Actually, he needs to try my Special Equine Brew.

190 proof. Flavored with fresh bones. Instant liver cirrhosis. . .

Given the backdrop that Teresa has made huge progress in reconnecting with her forest and ability to defend herself, this was a welcome episode filled with some wonderful world building. And a mystery. Why indeed are trolls roaming this area that is normally outside their range?

Cutting her arrows free � another thrifty wood elf.

Trolls as corrupted apes! What an intriguing idea and certainly there is some resemblance. In fact I like the way you wove the story with aspects of lore, ranging from the great apes to Corprus and Valenwood to Morrowind. Neat how your trolls� appearance varies greatly depending on the region.

"Well, between you and me, I think that story's just a load of imp chips," Pappy said. "I think orcs were always the way they are now. I've seen what Daedric power does to things in Morrowind. It corrupts them, like the Ashwalkers, or Dagoth Ur. There's not a damn thing warped or twisted about an orc."
Yay! Imp chips! Pappy�s my hero � I so like his attitude regarding orcs. I have great respect for their simple and beautiful nobility. I was delighted to, in the very next paragraph, see that Teresa agrees!

Pappy may know his hard liquor, but I�ll trust Teresa�s palette when it comes to wine. Yay Tamicka�s!

Loved the detail you put into Terresa cleaning herself up a bit after digging for arrows.

Teresa noted that it left a single feather behind it, laying on the chest of the dead troll.

I knew right away that this would be added to the velvet bag somehow, in fact I have been wondering what would make it in there next. I especially love this because I don�t remember Teresa discussing it with anyone, it is just something that has grown through her spiritual journey. Unless I have forgotten something.


"What worries me most right now though is that it shouldn't be here," Pappy continued. "This has never been troll country. They're all to the west, in the West Weald. This is bear and wolf country."

"So how did it get here?" Teresa asked. "Is something driving them out of the Weald?"

I wonder, too!


"So how do we stop them?" Teresa finished with her second arrow, and was pleased to see that its shaft remained straight and true. She wiped its head clean and set it aside. Then she regarded her fingers, now dripping with blood.

I admit I was expecting Teresa to use her Bloom spell here. I guess with trolls about, it makes more sense to conserve magicka. Since the thought of more trolls did not make her shiver with terror, I�m convinced that she�s really back on her feet. Which is good news, since she just signed up to stop the trolls!!


"We don't stop them," Pappy grumbled with a sour face.

Hmm, somehow I don�t think Teresa is just going to let it go. Those trolls are still threatening the bears and wolves, after all.


Even though I see the natural/magical/unnatural creatures differently, the way Pappy explains it works very well for me in the TF. I loved the natural history lesson as much as the easy kid/old man way Teresa and Pappy have with one another.

haute ecole rider: Pappy has pretty well done it all or at least seen it all. He makes an excellent mentor for youngin's like Teresa. Except of course when it comes to teaching them to drink and swear!


ghastley: I remember those old days of D&D! Peppermint Schnapps? That sounds just a bit too girly for a manly man like Pappy. I suspect that he might try his hand at flin next.


Acadian: I am sure I am not the only one who got the idea of trolls corrupted apes, given their very simian appearance. I just decided to roll with that, and that conversation allowed to be bring out all those other things you noted.

On orcs, I think the idea of them being corrupted elves works in a setting where they are supposed to be dyed in the wool evil. But not in one where they are just a race of big strong guys (like in Earthdawn or Shadowrun, or ES). Stories of them being corrupted work just fine, since I am sure the prettier races would all dis the orcs, just like the Beautiful People always do to those less endowed. But I think if they really were corrupted, they would not be the same as everyone else, as they are presented.


Grits: You hit the nail right on the head with the feather. You are right, Teresa has never discussed it with anyone else. She doesn't really talk about her spirituality with other people. Perhaps that will change in the future though?

I hate to say it, but I was so focused on Teresa picking her flowers, that I forgot all about her Bloom spell! Thank goodness you mentioned it. I went back and worked it in. I also have thank you for an idea you just gave me that will solve the plot issues I have been having with chapter 41!


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: In our last episode, Teresa learned a bit more about trolls, including that fact that the ones menacing Bravil are normally only found in the West Weald. In our next episode, the subject turns to a certain Dunmer armorer of Teresa's acquaintance.


Chapter 39.5 � Picking Flowers

Teresa and Pappy inspected the line of trees where they had seen the troll. There was no sign of more, so Teresa went back to picking more lavender. When she was sure she had enough for another month of potions - and hair gel - she led her guild commander back down toward the river.

"We'll find more bolete down by the water," she said. "It likes the damp soil."

Rather than go back the same route they had come from, Teresa instead took them west, farther away from Bravil and civilization. She paused when she came upon a patch of bright blue flax, and stopped to pick their seeds.

"So what are you going to do about Tadrose?" Pappy said. As when she had harvested the lavender, he stood beside her, eyes scanning the trees around for danger.

"Tadrose?" Teresa wondered aloud. What on Nirn could the old man be talking about?

"Yes Tadrose," Pappy winked. "Blue skin, black hair, eyes like fire. I'm sure you've noticed her."

Teresa rolled her eyes at the older man's joke. "I didn't realize I came out here with Vincent," she said.

"Aww don't give me that kid," Pappy said. "I've seen the way you look at her, when you think no one else is watching. And I've seen the way she looks at you. When are you going to take your shot?"

"Take my shot?" Teresa felt her skin growing hot. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do," Pappy insisted. "If I know anything, it's women. No one else has noticed. Except maybe Ancondil. I don't think the others have figured out that you're sapphic. It never occurs to most people."

"And it does to you?" Teresa turned and looked back up at the Colovian.

"Like I told you before kid, I was born at night, but not last night." The guild commander's eyes moved from the greenery around them to meet Teresa's. "I can tell when a woman doesn't like beef. You won't touch it with a ten foot fork."

"So what is it to you?" Teresa asked. She wondered if a lecture on Imperial morality was coming? Unlike elves, humans could be so touchy about people's sexuality.

"It isn't anything to me." The Colovian shrugged. "I'm just asking. You're both in my chapter, so why shouldn't I? I can tell you one thing. As long as I have been in Bravil, I've never seen Tadrose show the slightest bit of interest in anyone. Believe me, there's been plenty of men who'd eat a mile of her crap just to lick where it came from too. But she wouldn't have anything to do with them. Then you came along, and now she can't take her eyes off you."

"You're imaging things," Teresa shook her head.

"Am I?" Pappy's gaze turned back to the woods around them. "We never got a milk delivery, until you said you liked it. Now we get it every morning. Tadrose never made a point to always sit beside someone at every meal, until you. She never once set foot inside that theater, until you asked her to go. You think she ever made anyone a suit of armor like that miran-talurn rig for free? Think again sweetheart. She's got it bad for you."

Teresa shook her head again, and turned her attention back to the flax. If only what Pappy said was true, she thought to herself. But in her heart, she knew it was not. Tadrose did not care for her, not like that at least. Not even Nerussa did. She just was not the kind of person other people fell in love with, and never would be.

