleton with her spell, but Chance smashed it to bits with Ncharcasti first.

A skeleton's blade came down upon his back then, and the Redguard staggered. He remained on his feet however, and pushed himself forward, away from the undead gathering behind him. Teresa turned away, and once more sprang to the door. Again she was forced to use her dagger to deflect an oncoming sword, and her Burning Hand felled the monster that held it.

Thank Raven for the star well outside, she thought as her feet hit the stairs. Without it she would have completely drained her magicka after just two uses of the spell. Yet thanks to the fountain of energy, she still felt more of the power sizzling under her fingers.

She paused on the steps and moved to one side. Chance came up a moment later, a skeleton just seconds behind. He raced into the passage leading up, and Teresa leaned out to place her hand against his pursuer's chest. Once more flame erupted in the gloom, and the skeleton collapsed in a heap.

Looking up from the shattered monster, she saw that the chamber behind it was teeming with more of the monsters. There was literally a small army of them, and all of them were now staring at her with murder in the empty sockets where eyes had once shone.

That was all the prompting Teresa needed to turn and flee up the curving stair. She quickly caught up to Chance, and passed him before they came to the collapsed bridge. She did not hesitate as she planted one foot at the edge of the gap, and leaped out into space. For a moment she hung in the air. Then solid stone was once more under her feet, and she rolled to a halt at the far side of the bridge.

Springing back to her feet, she found Chance just a few paces behind her. With less nimbleness than she had shown, the Redguard jumped forward. Yet his armor weighed him down, and the wood elf feared he would plummet to a certain doom in the skeleton-filled chamber below. His leading foot landed upon the edge, and for a moment he tottered there in space. She reached out and caught hold of one of his arms. Pulling with all of the weight of her body, the two of them collapsed onto the gallery floor in a heap of leather and steel.

"I know you can't resist me!" Chance winked as he pushed himself to his feet, "but let's wait until we get outside."

Teresa wanted to say something equally witty. Yet as it often did, her tongue had become a stone in her mouth. Rising to her feet beside the Redguard, she looked back with him to see the first of the skeletons reach the broken bridge. It stopped just in time to keep from going over the edge. Then the undead behind ran into it, shoving it out into space, only to crash to the floor of the main chamber below.

Teresa would have laughed, if not for the fact she might still die at any moment. She turned and raced for the exit, the noise of Chance's armor loud in her ears behind her. Yet no more undead threatened them on the way out, and after long minutes they reached the surface, and stood once more under the light of the afternoon sun.

"Whew!" Chance exclaimed between gasps for breath. "You certainly know how to show a man a good time! Next time I think we should try the theater instead though."

Teresa did chuckle then, and felt the familiar post-combat tremble come over her limbs. She found that while she was winded, she did not have to gulp for air as Chance did. Still, her brow was beaded with sweat, as were the palms of her hands beneath her leather gloves.

"Let me see your back." Teresa bit her lip, thinking of the sword blow that she had seen fall there. But when the Redguard dutifully turned, she found that his armor merely bore a slight dent, without a sign of blood. A surge of relief flooded through her. If he had been killed for her sake…

That reminded her of something Pappy had said during one of their training sessions. "Never hack away at plate armor. All you'll get is a dull blade. Always use the point, and then only in a joint between pieces." She thanked Raven that the skeletons did not have as good a teacher as the Colovian guild commander.

"We should go back inside, and finish them," Chance said, turning to the open doors behind them. "There's none in the upper chambers. You can just pick them off from the bridge."

"We don't know that for sure." Teresa shook her head. "We never saw where that last doorway went to. It might lead to a hidden door in the upper halls. They could come out of that and surround us. Remember Pappy's Rule Number Three: Don't push your luck after you've won."

"But there might be a necromancer down there." Chance's hand tightened on the grip of Ncharcasti. "Maybe the same one who…"

Killed your father, Teresa thought as the Redguard's words trailed off. "If there is, that's all the more reason for us not to go back. Then we'd be facing magic as well as an army of skeletons. But I don't think there is one. We'd have seen them during the fight. At least by the end."

"So then what made all those undead down there?" Chance waved his bronze mace in the direction of the open double doors. "They didn't just get that way on their own."

"I don't know," Teresa said. "I've found undead in other Arimer sites, with no one around to create them. Some folk say that if you die in one of these ruins, you're doomed to become one of its guardians. Let's just get out of here in case they do find another way up here."

With that Teresa turned and made her way to the shore. After long moments she heard the clanking of Chance's armor behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief. She had not been sure if the young man would follow her, or try to go back into the tomb on his own.

"Thank you for coming with me Chance." She turned to the Redguard as she stepped up to the lapping waves of the Niben. Waving to Aleron, the pair waited as the Breton rowed his boat to the riverbank. Teresa saw the arming sword the previous adventurers had discarded, and picked it up. "I never would have made it without you."

"Hey, I'm in the Fighters Guild. It's all in a day's work ma'am." The Redguard smiled and made a mock bow. Then he winked. "Now about that statue…"

"I have a buyer in the Imperial City," Teresa explained as the dory reached the strand. She hefted the sword in her hand and looked at the Breton manning the oars. "This has got to be worth two hundred drakes. I'm sure Aleron won't mind taking us back in return for it. Would you Aleron?"

Wooo, lots of parts. And all brilliant. Sorry for the lack of reading, RL tried to eat me.

Seeing Simplicia again was great, she's a good character in the middle of this but we keep seeing more of her. She keeps developing, and Teresa's horror at the blackmail was hilarious:


That pretty much sums her up. But she doesn't seem particularly worried about Teresa joining the fighter's guild, if fact she seems far keener that Teresa finds a man. It fits with her character so well and Teresa's exasperated silence says a lot.

Her not having time to meet Methy, Vols, Nerussa et al was a good touch, with her also looking forward to returning to Bravil. It shows how her guildmates are becoming as close as the Imperial City people and that she thinks of Tadrose in the same thought as Nerussa... well...

Then the contrast into chapter 32 which was a mixture itself. The sadness with them finding the skeleton turned into tension and anger neatly. You built the tension well with the couple of zombies and then paid it off with a great fight. the skeletons was the best fight scene yet I'd say, having two of them there worked very well.


I loved this line, funny and a good eyeball kicker.

Chance's desire to go back in was in character, if not quite sane. Still it's amazing what the promise of money will do. And now I suspect more grumblings from Aleron and perhaps a meeting with Methy? And then back to Bravil and a certain person?

Cue the Raiders of the Lost Ark march!

And the subsequent scene was right out of the best of the Raiders series. I quite enjoyed it, and liked how Teresa got in close and used her Burning Hand on these skellies. It must be quite strong, since the fire spell Julian is currently using doesn't seem to faze them much. Of course, she just faced off with the four Blades in Sancre Tor, and they are admittedly stronger - much stronger - than the standard skeleton.

What a lovely second bookend this is to Chance's previous comment!

And now back to Imperial City and our dear Umbacano, right?

This was fabulously heart-pounding! Another statue, and another step closer to that home! That Thieves Bag continues to be a blessing from Mara Simplicia.

'She had just killed three skeletons, in hand-to-hand combat! Her worst nightmare, and she had overcome it, three times!'
What a wonderful job Teresa did with her dagger blocking and using her burning hand spell. Thanks, Pappy! It feels good to face and overcome those nightmares.

'Rising to her feet beside the Redguard, she looked back with him to see the first of the skeletons reach the broken bridge. It stopped just in time to keep from going over the edge. Then the undead behind ran into it, shoving it out into space, only to crash to the floor of the main chamber below.'
What a magic moment this was! Perfect!

I think it was so neat that Teresa decided to call it a day at Culotte without insisting on clearing the whole thing, for exactly the reasons she quoted to Chance. Speaking of Chance, he certainly did a great job and I know Teresa was very glad he came along.

Mmm, dungeon diving in Culotte. It has literally been years since I have paid a visit to that crypt. The Upper Niben is a place I rarely travel to for some reason, especially the right hand side. I must take my lastest character (Salacious) across to there and check it out....

You certainly love the undead, dont you? But it is with good measure, of course, they are heaps of fun and allow plenty of action and atmosphere. The ending was lovely, with the calm reasoning of Teresa winning the day!

Cool energy washed through her body like cleansing river.
You always have a lovely way to describe the healing potions. This is another gem.

Looks like Chance is starting to come out of his father's shadow. He's performing well as a team player, and not looking over his shoulder all the time. Perhaps the confirmation that he's dead has taken off the weight, as well as giving him a purpose. He just has to avoid it becoming an obsession.

Teresa's getting some confidence in her trained-in techniques, too. Let's hope she also knows what works against the next ones.

Culotte's a nice simple dungeon, and I like the way it all breaks loose on the way out - even if I don't like the fact it's always those Dread Zombies when I do it, and usually just before I have a Cure Disease spell to counteract the Astral Vapors!

minor nit in the same bit Winter Wolf quoted
Cool energy washed through her body like {a} cleansing river.

I love this episode!! Waiting with Teresa for the skeletons to move, chilling! The swords sound beautiful.

Who could say what ran through the minds of the undead?

Maggots, maybe? Though I suppose they wouldn’t be running.

Stunning acrobatics from Teresa, and Chance managed to keep clanking along with her! Teetering on the edge of the collapsed bridge was particularly exciting. It was fun to watch Chance with his new mace, and even more so to watch Teresa’s Burning Hand.

Interesting discussion about the possible source of the undead. I wasn’t sure if Chance would follow her out. The very last paragraph might be my favorite. Teresa may not have a witty remark in the middle of the battle, but here she seems quietly and naturally in charge.

Action! Lots of fun action here!

And another Ayleid Arimer Ancestor statue, too! We've got a payday coming that would have Maglir (the little fetcher) out the door for the Arena in a heartbeat. Oh, and there's also the shiny septim Umbacano is paying for those statues.

Olen: Thank goodness you escaped the greedy jaws of Real Life! I do enjoy writing the Teresa/Simplicia scenes. As you say, Teresa gets so exasperated at the older woman's quest to get her a good husband.


haute ecole rider: I had not thought of Raiders of the Lost Ark, but you are right, it would be perfect! These were your standard skeletons, which in the game only have 20 hit points. Although the TF version had swords with a Damage Health enchantment. In keeping with the rest of weapon damages being generally higher in the TF than the game, her touch destruction spell was more than enough to fry a skeleton in one boom. A zombie would have taken several uses however.


Acadian: Teresa does indeed show the value of her joining the FG here. Not only with having a companion like Chance this time, but especially in what she has learned thanks to Pappy.


Winter Wolf: I do love undead. They are my favorite monster to fight. There is no second-guessing if they are friendly or not. Just see them, and kill them.


Sir Graves ghastley: You need to do it lower levels! Then you will only get regular zombies, or the one-armed sort.


Grits: I was not sure if Chance was going to go back to the boat with Teresa either! But as you said, Teresa's leadership does indeed win the day. Whoever would have thought?


Thomas Kaira: Payday! Teresa has a knack for finding those statues, thanks to Raven. Or is it finding undead...


Next: Teresa and Chance braved the ruin of Culotte and discovered an Ancestor Statue. Since it was rather obvious where they were going afterward, we will skip ahead, and once more find Teresa back in Bravil.


Chapter 33.1 - The Blessing

21st-23rd Hearthfire, 3E433

"Well, I am halfway through the book already," Teresa said to Tadrose as the pair of women made their way through the corridors of the Fighters Guild hall. "Decius sure is a pompous s'wit. His friend Barbatus seems like a very kind and amiable man though. I can see why Juno likes him. It's too bad he doesn't pick his friends better though…"

"Oh just wait," Tadrose said as she opened the door to the bath chamber and held it open for Teresa. "Remember, so far we have only seen Decius from Euphemia's point of view, and she has her own share of prejudices that color it. Just like with real people, there is far more to him than what she imagines."

The large room was dominated by a massive tub of cedar, so tall that a wooden steps curled up one of its sides to enter it. Its bottom was made of copper, and Teresa could see the glow of the heatstones that spread along a tray that ran underneath it. Low benches of wood were spaced along two of the walls, and several mirrors were set into a third. Metal racks held sponges, soap, razors, and jars that contained everything from animal fat for shaving, to Teresa's own hand-made mixtures of body wash and hair gel. A metal grate was set into the center of the gently sloping floor, and was flanked by several buckets filled with water.

"Well, there isn't much more to Vincent than what I see." Teresa found the words spilling from her mouth as she stared at the Breton, who was still in the bathing room. The other fighter wore nothing but a loincloth, and stood with his back to the door. Teresa's eyes widened. Not so much from the sight - naked men did not shock her like they used to before joining the guild - but from her own statement. It was exactly the kind of witty barb she might find in a book, not think of herself!

"Hey, hold your horses you two!" Vincent exclaimed as he hurried to pull his breeches up to his waist. "Us men are still in here!"

