Chapter 2c review

I can understand how writing these scenes would feel restricting, but you did an excellent job. Your descriptions of everything and the added dialogue is wonderful.


"It is our choices in life that define us," he said. "Everything we do, or do not do, makes us what we are, makes the world what it is. Some people choose poorly. Some choose to be something better. Your choices lie ahead of you, starting this night. You will have to live with them for the rest of your days. So make them wisely."

Teresa had heard much the same before, from the priestesses and priests of the Nine when they made their monthly tour of the Waterfront shantytown to save the souls of proles like herself. Yet where they always sounded like pompous hypocrites, every word the Emperor said struck home deeply within her. Somehow because he said it, something within her knew that it was all true.

This was beautiful. It is something that hits home with me.


Something happened to Teresa then, which had never happened before. Looking from the dead body of the Emperor to the assassin who had claimed his life, her terror washed away. Replacing it was something in her heart that was dark, cold, and furious.

Without thinking she picked up the sword from beside the Emperor's body and rose to meet his killer.

This was excellent. I loved it.


Its hard blade pierced her palm straight through and stuck tight in her bones.

Well written--but, oh, it made me cringe!


The assassin crumpled in a heap beside the Emperor, his armor and dagger vanishing in a swirl of blue light. With an effort Teresa pulled the sword from his body and stabbed him again and again, thinking nothing of her wound, or of anything else in the world. She heard a woman shrieking, and it was not until Baurus pulled the sword from her hand and lifted her to her feet that she realized it was her.

This was great. The rage that consumed her, having never felt it before, and then realizing it was her own shrieking voice she heard... It was awesome.


Concentrating upon the healing spell she had learned so long ago, she drew her magicka up from within her. She pictured her hand, not torn and bloody as it was now, but rather whole and unharmed.

I like the way you described this whole paragraph of Teresa healing herself. It was a great way to describe the power of healing with magicka that makes it more believable, and really explains how such a power is even possible. She had to envision it for the magicka to do its job--it makes it seem more truly like something you have to work on--not just clicking the right button. Excellent.

Hmmm a very orcy part.


This made me chuckle.


Ancondil's proposition of communal nourishment from a culinary effectation using such articulation propounds his character as the plausible antithesis of Lum...

Indeed for all we have orcs galore it seems they are all rather different. One is culturally an altmer, one is, as far as we know, a drunk and rude and the other is Lum. First impressions weren't good but I rather like him. Anyone too manly for shirts has to be interesting.

I also wonder if their meeting might be equally fun.

What a contrast between the dashing Ancondil, the boorish Kurz, and the underdressed but diplomatic Lum. Teresa’s anger management is clearly still an issue for her. I’m glad the gro-Baroth boys ticked her off, it shows us how she’s still growing. How fun to see Teresa confirm Daenlin’s assessment of her intuitive shooting! The crossover with Buffy’s world is such a delight.

"Well good thing you did, else I would be flatter than pita bread!"
Teresa is getting pretty quick with the snappy comebacks!!

Chapter 3a

I like how you went into great detail in the sewers, describing what a sewer would really be like—the muck and sludge, the dirty water that would empty into the lake. It made me realize things I didn’t really think about when playing the game and going through the sewers. For one thing—eww, I’m in a sewer, walking through water that’s probably filled with things I’d rather not think about—and no, it’s not the mudcrabs. Also, if that water empties out into Lake Rumare—hmm, maybe I don’t want to go swimming there while on vacation, after all.

I really liked the part where Teresa slipped on the muck—adds to the realism and reminds us that she’s not invincible. She is, after all, a stringy Bosmer.

This is a rather small point, but I also wanted to point out that I like how you mentioned Methredhel. She was always one of my favorite characters in the game...


Chapter 3b

The skin of her left arm ached where the bowstring had rubbed against it with every shot, and her fingers throbbed in pain from releasing it with her bare hands. That was what she got for using a bow without an arm bracer and a shooting glove, she thought.
Again, the realism is clear in these statements. And it reminds me of something I had forgotten about archery—the bowstring rubbing against your bare arm and the soreness of your fingers. I haven’t shot a bow since high-school, though I love archery, and I forgot about that whole thing. I am glad you put this in, because it reminded me of something rather important, especially when parts of Syl’s story involve the usage of bows and arrows.

I also love the sort of frailty here—she’s young and so innocent, and fighting goblins in the sewers is not something she’s even slightly used to. We are well reminded of that here—you did an excellent job really bringing that home to us.

Looking over his boots, she shook her head when she realized that both of her feet could fit into one of them, and left them behind.

Her head spun. She was a nobody, she thought, a prole; just an orphan from the slum with no past and no future. Yet here she was alive and well, after fighting and killing an assassin and then three goblins all on her own. A curious sensation filled her chest. It was warm, comforting, and made her stand a little straighter. It was something she had never felt before, and it took a while for her to understand what it was. It was pride, she finally realized as a faint smile came to her lips. For the first time in her life, she felt truly proud of herself.
I loved this.^^ and then: The smell of feces interrupted her chain of thought however. Proud or not, she was still in a sewer. It was time to go. This made me laugh.

[…]she suddenly felt pleased with herself for being such a professional sneak, even if it was completely by accident.

the night sky around it glittered with a thousand silver stars Did she actually stand there and count? (I'm sorry, I had to...)

Her sack cloth breeches and shirt followed, until finally she stood naked in the lake and let her body sink into the cool embrace of the water. Ahhh, sounds refreshing.

And I just have one question concerning the goggles and the thief’s body—is that part of a mod you have? Sounds pretty cool.

haute ecole rider: Like Teresa's faint smile, being too sexy for a shirt is Lum's signature, I could not leave it out! I skipped over Ancondil's dinner, as it was not important to the story. This chapter is already nearly 38k words, so I have been trying to keep it as tight as possible. I did go back and add in a little to show that Teresa was making it in the kitchen though.


mALX: I do not really plan on ever releasing that mod. I made it when I first started modding, and has a lot of mistakes, and changes a huge amount of things. Maybe someday I will get around to doing it over again, and make it in smaller modules.


Acadian: Nits be picked. Ancondil is always fun to write. Teresa certainly cannot help but to adore him. Kurz and Lum on the other hand, she is not so thrilled with. Although at least she is warming up to Lum.


Lady Syl: Restarting the story here at Chorrol really helped me improve those early chapters you are reading now. Technically, they were always the weakest part of the TF. So I focused a lot of attention on editing them before posting here. I am glad they are working now.

The Emperor's soliloquy is really the only reason I decided to have Teresa be there for his death and the beginning of the Main Quest. He changes Teresa forever, and will always be a guiding star in her life. Without him, she probably would have remained a street urchin for the rest of her life. So while Teresa will not be following the main quest, meeting him was a very key event in her life.

The use of magic has always been easy to write. I just write it as I know it from IRL. Granted I have to make a few changes to fit the nature of the ES universe.

The proud or not, I'm still in a sewer line was one of my favorites of the TF. It does such a wonderful job of keeping Teresa down to earth and accessible.

The goggles are from this mod. I took it and further modded it to remove the Detect Life option, and later also changed the mesh to the goggles from this mod. I not only like how the second one looks better, but it also adds a version you can wear pushed back up on your forehead, like this. Putting them on the dead thief's body was purely my invention, as I wanted Teresa to have a way to see in the dark, and it dovetailed nicely into creating an encounter in the sewers.


Olen: I had not really thought of it until you mentioned, but you are right, it was a very orcish episode. I am glad that they each came across as being unique. I was not planning on anything special that way. It just worked out like that. We will be seeing all three orcs together in the episode following today's, and sparks will fly!


Grits: Teresa's anger issues are definitely still there. They will be until she makes an effort to do something about them, which we will be seeing later in this chapter btw.

Teresa is a zen archer. All Bosmer archers are in the TF, and many others as well. Unfortunately, I have not figured out a way to say that and still keep it setting-friendly. So instead I have been simply trying to show it without the term "zen". Eventually I will have to make up some kind of word for it, when Teresa actually meets Daenlin and learns more about archery from him (in a future chapter).


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: Teresa met Kurz and Lum gro-Baroth, archers from the Chorrol chapter in town for the tournament. The two orcs definitely made a bad first impression, although Lum did try to make amends later in the evening. The next day finds Teresa working a contract outside of the city...


Chapter 34.7 - The Tournament Of Archers

"We're going to have to leave that behind and walk from here on out," Teresa nodded to the landau in which the patricians sat. The open-topped carriage was made of mahogany and decorated with gold inlays. Even the four coal black Percherons that drew it bore feather plumes atop their harnesses.

"Capital idea!" exclaimed an olive-skinned Nibenean in his middle years. His expansive girth was draped in green velvet, and he clambered down from the elegant carriage with the help of a servant in fine linen. "Nothing like a brisk stroll in the country to improve one's circulation. Isn't that right Domitilla?"

"As you say husband." Next came a young woman of Teresa's own age. Her raven tresses were long and arranged behind her head in an elaborate braided bun. She wore a gown of velvet and lace, and a brocade corset decorated with flowers girded her waist. A necklace of pearls ringed her delicate throat, and diamonds glittered from her ears and fingers. She was everything a young woman was supposed to look like, Teresa thought enviously. Nothing at all like herself of course.

Finally, a middle-aged Imperial descended from the landau. Like the younger woman, she wore a gown of velvet. However, she decorated herself with rubies rather than diamonds and pearls. While she lacked the youthful bloom of the other woman, she carried herself with not only grace, but dignity and command. From the moment Teresa had met her, she had never once lowered her gaze. While young Domitilla shyly looked away whenever Teresa set eyes upon her.

"Silva, wait here with the carriage," the middle-aged woman said to the coachman. She swept forward, past the others, and set her hands on her corseted hips as she gazed upon the village before them.

"This is Silverbridge, is it not guide?"

"Indeed it is Lady Scaurus," Teresa replied. Patricians were always a pain to deal with, she thought. They were so touchy about their titles and formalities, and had the right to exact punishment on those who forgot to address them correctly. "We can cut through here to the river, and follow it upstream."

"And you are certain we shall find one of these ursine creatures near the river?"

"They like to eat fish," Teresa said simply. "The noise of the road and the settlements scare them away from the shores of the bay though. We can only find them if we go into the back country."

"Well, let us be off then," Lady Scaurus declared regally. She was clearly in charge of the group. Even though Pappy had told her that it had been the man who was paying for the charter. Teresa wondered if they were somehow related?