"If I were you kid, I wouldn't wait forever," Pappy went on, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was trying to ignore him. "Even you elves aren't getting any younger."

Teresa said nothing. Instead she rose to her feet, packed her flax seed away, and strode down the hillside. The sound of crunching leaves and creaking leather told her that the Colovian was following, and Teresa purposely lent speed to her feet to make his passage more difficult.

Tadrose interested in her? Teresa snorted. The Count was more likely to fall in love with her than Tadrose!

The rushing of water soon came to Teresa's ears, and its slight dampness filled her nostrils. She slowed down, and began studying the ground around her carefully for any signs of mushrooms. Her efforts were not rewarded with toadstools, but instead something that almost brought a faint smile to her lips.

It was a footprint in the moist soil. She squatted down beside it, and stretched her hand out over the depression. Her fist was dwarfed by the wide paw print, which bore the tiny holes before each digit that were characteristic of claws.

Teresa glanced back up as Pappy came to a stop behind her. "This is no more than an hour old," she said.

"A griz eh?" The Colovian said. "Better than the last critter we came across."

"Hey bear!" Teresa called out as she rose to her feet. Once again she resumed her walk toward the river, calling out the same thing every few moments. Confident that they would not surprise the bear whose print she had found, she stepped down to the shore of the Larsius.

Casting her gaze to and fro, she found the grizzly hundreds of feet away, near the river's edge. She was laying on her stomach along a fallen timber, legs trailing down either side of the tree trunk. Her fur was soaking wet, and her chest gently rose and fell as she sunned herself.

Screenshot

"Well there's our culprit," Pappy said in low voice. "Let's just leave it be, and head upstream."

But Teresa's feet refused to move in that direction. Instead they propelled her toward the bear. The grizzly lifted her head and stared as the wood elf approached. Then her massive body exploded into motion. In seconds she leapt off the tree trunk and trotted down the riverbank toward Teresa.

The wood elf smiled faintly as the grizzly approached, and slowed to a walk as the majestic animal closed the distance. She knelt as the bear stepped up to her, and wrapped her arms around the thick neck of the furred colossus. A welcome rumble issued form the throat of the grizzly, and the next thing Teresa knew, a wet tongue was slopping across her features.

"Barenziah!" Teresa gasped when it was finally safe for her to open her mouth. "I missed you so much!"

One thing I've always wondered about having friends (human or otherwise) who are MUCH bigger than you - they have to be really careful at all times, for 'what's sport to the giant is death to the dwarf'.

But other than that...I think having a bear as a pal is cool! Now, if only she can talk like Pappy, and tell Teresa that love is in the air, everywhere you look around...

Add another Huzzah! for Pappy! Yes, of course he would notice the sapphic indications in both Teresa and Tadrose! After all, he's got an eye for the women, and with the experience he's got, he must be able to tell if a woman's interested in him or not!

One nit: Now granted this is part of Pappy's dialogue, but as your and you're are pretty much pronounced the same way so as to be indistinguishable, I would replace that with you're, since that is what Pappy intended.

And Barenziah is back! So which is worse? Wet bear fur? Or wet bear tongue? Or fishy bear breath? Hmmm, not a mystery I care to solve myself, if you know what I mean. Are you sure that was only a faint smile on Teresa's face on Barenziah's approach?

I got more than a faint smile from this episode! What a wonderful job with the backdrop of a trek through the forest for Pappy�s accurate observations and Teresa�s inaccurate perceptions of them.

�When she was sure she had enough for another month of potions � and hair gel - she led her guild commander back down toward the river.�

"Like I told you before kid, I was born at night, but not last night."

I loved seeing Barenziah again. Getting hugged by her is no doubt as wonderful (and potentially dangerous) as getting hugged by Mazoga!

I�m so glad that Teresa has gotten her fear of the forest mojo mostly under control. Now to return her focus to her fear of the dark elven lass. Here�s hoping that the perceptive Pappy or Ancondil has or will have a similar chat with the guild�s deputy commander.

Let me see.

Teresa has no problem with hugging a grizzly bear, but she does have problems doing the same with Tadrose.

Pappy distills his own rotgut that will "put hairs on your chest" (his own words).

How much of his rotgut should he feed to Tadrose, so that Teresa can't distinguish her from a bear?

I�m guessing that Pappy evaluates his chances of getting laid every time he interacts with a female, so the T&T attraction would stand out like a flashing light to him. I�m delighted that he picked up on it, as well as guessing that Ancondil is close enough to Teresa to possibly know. Also nice to get confirmation that there have been no awkward blushing moments between Teresa and Val, at least none that were witnessed.


"So what is it to you?" Teresa asked. She wondered if a lecture on Imperial morality was coming? Unlike elves, humans could be so touchy about people's sexuality.

"It isn't anything to me." The Colovian shrugged.

This is a relief, and not because of their gender. As much as I was hoping that Pappy wasn�t blind to the situation, I was worried that he would frown on a relationship between two of his resident guild members, or between his vice-commander and her subordinate.


"Barenziah!" Teresa gasped when it was finally safe for her to open her mouth. "I missed you so much!"

Slimed by a bear! How wonderful to see Bearenziah. Her riverside bear nap was the highlight of the whole return to the forest for me. Maybe soon Teresa will realize that she can trust Pappy�s judgment in all matters, or perhaps Pappy will encourage Tadrose to plant one on Teresa, bear-style.

D.Foxy: Thank goodness that Teresa can heal herself! I always think of Doug Seus and Bart the Bear when I picture Teresa and Bearenziah.


haute ecole rider: I think fishy bear breath is probably the worse. I am sure Teresa can fix that with some bergamot though. Only a faint smile though. We will not be seeing more than that for a while.


Acadian: Teresa cannot forget that hair gel! A girl has her priorities after all. I never thought of comparing Bearenziah to Sir Mazoga. Perfect!


ghastley: Somehow I think Teresa could tell though...


Grits: I put a lot of thought into whether there would be no fraternizing rules in the FG. After all Pappy lost his job as Guild Champion after being accused of showing favoritism to female members who slept with him. I don't see the FG as really being a very formal organization, with a lot of strict rules outside of the no felons and the guild's percentage of contracts. Not just internal regulations, but also in how the guild interacts with the rest of society. I figure each chapter varies wildly according to its leadership. For example, we know that Pappy works well with Kud-Ei, so the Bravil FG also has a good relationship with the MG. But I imagine there is absolutely no cooperation between Burz and Falcar in Cheydhinhal. So while Teresa gets a discount in spell instruction, Keld of the Isles over in Cheydinhal get does not.

What I eventually came up with is that there is no official policy on fraternization, but OTOH, it can lead to the same accusations that Pappy suffered from. So it is certainly frowned upon. If Tadrose ever became a guild commander, it would eventually become an issue. I can see Teresa simply quitting the guild at that point.