"Yes, and we are so overcome from the sight of your bare flesh that we cannot contain ourselves." Tadrose's rolled her eyes as she sat down on a bench that ran against one wall. She began taking off her shoes as Teresa joined her. In the meantime the Breton took his time gathering up the rest of his clothes.

"Hey, there are plenty of women who can't wait to get their hands on the Breton Buck!" The male fighter now turned, proudly displaying a gigantic bulge in the crotch of his trousers. "What do you think about that?"

Teresa felt her eyes goggle, yet she noticed that Tadrose merely shook her head. "So that's where all our cucumbers went!" the dark elf exclaimed. "Or have you been playing with Teresa's alchemy kit?"

"Why don't you come and see," the Breton grinned, motioning to his crotch with both hands. "You won't be disappointed."

"I was disappointed the moment I stepped in the door," Teresa murmured. Again, she found herself stunned by her reply.

"You laugh now," Vincent declared with his nose held high and stepped to the door. "But I know that deep inside, you both can't resist me."

Teresa found herself looking to Tadrose at the same time that the Dunmer looked back at her. Then they both cast their gazes back at the foolish Breton.

"We can resist," the two women said in unison.

"You say that now. But late tonight, when you're trying to sleep, you'll be thinking about what I could do to you!"

A moment later one of Tadrose's shoes was flying at Vincent. Yet the Breton was too quick, and shut the door behind him as he scampered out of the room.

"I am sorry about that Teresa," the guild smith sighed as she stood and stripped off her tunic. "That is just part of working with men. Vincent has been a prankster ever since Bruma. I think it helps him cope."

"I'm no delicate patrician, like one of Juno Austenius' characters," Teresa said as she too began stripping off her clothing. "I grew up on the streets after all."

"Sometimes I do forget," the older woman pulled down the loose pants she wore for workouts and hung them over a peg in the wall. She followed with her underclothing, and then began washing herself with a wet, soapy sponge. "I've seen how the streets make people dead inside. But not you. You can be so kind sometimes."

Now Teresa felt her cheeks turning warm as she stripped off her own underclothes, and carefully removed the cloth pad that was secured between her legs. It was red, she saw, probably as red as she imagined her face was. She had felt a little bloated for the past two days, especially in the breasts. Thank Dibella she had started wearing her pad the other night!

"Oh is it your time?" Tadrose mentioned as she looked at the blood that stained the cloth. "I use a sponge when I get mine. You put it right up inside, and you can almost forget it is there."

"Really?" Teresa said, trying not to stare at the naked Dunmer. "That sounds a lot better than these cloths."

"Indeed, especially when you are exercising," the dark elf replied. "Talk to Nilawen, she sells them. I get mine on the solstices, so I just start using one when they draw near."

"Mine always come near the equinoxes," Teresa said as she set down the pad and reached for a small razor on one of the shelves."It's never very bad though. I don't get cramps, or headaches, like I know some women get."

"You are one of Mara's blessed," the dark elf observed, and for a moment Teresa thought she meant because of the lightness of her periods. "You have your courses during the planting and harvest times."

"I do?" Teresa wondered. It took every ounce of her will to not reach out and touch Tadrose's wet, naked body, let alone kiss her. The dark elf's form was girded with lean muscle, and bore more than one scar. Yet Teresa had never seen a woman so beautiful. Raven, give me strength, she thought. "I never really thought about it."

"Yes," Tadrose said. "The fall harvest begins tomorrow. That is why Gaius wanted everyone to meet back here after lunch. We have a contract to bodyguard the priestesses as they bless the fields."

Teresa let her eyes linger over the Dunmer's frame as she ascended the steps and slipped into the tub. Only after Tadrose had submerged within the steaming water was she able to draw her eyes away. Lifting each arm in turn, she shaved the depression underneath.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Tadrose said, nodding her head to Teresa's handiwork. "There is cream in the jars you know."

"I thought the same thing when I first saw someone else do it." The wood elf finished her arms and then sat back on the bench. Spreading her legs apart, she began to carefully work the razor in between. "It's really no bother at all though."

"Does that someone else shave there as well?" the Dunmer asked.

"As a matter of fact, she does," Teresa smiled faintly as she thought of Nerussa. "You should try it. It feels wonderful. It makes other things more enjoyable too."

Tadrose coughed, but Teresa could see that she was smiling. Please Dibella, Teresa silently prayed, let her be smiling because she's thinking of doing those things with me!

"Why Teresa, you are full of surprises!" Tadrose's red eyes glimmered through the steam that rose from the surface of the tub.

"Like you said, there is more to people than what we imagine," Teresa breathed.

* * *

"So how is it coming?"

Teresa tried to ignore the voice as she stared at the powdered bog beacon that was sizzling away on the calcinator before her. There, she thought as the granules turned a dull grey, that was just about right. Using a pair of gloves enchanted with resist fire, she lifted the calcinator from the heat stones which it sat over. Stepping further down the marble counter at which she worked, she spooned the hot material into the water that already bubbled in her alembic. Afterward she sealed shut the lid of the oddly shaped glass bottle, then double-checked that the long, slender tube that trailed down from the top of it was firmly set into the collection flask sitting beside it.

Finally she turned her head from the mixing table to the door of the guild's alchemy workshop, eyes still aglow with purple light from her Analyze Alchemy spell. There she saw Pappy, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest.

"The healing potions are over there." Teresa nodded to a cluster of small glass vials that sat atop a side table. Each was filled with pink liquid, and was decorated with the raised impression of two serpents coiled around a staff. "I am working on the shield potions now. I've added a little something extra that the regular ones don't have."

"Is that what happened to my Nordic whiskey?" The Colovian grinned, and stepped further into the room. After glancing over the stack of finished potions, he looked to the alembic. Already an amber liquid was dripping from its long neck and filling the collection flask. "Here I thought you didn't like the stuff."

"When it comes to poison, I prefer nightshade." Teresa rolled her eyes as she pulled the enchanted leather gloves from her hands. "Although I might be able to make a frost poison with it. Give me a bottle and I'll see what I can come up with."

"Oh no, not with my Mímisbrunnr! You have no idea how hard it is to get that stuff down here." The guild commander squinted down at the drops of liquid collecting in the flask. "So did you add something to make it taste better?"

"My potions taste just fine gramps," Teresa wrinkled her nose at the older man. "For your information, I combined the shield effect with one to restore magicka. Unlike the regular magicka potions that instantly fill you with energy, this one will increase how quickly you regain it instead. So you drink it before you start throwing spells, and you can keep at it for longer."

"Well I'll be a spotted snowbear, combination potions," the Colovian whistled as he looked from the alchemical apparatuses scattered across the table to the wood elf. "We never had a potion-slinger here in the Bravil chapter who could do those."

And I never knew how to make them either, Teresa thought, until meeting Ardaline. Looking at the calcinator and alembic, she could not believe how far she had come from her days of living in the Chamber Pot, where she had only a wooden mortar and pestle that were both chipped and dented from use. Now she could afford a set made of marble. Perhaps someday she might even have one of meteoric glass, like the one Ardaline used in the Mages Guild.

"Remember, we still need seven cure poisons for tomorrow too," the Colovian now set his hands on his hips. "One for each of us. I don't want anyone leaving this guildhall without a proper loadout."

"I was just about to start those now, while the magicka/shields distill," Teresa said. "You can help if you want. I have the ginseng right over there. After that I'll finish up with the cure disease potions."

"And deprive you of all the fun? I wouldn't dream of it." Pappy smiled at the shorter wood elf, and walked to the door. There he stopped to look back. "Just remember, be armed and armored before dawn. We've got a big couple of days coming up with these harvest blessings."

"I know, I know," Teresa nodded her head. "I'm not Vincent, you don't have to tell me twice. I'll be ready when the priestesses get here."

"By the way, I heard back from Alaine Retiene," the guild commander said. "He wanted to thank me again for giving him such a good bodyguard."

"I hardly did a thing," Teresa said. "Just took him up the river so he could take sketches of the mountains. It's not like I fought off a tribe of goblins or anything."

"Exactly," Pappy said. "That's what good bodyguarding is. Avoiding trouble to begin with."

"So when do I get paid for it?" Teresa asked pointedly.

"He said once he's done with the first painting, it's yours. The guild gets the second."

Teresa nodded. She had seen the Breton's artwork. He was no Rythe Lythandas, but she would still rather have one of his originals in place of a few septims. The painting would go very nicely with Simplicia's new home in Silverbridge. Once she managed to scrape up the money to buy the farm house from Decimus of course.


Note: I originally used the term Retort because in the game it increases the positive effects of a potion. Even though what I was thinking of was more of an Alembic IRL. After Olen's comment, I decided to go back and change it to an Alembic. As another side note, I will not be using Retorts at all in the TF, as they are practically the same thing as an Alembic IRL.

Back in Bravil already?

Just as well. I'm not fond of Umbacano myself.

So Teresa managed to read just half the book, though? It sounds like me, though. I have tried reading Jane Austen several times, but just couldn't get into it. The language puts me off. Still, I accept she's a gifted writer.

And a heavy dose of chickness. Maybe you should have put up a warning beforehand for those of the opposite persuasion!

Just one nit: . The closing quote is missing here. Probably dived into the tub when Teresa started shaving!

I might follow that quote into the tub. 10/10 for realism but there is such a thing as too much information That section aside...

Good part, the jabbing between Vincent and the girls at the start was good, as was the somewhat distressing romantic scene at the end. I suspect Tadrose does know Teresa interested, but could it be that she too is a bit shy?


Ewwww!

The alchemy section was great, more insight both into her increasing skill and the mechanics of it. More good banter between her and Pappy too.

One thing which stuck out as a bit odd, though is more carried over from the game than just here, was her distillation with a retort. Unless alembics are absent from TF I'd have expected her to use one of them as they are designed for the job while retorts are more for dry distillation, decomposition and gas collection. They can be used for distillaton though, it's just air cooled stills are a right faff.

The practical difference between the use of a Retort and an Alembic is which liquid you want to keep. If you want the lighter one, the Alembic captures it, and leaves the heavier one behind. The implication is that all poisons are the lighter liquids, and all potions are heavy, but if you consider an alcohol/water mix it's not a bad approximation. The Alembic will capture the alcohol, and the Retort will just boil it off and leave a more concentrated result (if concentrated water makes sense!)

But since the Alembic is all about separating, you can decide which to keep afterward, so using it in place of a Retort certainly works.

Tadrose takes no whipper-snapping from Vincent! Teresa was also delightfully witty throughout the exchange. Make sure he gives that cucumber back, Tadrose!

We then segue into some potion-brewing, as well. Hopefully Teresa didn't forget the incense, calcinators have a tendency to leave an acrid smell in the air, from what I've heard.

Sounds like we have quite the event coming up. Let's hope it goes well (which knowing the TES universe, it won't).

Nit:

I think you meant "as" here.

This was a delightful time at the guild! Some nice humor, then some girl talk and a bath.

Oh, that Teresa would shave is a given. My goodness, we can't exactly go around advertising that she is not a natural red head! Besides, shaving is probably easier than dying extra places with henna.

What a wonderfully long way Teresa has come with her alchemy! Such a neat lab she has set up all bubbling away and everything. Very neat.

First thing’s first:

Of course I don’t mind you using Lattia’s name! I had a blast seeing her name mentioned. I confess to being more than a little proud of her, regarded as a great mage in 4th Era TF.


Spoken like a woman. What your gender never seems to understand is that the ‘Silence’ is just as important as the other two!

Now, on to the comments:

WARNING!!! WALL OF TEXT FORTHCOMING!!!

Through A Nightmare Darkly

Thanks to your opening screenshot, I can’t get the image of Teresa as Father Merrin standing on the threshold of little Regan’s house in The Exorcist out of my mind! Through a Nightmare Darkly has to rank as my least favorite quest in the game. How does my retrieving all of Henantier’s faculties help him escape from his self-imposed prison? Shouldn’t that be something that he has to do for himself? I swear that quest would have made a lot more sense if Henantier had to go with you as a companion, or even if your consciousness was transferred into his body for the duration of the quest. But the fact that he just sits there doing nothing while you traipse throughout his subconscious never fails to tick me off. . . even when I’m just writing about it, apparently.

With that said, I can’t compliment you enough on your rendition of that quest. It has to rank right up there with the Battle of Bruma and stands as yet another towering achievement in the TF!

BTW cute butt, Teresa!

** As an aside, I really enjoyed the discussion that you and TK had concerning the Daedra. I have always enjoyed the amount of thought that you have given to the ordinary Tamrielic attitude toward the Daedra. I am of the opinion that the Daedra serve their own ends. Concerns of the relative ‘good’ or ‘evil’ intent of their actions simply do not apply because they are ascribed to them through the prism of mortal perception. If the collective insects of the world decided that certain humans were ‘good’ or ‘evil’ would that matter to the humans in question? **

The awkwardness and vulnerability that Teresa displays in her fumbling apology to Ancondil is just fantastic. The fact that she feels the need to apologize at all is not only perfectly Teresa, it is perfectly female. Given Ancondil’s sensitive nature, it is a wonder that the two didn’t bump into each other in their zeal to be the first to genuflect!