Teresa led the trio of patricians through the village, while a pair of linen-clad servants followed with large wicker baskets in hand. The farmers of Silverbridge all stopped and stared as the patricians went by. Most lowered their heads in respect as the nobles passed, a few even made formal bows. Lady Scaurus nodded to the villagers as they paid her the honors. She walked with back straight and head held high, as if she were a queen and this her court. On the other hand, the patrician couple openly gawked at the farmers, and Teresa wondered if they had never seen what poor people lived like. Probably not, she imagined. Their kind spent their entire lives surrounded by luxury.

"What is that smell?" Domitilla grimaced and buried her face in a scented hand cloth.

"Manure from all the animals," Teresa answered. "They collect it to put in the fields."

The young woman turned pale, and Teresa wondered if it was at the idea of living around the droppings of so many animals? Or perhaps the Imperial had realized that the food she ate grew in fields sown with it? She was tempted to say something about the latter, but decided it would be wiser not to press her luck.

Teresa saw Decimus as they made their way out of the river side gate in the village fence. As usual, the elderly Nibenean was fishing. Quintis and Poppea played nearby, running in circles with wooden swords in their hands. The old Imperial looked up with a start at the procession. Teresa allowed herself a faint smile and waved. But when he rose as if to come over and greet her, she shook her head. This was not the time to mix pleasure with business, she knew. Not with nobility in tow.

"Commander Vitellus tells me that you are quite an accomplished forester," the middle-aged man said as they entered the forest beyond the village. So close to the settlement, it was only a thin smattering of trees. Nothing like the deep ocean of greenery that Teresa knew it would become in a few miles. As he had at the village, the Imperial stared wide-eyed at the woods around them. "He says you live off the land, that sort of thing."

"I know my way around the forest Lord Regillus," Teresa replied as she led them through the trees. She still could not believe that she had taken this assignment. Of all the silly, stupid things to be doing, playing wet nurse to a bunch of patricians who wanted to go exploring had to be the most ridiculous of all!

"Lord Placus Regillus of the Imperial City and his new wife are here for the tournament," Pappy said to her in his office on the third floor of the guild hall. "Someone told him that this was grizzly country. So he is bound and determined to see one while he is here. Just take them up the river a few miles, let them gawk at a bear and have a picnic, then bring them back to the city. It'll only take you a few hours."

"What do I look like, a nursemaid?" Teresa rolled her eyes.

"It's no different from how you took Alaine Retiene up the Larsius to sketch the mountains."

"But at least he had a good reason for it," Teresa huffed. "He was working. Besides, he wasn't some nose-in-the-air noble."

"Their septims are just as gold as anyone else's," Pappy replied. "I suppose I'll just give the contract to Vincent then…"

As if Teresa would let Vincent Galien guide anyone into the forest! They would all end up in the belly of one of the bears if that happened! Of course Pappy knew both, she thought. Otherwise he never would have said it in the first place.

"Capital! just capital!" The middle-aged lord turned to his young bride. "You see, it is just as I said. Not only a champion archer, but a backwoods huntress. Nothing but the best for you dear."

"I am truly fortunate that Mara has so smiled upon me, to bring me such an accomplished and generous husband," the young patrician smiled.

Teresa wanted to roll her eyes at the pair. She did not know which one was worse. The good-for-nothing lord or his shallow, naive wife. They were truly made for one another. It was almost enough to make her forget that the lord had called her a champion archer. She had no doubt that the Nibenean had meant it as a means of inflating his own ego, rather than as a compliment to her. She was half tempted to lose the tournament on purpose just to make him look bad!

"I am told there was a grizzly bear found on the Green Road just a week ago," Lady Scaurus declared. "They say it was wounded by a troll, and that a young woman healed it and led it back into the forest."

"By Aetherius, now that is a woman with balls!" Lord Regillus laughed, then turned to his bride. "Do you think you could do such a thing my dear?"

"I still fear I shall faint dead away when I first set eyes upon one of the beasts," the young Nibenean fluttered. Teresa had to fight to retain a straight face, and was glad she was leading the group, so that they could not see if she failed. Were all noblewomen such porcelain dolls?

"What do you think about it guide?" Lady Scaurus said. Coming from her, it was more of a demand than a question. "What was your name again? Teresa?"

"Indeed it is milady." Teresa glanced back over her shoulder. She found that the middle-aged woman was staring back at her with a slight smile upon her features. She knows who that young woman was, the wood elf thought. Nor did the noblewoman need to be reminded of her name. Now here was a real woman, Teresa mused, one she could respect. "I think that woman was just doing what she could, for the bear, and the people on the road."

"She is lucky it did not take her head off!" Lord Regillus exclaimed. "I proclaim, I should never get that close to a wounded animal. They are capable of anything."

"Luck had nothing to do with it…" Teresa muttered.

Now the forest became thicker, and she stopped to string her bow.

"What is wrong?" came the voice of Lord Regillus. Teresa thought she heard the tremor of worry in it. "Is there a bear?"

"No," Teresa answered, "this won't stop a bear, just make it mad. But there are other things in the woods." She remembered the villagers warning of trolls during the blessings, and the tragedy she had discovered in the forest the next day.

"So what do we do if one of these bears attacks us?" the young noblewoman asked.

"Pray," Teresa answered. Domitilla practically whimpered, and her husband gulped loudly. "Don't worry, bears don't normally attack people. In fact, they stay away whenever they hear us. If we treat them with respect and give them their space, they will do the same for us. If one does get out of hand, I will take care of it. Just don't run off. Stay behind me and everything will be fine."

With that she led the group down to the Larsius. Its waves lazily rolled by, as if in no hurry to join Niben Bay. Teresa scanned the banks of the river for signs of life. On the near side she found a mound of branches that told of a beaver lodge. Yet it was on the far side that she found what she had been looking for.

A grizzly bear stood in the shallows of the river. Not just any bear either, but the same one Teresa had found on the Green Road a week before. As Teresa watched, her muzzle darted under the water, and a wild splashing ensued in the waves. A moment later she reemerged with a steelhead grasped firmly within her jaws. Taking her time, the bear sauntered up to dry land with the fish still flapping in her mouth. There she dropped it upon the turf and tore it apart with one clawed paw.

"Oh good Aetherius!" the voice of Lord Regillus rang out behind Teresa. "Do you see that! It's a grizzly bear! And he's devouring something too. Look at that blood!"

"That's Barenziah," Teresa said quietly, "she's a girl." The forester looked back to the trio of patricians and their two servants. The lord was practically ecstatic, while his wife looked paler by the moment. As ever, Lady Scaurus remained calm and dignified, as if she watched bears rip fish apart every day of her life. Yet Teresa was certain she saw a smile as faint as any of her own crack the Imperial's features.

"Barenziah?" the middle-aged woman asked with one ever so slightly raised eyebrow.

"That's what I call her," Teresa shrugged. "It seems to suit her."

"Indeed, beautiful, powerful, and regal." The noblewoman's eyes sparkled. "It appears that this bear has no need of healing however."

"Not anymore," Teresa breathed. She looked back across the river to the grizzly. Thank you Bear, for allowing me to give Barenziah a second chance at life.

Chapter 4a review

Teresa’s crab dinner makes me hungry for crab! Lol

She could smell the horse as the soldier came alongside her. The crackling of his torch was loud in her ears, loud enough to drown out the roaring of her heart, and she held herself absolutely still. Shadow hide me, she prayed. I could feel the suspense here, and I love how you described the awareness Teresa had because of the fear of being caught or killed by the legionnaire.

I’m very curious about this figure in Teresa’s dream. Is she a spirit guide of some sort, or something else…?

Also: Thank you for the link to the mod. I'm collecting the links to mods I like, so I can get them once I start playing on PC.

This chapter had me in hysterics, and what a sweet ending !!! I could quote so many lines I loved that it would spam your thread, so I'll just say: AWESOME WRITE !!!!!


I hope we see more of Barenziah, too. You have developed her nicely !!


I loved so many lines it was hard to pick a fave, but I settled on this one - had me choking !!!





I loved this chapter, it has gone down with all my other Teresa faves !!!

Now why does that pretty young bride remind me of Countess Leyawiin from my own OHDH?

I enjoyed Teresa nursemaiding a trio of spoiled aristrocrats in the backcountry. But wouldn't Barenziah hear them coming? I bet they're not very woodscrafty (as Captain Steffan would say).

She was everything a young woman was supposed to look like, Teresa thought enviously. Nothing at all like herself of course.
Poor Teresa is never satisfied with what Mara gave her. Must be a wood elf thing.

Wonderful to see Silverbridge again. You have, of course, a very large scale to Teresa's Cyrodiil. For example, the lapping waves of the Larsius' tells me the river is likely quite a bit wider than the narrow thing we see in game. It would not surprise me if Barenziah was not concerned about a hand full of puny humans and a scrawny mer on the far side of the river. Or perhaps mama grizz was smart enough to recognize her healer.

It was almost enough to make her forget that the lord had called her a champion archer. She had no doubt that the Nibenean had meant it as a means of inflating his own ego, rather than as a compliment to her. She was half tempted to lose the tournament on purpose just to make him look bad!
This was a delicious string of logic! The scary part is that it makes perfect sense!
Oh, and this passage was also a nice little reminder of the tournament in town.

A delightful episode! Teresa in her element, contrasted with her nursemaid duties. A nice touch to introduce the fact that although Bravil is hardly the cosmopolitan center of Cyrodiil, it does indeed host some representation of monied nobility. Teresa has a learned dislike of nobles, but to her credit, she is quick to respect those who deserve it, regardless of class; Lady Scaurus is a fine example. After all, the Lady seems to be a sister of the faint smile who, like Teresa, does not suffer fools.

How lovely to catch a glimpse of Decimus, and Quintis and Poppea at play! Quite a contrast to the bejeweled and brocaded nobles in their measured procession. It was great to see Bear Barenziah on the far side of the river. No need for hysterics, and Teresa could enjoy the scene.

What is it about Bosmer women that makes them want to deliberately under-achieve in archery contests? Or at least threaten to do so.

Nicely contrasting characters among the patricians, though I begin to suspect Domitilla is behaving the way she expects her husband wants her to, and could surprise us all later. If she was that fragile, she'd never have got this far.