It also caused me to sit down and think about exactly what Tadrose does compared to Pappy. As XO, her main job is to see to the day-to-day running of the guild hall. She pays the bills, hires and oversees the domestic staff, that sort of thing. While Pappy is the one who negotiates the contracts, and assigns them to members. We have never really seen what Tadrose's responsibilities are. Perhaps I can illuminate them in chapter 41 though.


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: In our last episode, Pappy dropped a ton of bricks on Teresa concerning how much Tadrose is attracted to her. Teresa also had a happy reunion with her bear friend Barenziah. Next - in our final segment of this chapter - we return to Bravil, and Tadrose


Chapter 39.6 � Picking Flowers

"Gaius told me that his heart nearly stopped when you ran up to the bear." Tadrose twisted her fork around a glob of udon noodles. "You really shouldn't do that to him you know. He's not as young as you or I."

Teresa smiled faintly as she looked at the Dunmer. The pair sat at a food stand just off Riverwalk. People of all races were crowded around, eating the same udon. An Argonian worked behind the counter cooking more of the noodles and the thin broth they served it in. Another chopped scallions and sprinkled them atop the bowls of hot udon that she served to the customers. A third lizardine collected the used bowls and forks, hastily washed them, and gave them back to the second to use again. It looked frantic and chaotic, but the Argonians never missed a customer, noodle, or bowl.

"I know," Teresa said. "I just could not help it. I haven't seen Barenziah since the tournament. I was just so relieved that she was alright, I had to give her a hug."

"You are the only person I know who would even think of hugging a bear." Tadrose smiled and shook her head. "You're mad, you know that don't you?"

"I'm just myself," Teresa shrugged.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way Teresa," Tadrose smiled again. "So did you really spend the entire day with the bear? Gaius said that was your plan when he came back to the guild hall, dejected."

"All night too." Teresa paused to take a bite of the hot, soft noodles. The broth was delicate, but tasty, and she took a moment to savor it before swallowing. "I take it that means Pappy had to go to the ball then?"

"Aye," Tadrose nodded around a mouthful of the noodles. "He hates them. Our guild commander is more at home drinking moonshine and playing cards then dancing and making small talk with aristocrats. But he has to go to keep up contacts. Many of our contracts come from patricians and equites who meet him at the balls."

"So why don't you ever go?" Teresa asked before taking a sip of milk. "It sounds like he'd be happy for you to take his place."

"Balls are not for me." Tadrose looked away for a moment, then turned her gaze back to Teresa. "Besides, I have work in the forge to do."

"Is that what you do because of Bruma?" Teresa found the words spilling from her mouth before she could dam them up, and instantly regretted it.

The Dunmer stared back at Teresa for long moments. The wood elf felt her heart lurch in her chest. Had she just ruined her chances with the armorer? Would she be offended, or hurt?

"Maybe it is," Tadrose finally said in a soft voice. "Working on metal gets my mind off� the other things in life. It gives me a sense of peace I never thought I'd find again after Morrowind. That is what the forest is to you, is it not?"

Teresa nodded, and slurped up another forkful of noodles. She had not failed to note that Tadrose had mentioned Morrowind again. The armorer rarely ever spoke of her life there, and always changed the subject immediately afterward. What had happened to her there? What had made her leave, and move to Bravil of all places? The most she had ever said was that she had made a mistake once. What did that mean? What kind of mistake made someone leave an entire province?

"The forest is the home I never knew I had," Teresa finally said when her mouth was empty. "I never set foot in it before last Spring. But now it's where I feel most alive."

"I thought so," Tadrose said. "I was worried that you might not go when Gaius asked you."

Teresa's eyebrows beetled together. "How did you know he was going to do that?" the forester asked.

"It was my idea," Tadrose admitted. "That is why I hid your ingredients. But Gaius insisted he be the one to bring it up, and go with you."

"You hid my-" Teresa gaped at the armorer. "But that�"

"Yes, I know, it was devious," the vice-commander said. "But I didn't know any other way to get you back out in the forest. As the saying goes: 'If the mountain won't go to the Tribunal, then the Tribunal must go to the mountain.' I am glad you went, I can see the difference in you."

"You can?" Teresa blinked, not sure what to think after the Dunmer's admission. Could Pappy have been right after all? Could Tadrose's meddling be because she truly did care? Or was she just a meddler by nature? How well did she really know the dark elf?

"It is like you are an entirely different person," Tadrose insisted. "Whatever it was you needed, it looks like you found it out there."

"I suppose so," Teresa stared down at her empty bowl. "I had a lot of time to think, with just me and Barenziah."

"And?" Tadrose's hand drifted extremely close to Teresa's, nearly enough to touch.

"If these ones are going to sit, more noodles they will order." A husky voice came to Teresa's ears. Both she and Tadrose looked up at the same time to find one of the Argonians standing over them. "Otherwise these ones must make room for others."

A glance around showed more people standing in line to eat. Feeling sheepish, Teresa rose to her feet and allowed the Argonian to clear away her bowl. With Tadrose in tow, she walked to a low, wooden railing. Beyond it the ground sloped down sharply to the interior harbor, where the masts of a tall galleon rose beside one of the docks. Teresa sat down and slipped her legs between the molded shafts of the barricade, and rested her arms upon the coping.

"What was it like for you, after Bruma?" Teresa turned to Tadrose. The Dunmer sat gently upon the thick railing and looked down at Teresa.

"To be honest, I was never very close with anyone in the guild then." The armorer's eyes took on a faraway look as she spoke. "But it was still hard. Everything felt unreal for me, like I had been kicked in the head by a horse and was in a fog."

"It didn't really sink in until we came back, and the hall was so empty. It was always filled with life, the way it is now. I kept expecting to see Corentin reading a new book in the sitting room, or Hirtuleius carving up a side of venison in the kitchen. I kept waiting to hear Paol arguing over a card game, or Morning-Star bragging about Storm-Tail's grades."

"Even now, whenever I step in your room I expect to see Seridwe at the dressing table, doing up her hair. She was always so incredibly vain about that. Sometimes it seemed like there was nothing more important in her life. That's why Gaius had the best hairdresser in Bruma style it for her, before we buried her."

"It must be hard to stay here, with all those memories." Now Teresa found her fingers drifting over Tadrose's.

"It was, at first." Tadrose turned her hand over, and gently wrapped her fingers around those of Teresa. "But you cannot run forever. Eventually you have to face your Daedra."

"So how did you face yours?" Teresa bit her lip as she stared into the dark elf's eyes.

"It was not any one sudden moment of epiphany, if that is what you are thinking," Tadrose replied. "I just came to accept what happened, and understand that what we did was the right thing. Their deaths were not pointless. They made a real difference. Someday it might be my turn, and I will do the same. Because some things are worth sacrificing for, worth dying for."

Teresa nodded, and looked back down the slope of the riverbank to the ship below. Its decks were swarming with stevedores carrying off its cargo. The larger - and Teresa imagined heavier - crates were loaded together on a net and hauled up the steep riverbank by a crane and winch at street level. The smaller bags and sacks were simply carried up the stairs over the shoulders of burly Orisimer, Imperials, and a few men of other races.