And dont’cha know it, by the end of the chapter Ancondil graces me with his first ‘rapscallion.’


Well, not in the way one might have hoped, but it appears that Teresa has at long last discovered the addictive nature of endorphins! I thought Nerussa would have taught her about that.

It never ceases to amaze me how much women worry over whether getting into shape will have a detrimental effect on their love life. I know that it won’t mean anything to Teresa coming from me, but I know that I am not alone in saying that there is nothing sexier than a woman who can kick my a$$!

EDIT: I guess that is a lesson that is brought home to Teresa when Tadrose joins her in the tub!


Would Teresa please impart this nugget of wisdom to Buffy?

So now Ancondil has channeled Frost, Eliot, and Tennyson! I see some Keats or some Shelley in my future.

Whoops! You know the writing is good when you get so lost in it that you forget to stop to make a comment! All of the segments in the Day In The Life chapter are amazing. Even after already reading it once before I find myself getting lost in the Bravil Guild all over again. The dinner that they share in celebration of Teresa and Ancondil’s official entry into the guild was just perfect. I also like that you used it as the moment to introduce Vincent Galien (fresh from a galleon, I presume).

Now, on to chapter 30!

There is a reason that Vols has become one of the central characters in the TF, and this chapter is the perfect illustration of it. The others already pointed out everything about his gruff exterior masking a heart of pure gold. My favorite thing about the way you handled this is that you gave Vols the sense to know that it was a choice that Brekke had to make for herself. When he stood there waiting, I held my breath right along with him. And when she stepped forward I suppressed far more than just a faint smile!

I loved Calindil’s lesson on magic the first time I read it, and time has not soured the taste. Though it embarrasses me to admit it, I found myself rubbing my hands together along with Brekke. Like I said after reading this in version 1.0, between Vols and Calindil I genuinely feel sorry for the next bully that takes a poke at Brekke.

Now, at long last, on to Chapter 31!

Chapter 31.1

Here’s something that I don’t think has been touched upon: Teresa remarks to Julia that she could not think of herself raising one child, let alone four. Yet Julia and Marcus have a son named Quintis. Could one infer from this that they lost a child at some point? If so, then that is an incredibly subtle way of hinting at the harsh realities of life as a farmer outside the protection of the city gates.

Chapter 31.2

Teresa: Oh, that is playing at the Globe, isn’t it? Why don’t we go see it tonight after dinner?

Tadrose: I think that would be wonderful. I did not know you enjoyed Juno Austenius?

Teresa (beaming from ear to ear): Who?

And what can I say about the re-introduction of Destri? He was Chance’s father??!! Oh great, now I have to start paying more attention to Chance in this story! I know it may be sacrilegious, but Jalbert was a necromancer. Perhaps Destri is still out there, wandering with Nolquinn and Lorien.

I think I’m going to enjoy this.

Chapter 31.3

Aleron’s part in the TF gets fleshed out a little. The idea of a man with gambling debts bartering his services to the Fighter’s Guild for fighting lessons is just excellent! I am a bit surprised that Ancondil didn’t make the trip with them. Nothing says back-up like an orc who specializes in percussion instruments.

Chance’s memories of Destri are interesting considering all that he said about the pressures of living under a father’s shadow. I guess we never realize how important things are to us until we are faced with the prospect of losing them.

And I wonder who is hanging out at Culotte? Could it be an opportunistic Imperial?

Chapter 31.4

Cheapside is a fantastic invention! So is the Chamber Pot. I imagine the more blustery individuals who haunt the Waterfront could make quite a living, being as full of cacat as they are. I wonder if Chance will have the chance opportunity to avail himself of the, ahem, establishment where Adanrel plies her wares. Of course, that’s probably the last thing on his mind right now . . . but still.

Something else that occurred to me; I don’t imagine that Pappy will be very happy with this excursion that Teresa and Chance have set upon. I don’t believe that he would begrudge Chance the knowledge of his father’s fate. I think that he would be angry with them for venturing into a ruin as dangerous as Vilverin without more adequate back-up.

Chapter 31.5

I think it was more than simple commerce that prompted Jensine’s attitude toward parting with the mace. We saw her haggling with the Altmer woman when Teresa and Chance walked into the shop. I don’t believe that she was haggling with the two of them over the mace. She deliberately tried to price the thing outside of their ability to pay. I suspect that Jensine really does see that mace as her good luck in tangible form. She killed a clannfear with, after all. I imagine that for a merchant, even one that hails from Skyrim, killing a clannfear is the type of thing that one could point to and say, ‘see, I mattered. I did something!’ The weapon that allowed one to do it would be given a sacred position amongst all of one’s possessions. Losing it would almost be like denying the thing ever happened, and that would make Jensine just a lowly merchant again.

Of course, I might be reading too much into it.

Chapter 31.6

That was a nice, quiet interlude between mother and daughter. I can’t wait for Teresa to ask Methredhel about Simplicia’s story. I also seem to remember that Vols still thinks it was Teresa who saved him in the mausoleum. Man, will his head start racing when she tells him that it wasn’t.

I have a feeling that Bag of Holding is going to become a mainstay in Teresa’s growing arsenal.

Chapter 31.7

Your summation of the political situation in Hammerfell was very interesting. So the age old rivalry continues into the 4th Era? I’m sure that Casnar will hate to hear that. It appears that he and Destri share a similar fate. Both are betrayed by a king for whom the appeasement of Forebears was the only expedient action. It’s just a shame that both men came to such tragic ends. However, all is not lost. I have great hopes that the Hero of Kvatch can redeem Casnar, and I suspect that Destri’s redemption now bears his mace.

Chapter 32.1


Now that sounds vaguely pornographic!

A conspiracy of ravens and a murder of crows . . . think the black birds are trying to tell us something?


I suspect it goes back to Yokuda and the Hiradirge. The Ansei had been marginalized after Randic Torn’s Sword Hunt. For a commoner, even possession of a weapon could cost you your life. When the Ansei rebelled the resulting wars were devastating. In the aftermath, a reeling Yokuda was set upon by the Hiradirge who used magic to destroy the entire continent. That resulted in the mass migration to Hammerfell, and contributed to the mind-set that magic was not to be trusted.

Then again, it could be because the people at Bethesda (in their infinite wisdom) decided to make Redguards stupid to start the game, thus giving them a low magicka score!

Chapter 32.2 & 32.3

I think, as angry as Pappy might be at them for going into an Ayleid ruin alone, he couldn’t help but be proud of the way that they acquitted themselves within that ruin. He would also be proud of them for having the sense to adhere to Pappy’s Rule #3.

**Memo to Teresa: I know you got paid and all but one raven is good. A conspiracy of ravens is not to be trusted!**

Chapter 33.1

WARNING!!! ESTROGEN OVERLOAD!!!!

I guess after the fireworks of the last two chapters this chapter was inevitable, eh? It seems that Tadrose might be responsive to Teresa’s advances after all. I wonder where that would place Nerussa? Teresa has changed a lot, but I still don’t see her as the ‘woman in every port’ type.

Well, I’ll be. I’m all caught up!

Love the P&P discussion between T&T. Vincent’s antics are the perfect foil for Teresa’s newly expressed wit. And then after the Breton Buck departed, chick overload!

Chapter 33.1, the TMI episode! The Blessing indeed. It seems that a Bravilian wax may be in order. Is there a day spa near the Fighters Guild? Seriously though, I am pleased to see the subject addressed as naturally as hair conditioning or caring for one’s teeth.

"Why Teresa, you are full of surprises!" Tadrose's red eyes glimmered through the steam that rose from the surface of the tub.

"Like you said, there is more to people than what we imagine," Teresa breathed.

A very promising exchange, and a great demonstration of the common experiences building up between these two. I’m taking Teresa’s faint smile as she thought of Nerussa combined with no report of meeting her on the last trip to the IC to mean that Nerussa is a very pleasant part of Teresa’s past.

Excellent alchemy lesson in the story, and in the comments that follow.

haute ecole kitty: I figure Teresa for being a slow reader, and really not used to reading books for pleasure (until now the only books she has read have been on things like Daedra, alchemy, and Arimer history). A novel is well, novel to her!


Olen: Animal fat was something I dug up from history. It was the old-fashioned shaving cream. If you cringed at the wimmen's bits already, you might want to skip the next two episodes, as they both revolve around menstruation.


ghastley: Gotta keep 'em seperated... So that is the difference between them? When I looked them up, I found pictures of the same device, and descriptions that seemed to say the same thing. So I just figured why bother having two different things in the TF?


Thomas Kaira: I would not want that cucumber back after where it's been!


Acadian: I never thought about shaving to conceal her natural hair color! But brilliant! The alchemy scene was difficult to write, as I am no alchemist IRL (although I do own a mortar and pestle), it took a lot of looking things up, and as you can see from the comments, I was a still a bit off on some things!


Destri Melarg: By Zenitor! That is a wall of text! Seriously, I am humbled by the amount of effort you put into your catch-up comments. It is very generous of you to take so much time and effort on behalf of my scribblings.

On the subject of silence, I was so tempted to link to a sound clip of a woman orgasming, but I was afraid I might be banned!

Teresa as Father Merrin! Yowzers! She wishes she could be that cool. I loved Stellan Skarsgard playing him in Exorcist: The Beginning, especially at the end when he throws down with the POG (Power of God).

I agree that the Daedra themselves do not care for mortal ideas such as good and evil. Rather it is just that when you are an ant, and see millions of your kind stepped on, it colors your view of the feet you see above you.

Nerussa has indeed introduced Teresa to the lovely cocktail of endorphins. But our wood elf is not used to experiencing them from exercise!

You know, thanks to my John Wayne fest over the past few weeks, I am coming to see Vols as more like the Duke now. I guess when he starts saying "That'll be the day!" it will clinch it.

I never really thought of Quintis as meaning child number five. But since you mention it, I think I will have to go with it!

I am sure Ancondil would have went, but I think the dory would have sank if he climbed in with the other three. Especially if he brought his armor with him!

I actually got the Hammerfell politics from the 3rd Edition Pocket Guide, which is dated 432. I was in fact thinking of Casnar's straits when I wrote of Destri's past. As you said, both pledged themselves and their honor to a king, and both were betrayed when they were politically inconvenient.

I hope you have enjoyed how I have used your namesake in the TF. This is what I had in mind the entire time. I just could not say anything because it would have spoiled the surprise. It has certainly added a great deal more depth and history to the character of Chance.


Grits: T&T, I have to remember that! The subject of menstruation is one I have been looking forward to tackling at some point. This chapter was perfect, as the following episode will reveal. Given that we in the West live in a patriarchal society, even acknowledging that it happens unsettles most people. But other, more female-friendly societies are not so squeamish, and see menstruation as a gift that women have, a time of magical power. From the earliest days it was associated with the power of creation, and is why many cultures would smear the dead with menstrual blood, or failing that other red substances like ochre. The idea being that it would insure one's rebirth. Thanks to this, menstrual blood has always been high on the list of magically powerful things.


Next: Our previous episode found Teresa enjoying daily life at the guild, putting her alchemy to use, and experiencing the start of her period. Next we find her setting out the next morning on an important contract.


Chapter 33.2 - The Blessing

Magnus was peeking over the horizon when the cart bearing Teresa and her charge trundled out of Bravil's north gate and across the wooden bridge that spanned the Larsius. A tall horse with a thick, barrel frame drew them forth. A deep bay in color, her lower legs were hidden by thick white feathers, and a white blaze ran the length of her face. The burly horse strode forth across the bridge with such little effort that Teresa would not have even imagined that she was pulling the two-wheeled cart. That came as no surprise to the forester, for it was obvious that the Shire weighed far more than the cart did, and that was including herself and the priestess beside her!

Turning her head from the heavy horse, Teresa glanced at the woman seated on the vehicle beside her. A skirt of dark cream wool that was stained from dirt hid the other woman's long legs. Above that she wore a blouse of worn green flax with the sleeves rolled up above her elbows, and whose V-shaped neckline barely contained her generous chest. Her brilliant auburn hair was gathered in a braid that was bound up in a tight circle behind her head, leaving only a few errant locks to spill across her temples. Her features were full, complemented by ruddy cheeks and plump lips. Her entire body was somewhat plump in fact, and full of curves. If not for the copper medallion she wore depicting Mara holding a bundle of wheat in one hand, and a sickle in the other, Teresa would have never imagined that she might be a priestess. Even with it she hardly looked the part. Rather she appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary plebeian.