I liked this part. It's a change of pace from the previous and brought the focus back onto Teresa from the guild. I suspect the competition might be immenent, though I could be wrong... I agree with Acadian that putting her in her element and then giving her a bunch of nobles was excellent, it goes to show how much she's learnt. I suspect we might be seeing Lady Scaurus again too, she seems quite the character.


How to win friends.... Teresa should learn to put up with nobles though, they have more money to fleece than normal people. I wonder if Pappy was trying to show her that...

10e - 10j


That battle was quite an undertaking and you did it so well!

Pappy's guild was decimated. I had taken a liking to the Argonian. I felt bad for the Khajiit just because I like playing them. All I can say about the one that went out for the berserker is FOOL. Too bad about the recruit but with that kind of fighting I can't say I'm surprised. Raminus really thrashed the daedra! I've always had fun playing as a heavy hitting wizard like the Raminus you describe!

Well done!

Lady Syl: Yes indeed, like h.e.r., you recognized Teresa's spirit guide right away. He will play a very important role in her life. This is one of the things that is completely new for Teresa 2.0 here at Chorrol. When I moved the story here and restarted it, I decided to delve deeply into Teresa's spirituality, which was noticeably lacking in 1.0.


mALX: I am not sure if we will see more of Barenziah or not. If I can, I would like to work her into future storylines though.


haute ecole rider: The river is well over two hundred feet at Silverbridge, so I figured that was enough space for Barenziah not to worry about the picnickers. Of course if I had named her Yogi, they would have been shy one picnic basket before the day was out...


Acadian: Trust me, it is not just a wood elf thing...

Perhaps Barenziah did recognize Teresa. Also if you recall, when Teresa was making her way back to Bravil back in the beginning of this chapter, she saw another bear that give her a long, almost knowing look...

You did indeed, hit one of the main things I wanted to highlight in this episode. Bravil's upper class. Even here in the ruins of Detroit we still have monied nobility. So Bravil would be no different. Teresa has indeed learned to dislike such people, and we will see why in a future chapter.


Grits: It was good to get back to Silverbridge again, however briefly, and see old man Decimus again.


ghastley: I guess Bosmer bowgirls are just not that competitive. At least not for the sake of competition itself. Now show a Skingrad elf some Dunmer sausage, and you will see some fight. Some might say the same of blond Bravilian bowgirls and Imperial Guard Captains from Kvatch...


Olen: The FG qualifications are very close, just a few more episodes to get there. We will be seeing much more of Lady Scaurus as well. Not only in this chapter, but in future ones as well.


King Coin: The Battle of Bruma remains one of my favorite chapters. It was murder to write, given that at the time it was the largest chapter I had ever done (of course now I look at this chapter and laugh at a mere 16k words... ). It was also required very intricate details to be worked out, with the movements and counter-moves of the two armies. I have always been at least a little (and usually a lot) disappointed with the portrayal of major battles in fantasy novels and especially movies. So I was glad to have the chance to show how it can be done with realism, rather than as two mobs brawling with one another. I am glad it all came together for you!


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: Teresa performed a simple contract guiding a group of nobles into the forest for a picnic and bear-watching. While she found two of them to be as annoying and exasperating as she expected, she found that Lady Scaurus was not one to be trifled with however, and is a noble whom she can truly respect. Next we return to the guild hall for dinner later that night, and sparks fly as three orcs are put together in the same room. The fight depicted (and fighting styles of the combatants) was loosely based upon a famous boxing match from the 1970's. Can anyone guess which one?


Chapter 34.8 - The Tournament Of Archers

"Well I have to say, you Bravil fellas sure put on a good spread!" Lum leaned back in his chair and belched loudly. Vincent and Pappy laughed from where they sat at the large, round, dining room table. Teresa could not stop herself from rolling her eyes, and she could see Ancondil doing the same across the table from her. Storm-Tail made no sign however. In fact, if his chest had not occasionally risen and fell with breath, the wood elf would have wondered if he might be a statue. Just like all Argonians, she mused. Unless they had to for some reason, they rarely moved at all, but instead remained perfectly still for hours on end.

"Hey, what's wrong, our manners aren't good enough for you?" Kurz's voice was a low growl, like that of a dog after someone stepped too close to its bone. Teresa looked up from her half-finished stuffed cabbage to see the Chorrol orc glowering at Ancondil. The pony-tailed orc had been needling Ancondil all day long with snide little comments. Now he was practically throwing down the gauntlet in front of the other Orisimer. "That's how a real orc shows appreciation."

"Indeed," Ancondil replied in a conciliatory tone. He reached for a bottle of Surilie Brothers as if nothing had happened. "Here, try a glass of this brandy. It is the best way to finish a good meal."

"Orisimer don't drink that fruity elf piss water," Kurz spat. "Beer and ale are a green man's drink."

"Fruity elf what?" Teresa's knuckles turned white under the force of her clenched fist. She felt Tadrose lay a gentle hand on her own, holding it under the table.

"Piss water, that's what I said twig." Now the orc turned to face Teresa. "That's fine for little girls, but not a real orc."

"Now see here!' Ancondil rose to his feet, his face set into a mask of stone. "A gentleman does not speak that way to a lady."

Kurz now stood as well. His brother reached up to take his arm, but Kurz brushed it aside. He balled one hand into a fist and pressed it into his open palm, and Teresa could hear his knuckles crack loudly. "You wanna learn me some manners pretty boy?"

"I am Ancondil of Cheydinhal, son of Orintur and Eilonwy." Ancondil stepped around the table to face the other orc. "I am calling you out. What say you sir?"

While his face was an expressionless mask, Teresa could not fail to miss the sarcasm that Ancondil's final word dripped with. The next thing she knew, she was standing on her feet as well. Part of her wanted to tell Ancondil to stop. The last thing she wanted was him being hurt over her. But another part of her very much wanted to see her friend bury a green fist into the Chorrol orc's face.

"Let's dance." Kurz swung at Ancondil. Yet even Teresa saw the blow coming from a mile away. Ancondil rotated to one side, and the ham hock of the other orc slipped past his head. Then Ancondil unleashed an uppercut with his left, and Kurz staggered as the cultured Orisimer's fist sank into his gut.

The others leaped from their seats to pull the two orcs apart. Lum grabbed his brother and drew him back, while Pappy and Tadrose stepped in front of Ancondil. Vincent on the other hand, simply cheered and shook a fist in the air.

"Alright that's enough you meatheads!" Pappy's shout cut through the commotion. "This is the Fighters Guild, not some Waterfront dive." Then his voice softened, and gleam lit his blue eyes. "We do our fighting in the dojo. Now come on!"

With that Pappy led the way from the dining room to the back of the guild hall. Teresa and the others filed into place between the orcs, providing a buffer to ensure that more fisticuffs did not erupt along the way. Once in the airy training hall, Ancondil stripped off his velvet doublet and undershirt, until he stood in nothing but his trousers. Kurz likewise doffed his own tunic, and he reminded Teresa of an angry lion as he prowled back and forth behind his brother.

Pappy then took up leather straps and began wrapping them around the Kurz's hands. Tadrose did likewise with Ancondil. Teresa saw her whisper something in the orc's ear, and he nodded in return. Finally, the two Orisimer faced one another once more as the others backed away to form a ring around them.

Kurz took a moment to twist his head around in a circle, creating a series of ominous popping noises from his neck, which looked as thick as a tree-trunk to Teresa's eyes. He grinned, exposing his teeth like a predator about to pounce. Raising his hands, he stepped forward in a pugilist's stance.

"I'm gonna beat you into next year!"

Ancondil was unfazed by the other man's threat, and moved forward in a similar pose. However, Teresa was quick to note that while Kurz's steps were heavy and deliberate, those of Ancondil were light and quick. He almost seemed to dance upon the hardwood floor of the training room.

It was Ancondil who struck the first blow as the two closed. It was a quick jab from his left, connecting with Kurz's chin. The Chorrol orc's head rocked back for a moment. Then he smiled, and continued to close in. Ancondil floated away however, and jabbed again. Now Kurz swept aside Ancondil's left with his right. Stepping forward with his left foot, he brought his left fist across his body and landed it square in Ancondil's face.

The Orisimer's head snapped back under the force of the blow, and blood sprayed from his lip. But he did not falter, and a second later he smashed home a right uppercut into Kurz's chin. Teresa could swear that the Chorrol orc's entire body was lifted from the ground, and before he could regain his balance, a left hook buried itself into his temple.

Kurz staggered back and shook his head. Yet he remained on his feet, his hands still up and on guard. Teresa was stunned. If only one of those punches had landed on her, she knew that she would have been a smear on the floor.

"I've got twenty drakes on Ancondil!" Pappy shouted. "Any takers?"

"I'll cover that!" Lum shouted back.

"Hey, let me in on this action!" Vincent cried. "I'll put twenty on Kurz!"

"You're on!" Teresa found herself shouting to Vincent. Her heart was pounding in her chest like a racehorse, and her palms glistened with sweat. She felt as if she were fighting herself!

Tavian joined in with a few drakes a moment later, and even the normally placid Storm-Tail threw his own money into the rapidly growing betting pool. Only Tadrose abstained, remaining cool and composed as usual. If Chance had not been on a contract, Teresa had no doubt that he too would have joined in. He probably would have been the one to start the betting! Teresa imagined.

In the meantime Kurz and Ancondil were still in action, seemingly oblivious to the chaos of bets that had erupted around them. As before, Ancondil's feet were quick and light. He bobbed, weaved, and jabbed. Kurz on the other hand, was slower, and continued to try to close with the other orc. Whenever he could, he blasted at Ancondil with crushing uppercuts and hooks, putting all of the strength of his body behind the blows. Yet Ancondil was too fast, and most met nothing but air.

"This is an excellent example of opposing styles," Tadrose said quietly, so that Teresa barely heard the dark elf over the shouts and cheers of the others. "Ancondil is a classic out-fighter. See how he keeps Kurz at a distance? He uses quick jabs and moves fast on his feet, to keep Kurz back. He cannot hit very hard like that, but he controls the pace of the fight, and is slowly wearing Kurz down. He got cocky at the start there, and let Kurz hit him. But now that he's had a taste of what Kurz can dish out, I think he will settle down."

"Kurz on the other hand, is a slugger," the dark elf continued. "He is slower, both in the feet and the hands. You can often see his punches coming from a mile away. But he hits like minotaur, and he can take a beating like one."