"What has it been like, for you?" Tadrose broke the silence.

"The same," Teresa breathed. She looked back up at Tadrose. "I keep thinking I am going to see Marius whenever I step through the North Gate. I never really thought about it when he was alive, but he was my friend, and I miss him."

Teresa swallowed hard, and looked away as she felt her throat tighten up, choking off her words. Tadrose's fingers were warm however, and squeezed her own gently. That was enough to dispel the knot in her throat, and Teresa looked back to the Dunmer.

"I've seen a lot of people die this year Tadrose," she found herself saying. "Maybe not a lot to other people, but a lot to me. The Emperor, Marius, Attius, Gelephor, and people whose names I'll never even know. I heard Emperor Martin's last words, just before he died, just as I did his father's. I can still see their faces, when I close my eyes."

"They've made me realize something." Teresa's eyes grew bleary with barely restrained tears. "I'm not alone in this world. I can't just go on like the lives of other people are not affected by me, or me by theirs. I'm a part of something greater than just myself, something more important. I have a responsibility to the people around me, to do better than I have, to do more. I have to make up for my mistakes, so that those faces won't stare at me unkindly. The Emperor told me that it is our choices in life that define us. I never really understood that until now."

Tadrose sighed, and sat down beside the Bosmer. Teresa felt one of the dark elf's arms wrap around her, and draw her close. She let her head fall onto Tadrose's shoulder, and closed her eyes as the Dunmer's other hand caressed her face. Teresa held on tight to the other woman, and let her tears slip free.

"You are a good person Teresa," the Dunmer whispered into her ear. "In time, those faces won't seem like they're accusing. They'll just be old friends stopping by to say hello."

Finally the first step onto the dance floor! I loved this little scene with the Argonian noodles and the heart to heart between Tadrose and Teresa. They're still dancing around the real issue, but they're getting closer, and I'm beginning to feel that something is inevitable.

Coming from Tadrose, this statement made me do a double take. Of course, when I write about balls, I usually mean something totally different. Like stones. So this is totally appropriate coming from Tadrose on more than one level!

And it's a good time for Teresa to sum up all the death she's seen, all the friends and acquaintances she's lost in the short time since Emperor Uriel's death.

Oh, now I need to slurp some slippery noodles! I love the Argonian noodle stand with its view of the harbor.

"Balls are not for me."

Come on, Teresa, she just spelled it out for you! OK, not really, but that made me snort.

What a wonderful, tender conversation. It looks like they are developing a strong, respectful relationship without either of them having their hopes for more confirmed by the other. I think that will help them weather whatever might come next. I am so pleased to see Teresa reach her own understanding about her connection to other people. A beautiful end to the chapter!

A lovely episode made even better by the slippery backdrop of Argonian noodles!

"You really shouldn't do that to him you know. He's not as young as you or I."
Readers know that Tadrose is not so much older than Teresa, but Teresa did not know that I think � until now. Elven age is so hard to estimate and Tadrose just whisked many decades away from her possible age (from Teresa�s perspective) � beautifully and lightly done, SubRosa!

�Teresa's eyebrows beetled together.�
You have used this wonderful description before in TF and I like it very much for the clear meaning it conveys in a picturesque manner.

Ahah! So Tadrose did hide Teresa�s ingredients! I�m so proud of myself for suspecting that Pappy and/or Tadrose had a hand in the great forest caper!

"In time, those faces won't seem like they're accusing. They'll just be old friends stopping by to say hello."
This is lovely, and a perfect way to end the episode.


Nit?
"Yes, I know, it was a devious," the vice-commander said.
Was the �a� unintentional? It seems to not belong.

-sniff, sniff-

The last part was so touching ♥

haute ecole rider: I really liked that scene because it was the first shared intimacy between the two. Unfortunately, it will be a little while before Teresa has the opportunity for more of the like.


Grits: You two love your balls! That realization of her responsibilities to the rest of the world was one of the very few things that ever happened to me in the game which made it over to the TF. It was also one of the things that prompted me to start writing the TF a few years ago. It is so nice to finally get to that point, after only 39 chapters.


Acadian: I see another noodle appreciator. I think I know the secret to writing a segment people will like. Just put food in it! Indeed, now Teresa does have a good idea about Tadrose's age. Much younger than it could have been! I am so glad that so many people guessed that Pappy and Tadrose were behind Teresa's ingredient shortage. It was not in my first draft, but when I was doing the 3rd draft or so I decided to make it so, and try to leave some very subtle clues in the way Teresa was surprised at how low the stock had become.


Jacki Dice: Believe me, Teresa would like some more touching then that! But it is a good start.


Chapter 40.1 � The Hunter

4th - 6th Sun's Dusk, 3E433

Teresa sat in the foyer of the guild hall and thumbed through A History of the Fighters Guild. She glanced at the pages only absent-mindedly however. History had never interested her much, except when it was about the Arimer of course. She sighed and stood up. Stepping to one of the several bookcases that lined the walls, she slid the leather-bound tome between the other books. Humming to herself, she let her fingers run along the spines of the other volumes there.

If only Tadrose was back, she thought, or Pappy. Or anyone else for that matter. Then she would not be left with the job of minding the hall. Yet she knew that Tadrose would be busy all morning teaching the farmers of Springtree quick and dirty tricks for fighting trolls. Ancondil, Chance, Vincent, and Valerius were busy doing the same in other villages along the Green Road. Storm-Tail was already on another contract outside the city as well. With Pappy away visiting his parents in the Imperial City, that left her the only guild member left. Not counting Tavian of course.

"It will be fine Teresa," she could still hear Tadrose's voice in her memory. "I'll be back by the afternoon. Just keep an eye on things until then." Keep an eye on things, Teresa thought. That meant that she was in charge of the guild! She had only been in Bravil for two and a half months, and she was in charge! What was she going to do if someone actually wanted to hire them?

If only she knew how to fight with spears, clubs, or other heavy things. Then she could have gone on the training expeditions, and someone else could have stayed behind. Unfortunately, teaching farmers archery was not an option. She knew as well as anyone that she was not going to train someone to shoot a bow in one morning. Archery took years to master. She had been using a bow for a decade, and was still learning.

Teresa's heart sank at the sound of the door opening. Here it comes, she thought, her first test as acting guild commander. Looking up, she tried to force a faint smile to her lips. She failed miserably. Instead she simply stared at the Orisimer who loomed in the doorway. Her hair was a sandy brown in shade, that looked brighter and redder than it really was to next to her green skin. It was tied back in one of the elaborate braids favored by the Bretons, that framed her face with its plaits, and trailed down to a short ponytail behind her head. Her eyes bore the yellow irises of all her race, and her lips were a deep shade of purple. Teresa wondered if the latter was her natural shade, or makeup? Either way, it looked striking.