Screenshot

"I wonder what they are building over there Olava?" Teresa took her eyes off the living saint from the Benevolence of Mara and nodded to the wooden framework that had sprung up in the open field north of the city. "I saw people working there yesterday when I got back into the city."

"You haven't heard?" The other woman turned her head from the road to Teresa. "That's for the Tournament of Archers. It's being held here in Bravil this year. It starts in about a week."

"Tournament of Archers?" Teresa could not prevent a single eyebrow from arching as they passed by the skeletal construction of wood, which she now imagined might be the beginnings of an amphitheater. "I didn't know there was such a thing?"

"Of course!" the Nord priestess smiled. "It's held in a different county every year, but it's always at the beginning of autumn. It doesn't get as much attention as the tournaments the knights have in the summer - especially the big one at the Imperial City - but people still come from all over Cyrodiil to see it. It's mostly for plebeians though. Since shooting a bow isn't as genteel as bashing someone's head in with a mace."

Teresa allowed a faint smile to creep past her lips at the sarcasm in the priestess' tone. Olava obviously felt the same way she did about bloodsports. "Is that why it's after the harvest," the wood elf observed. "So all the farmers have money in their pockets?"

"Oh, you are a sharp one," the Nord winked as she turned her eyes back to guiding their horse along the road. "In spite of what the patricians might like to believe, civilization is not created from stone, marble, and gold. It's made from good, tilled nirn. Without the Three Sisters, there'd be no Bravil."

"The Three Sisters?" Teresa asked, afraid that she had touched off a sermon from the holy woman.

"Corn, beans, and squash," Olava said, sparing a moment to glance at Teresa. "It's the foundation of all farming here in the Nibenay Valley. Has been since before the First Age. There's the winter wheat of course too, and some smaller crops of things like carrots, cabbage, and cucumbers, but without the Sisters, everyone would starve."

"So why those three?" Teresa asked. "Why not just wheat?"

"It's companion farming," Olava explained. "Each plant helps the other to grow. The corn stalks give the beans a structure to grow on, so you don't have to put down stakes. The beans actually enrich the soil. The squash covers the ground and chokes off weeds. The leaves are prickly and help keep pests away, plus they give you a mulch after the harvest."

Teresa nodded. It reminded her of how Pappy described a team of fighters as the fingers on a hand. Acting in concert, they were stronger than their individual parts. She had certainly seen that with Chance in Culotte. Neither of them would have survived alone. She had never imagined that the same could be true for crops though!

"For a priestess, you certainly know a lot about farming," Teresa observed.

"You spend too much time around city-folk," the other woman chided. "They think Mara is nothing but the marriage bed. They're cut off from the land, and the natural rhythms of life as the seasons turn. Mara is the moist, black soil beneath our feet, and the green growing things that sprout from her fecund bosom. A good priestess isn't afraid to get her hands down in the dirt. That's where they belong! It's where all life comes, and where it all goes back to in the end."

"Now I see why you are the living saint of Bravil." Teresa felt as if a weight had been drawn from her shoulders. Here she had been expecting endless lectures on Imperial morality as she shepherded the other woman from village to village. She never would have imagined that a priestess could be so pragmatic, so ordinary and down-to-nirn!

"Pfft! Living saint my rosy bum!" Olava chuckled. "I just do that needs doing, and count my blessings."

The Nord frowned for a moment then. Squinting her eyes in what Teresa thought might be pain, she reached a hand down to her pelvis.

"What's wrong?" the wood elf asked, hoping the other woman was not ill. That would be the last thing they needed, before even starting their rounds of the villages!

"Just cramps is all." Olava moved her hand away and concentrated fully upon the road, which now turned to skirt around an apple orchard. "They can get pretty strong around harvest and planting."

"You're having your courses too?" Teresa blinked.

"Naturally," the priestess replied. "I always get them for the blessings. I have to! Else there wouldn't be much of a ceremony."

"What do you mean?" Teresa said under furrowed brows.

"You don't know?" the Nord asked. "You have spent most of your life in the city. You have heard of the Red Wine of Life haven't you, that flowed from between Mara's legs to create life on Nirn? The blessings I perform on the crops require it. Not a single ear of corn can be cut until Mara's red blood has sanctified the ground."

"So you have to use your…" Teresa's eyes widened. The priestess had been right. For as much as she had explored the wilderness since the spring, she could see that she still had much to learn about the nature of life in the country. She knew how to live on her own in the forest; to live off the land and befriend the animals that lived there. Yet for all the farms and pastures she had passed by in that time, she still had no idea what life was really like for the people on them.

"Not simply my blood," the Nord explained. "But Mara's blood. The ceremony transfigures it, transforms it into the goddess herself. That is what makes the blessing. The words do not matter. I can do it all without saying a thing in fact. Her blood is all that matters. It's the source of all life."

Teresa thought about that. It was so… raw and visceral. When she thought of the Nine and their clergy, it was always of dignified folk in immaculate basilicas like that of Zenithar's. She always imagined them as polite folk who lived in halls of polished marble and gold leaf. Places where everything was so perfect and neat that one was afraid to touch anything lest it break.

But Olava's goddess was no marble statue gazing serenely upon a congregation of gentle folk. She was a deity of blood and dirt. Of calluses, hard work, and sometimes pain. She did not elevate people to a higher level of consciousness. Rather she was the foundation upon which life in all its grubby, tenacious forms grew, flourished, and eventually died.

The forester wondered what Morcant would think of Olava? She had the impression that the Witch would like the priestess. Teresa knew that she already did.

GAAAAAK! ... never ... eat ... corn ... again ... URG !!! Love the research you put into this - finally got some free time to catch back up !! (and just in time to see Teresa in the tourney !!! WOO HOO !!!) Awesome Write, as you always do, SubRosa !!

Obviously, my dear MalX, you have not heard about the Hell's
Angels order of the Red Wings. I gained my Wings donkey's years ago

Actually, I have heard of it ... but ... never had the desire to earn them myself, lol.

@mALX: I believe those wings are limited to men only. Though I don't know if it applies to lesbian women, as well. And blood isn't so bad-tasting after all, at least not compared to some of the other bodily fluids I've had the pleasure (not) to taste in the line of work.

Now, on to Teresa's story. The linking of the menstruation to the fertility of the fields bring to mind the ancient ritual of the Corn King (so called in some cultures) that has been around a very long time. The life blood of the king (who is believed to be intimately connected to the land) is shed to make the ground fertile, while a new Corn King is selected for the following year's ritual. In ancient times, there has long been a fascination with the fact that women bleed monthly without dying, which was a thing of mystery and magic to many men (and some women, too, I presume). Bringing these ancient human rituals into the land of Nirn adds a certain depth to the world-building. But I have to wonder if mer (apparently they cycle much slower than human women - consistent with their long lives) view menstruation in quite the same way as the old hunter-gatherer systems IRL did. But by having their menses at the equinoxes versus the solstices certainly raises more questions on the subject.

I was pleased to see mention of the Three Sisters. What a way to honor those who occupied this continent before us bumbling, clueless Europeans did!

GAAAAH! Foxy, get your clipboard out ... time for another survey.

I must have a bit of dylexia, because when I read this, I thought "Even if it was years ago, DONKEYS??!!!

A good description of using multiple crops to get the best yeild. Teresa's lack of knowledge of rural customs is fitting, she might know about the wilds, but rural life is rather different fro the extremes of city and country she knows. It reflects her background and development well, and I suspect she might learn some things which will be useful if she plans to buy that house for Simplicia...

Olava is certainly not what I expected, she is, as you said, 'down to Nirn' which is a great lore friendly line. She's another strong and interesting character for this piece. I wonder if her religous side might affect Teresa's own spirituality. I also wonder what danger lurks that she needs FG protection.

On the subject of alembics/retorts: the in game pictures aren't correct. They show the retort as a round bottom flask with a stright neck pointing upward. Similar glassware is usually used for heating things to collect gas, or for boiling away stuff or boiling under reflux if you chill the neck so the condensed vapours run back down into the boiling liquid. In RL a retort is essentially a rubbish still. In both game and RL alembics are stills. However the in game meshes look like an explosion waiting to happen (no vent and trust me an explosion with a glass still is no fun at all). Historially alembics would often have water cooled condensers to increase the rate of collection.

Old business. On the alchemy stuff, I'll take the TES/Nirn gear and the magnificent magic it can work over its humble earth counterpart equipment and results any day. Like I said before, I loved the alchemy lab you depicted Teresa using in the Fighters Guild - largely because it was familiar to what I play and love.


What a lovely and natural light flow from the previous episode to this one!

I loved the shire horse pulling the wagon and your whole concept of fall harvest and fertility and all of it. How very natural and beautiful that a Priestess of Mara impart the blood of life to the land which, in turn, sustains life.

The Tournament of Archers! I so look forward to seeing it from Teresa's perspective!

"They think Mara is nothing but the marriage bed. They're cut off from the land, and the natural rhythms of life as the seasons turn. Mara is the moist, black soil beneath our feet, and the green growing things that sprout from her fecund bosom.'
By Mara, one more reason for a wood elf to love Mara and her city!

Your portrayal of Olava was fabulous, made even richer by mention of Morcant.

Now there's an image I will be taking to my grave... corn anointed in blood from... that place?

Still, I've seen far worse than that at the movies. If you really don't mind a lot of blood and racy content, Machete does some stuff on the silver screen you wouldn't believe (you might want to bring a sick bag, though).

Bravil truely is a rough-and-tumble town. Despite the beauty not to be judged by the cover looks of the place, it is still quite a destitute city, and one not afraid to get its hands dirty (as my Bosmer has discovered).

I hope Teresa finds the time to watch the archery tournament. I'm not sure Dere will be able to, given he's on the run from assassins and an Ancient right now, so say hi to Buffy for me.

I, for one, am glad that you found a way to give Olava something to do besides walk around the Chapel all day! Having her make the rounds of all the farms, especially during fall harvest, is a great idea that adds ever more life to this world that you are creating for us.

I did find one nit:

I don't think the 'a' belongs here.


To piggy-back on what hautee is saying:

All you have to do is look at the various myths of ancient cultures to see the preeminence that menstrual blood had in their belief systems. The Maoris and the Ancient Africans believed that man was formed out of menstrual blood retained in the womb. The idea of human beings formed out of menstrual blood was still taught in some European universities as late as the 18th century. According to Norse legend, Thor attained enlightenment and eternal life by bathing in a river of menstrual blood from the ‘Primal Matriarchs’, who governed the Elder Gods before Odin brought his Aesir out of the east. Odin himself supposedly achieved omnipotence by stealing and drinking the ‘wise blood’ from the triple cauldron in the womb of Mother Earth. And Egyptian Pharaohs supposedly became divine by drinking sa, the 'blood of Isis.'

Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?

EW! Blech! I guess I wouldn't make a very good necromancer ... URG !!

D.Foxy: I love my Red Wings. They beat the Leafs tonight 4-2! Oh, you mean, those other Red Wings...


haute ecole rider: John Barleycorn must die! I have always loved those beliefs linking the fate of the land to that of its rulers, typically calling for the sacrifice of the king.

It was actually the ES lore that prompted me to weave menstrual magic into their agricultural ceremonies. Back when I was looking for a mural to put on the IC's granaries in the misty dawn of Chapter 14 (The Grandmaster), I found that Mara was not only the mother/queen goddess, but also the corn goddess. I am used to seeing those two roles separated, as with Hera and Demeter. So I was taken aback at first. But when I started working on this chapter, I realized that the symbol of the creation of life which the mother goddess' menstrual mysteries represent work perfectly in an agricultural context as well. It is just transferring what is typically seen as a human act to that of vegetation. I think it worked out very well, and this next episode will reveal that synthesis in practice.

I could not resist the Three Sisters. I learned about them when I was doing research on Bravil's climate, which I am patterning on that of coastal North Carolina - Wilmington in particular. I was looking at the kind of crops that are grown in that region, and I came upon the Native American method of farming. I simply fell in love with it, and had to use it.


Olen: I wrestled with how to write Olava at first, because she is not only a priestess, but the living saint of Bravil. I asked myself how someone would exemplify Mara's influence in daily life? My first thought was to have a zillion kids. Then I looked back at how Mara is also a corn goddess as well as a mother goddess, and Olava instantly clicked into place as the happy farmer.


Acadian: Funny that you chose the word flow there... You picked up on exactly the synthesis that I was hoping for between Mara the mother goddess and Mara the agriculture goddess. I am so glad that at least a few people saw that. It also does indeed tie Mara very closely into Bosmer spirituality, being that she is the fertility of the land. This is also something I intended, as it makes it easy for a Bosmer Witch to also follow Mara at the same time.

The Torment of Archers indeed! I know that Teresa will enjoy seeing other archers for a change, such as Daenlin and his protege Buffy. Who knows, perhaps Teresa will even enter herself?