Teresa nodded. Thanks to her sojourn into Henantier's dreamworld, she knew the latter from personal experience! "So he's just a brute then," she observed.

"No, it is not like that at all," Tadrose said, her eyes remaining locked on the combatants as they spoke. "Kurz was not born with the quickness or nimbleness that Ancondil has. If he tried to fight like Ancondil, he would lose. He has to use what Mara gave him the best he can. Watch how he punches. See how he not only throws his arm forward in that left cross of his, but rotates his hip and torso? Also how he moves his weight from the back foot to the front? He's using his body as fulcrum. That sudden shift of weight puts even more power in his blows. He would drop most people with only one of those punches. Ancondil probably only stayed on his feet the first time because it was the start of the fight, and he was still fresh. If Kurz hits him with another after he is worn down…"

"So how can Ancondil win?" Teresa bit her lip.

"He has to keep doing what he is," Tadrose explained. "Keep moving, tire Kurz out with jabs, and stay away from that left cross of his. It is all about endurance, skill, and strategy."

Teresa continued to watch as the two behemoths slugged it out before her eyes. She had been so caught up in her feelings, that she had not really analyzed the tactics of the two fighters. Yet trust Tadrose to turn anything into a training session, even a brawl! Still, she told herself to stop worrying about Ancondil, and tried to take mental notes about the strategy and moves that both fighters were using.

It finally ended when Kurz's body shook like leaf. Letting forth an ear-splitting howl, he leaped forward at Ancondil with a speed that was surprising for his bulk. He pushed his way through Ancondil's warding jabs, and pummeled away at the other orc with crushing punches to the torso. Ancondil pulled his arms in front of him, hands up before his face, to ward off the hammer blows.

Teresa cringed, until she noticed that while Kurz was definitely unleashing punishing blows, he had lost his former skill. No longer was he shifting his weight with his punches, or even striking at vital points like Ancondil's head. Instead he simply flailed away like the mindless brute she had originally mistaken him for.

"He's berserk," Tadrose commented. "One way or another, it will be over soon."

Teresa's eyes widened. She had heard stories of berserk orcs, but had never seen one. Until now at least. Now she stared in horror as Kurz continued to unleash punch after punch into Ancondil's warding arms and the sides of his torso. For long minutes it went on, and Teresa could not believe that Ancondil was able to remain on his feet under the punishment.

Then a strange thing happened. It was Kurz who began to falter. He looked exhausted. Ancondil acted instantly, replying with a combination jab and cross to the Chorrol orc's head. Kurz staggered for a moment, then swung wildly back at Ancondil. The Orisimer ducked under the clumsy blow, and followed with an uppercut into Kurz's stomach, nearly lifting the slugger off his feet from the force of the punch.

Kurz staggered, and Ancondil pressed his attack. First jabbing with his left, he followed with a devastating right cross to Kurz's chin. Blood splattered from the orc's lip, landing hot and wet upon Teresa's face. He tottered, and a moment later went crashing to the floor.

"Kurz!" Lum rushed forward to his brother, lifting his head from the hardwood floor. The Chorrol orc's eyes fluttered open, and he stared up at Ancodil's own bloody and bruised visage.

"Well I'll be a tattooed dragon," Kurz spat blood from his mouth. "You're no ponce after all. You're alright Ancondil!"

With the help of his brother, the orc rose to his feet and extended a hand to Ancondil. Teresa bit her lip, waiting for the inevitable trick. Yet the Chorrol orc had no mischief up his figurative sleeve when Ancondil took his leather-wrapped hand and shook it vigorously.

"And you sir, have the hardest left cross I have ever had the misfortune of stopping!" Ancondil laughed and slapped the other man on the back. Then he turned to the others. "Drinks are on me!"

A good ol' fashioned tavern brawl. Between orcs, no less! And of course the one with the brains wins.

Wasn't it Ali and - and - and - I forget. I keep thinking Frazier, but I think that's a different match.

It's good to see Ancondil can hold his own, and win with grace as well. Now that's a classy guy!

Sonny Liston / Cassius Clay (he wasn't Ali yet).

I remember the 70's too well.

But a nice adaptation to TES, even if you can't rope-a-dope where there aren't any ropes!

BWAAAHAAA! Teresa providing a buffer between two Orc to keep them from fighting !!! It boggled the mind right before I was choking laughing at the image of it !!! Awesome little humor slipped in there !!!


Unbelievably Awesome description of a bout match blow by blow and the berserker attack !!! (hope they aren't too worn or bruised to shoot straight tomorrow !!


Really huge chapter!! Awesome Write !!! (as always !!!)

How fun to slip in an episode that is a heart pounder like this! And who better to provide such a violently sporting interlude to our non violent overall sporting event than a pair of orcs!

"Orisimer don't drink that fruity elf piss water," Kurz spat. "Beer and ale are a green man's drink."
This is perfect in so many ways, not the least of which is the anger that predictably erupts within Teresa.

Kurz staggered back and shook his head. Yet he remained on his feet, his hands still up and on guard. Teresa was stunned.
But he hits like minotaur, and he can take a beating like one."
These two above passages so beautifully capture the awesome terror and majesty of the Orsimer race. As another elf said, 'like trying to stop a fast moving building'.

I continue to love and respect Ancondil. How could one not?

How typically clever and efficient of you to feature the betting. Not only does it tie this 'sporting' event to the tournament, it displays the camaraderie of Teresa's guild. Most importantly, it gives us a perfectly delightful and concise snapshot of the personalities of each and every member of the guild simply by their actions once the betting began. Well done!

Fabulous analysis of the fighting styles by Tadrose. To deliver such detail from Teresa would have been out of character for her. But from Tadrose, it merely reinforced her professional competence. Indeed, when Pappy says she should have a guild of her own, he's right as usual.

You were probably thinking the Thrilla in Manila. Or maybe Ali vs. Frazier I. Close, but not there. You did get the first boxer though. Ancondil is definitely patterned after Ali. In fighting style at least. Obviously not when it comes to trash-talk!


Thank you for playing, but please try again. However, you were right on the Ali part, and the rope a dope...

Anyone else care to guess? I'll give a little hint about the second fighter. Think a lean, mean, grilling machine.

Well, no ears were bitten off or women raped so Mike Tyson is out.

Aha! George Foreman!

That is him! But which Ali/Foreman fight was it?

Ah, not a fan of boxing myself. There was more than one?

I would suppose it was the first one?

Methinks GF would learn from his mistakes and put up a better fight the second time around, and the way you wrote it strikes me that Kurz doesn't know better at this point (i.e. meeting Ancondil/Ali's style of fighting the first time around).

George Foreman was really getting "grilled" in this episode. HA !!!

Actually there was only one Ali/Foreman fight, but it had a cool name to it (like the Thrilla in Manila had), that I was kind of hoping someone might recall.

It was an interesting fight, strategy-wise, because in the pre-fight build-up, Ali bragged about how he was doing to dance around Foreman with his superior speed and agility, and Foreman would never hit him. Foreman on the other hand, trained to cut off the ring, which basically backs the other fighter in the corner where they cannot move. Foreman's fights in the previous two years never went beyond two rounds. He simply destroyed everyone he faced with his crushing punches before it could get to round three. Everyone in the world picked Ali to lose.

When the fight happened however, Ali did not try to stay away from Foreman at all. He stood up and tried to simply out punch him with right hand leads in the first round. Which had no effect on Foreman. Then in the second round Ali started taunting Foreman, and invented the rope a dope. Like Ancondil, he literally covered up and just stood there and took everything Foreman could dish out. But he still kept trash-talking Foreman. He drove Foreman into a rage, where his blows were crushing, but poorly aimed. Ali even leaned against the rope to conserve energy, and leaned against Foreman in the clinches, so Foreman would have to hold him up.

When Foreman finally got worn down, Ali still had the energy left to come out swinging, and put Foreman down.

It was not really the best fight in the world (that might be The Thrilla in Manila), but it is a great example of the strategy and planning that can go into boxing. Ali could never have out-punched Foreman. He out-thought him instead. You can see it here.

Rumble in the Jungle, I’m late to the party with this one! I especially love Tadrose’s description of how Kurz punches all the way from his feet. Chance is going to hate that he missed this, but I’m sure his guild mates will tell him all about it! What great fun to read. Of course my favorite part was the very end, when they shook hands and headed back in for drinks.

I too seem to be late to the Party. Good part though, an unexpected heartpounder! And a good lesson in boxing.

As ever it served other purposes too though. You developed the idea of commeraderie within the guild well, rather than different halls competing they all get on and having fought things might be settled. I also agree that it showed the characters well in their behaviour when the betting started (and a new side to Teresa, I can't imagine her having entered that bet or been so calm before she joined up). The line about Chance was spot on, I was just wondering about him as it came and thinking the same thing.

Kurz seems like he might mellow a bit now too... perhaps they will get on.

One thing I would say is that it seems unlikely you could have a decent boxing match without a referee, to break clinches as much as anything.

Don't think there's much I can add onto the brawl at this point, only that Ancodil does sound like an expert boxer.

I'm back up to speed now, though.

haute ecole rider: Who can resist a good fist-fight? Not an orc, that is for sure! Ancondil is of course a gracious winner.


mALX: Well, Ancondil is not shooting tomorrow. Kurz on the other hand...


Acadian: Hopefully this will keep all your guys' testosterone topped off for the rest of the tourney, since there will not be (much) more violent action in the rest of the chapter. The betting was an outgrowth of using the Baa Baa Blacksheep show and Greg Boyington as inspiration for Pappy Vitellus. I could not imagine any chapter of his not having fistfights and gambling on the outcome! I kept thinking of Dr. Strangelove as I wrote that part, and the scene where the President says "There's no fighting in the war room!" Well, there certainly is in the Fighters Guild. How can there not be?


Grits: The Rumble in the Jungle it was! That was back in the good old days when fights were so cool that they had names, like The Fight of the Century, The Thrilla in Manila, etc... Poor Chance will indeed be beating his head against the wall for missing the Brawl in Bravil.


Olen: I did a lot of studying when I wrote that episode, in order to make it plausible. I do agree that without a ref you cannot have a real boxing match, let alone things like ropes to cordon off an area, rounds being kept, etc... I just hope that disbelief can be suspended enough for most folks not to care.

It is funny, but three dog's latest post in BotM pretty much mirrored the same mentality in the Fighters Guild, concerning fist fighting. As long as it does not get out of hand and turn lethal, it can be a great way to let off steam.