She was clad from neck down in armor of orcish design - a variety of overlapping scales in some places, and small, rectangular plates sewn together in others. The pauldrons over her shoulders were large, jutting out almost like wings, and a pair of snarling beast-heads rose above each of her breasts. She held a goggled helmet in one hand, and a large duffel bag in the other. A large, round shield was slung across her back. Tucked into her waist belt was a bronze-colored hand-axe that was obviously of Dwemer design. Possessing a long, crescent-shaped blade, its handle ended in the twin antennae design so common to dwarven manufacture. Two smaller axes with small, arch-shaped heads of ordinary steel were tucked into her belt as well, and Teresa wondered if they might be for throwing?

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"Welcome to the Fighters Guild," the wood elf said. She wondered what the orc would want with them? She looked more than able to deal with any problem that requiring fighting. "I am Teresa. What can the guild do for you?"

"You can give me something to do," the green mountain of steel and muscle rumbled. She set her bag down at her feet. "I hear your guild is hiring people, who've got the stones for it."

Do you have those too? Teresa wondered. She decided it would be best not to ask.

"We are always on the lookout for good people," Teresa said. "I can't hire you though. You'll have to wait until Tadrose gets back. She's our vice-commander. It should be some time this afternoon."

The orc frowned, and Teresa was struck by her eyes. It was difficult, given the Orisimer coloring, but now she recognized the look in them. It was that same empty stare that she had seen in the mirror for weeks after Marius' death.

"I can tell you what it's like to work for the guild though," Teresa went on. She did not want to simply brush the other woman off. Not after whatever horrors she had been through. With her own experience so fresh in her memory, she could not turn aside someone so clearly in pain. Or rather so numbed that they could not feel pain - or anything else - any longer.

"Very well," the orc sighed. "Give me all the ugly details."

"Well, for starters we cannot take you if you've been found guilty of a capital offense," Teresa said. "If you have been, just walk out the door. Because they will find out. Every member has to go through a background check."

"I'm not a criminal!" the Orisimer spat.

"I'm not saying you are," Teresa replied. "But the guild has to check regardless. Our charter with the Empire requires it. That reminds me, there's something else we can do while you're here�" Teresa stepped to the main corridor that led deeper into the building and waved for the orc to follow. "We may as well get this over with now."

Teresa led the much larger woman down the hallway, and turned a corner. Either side of the corridor before them was lined with wanted posters. They were arranged by race and sex, and in moments the two mer were standing in front of the section reserved for female orcs. The forester was not sure what she was going to do if she saw the other woman's face among the broadsheets. However, she did fix the symbol for her Burning Hand firmly in mind, just in case.

"Well, I don't see you here." Teresa breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to the Orisimer. "I didn't get your name?"

"You don't already know?" The much taller woman rumbled. For a moment Teresa wondered if it was conceit she heard in the orc's voice. But the surprise in her eyes looked genuine.

"Should I?" Teresa felt one of her eyebrows rise. Just who was this giant of a woman?

"Morghak gra-Durug." The orc seemed to deflate, as if speaking her name was something she dreaded.

Teresa just stared. The name did sound familiar, but try as she might, the forester could not place it.

"From the Arena," the other woman said. Clearly, she was expecting Teresa to understand. Yet the wood elf merely shrugged.

"So you're a gladiator." The forester motioned the orc to follow her back to the foyer. "Then I'm sure you can handle the fighting. Tadrose will still have to test you anyway though."

"You really don't know me then?" The sound in the gladiator's voice was almost hopeful. As if she looked forward to the idea of anonymity.

Teresa stopped in the hallway and turned back to look at the armored orc. "I'm sorry, I don't follow the Arena. I've only been there once, and that was ten years ago."

"Then maybe I came to the right place after all," the other woman said. Again, she sounded relieved. As if a total stranger was the best friend she might ever have.

"Say, would you like a drink?" Teresa asked. "Our commander makes his own homebrew. His latest creation is vodka. He says it's just like from the Wrothgarians."

"By Trinimac's bloody sack, I'm from Orsinium!" the other woman almost smiled. "Lead on Teresa, and I'll tell you if its real vodka or not."

Aha! A kindred spirit! In social graces, I mean. It seems that Morghak is seeking anonymity. I wonder why? And finally maybe Ancondil might get lucky? That is, if Morghak isn't sapphic? She certainly does have the same trouble with smiles that Teresa has.

I know what it's like to be "in charge" of the business while the boss is away. Had that happen too often for a while. For the most part it wasn't bad - such things are seldom as bad as we think they will be.

I love how you are populating Tamriel so thoroughly with such vivid characters. Not just fleshing out the NPC's, but also introducing us to new ones, like Chance and Pappy and Vincent and now Morghak.

I�m glad the nearby villagers are getting some training in troll fighting. It would be great if the trolls would go after the skooma smugglers.

"Morghak gra-Durug." The orc seemed to deflate, as if speaking her name was something she dreaded.

Teresa just stared. The name did sound familiar, but try as she might, the forester could not place it.

She who was reputedly more than friends with Agronak, I believe. And she challenged the new Grand Champion. I�m really glad it wasn�t Chance or Vincent in charge when Morghak showed up. I doubt that she would want a spirited debate about her recent Arena adventure, however it turned out.

Teresa is doing a great job as acting commander. �Good morning, and welcome to the Fighters Guild. Would you like a shot of vodka?� Jerric needs to get to Bravil before Pappy hides his stash.

I'm looking forward to learning more about Morghak.

As you so astutely pointed out in your noodle comments, one way to my heart is to feed me. Another is to populate your story with an orc. If anything can capture my heart almost as fast as a wood elven lass, it is a fine Orsimer woman like Mazoga. Morghak sounds like some trouble, but my sniffer tells me she is likely worth it. If she has anywhere near the stones that Ancondil has, she�ll be a great addition to the guild. Speaking of stones. . .

"I hear your guild is hiring people, who've got the stones for it."
Do you have those too? Teresa wondered. She decided it would be best not to ask.�
Love this exchange for its humor and wisdom!

�It was difficult, given the Orisimer coloring, but now she recognized the look in them. It was that same empty stare that she had seen in the mirror for weeks after Marius' death.�
A masterfully crafted passage in so many ways! A reminder of Teresa�s recent trollage, and ever so evocative and clear in meaning.

I�m with Grits that training villagers/farmers in the rudiments of trollage is a brilliant task for the FG. I also like how you so rightly point out that teaching them to shoot bows would be a poor idea for exactly the reasons that Teresa details.

Well I'm caught up. Sorry it took so long but definatly my loss, as ever your world is immensely deep and well crafted. It also has a sense of change, both with things like the arena chapion having changed from the game and with repect to recovering from the Oblivion crisis. Teresa and Tadrose discussing it showed how it is a memory now and not nearly as fresh or full in their minds as the trolls.

Teresa's recovery, or the initial part of it at least, was very well put together. From her knowing what she needed to do but being unable to go out into the forest to being pushed and overcoming a troll was good, but then I doubt it was accidental that Barenziah was where she was, or that Taresa met the bear who symbolises healing when she did. It was a good touch, and the depth carried on to Tadrose having hidden the ingredients and Pappy showing a rather deeper side in realising what (with his plotting with Tadrose must have been obvious one way at least) was going on and playing cupid a bit.