Thomas Kaira: I hate to break this to you, but you were anointed with that same sacred flow when you were born, not to mention beforehand. It is the wall of the uterus where you were planted, grew, and eventually sprang from.


Destri Melarg: Thank you for pulling out so many of those references to the magical power of menstruation. I did not know the part about the Maoris. I have added it to my notes. I was mainly thinking of Hera, who gave her menstrual blood - "the supernatural red wine" - to the gods, which made them immortal. Not to mention she formed the Milky Way galaxy by squirting droplets of milk from her breast, not only giving us the name of our galaxy, but also the very term galaxy itself, which is from the Greek word gala or "mother's milk". There is also Kali, who invited the gods "to bathe in the bloody flow of her womb and drink of it; and the gods, in holy communion, drank the fountain of life and bathed in it, and rose blessed to the heavens."

None of this sounds at all strange to me. With thousands of years of medical science we know better how life is conceived. But back in the stone age, all people knew were that women had kids after they became old enough to menstruate. Then they stopped menstruating while carrying a child, and started again after giving birth. While incorrect, the logical assumption is that they were somehow using that blood to create the child.

What I find really amazing are the myths that completely take women out of the birthing process. Such as the Greek tales of Athena bursting from the brow of Zeus. Or Aphrodite rising from the foam of Uranos' severed genitals. Now that is really stretching things.


mALX: What does necromancy have to do with the very common belief that divinity with a female face is the force that brings life to the universe?


Next: In our previous episode Teresa set out with Olava the Fair of Bravil's chapel, and learned a few things about the nature of farm life and spirituality. Next she accompanies the living saint as she puts those ideas to use. Warning, if you are squeamish about women's spirituality you had better not read this.


Chapter 33.3 - The Blessing

They spent the morning rolling north along the Green Road. They passed one village after another on their right, and the land between was filled with tilled fields nearly bursting with their produce. To their left rose the green wall of the Great Forest, concealing all beyond within its shadowy recesses.

They did not pause on their journey however, and allowed the farms to pass by. Teresa knew those would be seen to by another priestess, who was being guarded by Pappy. Tadrose had the settlements west of the Bravil, including Silverbridge. Ancondil was across Niben Bay to the south. While the others were all spread out across the eastern shores of the lake.

It was a total effort by her guild. Once again, they were not being paid. Rather as with Aleron Loche and his fishing boat, or Alain Retiene and his paintings, their work as bodyguards would be repaid by free healing and spell instruction at the Benevolence of Mara in Bravil.

It felt strange to ride in a cart rather than walk. Yet the forester could not deny that they traveled much quicker this way. If what Olava had said about the farmers not being able to harvest their crops until she blessed them was true, then they would need to be quick. Else they would not be able to do their most important work of the entire year. Bringing in the main crop.

Magnus was standing at his zenith when Olava finally tugged at the reins to bring the cart off the Green Road. They trundled onto a dirt pathway that was little more than a pair of wagon ruts worn deeply into the ground. "Whoa, slow down there Button, we don't want you breaking a leg now," the priestess said, curbing the great horse's pace on the rough track.

"Her name is Button?" Teresa asked, looking from the Nord to the horse.

"Yes," the priestess smiled back. "Because she's cute as a button. That was the first thing I thought when she came out of her momma. Well, once we'd cleaned her up of course."

"Do you normally help with horses giving birth?" Teresa was surprised that a priestess would be part of an animal's birthing. Although the idea was certainly a comforting one.

"Whenever I can," Olava said as she guided Button to the wooden walls of a village. "It's one of the best parts of being a priestess."

The main gate of the settlement was already open. Over a dozen people dressed in weathered flax loitered there, and let out a cheer as the Nord guided the cart within. Homes of daub and wattle passed by to either side, and they picked up quite a crowd as they rode along the main street of the settlement. By the time they stopped at the far wall of the village, there must have been nearly a hundred people crowded behind them. Most were Nibeneans from their dark hair and eyes, but Teresa saw a few sandy-maned Bretons among them, and even one or two tow-headed Nords.

"Well you're a sight for sore eyes aren't you milady!" one of the Nibeneans exclaimed. His face was a road map of lines, and his hair grey as thunderclouds. "Bless the Lady for bringing you here safe and sound! There've been rumors of goblins and trolls in the forest of late."

"Bless Teresa here for that." Olava nodded to the forester. Teresa briefly fingered the Fighters Guild medallion upon her chest, making sure it was face up so that everyone could see the red shield and white crossed swords upon it. Looking across the sea of farmers, she imagined that it made her the nearest thing to the law in the village. At least compared to the City Guard or Imperial Legion.

Such a strange feeling! Teresa's head whirled as she climbed down to a sea of smiling faces. They were all looking at her like she really was a guardian and protector. If Simplicia could only see her now, or Methredhel!

"Now who shall be helping me today?" Teresa heard Olava ask above the chatter of the peasants. As if by the magic of her words, the crowds parted to allow a young girl to stride forth. Clad in a robe of white linen, she wore a garland of flowers on her head. Teresa imagined that she was in her early teens, and the olive-skin of her cheeks blossomed a deep crimson as she stood before the priestess.

"You have received Mara's blessings?" Olava asked, sounding formal for the first time since Teresa had met her.

The girl simply nodded in reply, and Teresa wondered if she was too embarrassed to speak. With the entire village staring at her, the forester did not wonder why. Teresa doubted she would have done any better herself at the same age. Let alone now!

"Well good on you!" the Nord laughed, and put out an arm to hug the girl for a moment. That brought a peal of laughter from the crowd, and even a modest giggle from the white-clad girl. Olava then led her to the cart and unfastened the straps that held down a small chest behind the seat. "My name is Olava, and what is yours?"

"Drusilla," the girl replied, her head bowed before the priestess.

"Well Dru, I want you to hold this aspersorium for me." The Nord opened the chest and drew forth a great silver chalice, engraved with images of a woman reaping wheat, corn, and squash and filling a cornucopia with the crops. She handed this to the girl, who nearly dropped it for a moment, before clutching it to her breast. "That's one big cup, isn't it?"

That brought more laughter from the farmers, and Olava turned back to the chest to bring out a handful of basil sprigs, all tied together in a bundle. She motioned for a villager with a bucket of water to step forward and fill the cup, nearly spilling it all over the poor girl holding it. That brought further exclamation from the farmers, and finally they set off into the fields with Olava in the lead, closely followed by her assistant. Teresa noted that many of the farmers carried large wicker baskets with them, as well as sickles and knives.

Mounds of dirt filled the field. Each was covered in tall stalks of corn. Bean plants reached up their lower reaches, and squash lay on the ground underneath. The Three Sisters, Teresa thought as she stepped past one such mound after another. It was just as Olava had described.

The villagers started up a song as they stepped through the lanes that snaked between the crops. Teresa had never heard it before, so she did not sing along. She was grateful for that, for she was finding it difficult enough to pay attention to her task of being a bodyguard, without becoming even more caught up in the rite than she already was.

She reminded herself of what the grey-haired villager had said when they arrived. That there was word of trolls and goblins in the forest. That would be the last thing they needed out in the open fields, with no walls to protect the farmers. With that in mind she paused to string her bow, then sprinted to catch up with the others.

She found that the villagers had changed their song to another one that she did know.

"We are a circle,
within a circle,
with no beginning,
and never ending."

As they sang, they formed a circle around Olava and Drusilla. Teresa herself remained outside, doing her best to scan the fields for signs of trouble, rather than stare at the forming spectacle.

Still, she could not ignore the ritual going on before her. The crowd parted to let Olava pass through, with Drusilla once again in tow. Olava dipped the sprigs of basil that she held into the chalice, and then began to walk around the circle with Drusilla following. With each step, she sprinkled the water to either side. Occasionally she would pause to wet the basil again before continuing on. When she had finally completed a full circuit of the gathering, she once more strode back to the center of the circle.

Now the singing stopped, and Olava lifted the front of her long skirt with one hand. Her other hand disappeared within its folds, only to remerge again long moments later. Now her fingers dripped red with blood however. She held her hand over the chalice, allowing the blood to drip down her fingers and into the cup. Then she took the silver vessel from Drusilla, and waited patiently for the young girl to do the same.

Finally Olava drank from the chalice, and even from her distant viewpoint, Teresa could see that its contents had turned scarlet. Lifting the great cup skyward, the priestess began to speak.

"I am the beauty of Nirn,
the black soil beneath your feet,
the blue waters around you,
the breath of life in your body.
I call to you, rise and come forth,
my children all.

For I am the mother of all,
who gives life to the world.
From me all things proceed,
and to me all things return;
and before my face,
beloved of gods and mortals,
let your inmost self be held in my grace.

Let my worship be within the heart that rejoices;
for behold, all acts of love and joy are my rituals.

So let there be beauty and strength,
power and compassion,
honor and humility,
love and purity,
mirth and reverence within you.

For now I spread my legs wide,
and bring forth the Red Wine of Life,
drink from its flow,
and flower eternal."

Olava now lowered the cup, and for a moment Teresa was certain that the priestess looked directly at her. The Nord's skin had turned black, and taken on the rough, grainy texture of loose soil. Her hair was a mane of green leaves, and her eyes were pools of liquid blue, like the surface of Lake Rumare on a calm day.

Teresa blinked, and once more Olava was her ordinary self, leaving the wood elf to wonder if she had just imagined the transformation within the priestess.

Olava dipped her hand into the chalice, then snapped her fingers above her. Droplets of red liquid rained down around her and Drusilla, only to be greedily sucked up by the ground below. The dirt beneath the two women's feet shuddered, then seemed to roll out in all directions, like the rings created by dropping a stone in a still pond.

As the soil arched, so too did the plants upon it. The stalks of corn rustled and shook, as if they were about to step forth and begin to walk. The beans quivered, and squash clattered together. All were filled with life and motion for that brief instant that the ring of power passed through them. Then they fell still and silent once more after it had passed.

Teresa watched as the wave approached her, eyes wide with wonder. Was this really happening? she wondered, or was she imagining it all? Olava's words from the morning came back to her ears. "Not simply my blood, but Mara's blood. It's the source of all life." Her heart raced in her chest, but not from fear. Rather she waited with breathless anticipation as the wave rolled toward her.

The ground flowed over her feet, and the leaves of the squash caressed her leather-clad ankles. Teresa felt something within her answer the call of the soil and plants. It was a cramp, deep down within her pelvis. It was not painful, but she could definitely feel it roil and churn within her abdomen. It felt warm, and spread across her frame like a cleansing wave. The wood elf closed her eyes and simply floated away on the feeling, letting the rest of the world slip away.

When she opened her eyes once more, she heard Olava's voice again. "The circle is open," the Nord proclaimed, "but never broken. Merry meet, and merry part, until merry we meet once more. For we are the people, the power, and the change. So mote it be!"

Now the farmers were breaking up, and immediately spread across the fields to begin picking the corn, squash, and beans. Teresa saw Olava embrace young Drusilla, and say something in the young girl's ear too quiet to hear. The youthful Nibenean giggled then, and then joined the other villagers in their work.

"So what did you think of your first fertility rite?" Olava asked as Teresa came up to her.

Teresa found she could not contain the blush that blossomed from her cheeks. She found herself staring down at her waist, where she knew the blood was flowing within her. "That was incredible," she began, and went on to breathlessly explain all she had seen as they walked back to the cart.

"You saw all of that?" the Nord cocked an eyebrow as she regarded the wood elf. "And you felt it too? Then you are blessed by Mara indeed."

"What do you mean?"

"Most people, especially the men, do not see more than a rustle of leaves or shake in the corn stalks," the priestess explained. "Like a wind had picked up. Usually it is the women who sense more, especially those like you and I, who are flowing. But even they rarely see me become the goddess with their own eyes."

"You mean that wasn't just my imagination?" Teresa stared at the other woman.

Olava shrugged. "What do you think?" was all she would say. Then the Nord was climbing up to the seat of their cart. "Come on, we have a lot more villages to get to, and not much time to do it in."


Notes: We are the Circle is a common Neo-Pagan chant, often used in festivals.

The ceremony is inspired by those found in Neo-Paganism, albeit shortened for brevity. Olava's invocation is based upon the Charge of the Goddess - originally by Doreen Valiente, and often adapted by others before I did the same to make it fit better into the ES universe.

A well written part. You managed to make the ritual very absorbing. Teresa's split attention between work and it was very well done and seved to highlight the important parts.

You're melding of Teresa's neo-pagan inspired spirituality with the more structured worship of the nine was an interesting mixture and really adds depth to the setting. It also raises interesting questions as to origin, at first I was tempted to think it was similar to the aspects of older religeon which have been swollowed by newer ones (easter/eostre for example) but seeing as the divines are as old as Nirn it is perhaps more of a case of parralel evolution? Does that then mean that there is a lot more of Teresa's spiritualistic (if I may use the word) approch she has not explored relating to other gods than those whose spheres she has come across? Even Talos?