Thomas Kaira: We will be seeing exactly why Ancondil is such a good boxer this coming segment.


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: Kurz picked a fight with Ancondil, which resulted in a boxing match that was not only entertaining for the other guild members, but very instructive to Teresa concerning the use of skill and tactics in combat. Next, Teresa learns a little bit more about the elegant orc, and about herself as well.


Chapter 34.9 - The Tournament Of Archers

"I never did have the opportunity to thank you for that delicious meal," Ancondil said. "Your stuffed cabbage was superb."

Ancondil sat on his rattan bed. His face and bare chest were livid with bruises and scabbed over cuts. Yet his eyes were bloodshot not from fighting, but rather from the alcohol he had put down with Kurz, Lum, and the other men afterward. Teresa still could not believe how the Chorrol orc had turned from bully to best friend so quickly. It was as if Ancondil had somehow knocked some decency into him.

"I didn't make all of them." Teresa bit her lip. She stared at the cut that ran down the center of the Orisimer's own lower lip. That was where the other orc's crushing left cross had landed near the start of the fight. "Pappy made the ones with meat in them."

"Perhaps, but I could not tell one from the other by the taste," Ancondil smiled.

"That's not what Vincent said." Teresa frowned as she stared at the floor.

"Well, some people have no taste," Ancondil laughed. "You cannot please everyone."

"Well you don't have to please me," Teresa said, looking back at his bruises. He had stood up to Kurz because of her, when she should have done it herself. Why had Tadrose stopped her? Was the dark elf afraid of what would have happened? To her? or to Kurz? She stared down at her hand. Thanks to Culotte, she knew full well what her Burning Hand could do, and the spell had been firmly etched in her mind when Kurz had taunted her.

But she could do more than destroy with magic. She could heal. With that in mind, Teresa closed her eyes and thought of Bear. Slowing down her breathing as she did when she entered her Astral Temple, she let the world fall away. She pictured Bear in her mind, and as if summoned by her thoughts, warm fur spread over her arms. Rising up her shoulders, the curly brown hairs went on to enfold the rest of her body. Staring down, Teresa looked at the black claws that tipped her paws. Sniffing the air with her muzzle, she smelled dried blood and sweat.

She reached out with one paw to Ancondil, and felt his heart beating under the pad of her forefoot. She let the beat of her heart match his, felt his blood pumping through her veins, and his breath hot in her lungs. She felt the aches and pains that wracked his muscles, and stung through his cuts and bruises.

In her mind she saw him, healthy and whole. A smile crossed his features, and he stood with muscular arms stretched high. He moved fluidly, without pain or hindrance. His eyes glowed with delight, and his cheeks flushed a healthy shade of green.

Teresa summoned her magicka and poured it into that image. She could feel it flowing from her body like a river of energy. As it poured, she felt Ancondil's cut flesh knit together, his bruises fade clear, and his aches vanish.

Teresa opened her eyes and stared back down at the Orisimer. A look of amazement was etched upon his strong features. Swaying on her feet for a moment, she could not resist the yawn that erupted from her mouth. Bear, that was tiring!

"My stars Teresa, you healed me!" he gasped. He reached up with one hand and slid a finger along his now healthy and whole lip. "I had heard you healed a bear, but I thought it was with potions. When did you learn to do that?"

"I did heal her with potions," Teresa bit her lip as she stared down at the muscular Orisimer. She wondered what he had seen? Had it been a wood elf, or a bear? She imagined that his reaction would have been more extreme if it had been a bear. So perhaps no one else could see it when she called up Bear to join her. "That wasn't enough though. So I just… did what I had to. The same as now."

"That is amazing!" Ancondil gasped. "You are the most incredible woman I have ever met Teresa. Always full of surprises. But you really did not have to do anything. It was just a few cuts and bruises."

"I don't care. I don't like it when the people I care about are hurt." Teresa bit her lip once more. "Besides, you didn't have to do what you did for me."

"Eat the stuffed cabbage? I assure you, the pleasure was all mine!"

"No," Teresa fought to keep a serious face. Thankfully eighteen years on the street gave her the victory. So while the ghost of a smile escaped her features for a moment, it was quickly subdued. "I mean fight Kurz. You could have gotten your head smashed in by that ogre."

"Teresa, as much as I would like to play the gallant hero, I must confess I did not fight him for you." Now Ancondil reached out to take one of Teresa's hands in his own. She stared down at the massive green fingers that enfolded hers. Now so very gentle in spite of the obvious power that was wrapped within them.

Her mind traveled back in time, to the night they first met. He had walked her to her room at Silverhome on the Water, and had been looking for much more than that. "If you were a woman I would love to spend the evening with you, alone," she had told him. If only you were a woman Ancondil, Teresa sighed, then even the mysterious Tadrose Helas would not be able to hold candle to you!

"I faced down Kurz because I had to," Ancondil explained, seemingly oblivious to Teresa's sojourn down memory lane. "He wanted that fight very badly. Insulting you was just a means to an end, as his discourtesy toward me was getting him nowhere. That made me see that there was no avoiding it, so I finally threw down the glove."

"You certainly did throw it down!" Teresa breathed. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"Why the Mages Guild of course!" Ancondil smiled.

"The what?" Teresa wondered if the blows to Ancondil's head had split more than just his lip.

"That is right, the Mages Guild, back in Cheydinhal," Ancondil continued. "Trayvon the Redguard taught me the manly art of self defense when I was a boy."

"I thought that Redguards didn't like magic?" Teresa blinked.

"Most of them do not. Which is why Trayvon learned pugilism." Ancondil winked. "I imagine that he must have seen much of himself in me."

"What do you mean?" Teresa sat down beside the orc on the bed. If it were any other man, she never would have done such a thing. But thankfully she had been through all of that with Ancondil already. She knew the Orisimer's true measure, as he did hers.

"Oh, I was quite the Daedra when I was young," Ancondil said, his eyes taking that slightly glassy look of one who is reliving the past. "I was like Red Mountain, ready to erupt at any moment. Much like Kurz is. Being an orc with high elves for parents, I had no shortage of opportunities. Among elves I was always a savage: a half-animal orc. Other Orisimer however, said I was green on the outside, but gold on the inside. Soft from Altmer ways, and too good for my own race."

"So that's what Kurz was getting at then?" Teresa bit her lip a third time as she stared at her friend, imagining the taunting and abuse he must have suffered. Some people liked to believe that children were cute little Aedra. But as a wood elf who grew up on the streets of the Imperial City, she knew that Daedra were closer to the reality.

"Kurz has some things he must deal with," Ancondil sighed. "I do not know exactly what. He is clearly very frustrated, and has a great deal of anger buried within him."

"You seem to know a lot about this?" Teresa observed.

"Like the old saying, it takes one to know one," Ancondil admitted.

"But you are nothing like that," Teresa insisted. "Even with Kurz needling you, and then during that fight, you never once lost your temper. I never could have stayed so calm!"

"At one time I would have went as berserk as Kurz did at the end," Ancondil explained. "When I was young, I was always starting fights or throwing tantrums. Any little thing could set me off. You know, this reminds me of those days in fact."

"How is that?" Teresa looked at the orc with curious eyes. The young orc Ancondil described seemed nothing like the man she saw before her. Could a person really change so much?

"I cannot recount the number of times I came home with a split lip or black eye," the Orisimer explained. "My father would send me to bed without dinner, and refuse to heal me. He said the bruises would help me think over my choices in life. Then my mother would sneak in later with a healing potion and a plate of leftovers."

Teresa did not fight a real smile as she pictured that. It reminded her so much of Simplicia, and how the Imperial would save her begging money to buy her goat's milk and bread.

"Thankfully I have learned how to control my temper since then," the orc said.

"How did you do it?" Teresa asked. Images of how she had stormed from the guild on her first day in Bravil rose up from the depths of her memory. Alongside them came other unflattering portraits from her past. Punching Volsinius in his breastplate. Snapping at Simplicia just before the Oblivion Crisis, as well as when Umbacano's manservant had found them at Jensine's afterward. Finally, there was the death of the Emperor, where she had been so overcome by rage that even Kurz would have been terrified to witness her.

"Ohtesse from the Chapel of Mara helped me," Ancondil explained. "She taught me to meditate, and how to appreciate the good things I have in life. But most importantly, she taught me to face my Shadow."

"Your shadow?" Teresa raised a dubious eyebrow.

"No, my Shadow, with a capital 'S'," Ancondil replied. "Not the shadow you see on the floor, but the Shadow that is cast in your Lower Self. We all have things about ourselves that we do not like. Things that we are ashamed of, things that we hate. We often want to pretend these parts of ourselves do not exist, and stuff them away in some deep, dark corner of our mind. With it unseen and unheard, we go on as if it never existed in the first place. Like throwing a pair of old shoes in a chest."

"But when you repress feelings like that, you also divest yourself of control over them," the Orisimer continued. "Left in the darkness, the Shadow grows into something fearsome and terrible. While we may have willfully forgotten it, it remembers us, and will not be ignored. In time it finds ways to break free of its prison. Usually in the most socially unacceptable moments. In the end, there is no escaping it."

"So how do you defeat it?" Teresa asked. Was this why she kept losing her temper? Was it this Shadow? feelings deep down within her that she did not want to admit to having?

"You don't," Ancondil smiled. "It is not a battle. That is the very mentality that creates the Shadow in the first place. Instead you have to embrace it. The Altmer say you must make a feast for your Daedra. Invite them to come down and sit, stuff them with sweet meats and heap praises upon them, show them how you love them. The point is that you must accept those things that you have tried to repress, and openly acknowledge that they are a part of you. That is the only way that you can regain control over them."

"Can you teach me how to do that?"

I absoloutly love this chapter!

It is very beautifully written and quite mysterious, which for me makes it all the more gripping!

I love how Teresa got anger management tips from an Orc. It made me chuckle a bit, i'm not sure why

Great write

This rings oh so true - in RL as well as in the best fiction. As the song goes, we all have a face that we hide away forever; we take them out to show ourselves when everyone is gone.

I really loved how you (and Teresa) dealt with the aftermath. And of course, Ancondil's gallantry in the face of surprising events - His sense of humor is also quite wonderful. Ah, if only he was a woman indeed! Teresa would have it easier with him than she has with Tadrose so far!