Which all led very neatly to the two of them at the noodle stand which was an excellent scene and I suspect the begining of a new phase of the story. Where will that thread go from here, will it repeat soon or will they be awkward? And what will be happening in the background. I sense things are going to change. Morghak might well be part of that change, certainly she's already a fascinating character. Arena chapion but haunted, presumably by the people she's killed, or maybe just one?

For the most recent part you caught the feelings of being left in charge without really knowing what to do well on Teresa's behalf. She's done the job perfectly with 'Hello. Are you a criminal? Have some vodka while you wait.' And met an interesting new character. I'm fascinated to see how she fits in, particularly what will Ancondil make of her.

Do you have those too? Teresa wondered. -- or just a clever alchemist...

It was difficult, given the Orisimer coloring, but now she recognized the look in them... -- as has been said this line was masterful and in some ways marks the end of the worst of her survivor's guilt I suspect.

haute ecole rider: I never thought about it, but I suppose Morghak might indeed be a sister of the faint smile. It is nice how that trait has become such a Teresa trademark. I had fun with her panic over being left in charge. As you said, it is usually not such a big deal after all. Morghak is not sapphic, but she is not in the market for a new man to replace her old one yet. Nor would Ancondil be any interest to her, or likewise, to be certain!


Grits: That is indeed the same Morghak you are thinking of. It will be a while before we see more of her again though, and learn the result of her fight with the new Champion.

I doubt Teresa would feel the same sympathy for Jerric that she does for Morghak. So he'd probably just get water!


Acadian: I am glad the stones line worked. It is one of those things that was unplanned, and just rolled out of my keyboard. I looked up some orc words from LOTOR to use in the TF, and its helped me start to shape orc culture, as it is in Orsinium. So far it is taking shape nicely.


Olen: Welcome back! Bearenziah being there was no accident indeed. Just like it was no accident that Teresa was on the road when she came across the same wounded bear so long ago. I had Teresa's own healing in mind when I wrote that initial meeting with Barenziah, and her spirit guide Bear. What really did surprise me however is that while I never set out for Teresa to have an animal companion - like Morcant has Tsume - that is pretty much what Barenziah has turned out to be. Now all Teresa needs to do is build a log cabin out in the woods, and she can be Grizzly Teresa.

Looks like another vote of approval for Teresa's acting-guild commander style!


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: In our last episode, Teresa met Morghak, who came to the guild looking for work. She did not remember that the orc is the same gladiator believed to be Agronak's lover, or that she had been scheduled to fight a match with the woman who had killed him. Next Teresa has a second visitor during her time watching the guild hall.


Chapter 40.2 � The Hunter

Teresa watched as Morghak vanished through the front door of the guild hall. Well, her first trial of watching over the guild had gone well enough. The Orisimer left in a much better mood than Teresa had her own first time in the guild hall. Even after the wood elf had explained to her the entire process of the background checks, the necessary testing that Tadrose would do, and the percentage that the guild took from every contract, Morghak still seemed interested. Interested enough to vow to return later in the day to meet the vice-commander.

Feeling slightly triumphant, the wood elf made her way to the kitchen and rewarded herself with a glass of cold milk from the frost box. Yet after only her first sip, the sound of the front door opening came to her elven ears. After laying down the glass on one of the counters, she made her way back to the foyer.

There she found a woman clad in threadbare flax. Her blond hair spoke of Nordic parentage, but her brown eyes suggested otherwise, as did her small stature. Her features were attractive, and only showed the first signs of middle-age in the lines under her eyes. As she offered her hand, Teresa noted that the fine hair along her arms was a sandy brown. The wood elf smiled faintly. She was not the only woman who got her hair color from a bottle!

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"Greetings," the woman spoke in the soft, songbird-like voice of the Bretons. "My name is Ursanne Loche, I was hoping you might be able to help me with my husband."

"Yes," the forester said as she gently wrapped her fingers around those of the Breton. "I know Aleron. He took me to the Imperial City once on his boat. I'm Teresa by the way."

Teresa motioned to a row of benches along one of the foyer walls. Ursanne sat at one, while Teresa sat at the next, across a low table holding a potted flax plant. The Breton clutched her hands together in her lap, and stared down at her feet before looking back up at the wood elf.

Teresa's faint smile died as she stared into the older woman's eyes. The Breton looked more worried than a thief in a guard tower. Clearly this was not about the swordsmanship lessons Pappy had been giving her husband, or his payment through the use of his boat.

"What is wrong?"

"Well, Aleron took his boat out yesterday and he still hasn't come back. I'm worried about him." Ursanne licked her lips, then drew back a lock of her hair with one finger, even though it was not in the way of her eyes. "I'm afraid something has happened to him."

"Are you sure he didn't go to the Imperial City?" Teresa asked. "Or maybe down to Leyawiin for something?"

"No, he didn't do that," the Breton shook her head. "He's been acting strange lately, ever since the tournament really. He's been nervous, keeping things from me, especially about our money. Yesterday he took that sword with him, and said that he was going to square everything."

"To square everything?" Teresa asked. "Are you two in debt? Do you know with who?"

"We are now," Ursanne frowned. "I'm sure it has to do with his gambling. All summer, he piddled away our money. I had to take a job at A Fair Deal to help make ends meet. But there is only so much I can work with our boy to take care of as well. After that he swore to me that he had stopped. But when he didn't come home last night, I went to the Temple of Zenithar. All of our savings are gone. Every last reman. He withdrew it all the last day of that tournament. He took out a loan too, using our dory as the collateral."

He put all of the money on someone in the finals, Teresa thought. On someone who lost. The wood elf prayed that she was not the one. Yet she doubted that was the case. Who would bet on her? There had been much better - and more well-known - archers such as Daenlin and Dame Buffy in the competition after all.

She had seen enough people ruined by gambling in the Imperial City to know the story. That made her remember when Aleron had taken her and Chance to the Imperial City. While they had gone to Jensine's shop, he had went to the Arena. The harbormaster had known him by sight, in spite of Aleron being a Bravilian. Clearly Aleron had been going there for some time, even before his trouble at the tournament.

"I know he's been taking sword lessons from your guild commander," Ursanne said. "He said it was just so he could protect himself, with times being so bad outside the city as they are now. But I'm afraid he had this in mind all the time. I'm afraid he's going to use that sword, and�"

"Don't worry," Teresa laid one hand upon Ursanne's. "We'll find him, and we'll stop him before he does something foolish." Like turn to banditry, Teresa thought.

"Oh thank you milady Teresa," Ursanne practically gushed. "I'm afraid I cannot pay you anything. I don't know how I will even pay the rent now."

"Don't worry about the money," Teresa insisted. The guild took one of every five drakes they earned. But if she did something for free, then what could they say about it? Somehow she imagined that Pappy - and those higher up than him - would still not like it. A mercenary that worked for free wasn't good for their business after all.

As if she really cared.