It got me thinking anyway.

I quite simply loved this! I found it both natural and beautiful. You have fully blended Mara with nature. As I said before, no wonder our wood elves feel close to her! I am so glad you have portrayed Mara in such a way that for Teresa to love her is as natural as can be.

It was fascinating to see the ceremony of bringing the life blood of Mara to the land, and deeper understanding shared by the flowing sisters of Olava, Teresa and Drusilla. For a moment I thought perhaps Olava was going to ask Teresa to contribute to the goblet of life's blood!

Yes, Teresa has come a long way. Out here at this farmstead, she's the law! You have really provided a rather noble image to the guild of fighters that is both welcome and fits wonderfully within TF. And once again, we see the FG contracts dealing in barter instead of gold. I also like how you displayed that Teresa and her wagon of cargo was just a small portion of the pre-harvest ceremonies that required the entire FG and likely full chapel staff to support.

And I fully agree with Olava. Button is cute as a button!

Oh, I believe the female face is the force that brings life to the universe...what I said was in reference to Haute and Foxy's comments.

Squeamish - yes, I really am (truth). All I know is every 28 days something is gonna come out and I don't want my food growing in it, and I don't want men peeing in it to keep the deer out either - GAAAAH !!! This ends my years of being a vegan ... the only thing left is a strictly fish diet, lol.

*

All that said, your description of the ceremony was breathtaking! You brought the culture to life in a way only you could - AWESOME WRITE, SubRosa !!! Just Awesome !!!

Drusilla?

Being a fan of Jean Auel books myself (shame on me, I know, I don't care) I always love my mildly racy rituals. This one certainly delivered; trying that one today would definitely raise more than a few eyebrows. Your version of Mara actually seems to be quite similar to the Great Earth Mother in Earth's Children, actually. I can definitely envision her as such a figure.

Is that where you obtained the inspiration for these rituals and ceremonies? They are mighty similar to a few of the things I've seen happen in Auel's books, and I would be quite happy to see this continue if you do. Word of caution, though, don't get too involved the enjoyment of simple pleasures as Auel did, though. That's a road I'd rather you not walk.

Olen: You hit the nail right on the head concerning Teresa's spirituality. She has a lot more to explore and figure out, especially concerning the Nine. I figure that the worship of the Nine (or Eight depending on the time frame and place), and Bosmer Witchcraft evolved parallel. The main distinction I see between them is that the Imperial Cult only acknowledges the Nine. Where the Bosmer Witchcraft worships not only the Nine, but also all the other Aedra who were part of the creation of Nirn. That of course reduces the significance of the Nine greatly as they are just a few fish in a very big school, instead of having the spiritual ocean all to themselves. Teresa of course, still has a lot of this to figure out for herself.


Acadian: You touched on all the things I was looking to convey in this chapter. Mara's very important role as an agricultural deity, women's important role because she is a feminine deity (not to mention showing that unlike in IRL Western Society, female-centric things like menstruation are not devalued). As well as the standing of the FG in the community as a whole, and the nature of many of their contracts. Plus of course Button.


mALX: Well, Teresa is quite happy with a strictly fish diet...


Thomas Kaira: That is Drusilla indeed. "We're going to destroy the world, want to come?"

I have never read any of Jean Auel's books, although I did see the Clan of the Cave Bear film. My writing about spirituality is taken from my personal experiences. Like the saying goes: write what you know. However, I am not surprised that how I portrayed Mara would be similar to Auel's Earth Mother, as I am sure we are both drawing upon the same archetype.


Next: Previously Teresa observed her first harvest fertility ceremony. Next she earns her keep as Olava's bodyguard.


Chapter 33.4 - The Blessing

They continued north through the rest of the day and long into the night, stopping at every village along the way and performing the blessing. Olava woke them before dawn the next morning, and after a cold breakfast of bread and cheese, they continued on their rounds through the farming communities.

Teresa had never seen so many farmers or crops in her life. As much as she loved the feeling of Nirn coming alive during Olava's blessings, the wood elf was relieved when the priestess completed the final ritual and they were able to lie down to sleep. Magnus had long since slipped below the trees to the west by then, and the villagers had invited them to spend the night within their walls. Teresa was also thankful for that, as it meant she would not have to stand watch. Instead she rolled out her bedroll beside Button's feet, while the villagers labored under the light of the twin moons to bring in their crops.

Teresa's sleep was restless, and punctuated by visions of bears that stared at her with quiet, sad eyes. They seemed to want to tell her something, yet as much as she fumbled to understand, she came away only feeling more and more confused.

Teresa woke late the next morning to find the villagers still laboring in the fields, and thanked her stars that she was not a farmer. She found that Olava was already awake, and was in fact working beside the villagers. Much to her chagrin, Teresa found herself coaxed into helping by the living saint of Bravil. Under the Nord's tutelage, she learned to pick ears of corn, and spent the rest of the morning toiling with the others. Olava seemed to think it was fun, and led the Nibeneans in songs. Teresa wished she could be so cheerful, but the truth was that she would rather be picking mushrooms and roots in the forest any day.

It was not until noon had passed that the living saint stopped to take a brief lunch of cornbread biscuits and bean soup with the rest of the village. Teresa's back ached from the work, and she found that her pale skin had turned beet red under the Hearthfire sun, and was beaded with sweat. She imagined that the sun cream that Morcant had taught her to make must have worn off from her perspiration. So she was obliged to use her healing spell to cure the sunburn. She followed it with her Bloom spell, and was finally starting to feel like herself again when she and Olava climbed back aboard their cart and clattered onto the Green Road.

The wood elf saw that the paved road no longer continued north beyond the village. Rather it turned to the west, and vanished into the depths of the Great Forest. They did not follow it however, and instead headed south for Bravil. One mile slid by after another under the loud clopping of Button's hooves and rattle of the wheels. Teresa recognized each village as they went by: Sandybrook, Twin Elms, Long Hook, and many others. They passed numerous travelers gong south as they were, and Teresa wondered if they were going to Bravil for the tournament. Some walked on foot, but most rode in wagons or small carts such as their own, and even a few rode horses.

They had just passed the hamlet of Springtree when Teresa found herself thinking of her dreams again, and the bears within them. Had they indeed been trying to tell her something? Or were they just figments of her imagination? The more she pondered it, the more and more a dark, foreboding sensation lodged within her heart. Until finally she told Olava to halt, and leaped down from the cart before Button could even bring her hooves to a stop.

Drawing the bow from her back, she fished out a string and set it to the nocks. Staring at the emerald wall of trees to her right, she reached into the arrow bag at her right hip and set one of the mithril-pointed missiles to her bowstave.

"What is it?"Olava said, and Teresa could sense the edge of uncertainty in the other woman's voice. "Is something out there?"

"I don't know," Teresa murmured. She scanned the forest for long moments. Yet only birds and squirrels stared back at her from the ranks of tall oaks and cottonwoods. Stepping down the road, she passed Button, and turned to stare east. There tilled fields dotted with laboring farmers stretched on as far as the eye could see.

"Something is wrong."

"Are you sure?" Olava said, sounding more confident now. "This is the Green Road. Nothing ever happens here, not with all the villages."

"I know," Teresa agreed. With settlements all along the road, it was as safe as anyplace in Cyrodiil. Yet she could not shake the feeling of danger that had lodged within her heart. "I'm going to take the lead for a while. Just go slow, and watch for my signals."

Olava shrugged, and Teresa could plainly see that the Nord thought she was overreacting. Yet Button remained dutifully behind the wood elf as she strode down the cobblestoned road. They went on that way for long minutes, until finally the priestess spoke once more.

"Come on back up in the cart," she said. "In all the times I've been doing these blessings, nothing has ever happened."

"Until now," Teresa breathed. She stopped and thrust one hand out behind her, palm flattened outward, in the gesture to halt that Pappy had drilled into her. When the clomping of Button's hooves ceased, the elf scampered forward once more. Now she crouched low, and angled to the forested side of the road.

Digging into one of the pouches on her belt, Teresa drew forth a potion bottle. Pulling the cork out with her teeth and spitting it on the ground, she raised the bottle to her lips and drank deep. A ring of golden light fell around her, fading away into her body a moment later. At the same time she felt the magicka within her fairly buzz with excitement.

These combination potions really did work, Teresa thought as she slinked forward once more.

Laying in the middle of the road was a dark brown lump of fur. A big lump of fur. As Teresa's quiet feet drew her near, she recognized the massive body, four limbs, and the long muzzle that extended from its head. It was a grizzly bear. She stopped at the edge of the trees, staring at the gigantic predator, and realized that the afternoon breeze was blowing from her to the animal.

As if it was listening to her thoughts, the bear sniffed the air. It was a rough, deep sound, and Teresa could not prevent her heart from doubling its pace when it reached her ear. The forester knew that she was about to lose whatever advantage of surprise she might have. Standing up straight, she brought her bowstring halfway back to her cheek and sighted in on the animal.

The grizzly's head turned to face her. Teresa's eyes met those of the bear, and the wood elf lowered her bow. It was the same eyes as those in her dream!

Now Teresa could see that the brown fur of the bear's flank was stained and matted with dried blood. Two parallel lines ran diagonally across the predator's face, red with blood and buzzing with flies. The grizzly came about, and the wood elf could see more fresh wounds on one of her forelegs. For now she could see that the bear was indeed a female. The grizzly rose upon her hind legs, and it seemed to Teresa that she was the size of a house.

A loud, ragged bellow escaped from her bared fangs. Then the massive predator dropped to all fours again and limped forward, directly at Teresa. The anger in the bear's tone could not be mistaken. Yet the forester thought there had been something else in the grizzly's voice as well: pain, and a forlorn sadness.

The wood elf slid her arrow back into the bag at her hip. Little use that would be, she thought. Unless the bear reared again to expose her heart, all her arrows would do was anger her further. She knew that she could probably hit her massive head, but even with mithril points, the wood elf did not know if her arrows could pierce the thick skull of the great animal.

Not that she wanted to harm her at all. That was the last thing the forester wanted to do to any animal. Yet the grizzly would be upon her in seconds, and from the look in her dark eyes, Teresa doubted that the bear returned the feeling.

That is when she thought of her Bosmer power to command animals. Would it work on something as large as a grizzly? Did she have any other options? Fixing the image of the bear in her mind, now calm and sitting peacefully at her feet, Teresa summoned up the magicka within her.

The grizzly was only a few steps away when the wood elf unleashed a spiral of green energy into her. Teresa held her breath as the magicka ground down into the massive beast with a flash of jade light. Then the bear's hot breath was in her face. She closed her eyes and silently prayed to Raven that her power would work. Otherwise when she opened them again, it would be in her next life.

The bear made a low sound. Not a roar, but something more like a moan. Now Teresa did open her eyes, just in time to see the great creature sit down in front of her, and rest her head upon her forelegs.

It worked! Teresa silently exclaimed. Yet the faint smile that crossed her lips was short-lived. For now she could clearly see the wounds upon the bear's face. They seemed to be made from the fingers of a hand, at least three times the size of her own and bearing what must have been razor sharp claws. Looking down at the grizzly's flank, she saw another set of those long claw wounds. Finally, there was a third wound upon one of her forelegs, this one different, bearing a semicircle of punctures. Like the bite of an overly large elf or human. Yet with fangs instead of normal teeth.

No wonder she was so angry and sad! Teresa bit her lower lip. The poor animal was clearly in terrible pain from her wounds, which were already attracting insects. She tried to shoo away the pests, but to no avail. The flies simply swarmed around her hand only to settle once more upon the exposed flesh of the bear.

Teresa knew she had to help the grizzly. She could not leave her in pain. Especially not in the middle of the Green Road! It would only be a matter of time before someone else came upon her, and that meeting would end in death. That the Bosmer knew as surely as she did that the sun would set in a few hours.

Screenshot

Below is from the last episode, I meant to quote it in my comment but lost track of it in the living depiction of the ceremony that left me awestruck. This little gesture was such a perfect little detail to slip in, so easily visualized in the readers mind - and one of the many little mannerisms and gestures that make Teresa so endearing.





In this episode - I would have to quote from the paragraph that begins "They had just passed the hamlet of Springtree" - all the way to the last word.

I was riveted and holding my breath through that whole section - powerful, POWERFUL WRITE !!! I don't know how you got the screenie - but it was a perfect addition as well - HUGE, SubRosa.

I agree with mALX, that screenie is brilliant.

I liked some of Teresa's thoughts in this part. For all she thought the farmers had a good simple life she now sees how hard work and dull it is.

Then the bear. I wonder where those visions came from, and what she'll do about the bear. I can think of a simple solution... but I don't think she'd agree.


I want that spell.

Again this chapter offers a suprise though. First the rather more interesting and down to nirn pristess then she doesn't have to fight the monster... I like it.