Agreed on the anger managment from an orc, though our red haired bosmer rather needs it. Quite a spiritual approach to it Ancondil has to it too, I suspect it may suit Teresa.

It was nice to see more of Ancondil's history too, I suspect there's reams of information on all the characters hidden away (certainly this piece has that feel) and it's always nice to see some emerge. And realistic too, I can't imagine it would have been an easy way to grow up. I'm sure speciesism has far more potential than racism...

I enjoyed Ancondil's reaction to her healing too...

11a - 12.2

I enjoyed Teresa's return to the Imperial City. She really notices the closeness and the unpleasant odor of the crowd after being out so long. I like the differences between her and Simplicia. For Teresa, mere survival isn't enough any more. Simplicia is trying to protect her the best she can the only way she knows how, but Teresa doesn't want to live like that. Then the Oblivion Gates open in the city, and Teresa has to work with a man that she has hated since childhood and finds that while she might not like him, she respects him and no longer fears him. She might even grow to like him, though I cannot tell at this point.

Fantastic story! I'm actually glad I'm so far behind so I can read as much as I want without running into the end!

A wonderful episode. Teresa is always at her best when bringing out the nature of others as she does here with Ancondil. And what a nature it is. As I have said before, how can one not love Ancondil?

"I don't care. I don't like it when the people I care about are hurt." Teresa bit her lip once more. "Besides, you didn't have to do what you did for me."
"Eat the stuffed cabbage? I assure you, the pleasure was all mine!"
This was so perfect and delightfully unexpected! Wrapping Ancondil's gallantry in humor was a wonderful touch here.

"Kurz has some things he must deal with," Ancondil sighed. "I do not know exactly what. He is clearly very frustrated, and has a great deal of anger buried within him."
Oh noes! I hope Kurz' unsuccessful bid for a before dinner appetizer at The Star Wars Cantina Lonely Suitor Lodge didn't have anything to do with his foul mood?

Great depiction of Teresa's bear-assisted healing.

Ancondil's history and Shadow talk. What a wonderful way to work to what I suspect is the meat of this cabbage roll: Anger management. I bet Ancondil's 'lesson' will not be lost on Teresa as she better learns to control her healing and burning hands.

I love how Teresa learned healing from Bear, not from some random bored mage. The description of her healing Ancondil was just beautiful.

I found Teresa’s tender moment with Ancondil quite touching. There are lots of different loves, and the most enduring have nothing to do with body parts.

12.2

You really characterized Umbacano as an evil man. When I played the game I thought it was the standard adventure and fetch quest. Umbacano was pleasant enough that I never suspected that he was evil until the end. He knows how to take advantage of Teresa as well knowing she comes from a poor background and offers a pretty low price to her for those statues. I only hope that she renegotiates with him later.

12.3

It was pretty exciting to finally have Teresa meet Julian and have a good conversation with her.
Baurus, and Jauffre, one always dies in the game it seems, and here too.

12.4

I was wondering if she'd go see Methredhel. Delightful little chapter.

Rihanae: Who would know more about anger than an orc?


haute ecole rider: Ancondil cannot help but to be gallant. Things would be so much easier for Teresa if he were a she. But like the song goes: love stinks.


Olen: Ancondil's talk of the Shadow is Jungian Psychology. Although it has been integrated into modern Paganism nearly seamlessly. Which probably accounts for the spiritualist feel to it.

Many of the NPCs do have a large amounts of backstories written by me (Tadrose especially). It was good to have the opportunity to show some of Ancondil's. In spite of being raised by a moderately well-to-do family, he has been miserable for much of his life because he does not fit in anywhere. On the other hand, all those trials have made him who he is today.


King Coin: Teresa indeed moved on from her old life as a street urchin, something Simplicia has a hard time dealing with on many levels.

Umbacano is not a bad man, he's just misunderstood. Okay, so he's a bad man... He was fun to write, since I got to be really creepy. Julian was fun to write as well, although not for that reason!


Acadian: Another vote for the stuffed cabbage line? I am glad it worked for people, I wanted that to be funny. As usually happens in such cases, it just came out naturally when I was writing, and I kept it because I thought it was funny, as well as being so in character for Ancondil.

Fear not, Kurz's unpleasantness at the FG has nothing to do with the wood nymph he was trying to make a move on having blood lung. His issues go much deeper (and should be revealed in the story I am currently working on).

As you noted, the main thrust of that last episode was Teresa finally gaining some direction in learning to control her anger. We will be seeing more about it later this chapter, and throughout the future chapters.


Grits: Teresa's learning to heal from Bear was something I had planned out way back when she first met Morcant, and the Witch told her that she learned her magic from her spirit guides, rather than from the Mages Guild. It is one of the ways that I wanted to show that spirit guides have a palpable effect upon the people who listen to them.


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: Teresa had a long talk with Ancondil after his fight with Kurz. She discovered that he was a problem child, and deals with a great deal of prejudice due to being an Orisimer with Altmer parents. Most importantly, she learned that she could control her anger by facing her Shadow. Next, we finally get to the tournament, as the FG goes to qualify.


Chapter 34.10 - The Tournament Of Archers

The next morning Pappy gave them a break from their training routine so that they could all go to the fairgrounds to qualify. Teresa discovered that they had been joined in the evening by half a dozen more members of the guild. A few she recognized by face from the Imperial City chapter. The others she had never seen before.

With Pappy in the lead, they all left the guild hall after breakfast and headed west down Lady Street. Only Storm-Tail and Chance were missing, and Tadrose said that they were already working on contracts. The small army of fighters made an impression on the people they passed by, who all stopped to point and stare. At one time Teresa would have wilted under the attention. But not now. Instead she could not deny a twinge of pride within her, to be marching with such an accomplished band of warriors.

"Time to get lucky meatheads!" Pappy declared. He pointed to the statue of the Lucky Old Lady, who rose up in the middle of a small square in the street. Made of bronze turned green from age, the Lady was an old woman wearing a dress whose skirt seemed to flow like water around her legs. Surrounding her were several dancing children, whom she looked down upon with warm, caring eyes.

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"That's not exactly my idea of getting lucky!" one of the new arrivals shouted, causing a peal of laughter from the crowd of fighters. Teresa ignored them and strode forward. Laying one hand on the cool bronze of the Lady's skirt, she closed her eyes and leaned forward to kiss her. As with every other time she had kissed the statue, she felt no different afterward.

But that did not mean that her luck had not improved.

Opening her eyes, she gazed back at the fighters lining up behind her. A flash of motion from farther down the street caught her eyes, and a faint smile crossed her lips when she saw who it was.

"Parwen!" she cried, "I thought we had lost you. Where have you been all this time?"

"Fathis invited me to stay in the castle." The older wood elf caught her breath as she stopped before Teresa. The forester imagined that she must have ran all the way from the fortress. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that. But when fate smiles on you, you can't turn away."

Teresa remembered Culotte. How she had looked at the ruin and just known that she had to go within. She wondered if Fathis had looked the same to the older elf? Hopefully it had been a more pleasant experience for Parwen!

"So what is this statue?" Parwen asked. "Why is everyone kissing it?"

"This is the Lucky Old Lady," Teresa explained. "They say whoever kisses her will have good luck that day. It's a guild tradition to come here and kiss her before every contract."

"Does it work?"

Teresa shrugged. "Give her a try and tell me tomorrow."

The mail-clad archer snorted. But that did not stop her from taking her turn at kissing the Lady's skirt.

Then they were on the march again. Following Lady Street back to Silver Avenue, they turned north and made their way out of the city. Gazing down at the Larsius as they crossed the bridge outside of the North Gate, Teresa was gripped by the desire to leap over the edge and splash down into the water below. But she reined in the feeling, and kept both her feet firmly on the wooden planks of the bridge.

Then the wattle fence of the fairgrounds rose before them. After parting with four remans for the entry fee, Teresa marched into the tent city with the others. She found that they did stamp her hand with different color ink this time. Today it was yellow.

Again, Teresa was amazed at the sheer number of kiosks packed into the space. Merchants sold everything from clothing and jewelry to weapons and armor. Others hawked hot and cold food, while minstrels strummed, jugglers performed, and mimes acted out their routines.

"Look Tadrose, a little shop full of nothing but shoes!" Teresa exclaimed to the armorer. The dark elf laid a gentle hand on the forester's arm and guided her back into the group. It was only then that Teresa realized that she had already taken several steps toward the merchant's tent.

"We can come back later," Tadrose said quietly in her ear. Teresa vowed to make it so. Then she realized that the dark elf had said 'we', and she could not contain a broad smile.

Pappy led them to the wooden stands that rose in the center of the tent city. Stretching high into the sky, the bleachers blotted out the sun from where they stood beneath them. Several tunnels were cut into the side of the wooden arena, but the guild commander led them past each, until he came upon one marked for contestants only.

This they trod through, passing by a pair of mail-clad Nibeneans standing guard at the entrance. They gave a nod to Pappy and the other fighters as they passed. Teresa wondered why they did not stop them. Then she recalled what Pappy had said to her about having Vincent sign her up. Obviously he had arranged it ahead of time. Since they were all wearing their guild medallions, there would be no mistaking them.

They emerged from the darkness of the tunnel and Teresa blinked in the morning sunlight. Looking around herself, she had to stifle the urge to gasp. The arena rose up all around her. Shaped like an oval, its rows of benches stretched high into the sky. Down nearest to the ground she saw a row of private boxes, separated from the rest of the amphitheater by wooden walls draped with tapestries depicting hunting scenes. Those were for the patricians, Teresa thought, like Lady Scaurus and Lord Regillus.

Teresa was surprised at how many people were in the stands. They were over a quarter full, and it was only morning. She tried to imagine how it would look when the benches were packed with mortals. Twenty thousand people, Pappy had said, and Teresa gulped at the thought.

Following the others, she looked up to see a large scoreboard erected at one end of the stadium. It was a framework of wood, with the names of contestants painted on long plaques and suspended from pegs nailed into the boards. Beside each name were three smaller wooden cards denoting their scores for each flight of arrows, plus a fourth that gave a total. Teresa noted the name of Daenlin near the top, with a total score of eighty seven. Under him was someone named Dame Buffy, with a score just one point lower.

Then they came to the judging station, which sat under a white tarp with broad red stripes. Again, Teresa saw a pair of mail-clad guardians standing watch. She wondered if the guild had been turned down for the job of standing guard. Then again, she doubted that they had enough people to do it in the first place, given the sheer size of the tournament.