"Tavian!" she called out as loud as her vocal chords could muster. She knew that she could not wait until the others returned. By then Aleron might have gotten himself so deep into trouble that there was no getting out him out again. She only prayed he was not there already.

"You're going to have to watch the front door while I go look for Aleron," Teresa told the youthful porter after he appeared. "Just tell anyone who comes that we'll be back this afternoon."

Ya think?

I love how you presented the beginning of one of the more controversial (yet realistic, in my estimation) quests. Knowing what happens next only makes this all the more bittersweet. I look forward to how Teresa handles the Hunter's Run.

Of course we know that Teresa did fine handling Morghak, but it was delightful to realize that Teresa gave herself passing marks on that account during her time in charge of her guild branch.

And how wonderful to see Ursanne! Now. . . I wonder who could have inspired the dear Breton to become a blonde?

We have known for a long time that Aleron was keen on getting sword training from the guild. How delightful that here, you finally tie it to a purpose and let us see that Aleron has likely been working on �setting things square� for a long time. Loved the references to the Tournament of Archers.

That Teresa quickly offers to help and cares not about payment for it does not surprise me. Although Acting Guild Commander Teresa did not likely make a choice as creative as Pappy would have, I don�t believe Pappy would have sent Ursanne away without help either. That Teresa suspects he will disapprove of her choice is absolutely in character for her.

I thoroughly enjoyed this quest and look forward to reading Teresa's impressions!

Even if Pappy doesn�t mind that Teresa promoted Tavian to acting commander, I doubt that he will let her negotiate contracts any time soon. Twenty percent of zero is, let�s see, carry the zero�

I like that Ursanne called Teresa �milady.� It takes me right to that moment in the game. Aleron�s swordsmanship lessons bring some interesting possibilities to this quest. I�m looking forward to it!

Ah, this quest. One of the better ones from in game - it certainly deserves a place in TotFS. The background you've given it adds a lot, right back to their taking the boat there was his lessons and his gambling. Now Teresa is going to rescue him. I suspect I know how this goes, but equally the details... I wonder how she'll find out where he is, and how many more enemies she will have in Bravil afterward. The fallout could be quite exciting.

As ever this piece is very well planned. I look forward to seeing what happens.

Whew! Teresa's been through quite an ordeal while I've been away!

First trolls, then her Shadow, and now dear ol' Aleron's gone missing. Quite a way to spend your days.

Watching Teresa evolve as she came to grips with herself after Marius's death drove home why I enjoy reading this tale so much. It's all about the characters. Each and every one is as distinct and unique as Tamriel is diverse. There is no greater concern looming over anyone's heads, it is just their lives, and how they react to the other lives, or loss of, around them.

After Teresa hugged Barenziah, I just wanted to jump through my monitor and give her the same. She found herself after finding her conscience in turmoil for so long over the unfortunate death of Marius. Survivor's Guilt mixed with PTSD, that chapter of Teresa's life was hard, and you communicated that to me clear as day.

And Teresa and Tadrose have finally discovered each other! A very touching and heartwarming moment.

Unfortunately, it looks like Mr. Gro-Zaroff has whisked poor Aleron away to his little island. I wonder how Teresa will fare?

haute ecole rider: I never liked how Bethesda worked this quest in the game. It is a good idea, but is filled with things that do not make sense. So expect the TF version to be very different.


Acadian: Now the fruit of Aleron's sword-training bears fruit indeed. As well as his gambling. I am sure Pappy would have done as suggested. Found some creative way that the Loche's could pay them. Either that or he would have turned her down outright. Then gone out and rescued Aleron on the sly.


Grits: You are right, I don't think Teresa will be negotiating any contracts in the future! Actually 'milady' and 'milord' are terms I hem and haw about using. Given the environment, it should only be used for an actual aristocrat. But I suspect that it might be used by commoners to butter other commoners up, at least when there is no real noble in earshot.


Olen: Expect a lot of changes from the game, including the aftermath! This chapter will affect more than just Teresa and the Loches.


Thomas Kaira: See, Derelas is not the only unhappy Bosmer in Cyrodiil. You hit the nail on the head about what I focus on: characterization. I would rather write about people than events. The latter can be fun as well, but feels academic without good characters being caught up in them.


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: In our last episode, Ursanne Loche came to the guild hall, looking for help to find her husband Aleron. She explained to Teresa that Aleron has a gambling problem, and has driven them into debt. He took his sword the previous night to 'set things square', and did not return. Next Teresa does some snooping to find out just what Aleron has gotten himself into.


Chapter 40.3 � The Hunter

"Can ya spare a coin beautiful lady? I's got nothin' ta eat."

The thin voice came to Teresa's ears the moment she stepped off the far end of the bridge that connected Bravil's two main islands together. South Street ran straight ahead, to the very end of the city. The Lonely Suitor Lodge rose up along it her right, and to her left Elm Street hugged the southern edge of the inner river. There was not a single elm along the road, so Teresa had no idea how it had gotten that name. The Archer's Paradox lay in that direction, the archer knew, for she passed by it every morning during her jog after all.

It was from the edge of Elm Street that the voice emanated. Sitting beside the bridge, with his back against the railing, was a thin, middle-aged Imperial clad in ragged flax and sackcloth. His long grey hair was held back from his face by a ponytail, his eyes were bloodshot, and his nose blossomed with the tiny red dots that came from too much love of alcohol.

"I don't have any coins," Teresa said as she looked down at him. "I can spare something to eat though."

Teresa sat beside him without making a sound. She reached into the Thieves Bag slung over Aldariel, at the opposite hip from her gorytos. She drew forth a loaf of warm bread and passed it to the Imperial. She followed it with a jar of olive oil, and a sealed bottle of milk. The beggar stared blankly at the food, as if surprised that someone would actually give him food rather than spare change.

"You're Cosmus," Teresa said producing a wheel of cheese next. "Aia told me that you know what goes on in the harbor better than anyone."

"Aia sent you did she?" A look of recognition lit in the Imperial's eyes. "Was it she told you to bring this spread?"

"And who warned me not give you any money," Teresa said bluntly. Because you will just spend it all on drink, the forester thought.

The beggar took a bite of the bread, and Teresa saw that his hand shook when he reached for the milk. After taking a swallow, he nearly spat it out.

"Sure you ain't got no wine in there Teresa?" the older man grimaced. "Or at least beer? How people can drink this cow piss is beyond me."

"You should be thankful to drink something that's good for you for a change," Teresa insisted. "That comes from Old Verona, in Silverbridge. She's the finest cow in all Bravil County. Besides, from the smell of it, you've already had plenty to drink today already."

"Aye, got me a good stake yesterday, from a rich fella coming out 'o the Suitor," Cosmus patted his stomach. "Drank the last of it this morn. You're just like she said though, fiery as that hair."

"So Aia told you about me then?" It had not escaped Teresa's attention that he had called her by name, without an introduction.

"Everyone in Bravil knows Teresa of the Faint Smile," the beggar said around a mouthful of soft bread. "'Specially with that Valenwood rig you wear, and the way you killed them trolls with your bare hands. Bet your boss couldn't ha' even done that."