One thing did jar a little: She tried to shoo away the disgusting pests - in the midst of her feeling sorry for one animal she's hating another. It might be deliberate to show that she isn't equal with all creatures and that she has some way to go, but it struck me as odd.

What will Teresa do next?

I know what I would do! But that's me.

I missed two chapters this weekend?

Chapter 33.3

I’m curious, is Mara the only deity with a living saint manifested on Nirn? I know the game sees things that way, but you have created a mythology beyond what the game presents. Will you install Trevaia as Dibella’s living saint in Anvil?

Given that the ritual affected her in such a profound way, I think it might be interesting for Teresa to encounter Ama Nin at some point during her travels.

Chapter 33.4

Remind me to stay out of Bravil during Hearthfire! Between the harvest and the tournament Teresa must be having visions of growing up amid the hustle and crush of the Waterfront. And she shows that she is not completely open to giving her life over to the worship of Mara . . . what Olava sees as fun looks a bit too much like work for Teresa’s taste.

And why is it that I am getting a definite Androcles vibe from Teresa’s interaction with the bear?

A couple of small nits:

Since the word ‘noon’ is derived from the Latin nona hora (ninth hour) you might want to replace it with ‘mid-day’ to better reflect the Elder Scrolls universe.


You might consider adding she here.

Errandil is the living saint of Arkay. Couldn't find any others via wiki (yes, I was curious as well).

'Teresa wished she could be so cheerful, but the truth was that she would rather be picking mushrooms and roots in the forest any day.'
And here we have the perspective of the wood nymph vs that of the dirt farmer illustrated perfectly! Fortunately, Mara loves 'shrooms and roots as much as she does beans and corn.

And the traffic heading south to Bravil serves as another foreshadow of the tournament!

What a magnificent job you did allowing us to feel and see everything Teresa did with the bear encounter. There is much more at work here than Teresa's Bosmeri calm animals ability. I can't wait to learn how much more. It's gonna take an awful lot of healing to fix such a massive and majestic animal, but somehow I know Teresa's gonna try.

Oh noes! By the looks of that bear, the Ancient's lackeys are catching up with with Dere! Either that, or Drusilla has been rather busy over the last few nights. Some say she is capable of killing the Chosen of Azura with naught but her fingernails, after all (watch out, Buffy)!

Looks like this year's harvest is not going to be going completely as planned, that's all I can tell. But first thing's first, we have a bear to mend. I hope it doesn't mind, or Teresa might find her head facing the wrong way round after her spine has been shattered in three places. I don't think even TES magic can fix those.

From 33.2, I love your lush depiction of Olava. It suits the role you’ve given her perfectly. I always thought she looked a bit too down-to-nirn in the game to spend her time loitering in the chapel. The appearance of the Three Sisters delighted me! It made me think of tidewater Virginia, my own inspiration for Bravil. Olava’s mention of her blood being transfigured into Mara’s made me think of another option for the Blood of the Divines quest!

In 33.3 Olava’s recollection of Button’s birth reminds us that motherhood is a messy business right from the start. It makes sense that Mara’s living saint would wear dirt-stained wool, not flowing white chiffon.

I love that Teresa finally gets bored with crops. It’s why I think some folks turn to banditry, they just can’t face another harvest season! The bear mystery is intriguing. Her dream had to come from somewhere. I wonder what could do that to a bear. A daedroth? I’ll wait and see.

mALX: That screenshot was not very difficult. I just summoned the bear, and used a pose mod to get Teresa in that stance (I think it is the Activate Low animation from the game).


Olen: Teresa does not like work! It comes from growing up on the streets. The whole idea of spending all day toiling away is as alien to her as it is dreadful. Of course she does not see her workouts at the guild, or harvesting of alchemy as work...

It is true that Teresa is not equal in her love of all creatures. She would happily hurt a fly! Not to mention mudcrabs. I did take out the disgusting though.

One of the things that I find gets very dull, very quickly in many fan fics is the need that new authors often feel to have a battle every post. It turns into the monster of the week. T.v. shows often get the same way. So most of the time I try to create conflict in ways other than battles to the death. Then when those do happen, I hope they have more impact, because of their rarity.


haute ecole rider: You would call Animal Control?


Destri Melarg: In the TF, all the major chapels, and probably some of the minor ones, would have a living saint. I thought they all did in the game. I knew about the guy in Cheydinhal, and of course Olava. So I just figured the others had one too.

Who knows, Teresa might meet Ama Nin in the future. I have something similar in mind already.

I did want the she there. But if noon does stem from latin, then I think it works even better, since that is basically what I am using for Cyrodiilic anyhow.


ghastley: I looked too, and that was all I found. I wonder why they only put the two living saints in the game, and not one for each city?


Acadian: We are going to see exactly what forces are at work this segment, and it won't be beans and corn!


Thomas Kaira: Perhaps William the Bloody is in town as well? Buffy may have conjured him up...


Grits: Transfiguration is a key element to all sacrifices. The word sacrifice itself means "to make sacred" in Latin. The act of sacrificing someone or something transforms it into the divine. The ceremony itself (really all religious rites) is a divine play, recreating some event from the mythology of the religion. The congregation becomes a part of the play, and the sacrifice becomes the divine actor. For example, in Catholic communion, wine and a cracker are sacrificed, and the act transfigures them into the blood and flesh of Christ. The penitent then consumes them, acting out the same role as the Apostles at the Last Supper. By taking communion, one is not only re-enacting the event, but reliving it and making it happen all over again.

We will see exactly what did that to our poor bear this segment.


Next: In our previous episode, Teresa and Olava finished the last of their blessings, and began the trip back to Bravil. But they encountered a wounded grizzly on the road, which Teresa used her Bosmer power to command animals upon to placate. Now in the final episode of Chapter 33, Teresa must find some way to rescue the poor animal.


Chapter 33.5 - The Blessing

Teresa dug into one of her belt pouches and drew forth a bottle filled with pink liquid. Its glass surface was emblazoned with the upraised image of twin serpents coiled around a central staff, and Teresa pulled its cork free and knelt down before the bear.

"Now how do I get you to drink?" Teresa wondered aloud. Putting the bottle in front of the bear's muzzle, she felt her heart sink as the grizzly wrinkled her nose and turned away. Once again Teresa moved the bottle in front of the animal, but again she swayed her head in the other direction.

"Oh they don't really taste that bad!" Teresa insisted, remembering Pappy's words in the alchemy lab a few days before. The forester sighed, staring down at the poor, wounded animal. She knew that there was no way she could force the bear to drink. The grizzly had to be six times her weight, and was strong enough to throw her all the way back to Bravil if she wanted to.

Staring at the long red marks that cut through the bear's fur, an idea blossomed within the wood elf's brain. Stretching out one hand to stroke the uninjured side of the animal's head, she held the potion over the wounds on the other side, and carefully poured. The pink liquid dripped into the raw cuts, and a moment later white light grew from the rent flesh of the forest giant. Teresa's heart leaped, and she continued to pour, until the entire contents had spilled into the bear's wounds.

The bear made another moan then, and lifted her head to once again gaze upon the wood elf. Again, Teresa was struck by the sadness in the predator's eyes, and she once again bit her lip in empathy for the poor beast.

"Don't worry girl," she breathed, "I'll take your pain away. I promise."

The wounds on the bear's head faded to nothing but old, upraised scars after a second healing potion. Then Teresa moved to the wounds on her flank, and used three more potions before they too faded away to a memory.

Staring at the bite upon the grizzly's foreleg, Teresa's heart sank. That was the last of her potions. Frantically digging into her Thieves Bag, she could find no more ingredients to make another with. She had used them all up to brew healing draughts for the rest of the guild. Now she had nothing left for the bear.

Teresa fell to her knees, and once more heard the bear keening sadly in her ears. The wood elf felt the grizzly's muzzle fall heavily upon her lap. As if they had a mind of their own, her hands moved to stroke the bear's stained and dirty fur.

If only there was something else she could do! If only she had not used up all of her lavender and cairn bolete! If only, if only, if only… Teresa closed her eyes in defeat. She knew it was no accident that she had dreamed of the bear the night before, and no accident that she had been the first mortal to come upon her in the road. She was here for a reason, and that reason was to help the bear. To protect her, and to protect those who would come upon her in her wounded and angered state. Yet she had failed.

If only she could heal the bear in the same way that she could herself. If she could just send her magicka into the animal, and take away her pain. If only she was a better magician. If only…

Teresa felt a tear break free from her eye and roll down her cheek.

Then she felt something behind her. Something large and warm, looming over hear like a vast shadow. She raised her head, but did not turn. A moment later she felt hot breath falling upon her neck, and then soft fur enfolding her back. Looking down, she found that her arms were covered in a curly brown pelt, tipped with tiny flecks of silver. Just like that of the grizzly. She sniffed the air, not a soft sound, but a low noise that emanated from deep within the long muzzle that extended from her face.

Reaching out one clawed paw, Teresa set it upon the bloody foreleg of the other bear. She could feel the bear's heart beat in her ears, and the grizzly's breath fill her lungs. Teresa felt the pain of the wound on the bear's arm. It was a deep, piercing flame that shot through her body. Yet it was nothing compared to the empty pit within her heart.

Teresa pictured the bear in her mind. Not in pain, but happy and carefree. The bright summer sun kissed her muzzle, while butterflies flitted about, and the water of the Larsius rolled past at her feet. The brown fur of her hide was soft and smooth - neither marred by injury or stained with blood- and she stepped along the riverbank with confidence and ease.

The forester let her magicka flow through that image, down her arm, and into the bear. She saw the terrible bite wound shrink, but not vanish. Again she released her magicka, and again. Until finally her last reservoir of the energy was spent, even with its potion-amplified strength.

Teresa blinked. She was an elf once more, sitting in front of the bear, who was now hale and hearty. The predator's open maw gaped before her eyes. Yet she did not flinch, and a moment later she felt the grizzly's wet tongue slide over her features. Teresa closed her eyes - and more importantly her mouth - as the great predator licked her face and then her hair.

She could not restrain the giggle that escaped her lips when she finally rose to her feet. The bear now stood on all fours before her, and Teresa motioned for her to follow as she stepped to the side of the road. Her eyes picked out the broken, bloody twigs that marked the bear's passage, and set her feet to that path.

Teresa could feel the hot breath of the bear on her back as she plunged into the Great Forest. By Raven, she could barely believe it was true! She had healed not herself, but another. She had thought that impossible for her to do. Not only that, it had all been without being taught the spell! The knowledge of how to do so had just come upon her.

No, it had not, Teresa realized a moment later. She had been taught. Just not by another mortal. She knew from her experiences in her Astral Temple that she had not been alone. It was a spirit guide that had been with her. That had shown her. But it had not been Raven. It was another. One with brown fur, a long muzzle, massive arms and dark claws. Exactly like the bear she had healed.

It had been Bear. Not only with her then, but in her dreams the night before.

With that she recalled something Morcant had said months before: "You might find a different spirit-guide coming to you every time you go down a new path. They may not be the guides that you expected, or wanted, but they are always what you need."

So just as Raven was a guardian for those who journeyed through dark places and change in their lives, Teresa mused, Bear was a healer. Yesterday she never would have imagined that a bear would be a symbol of healing. Yet now she could not imagine any other. It just felt, right. As right as the magicka that had flowed through her veins and into the grizzly that now dogged her heels.

Teresa came to a halt roughly half a mile from the road. She smelled blood in the air. Strong, sweet, and coppery. Looking around she saw broken branches to one side, and stepped off in that direction. A dozen paces later she stopped once more, staring down at the huge body laying torn and limp between the trees.

It was shaped like an elf, with two arm and legs. But there the similarities ended. Its muscular body was covered in dark green fur that was flecked with black. Its arms were over-sized, and ended with curved digits that looked like they were made of bone, or horn. Yet a closer look showed that they were jointed, like fingers. Its head looked like the drawings she had seen of the apes said to live in Valenwood. Yet it bore three black eyes, and its distended jaw was packed with dagger-like fangs.

A troll, Teresa thought. For what else could such a monster be?

The creature's head was twisted backwards upon its torso, and it body was torn open and bathed in black blood. A glance back at the grizzly trailing her gave Teresa the answer to how that had happened. One swat from the bear's paw could have easily snapped its neck, and she had no doubt as to what her fangs and claws could do. She had seen that up close during the Oblivion Crisis. There was no more deadly animal on Nirn than an enraged grizzly.

Stepping past the dead troll, Teresa found the reason for that rage, and her heart broke like crystal under a hammer. Laying silent and still in the bloody leaves were two small bears, no more than cubs. One's head was missing, and the other's belly was torn open. Among them lay more of the trolls, their bodies ripped asunder. She felt her heart lurch at the sight, and turned away. Now she understood the sadness in the bear's eyes, and that empty, forlorn feeling deep inside her. She had seen her children die, and had been unable to protect them. A mother's worst nightmare.