A long table sat within the station, and Teresa saw that over half of it was taken up by wooden plaques like those saw on the scoreboard. Some had names already on them, and she noted those of Parwen and Lum at her casual glance. Most were empty however.

A pair of Nibeneans in their teens stood behind the table, dressed in fine linen. They flanked a seated Imperial, whose hair had gone white with age, making him look like an eagle. He wore red and gold velvet, and sat upon his chair as if it was a throne.

"The Fighters Guild I see," he declared as Pappy stepped up with Teresa and the other archers in tow. "Since we have already received the entry tribute let me go over the rules of the competition with your archers."

"They're all yours Titus," Pappy motioned a hand to the guild members behind him.

"Qualification consists of three flights of three arrows each, for a total of nine arrows and a maximum score of ninety. The first flight is untimed at medium range. The second flight, at the same range, is a rapid-fire event limited to thirty seconds. The final flight is untimed against a long range target." The Imperial paused for a short breath and continued, "all arrows must come from your quiver or arrow bag - no prestaging in the ground by your feet is allowed. The top ten archers over the next three days will advance to the finals. Good luck."

The highest score possible was ninety, Teresa thought, and Daenlin had shot eighty seven! She felt as if an ogre had landed atop her, and struggled for breath. How on Nirn was she going to do this?

The ragged cry of a raven caused her to turn. Sitting there atop the scoreboard was the sleek, black bird. It turned its head to regard her, and cawed once more. With that the anxiety vanished from Teresa's breast, just as quickly as it had erupted. It was no different from practice, she thought, or combat. She would just do what she had to. The same as always.

She marched back out onto the field with the other archers, and they lined up to begin taking their turns. A Redguard wearing linen waited for them. "I'm Sinia, one of the line judges," she proclaimed. Smiling, she pointed down range. "There's your target, who wants to start?"

"I suppose I might just as well get it over with," said one of the Chorrol orcs. "Lum gro-Baroth."

The bare-chested orc strung his bow. While he was busy working at it, one of the teens from the judging tent ran to the scoreboard with a plaque. He handed it to another Imperial waiting there, who hooked it on the end of a long pole. Using that, he raised the plaque up to an empty row on the scoreboard and suspended it in the left-most column. Once there, Teresa saw that it bore Lum's full name. A moment later the scorekeeper added a small red plaque next to his name, and Teresa imagined that it marked him as being the person shooting.

"Now shooting for the Chorrol Fighters Guild, Lum gro-Baroth!" The voice boomed through the stadium, drowning out all other sounds. Teresa looked around, but could not see the speaker. Whoever it was, she imagined that they were using magic to amplify their voice, not to mention throw it around the amphitheater.

She turned back as Lum raised his bow and nocked his first arrow. The muscular orc pulled the flaxen string all the way back to his cheek and took his time to aim at the target down the field. Teresa marveled. He did not have to pull back to half-tension to aim, then quickly bring the string all the way back and fire immediately. He had the strength to keep the bow at full tension for long seconds instead. For as long as he wanted to, Teresa imagined. Her mind boggled at the sight. She could barely keep her bow at full tension for a second!

His first three shots were strong. One even landing in the bullseye. His flight of rapid fire shots were not quite as expert, but were still solid hits. He paused as the line judge stepped before him, and the target was carried further downrange. Once the attendants were clear of the target, the judge stepped away, and Lum took his final three shots. Not as good as the other flights, Teresa noted. But still good shooting all around.

Gods, Teresa thought to herself. What a strange thing it was to be watching and critiquing other archers!

Lum returned to a chorus of cheers from the other fighters, and a healthy dose of applause from the stands. Teresa added her own voice to the tumult. He was a good archer, she thought, and seemed like a decent enough person in the bargain. Even if he did not own a shirt. Then his brother Kurz stepped up to the firing line, and they waited while his name was added to the scoreboard.

Some nice details here. I see you have collborated with Acadian to ensure consistency - notably with the observations of the physical grunt used in Orc archery! Shame they aren't as accurate as Bosmer.

I also enjoyed the previous episode which examined mixed race individuals in Tamriel and Ancodil's struggle for acceptance. That is not really covered much in Oblivion although mixed race relationships are mentioned (e.g. Heinrich Oaken-Hull - although one suspects he spends more time at the Fo'c's'le than with his wife!). As with other things you take the material in Oblivion and use your imagination to extend it.

Small nit: you used the possessive form ("Mime's" and "juggler's") instead of the plural (mimes and jugglers) some way down.

Let's get the nits out of the way: Ciedwad already noticed the same ones I did.

Now on to the good stuff!

I enjoyed seeing the qualifying trials from another perspective. The intense collaboration between you and Acadian - so subtle in previous chapters - is in its full glory here. I already know how Teresa does here, and I am proud of her performance, but even more proud of her attitude toward it. I'm not competitive by nature, so when I do compete, I don't worry about winning or losing, but only doing the best I can in that moment. I guess that's why I enjoy dressage so much - it's all about your personal best. And that's a great attitude for Teresa to have.

Seeing Teresa's assessment of Lum's shooting style echo Buffy's further reinforces the character you have created for our favorite shirtless Orsimer. I look forward to Kurz's turn.

I liked the little scene of Teresa finding her inner Imelda Marcos. What is it about shoes? Especially in Cyrodiil where the skirts drag along the ground.

And the details of the scoreboard painted a vivid picture. It's getting as much character as a character, if you know what I mean.

I simply smiled all the way through this, as the tournament starts really coming to life!

It was priceless how Tadrose snagged Teresa back from the shoe shop with the promise to come back later (together!). Teresa's priorities are in perfect order.

And Pappy marching his troop into the coliseum! Wonderful to see Sinia (the line judge) again and to hear Teresa's account of the muscular shooting style of Lum.

I love seeing the tournament from Teresa's perspective, and I'm so glad she got a calming visit from Raven! Even though it is a 'silly' tournament, I can feel Teresa battling with self-imposed pressure and trying to explain to herself that it's just like practice.

What fun to see the arena through Teresa’s eyes, complete with a tantalizing glimpse of the name Dame Buffy! I thought that growing up in the Imperial City might give Teresa a little edge with the crowd, but I hadn’t considered that all of those eyes would be on her. It was a relief to see Raven. Shoe shopping with Tadrose, another thing to anticipate! Having the FG walk in together shows how much of a real faction they are, even though they will compete individually.

I am so delighted with this tournament that you and Acadian have brought to us, and so appreciative!

Powerful statement! I love that analogy !!!


Looks like Parwen doesn't have to kiss statues to get lucky...er....

Chapter 4c review

The Altmer did give her a nice sum of coins for the plants she had gathered on her journey. Enough that Teresa began to think that roaming the countryside for alchemical ingredients might turn out to be well worth the effort. Certainly not enough to get rich, but far better than she was doing now.
Doesn’t Teresa know she can make more money if she turns the ingredients into potions first?

Another very well-written chapter, and we see where Teresa of the Faint Smile really begins to emerge. With her new life out of the Imperial City's Waterfront, she dyes her hair--a visible change representing the changes that have and are taking place within her. You are developing her character beautifully.

Ceidwad: Thank your catching my apostrophes. It must have been that dastard with the drain marksman scroll that slipped them in there!

Heinrich Oaken-Hull may spend his time at the Fo'c'sle, but his wife spends her time with Enilroth, the blacksmith's apprentice! So I guess that works out fair.


haute ecole rider: The collaboration between Acadian and I only gets more intricate as this chapter goes on. But you might wait to comment on Teresa's attitude until after this next post.


ghastley: Shoes are very important! You cannot wear just any old shoes with any outfit. They have to match up, not only in color but style. Men can get away with owning only two pairs of shoes. Not women!

The scoreboard is something I put a lot of thought into. I am glad it is paying off!


Acadian: I loved writing that part about the shoe store. Not only because it highlights Teresa's girliness, but also because it is a direct homage to Daenlin having to drag Buffy away from the same shoe shop earlier!

Yep, just a silly game, nothing at all to worry about or take too seriously eh Buffy? Like Buffy, Teresa has found that it is easy to say that, but somehow the competition takes on an importance that becomes difficult to ignore...


Grits: You hit the nail right on the head. The tourney grounds are nothing in size or grandeur compared to the Arena in the IC. But there the crowds were a place Teresa could hide within. Here they are all looking at her! I am also glad someone else noted the solidarity showed by the FG. That was exactly what I (and Pappy) intended by having them all go to qualify together, with even the non-archers in tow to provide moral support. They are first and foremost a team.


mALX: While it did not originate from modern Paganism, Facing the Shadow is a very important part of Neo-Pagan practice. Ancondil's explanation, and to a lesser extent the trials Teresa will go through in the future relating to it, are all based on my own experiences facing my Shadow.

Parwen might find that she was not quite so lucky after all, given that the affections of Fathis Aren are easily, and only temporarily given. Then again, she did say she only wanted to ride the stallion, not buy him...


Lady Syl: Teresa has not quite realized just how much money she can make brewing her own potions. But she will eventually get there! You called it on Teresa dyeing her hair. It is an outward sign of the inner changes going on. She is not the same person she was at the beginning of the tale, and will continue to grow and change throughout the entire piece.


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: In our last episode Teresa marched to the tournament grounds with the rest of the FG to qualify. There she was amazed by the strength shown by Lum gro-Baroth as he took the first shots of the guild. Next, Teresa takes her own turn on the firing line, and officially gets her nickname.


Chapter 34.11 - The Tournament Of Archers

"Look, there's Daenlin," Tadrose nudged Teresa, and pointed to a Bosmer sitting in the stands. She could not make out his features very well in the distance, except to see that he had brown hair that was tousled around his head, as if blown that way by the wind. He wore simple leather trousers and a buckskin vest, and looked every inch the woodsman. Sitting beside him was another Bosmer, only she had long hair that was the color of corn silk. She too wore a hunter's garb of buckskin boots and greaves with a brown flax blouse, and leaned close to Daenlin.

"Who is that beside him?" Teresa asked, "his daughter?"

"In a manner of speaking," Tadrose smiled. "That is Dame Buffy, Knight of the White Stallion of Leyawiin. Everyone in Bravil knows her, because she grew up here. Nilawen took care of her after her parents died, and Daenlin has always been her teacher- oh look, Kurz is shooting."