"I am so sorry." Teresa bit her lip, and laid a gentle hand upon the bear's shoulder. "I wish I could take this away too."

The bear moaned plaintively as she stared at the dead cubs. But she walked on at Teresa's promptings. The wood elf led her silently into the depths of the forest, until finally the terrible scene faded into the past.

Well, no worries then.

I imagine that the story of Teresa and the Bear could be a fable to help the children of Valenwood come to know their spirit guides. Teresa overcomes her fear through an overwhelming need to help another, and in so doing it is that other that serves as the vessel through which Teresa gains knowledge of herself. The image of the bear as healer seems perfect for a race of people as bound to the land as the Bosmer in the TF. It sets the mind to wonder: What other spirit guides are out there waiting for Teresa to discover them? And, more importantly, does this mean that she can shift into bear form now?

It's very appropriate that Bear come to Teresa as her new spirit guide, after she had called one up during the great battle of the Crisis in the shop.

I might be confused a little, but I believe the Bear is considered a healing spirit among the Native Americans as well. Makes me wonder how far back that goes - to the time of the cave bears? There's archaeological evidence that cave bears and humans shared the same caves, though not necessarily simultaneously. Likely just that both recognized the space as being appropriate for each to hibernate in or perform sacred rituals or spend the night in.

Me, I wouldn't have called Animal Control! I would have healed the bear myself! I used to volunteer in wildlife rehab years ago, and have loved it (and miss it now).

I knew there were dead cubs somewhere. Only reason for the she-grizz to be so pissed off and sad at the same time. Considering how much time and energy they invest into those rug rats, no wonder she was lashing out at anything and anyone.

This was powerful, poignant and spiritual all at the same time. Masterfully done!

And another spirit guide! I look forward to the possibility that someday, Teresa will be able to ask the spirits of the forest to magically appear and provide assistance to the red-headed elf.

'Teresa closed her eyes - and more importantly her mouth - as the great predator licked her face and then her hair.'
I loved this. It is not exactly being sniffed by a dragon (Destri, I'm lookin' at you), but it is pretty close and just about as memorable!

'She could not restrain the giggle that escaped her lips when she finally rose to her feet.'
Such a rare and welcome delight from our Teresa, of the Faint Smile.

'Stepping past the dead troll, Teresa found the reason for that rage, and her heart broke like crystal under a hammer.'
Beyond the beauty of your TES friendly metaphor, my heart surely broke too.

Now I must strongly concur with Destri that this episode is no doubt fertile ground for the stuff of legend. I see the story of 'Teresa and the bear' being passed down from generation to generation of wood elves.

Nit: 'There was no more deadly animal on Nirn that an enraged grizzly.'
I'm sure you wanted 'than' instead of 'that'.

This harkens to the search for a certain White Guar back east for me, or rather a hunt for the friendly beast back in Solstheim. I would certainly place this into the realms of Tamrielic Myths, and I certainly would not say no to seeing it featured in a future TES title as a misc. book! I wonder of Bethesda looks to their fan-fic writers for inspiration from time to time for the books they place into the game? If so, we should make sure they know of our haven here. There is much good to be found here, from Buffy the Shopaholic to Teresa the empathetic woods-woman to the Interregnum.

Unfortunately, I'm not sure Bethesda would take this segment, as the story of the Friendly Beast (Story of Aevar Stone-Singer, Ritual of the Gifts, Beast Ritual) we found in Bloodmoon is too much like this snippet of 'Rosa's quill. So similar, in fact, there might be some inspiration occurring here....

Also, if you would know, the Cave Bear was considered by many to be a most sacred animal in prehistoric times, particularly among the Neanderthals (at least if Jean Auel is to be believed). The bear was certainly revered among Native Americans, but its legacy stretches so far back it is an iconic symbol of power and free spirit throughout the world. A very fitting choice of symbolism here, if you ask me.

Destri Melarg: Could Teresa someday be part of Aesopinor's Fables? Oh my! You have hit the nail right on the head, as usual. Teresa's empathy for the bear is what called her new spirit guide to her, and fueled her learning a new spell to heal others.


haute ecole rider: Bear is indeed a healing spirit, among other things. The cirumpolar Cave Bear Cult is the oldest known evidence of human & neanderthal religion. The cave bear skulls found in caves were carefully arranged, not haphazardly strewn about as if from natural deaths, or discarded after being eaten by humans. Some claim that because the skulls are only found in the caves means that the cult did not exist. But they are missing one important thing. Those caves were not used by early humans as homes, but rather as religious sites. That is the reason for things like the bear skulls, and the wall paintings of humans and animals. Joesph Campbell goes into this at length in The Way of the Animal Powers.


Acadian: Perhaps in the future, Teresa will not even have to use magic to gain help from the creatures of the forest... Being licked by the bear is certainly memorable enough for Teresa! She will pass on the dragon. And I did want than.


Thomas Kaira: I can honestly say that nothing in any of the ES games inspired Teresa's encounter with the bear. I had many reasons for using a bear as the particular animal. Some will not become clear until several more chapters. But others I can mention are simply that I like bears, always have. I have also established Bravil as being grizzly bear country. So they are the top-tier predators, the most powerful animal Teresa is going to run across (not counting magical monsters like will-o-the-wisps and such of course). Plus, since that scene was meant to bring out Teresa's bond with Bear the spirit guide, it felt only natural for it to be to in aid of an actual bear. Perhaps most importantly however, that scene reinforces how Teresa feels about the animals of the forest, and the lengths she will go to on their behalf.


Next: Our previous chapter saw Teresa acting as a bodyguard for Olava the Fair as she performed harvest blessings in the villages north of Bravil. In the process she learned more of the spirituality of farmers, and of Mara as a corn goddess. She also found her second spirit guide - Bear - who taught her how to heal others when Teresa found a wounded bear in the Green Road and rescued her. Out next episode begins a new chapter. It moves forward a week, and finds Teresa in the mountains along the border of Cyrodiil and Elsweyr. Clocking in at over 37,000 words, this will be my largest chapter ever.


Chapter 34.1 - The Tournament Of Archers

27th Hearthfire - 3rd Frostfall, 3E433

Teresa stepped into a break in the fir trees that dotted the peak of the Cligmande's Dome. Looking down the slope of the mountain, she found that the trees quickly gave way to short, rugged scrub brush. Soon even that too disappeared, until the ground evened out over a mile below and stretched away to the west. Jagged hills of barren rock thrust themselves in a chaotic fashion across the plain, with scattered bunches of pale grass stubbornly clinging to life between them. The barren land stretched on to the horizon, with no sign of roads, settlements, or other marks of a mortal hand.

So that is Elsweyr, Teresa thought with a sigh. It was so barren, yet so beautiful. Someday her feet would wander those paths…

Yet that was not today, the Bosmer thought. Turning to the east, she strode into the enveloping arms of the firs that graced the highest reaches of the mountain. She stopped when the ground began to slope down beneath her feet, and stepped up to the nearest tree.

Pulling off one of her leather gauntlets, Teresa set her bare hand upon the grey-brown bark of the tree. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, feeling the wood against her skin. The bark was firm under her hand, and the fir's branches creaked above her in the wind. The rest of the world slowly faded away, until there was nothing but her and the tree.

Teresa felt what the tree did. Her roots sunk deeply into the rocky soil of the mountain, soaking up cool water. The refreshing drink spread through her body within the sap that flowed through her frame. The wind caressed the needles that grew from her many branches, and shook the seed cones that graced her limbs. A pair or thrushes hopped from her upper branches, adding more twigs to their nest. While far below an elf stretched out her hand to touch the base of her trunk…

Teresa stepped away from the tree and gingerly opened her eyes. Even under the cloudy sky, the light was painfully bright. How long had she been with the tree? A few minutes? A few hours? She had no idea.

"Thank you for sharing that friend." The wood elf smiled faintly at the rising form of the conifer.

When finally her eyes adjusted to the noon-day sun, Teresa stepped into motion once more. Skirting the crest of the peak, she walked until she found another opening in the trees, this one facing east. The Nibenay Valley stretched out beneath her eyes. A rolling tide of green tumbled down the slope of the mountain. First conifers such as the firs among which she stood, then spruces, and finally broad-leaved cottonwoods, oaks, and maples far below. To her left the Larsius sliced down the mountains, a vein of silver flowing into the vast expanse of Niben Bay. Setting her eyes upon where the river met the lake, Teresa could see Bravil, little more than a dark grey jumble at the edge of the endless blue of the Niben.

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Tadrose Helas was down there somewhere, she thought. Probably working in her forge. The dark elf hardly ever seemed to emerge from her underworld of fire and metal. Teresa wished the vice-commander had accompanied her up into the mountains west of the city. If only she had asked the Dunmer in the first place…

Could have, would have, should have, Teresa thought. Someday she was going to work up the nerve to learn just how much the dark elf truly liked her. Even if that meant losing her forever if the other woman was not as sapphic as she prayed.

Gods, why did romance have to be so treacherous? Teresa sighed. Shooting Daedra was easy, following what was in her heart was another matter entirely. How did people like Nerussa do it? Or Pappy and Chance?

They have nothing to lose, her thoughts answered. As Simplicia would have said, they were following their loins, not their hearts. Perhaps she should do the same. Just forget Tadrose, and enjoy the pleasures of women such as the bright-eyed publican of the Wawnet Inn.

Forget Tadrose? The Bosmer shook her head. May as well forget eating, she thought. Sooner or later there was no ignoring either. More likely sooner with the vice-commander…

The smoldering eyes and dusky skin of the dark elf filled the thoughts of the Bosmer as her feet took her down the eastern side of the mountain. She came across elk, wild sheep, and even a bear as she wended her way down. The latter gave her a long stare, as if he remembered her from some past meeting. Yet Teresa was certain she would have recalled the grizzly if she had seen him before. Animals were no more difficult to distinguish from one another than people were after all, she mused.

The canopy of the trees blotted out the greying skies overhead, and by the time the ground leveled out under the elf's feet, tiny droplets of water had already begun to fall upon her head. The rain increased to a steady drumming on the roof of the trees overhead. Teresa did not mind however. The Jewel of the Rumare kept her leather armor dry, and the feeling of the rain upon the pale skin of her face was like the playful fingers of Kynareth herself.

She continued on for the rest of the day, gathering samples of lavender, nightshade, and mandrake as she went. It was long after dark when she stopped to roll out her bedroll under the leaves of an oak, and she drifted off into a sleep filled with dreams of bears and a female dark elf.

It was still raining when she awoke the next morning. The clouds made telling directions difficult. So she found a stream and followed it, knowing that it would eventually empty into the Niben. Here and there she would pause to watch the deer, squirrels, raccoons, and other animals go about their lives. Then she would move on again, gathering more plants as she went.

Another day passed before the forest turned into tilled fields and pastures. Working her way through the cropland between two farming villages, Teresa came upon the hard stones of the Green Road. The forester looked to her left. She knew that Silverbridge was somewhere in that direction, as well as Bravil. Turning her eyes south, she wondered how many days walk it was to Leyawiin? Or just to Bawn?

The forester looked back to the north, thinking of the crimson eyes of Tadrose Helas. The next thing she knew, her feet were taking her across the road, and into the wide meadows that bordered Niben Bay. Soon the waters of the great lake were lapping at her boots, and Teresa stared across its blue expanse, to where she imagined Bravil lay across the horizon.

That is when she noticed that the rain had stopped. The clouds opened, and the rays of Magnus streamed forth to create a rainbow in the sky above the surface of the water. With more than a faint smile, the wood elf stepped into the lake and began to swim.


btw. Cligmande's Dome is inspired by a RL mountain in the Eastern U.S. Can anyone guess which one?

And quite the enjoyable interlude this has been!

I loved the description of the landscape west of Bravil, and the brief glimpse into Elsweyr. Quite the barren place, but even barren places hold some kind of life.

Joseph Campbell is quite the scholar of mythology and archetypes. I'm going to have to revisit his writings. I've only read a couple of his books, and would love to read more. His insights are amazing. I quite enjoyed the Smithsonian exhibit of Star Wars and the Power of Myth - it interpreted the original Star Wars trilogy in terms of Campbell's archetypes and made me even more aware of my own use of the same in my fiction.

I really enjoyed Teresa's experience of the conifer tree. They are some of my favorite trees (along with oaks and maples) simply because I grew up with them. A neighbor down the road from my family home has a blue spruce that has grown to the impressive height of about sixty feet. It is quite easily the equal of any of the old oaks that grow in that neighborhood. And I'm not the only one that is impressed by the conifers. Frank Lloyd Wright admired them, especially for their ability to withstand high winds. He knew it was because such trees tend to have a single tap root that reaches deep into the ground and serves as an anchor for the green mass above. He used that same principle in his buildings, and it can especially be seen in Fallingwater.

Oh, and what a wonderfully evocative screenie! I loved the misty environment, especially as today it is raining as I type this.