Tadrose turned back from the pair of elves to watch the Orisimer begin his first round of shots. Teresa was not that interested, and glanced back to the scoreboard. Dame Buffy - she saw once more - had a score of eighty six. She must be some archer, Teresa thought as she looked back to the pair of wood elves, they both must be.

She wondered what it was like to have a teacher, a real teacher? Methredhel had taught her to shoot, after her father had shown her how. But while Methredhel was an able archer, she was never a champion either. She had always spent more time practicing picking locks and pockets, and less with the bow. In fact, Teresa had surpassed the other Bosmer's skills years ago.

On the other hand, Tadrose had said that Dame Buffy's parents had died. That was something she could relate to. She wondered when it had happened? Was it when Buffy was just an infant? Or had the other Bosmer had the chance to know her parents before their deaths? Teresa wondered what was worse - never knowing your mother and father at all, or having them, only to lose them?

Teresa sighed, and looked back to Kurz just in time to see him miss the target completely. His round was finished a moment later, and Teresa saw that she was next in line. Butterflies took flight in her stomach as she stepped up to the judge, and she licked her suddenly dry lips. The Redguard stared at her, and Teresa realized that she was waiting for her to introduce herself.

"Teresa," she forced out of her recalcitrant lips.

"Well Teresa, let's just take a moment and let them get your name up," the Redguard said. "Remember, your first flight is untimed, and your second timed, then the third at long range and untimed. Wait for my signal before you start each one."

Teresa nodded, and drew forth an arrow from the bag at her hip. Staring down at the shaft, she found no signs of warping. It would fly straight and true. As much so as she could shoot it.

"Now shooting for the Bravil Fighters Guild: Teresa of the Faint Smile!"

Teresa blinked at the sound of the announcer's voice. What had he said? She turned to look back at the scoreboard, and saw the same 'of the Faint Smile' added to her name there as well. Glancing back, she saw the assembled fighters were cheering for her. Except for Vincent Galien. The Breton swordsman had a wide grin on his face instead.

Teresa remembered when Pappy had told her about the tournament three days before. "So I had Vincent sign you up this morning."

"Teresa?" the voice of the Redguard came from behind the Bosmer. "You can start now."

The forester was tempted to shoot the Breton prankster instead. Now all of Bravil was going to know her by that stupid name! Her fingers curled into a fist around the arrow she held, and she turned to stare at the target down the field.

It was not very far, only fifty yards away. She smiled faintly as she imagined Vincent's face in the center of it. Drawing the string half-way back to her cheek, she sighted in on where her guild mate's nose would have been. She let out half of her breath, and then felt the feathers of her arrow tickling the soft flesh of her cheek.

She loosed, and a moment later the arrow sprouted from the ring that bordered the center of the target.

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"Nine!" Sinia accompanied her shout by holding up the same amount of fingers on her hands. A cheer rose from the ranks of the fighters behind Teresa, along with a smattering of applause from the crowd.

She drew a second arrow from the bag at her hip and set it to her bow. Again picturing Vincent's face in the middle of the target, she aimed and fired. Another nine. Finally she drew her third arrow, and sent it after the other two.

"Bullseye!" the line judge shouted, holding up all the fingers and thumbs on both her hands.

Teresa breathed deep and slowly exhaled. That was just the first flight, she knew. There were still two more to go. Closing her eyes, she tried to forget Vincent's prank, the amphitheater around her, even the guild members cheering and whistling at her back. There was nothing but her and the target.

She opened her eyes, and saw that Sinia was holding up a small hourglass. Teresa nodded to the Redguard, who turned it over in her hand. The sands within spilled downward, and Teresa reached for her first arrow.

There was nothing but her, the arrow, and the target, Teresa thought as she drew feathers to her cheek and loosed. Nothing but her, the arrow, and the target, she reminded herself as she did it again. Nothing else existed, and her final arrow sang along the thread binding all three together.

"Thirty!" Sinia exclaimed. "Perfect score!"

Teresa stared. She had not been paying attention to anything else while she was shooting. She had just been nocking her arrows and firing, exactly as she had done tens of thousands of times in practice. Tadrose had been right, as she always was. When the time came, the crowd had not mattered. She had known exactly what to do.

The cheers from behind heightened in volume, and Teresa glanced back to see the armorer beaming at her. Her heart felt as if it would fly from her chest. Tadrose could be so achingly beautiful at times, Teresa thought. If only there was some way she could tell the dark elf …

"Alright, time for your last round," Sinia declared. "There's no hurry, this one is not timed."

Teresa turned back to see that the target had been drawn back another fifty yards. She stepped up to the firing line and drew another arrow from her bag. Breathing deeply, she tried to calm her racing heart and pulled the arrow halfway back to her cheek. An extra hundred and fifty feet, she thought, she would have to add height to compensate. Which way was the wind blowing? From the north? She moved her shot a tick to the left. Too high? She lowered it a bit, and her arms began to tremble from the strain now.

Damn it, stop thinking so much! Teresa silently growled. Just shoot!

She loosed, and stared after the arrow as it flew downrange. It buried itself into the outermost ring on the target. A sigh rose from the crowd as they saw the same thing. Teresa screwed her eyes shut, and bit her lip. Cacat! The wood elf shook her head. She could do better than that! She had done better, with people trying to kill her!

Resolving to not lose her focus again, Teresa drew another arrow and stared down at the target. It was no different from practice, she thought as she pulled the string halfway back and sighted again. No different. Just adjust for range, watch that wind, and loose.

This time the arrow plunked in the same ring, only on the other side of the target.

Teresa scowled. She was better than this! She knew she could do better! Her heart galloped like a Quarter Horse, and she wiped the palms of her gloved hands against her hips. Why was she falling apart?

She drew her final arrow, and once more sighted in. She only had to concentrate better. Just take more time, and pay closer attention to the wind, distance, and all the other factors in making the shot. Analyze it all, she told herself, and shoot when she was ready. Not a moment before.

Then her last shot was in the air, and a moment later it sprouted in the target. Again it rose from the outermost ring, only this time at the top.

"Tough break Teresa," Sinia said in a conciliatory tone. "But a seventy six is nothing to sneeze at. You're sure to make the finals with that."

Teresa shook her head, and slunk away from the firing line. She knew that everyone was staring at her. No doubt pointing their fingers and laughing at her failure. She was nothing but a prole, and that was all she would ever be: a nothing.

Yet when she looked up to see the face of Tadrose Helas, it was not ridicule that she saw etched upon the vice-commander's features. Nor was it pity. Rather the Dunmer's eyes glowed with something Teresa imagined might be pride. There was certainly no mistaking the wide grin that crested her lips, nor with the warm embrace that she wrapped Teresa with.

"You did it!" the dark elf cried. The next thing she knew, Tadrose kissed her. It was just a quick peck on the cheek. Not even slightly romantic at all. Yet once more, the wood elf felt her heart threaten to leap from her chest. She was certain that her face had turned redder than her hair as Tadrose let go, and the rest of the fighters crowded in to congratulate her.

I stand my my earlier comment about Teresa's attitude. But I will now add, it's so true how that attitude will change in the heat of competition. I've been in her shoes before. I remember running track in PE in sixth grade. I'm one of those kids who never performed well in athletic endeavors. Yet that day when the teacher fired the blank, I was the first off the starting line and stayed that way through the entire 1000 meter run around the makeshift track in the middle of the grassy field. The feeling I had at the finish line was YAY! So I know what it's like to be dragged into a competition you really don't want to be a part of, and find yourself wanting to just show everybody how good you are.

That said, on to this chapter:


Ooooh, that Vincent! That good-for-nothing dastard!

Now I need to tell you that Julian is laughing at this. She said she would've shot that Breton one of her famous pilus looks (which I may add is somewhat more painful than an arrow)! She also said that Teresa of the Faint Smile is much better than Julian of Anvil!

Now, now, a competition isn't survival. And believe me, survival is way better than coming in first at a competition.

Aww, Tadrose! Friends like that (and let's not forget Ancondil) are worth more than all the gold and diamonds in Nirn!

WHEW! I found I was holding my breath on that last round along with Teresa !! This chapter has so many points that thrilled; the description and conjecture about Buffy, Teresa's own endearing nervousness and awkwardness (till she got mad at Vincent) - her picturing of him on the face of the target was hilarious, even knowing she would do it. - her last round where her nerves and tension overcame her and finally the kiss from Tadrose and Teresa's reaction.

You have done a wonderful job with this chapter, I was riveted from beginning to end - and have added it to my top fave Teresa episodes. AWESOME WRITE !!! (as always !!)

Oooh the tournament itself, and it's well written and exciting. The part with her shooting was excellent. She appears to have developed a nickname too, well it was going to happen and there's plenty worse.


I liked this line. Little bits of humour make this piece sparkle aling with the characters.


She has Pappy (and the others at the guild). Interesting how little she realises this - she seems to learn from everyone but not quite realise it. With archery like that she'll be teaching soon enough.

I notice that her distance archery is worse than her closer work. Something to work on beofer the finals I think (that and staying calm).

And some more developments with Tadrose. Is the dunmer down to shoot or just watching, and will there be shoe shopping?

It's a good thing Tadrose didn't do that before she took her turn!

She obviously needs a more villainous mental target for the longer distances. Perhaps she'll meet Kurdan?

What a beautiful and emotional roller coaster!

The first strong emotion was my own, at your beautiful description of the reigning champion and his young protégée. I found it lovely that while Buffy was enviously considering the camaraderie of the Fighters Guild team, Teresa was enviously considering what it would be like to have a master archer as a teacher. How very typical of both our elves!

Then, Red's temper at Vincent sharing Teresa's nickname with several thousand of her closest friends! But that anger helped her to do well in the first flight. Aim for the nose!

The second flight was pure magic, as best illustrated here:
Nothing but her, the arrow, and the target, she reminded herself as she did it again. Nothing else existed, and her final arrow sang along the thread binding all three together.
Magnificent phrasing for a magnificent talent that Teresa does not full understand. I have no doubt that, in time, she will however.

I know she was disappointed in her third flight and even realizes herself that she was thinking too hard. And how quickly does her feelings about her own performance flit from pride to shame. I was so pleased to see the steady smile of pride from Tadrose that Teresa deserved. And a quick kiss to top it off!


Nit: She loosed, and moment later the arrow sprouted in the ring bordering the center of the target.
I think you wanted moments instead of moment (or perhaps a moment?).