"I was not alone," Teresa said softly. The face of Marius Helvius rose in her memory, dead eyes staring into her soul. Would he approve of what she was doing now? She could only hope so.

"So what is it ye be wantin' ta know 'bout tha' harbor?" Cosmus asked. He gave Teresa an appraising stare. Clearly he knew that this was no social call.

The wood elf remembered what Aia had told her about him. "Smarter than he looks, Cosmus is," the old woman had said. "Sees he does, and puts things together in his mind. Could'a been an investigator in the watch. But ruined it all he did, 'cause of the wine, and cheatin' at cards. Stealin' he does too. Even when needin' them he isn't, taking things he is. Canna' help himself, is what he says."

"Did you see Aleron Loche yesterday?" Teresa asked.

"Aye, that I did," Cosmus said. "'Bout a few hours after noon, he went in the Suitor with a sword at his hip. Thought he was going to try to kill Kurdan I did! But he come out a few minutes later, with all his parts still attached. His face was all pale though, and his hands shakin'. Went straight to his boat and took it out. Ain't seen 'em since, but I spent most of the day after that drinkin' inside the Suitor. So if he come back, I never would'a seen it."

"What did you mean about Kurdan? Did Aleron owe him money?" Teresa knew from Gaius Prentus that Kurdan gro-Dragol was the crimelord that ran the South Island. The guardsman's words came to her mind: "�gambling, loan-sharking, extortion, robbery� Anything violent that happens, you can bet his fingers are behind it, and his gold is in the Captain's pocket."

"Aye," Cosmus nodded. "Aleron's been borrowing money from Kurdan for months, and losing it all on card games in the Suitor, or the Arena. Last time he went in there was during the tournament. I hear Kurdan cut him off after that. Won't let him gamble no more in Bravil. Wants his money back I'm sure, before he floats him any more."

So Aleron is in deep to a gangster, Teresa thought. She had hoped he was just going to make a ridiculous attempt at piracy with his fishing boat. But this just looked worse and worse. A usurer like Kurdan could not afford to let his other customers know that they could get away with defaulting. He would have to make an example out of the Breton fisherman.

Clearly he had had not done that yet however. But Teresa knew it was only a matter of time. Where had Aleron gone, after talking to Kurdan? Had he done something for the crimelord to pay off his debt? Even with no money, Aleron was still a skilled sailor, and possessed his own boat. Could he be smuggling something for Kurdan, like skooma?

Gaius Prentus had also said that Kurdan was not in the skooma trade. But maybe the orc was planning on changing that? Aleron would be the perfect tool for him to use as a mule. Someone he knew could not afford to talk, and was completely expendable.

"Thank you Cosmus." Teresa rose to her feet, and stared across South Street to the Lonely Suitor Lodge. "When all this is over, I'll take you out to eat for a proper meal. But no wine!"

I knew you were going to put your own twist on this quest. I agree that there is much that makes no sense here. So I look forward to seeing how you write this story.

So Teresa has done her own intelligence-gathering before going to Cosmus? Wise girl! I remember from Buffy that he has little self control when it comes to the booze, and he's mighty proud of it, too.

Bread, olive oil, milk and cheese? Yum! Plain and very simple, but very filling nonetheless. And I loved the nod to the source of the white stuff: Would she be black and white and shaped like a coatrack? I met plenty of Old V's in vet school, and even developed friendships with one or two.

One can wonder. I enjoyed Teresa's pondering over what Mr. Orsimer Mobster might have in mind.

I sense a visit to Kingpin gro-Zaroff is looming.

Oh, by the way... I always visualize this bread is what everyone is eating in your tale. It's a great bread for olive oil dipping.

I'm scared of Kurdan already!

"Sure you ain't got no wine in there Teresa?" the older man grimaced. "Or at least beer? How people can drink this cow piss is beyond me."
That is our dear Cosmus! And consulting him about Aleron was brilliant.

�It had not escaped Teresa's attention that he had called her by name, without an introduction.�
Nor mine. In fact I paused when Cosmus called Teresa by name without introduction to ponder it, wondering whether it was on oversight by the authoress, then deciding you probably did it intentionally for the reasons that you revealed to me here. I'm quite proud of myself for getting it right!

I am so enjoying the TF version of this fun quest. I recall the humorous and creative touches Rider applied as Julian dealt with Kurdan to smooth out the quest�s details and rough edges. I also remember incorporating some BF changes into it to help some parts make a little more sense for Buffy. Already I can see your impeccable reasoning and logic at work as you help Teresa weave her own twists and solution.

"Can ya spare a coin beautiful lady? I's got nothin' ta eat."
Cosmus and Ursanne must have gone to the same school of kissing up.

"That comes from Old Verona, in Silverbridge. She's the finest cow in all Bravil County.
Yay, cows. With all of the olive oil and goats� milk at the FG, I couldn�t remember if there were cows in Teresa�s Cyrodiil.

So now we have Aleron in the boat with a sword, at least that�s where he was yesterday. And Teresa is on his trail. This quest is already very interesting.

And finally caught up after finding this excellent story 2 weeks ago.

Ahh... now I recognize Aleron's name. I don't spend much time in the Nibenay basin area in my two active games. Though I recognize the quest now, and Kurdan. Though the anticipation for this part comes more from how you've developed the story thus far.

Teresa's really not going to be popular with the 'City Guard' at the end of this. I'm still certain the arrow was aimed at her an not the troll in the first place.

haute ecole rider: Cosmus was fun to write here, as he is quite the different fish from Aia. Acadian's portrayal of him was first and foremost in my mind when I wrote him. A long time ago the two of us threw around ideas about the past histories of both beggars, in order to make them unique.


Thomas Kaira: Teresa may not be a big game hunter, but she is going to meet Zaroff next in any case. Ciabatta is a good choice. But it seems really modern. I was thinking of Cyrodiil having breads more like these.


Acadian: I just wished I could have worked in a line as brilliant as your: "Water? Don't you know what fish do in that!" Cosmus gave me a perfect opportunity to show Teresa's growing fame in Bravil. Thanks to all the notable things she has done lately, like the skooma-smugglers, calling out the city guard, fighting the trolls, and of course the tourney, her name is definitely well-known in Bravil. Not to mention her dyed hair.


Grits: I actually got the beautiful lady line from the game. As far as I can recall, it is one of the things beggars will say to a female character. And yes, they definitely went to the same school of kissing up! Unlike the game (which only has beef), there are indeed cows in the TF. I figure Bruma being a major cattle area, like Montana and Wyoming IRL.


liliandra nadiar: Hi lil! Welcome to the TF. You are certainly not the only one who suspects that guard arrow may have not been an accident. Teresa certainly has not made many friends there! The funny thing is that Teresa spent most of her life hating and fearing the law, because of being on the other side of it. Now she is hated by the law for being honest!


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: Our last episode found Teresa looking of Cosmus the Cheat for information. The beggar told her that Aleron was deeply in debt to the local crimelord: Kurdan gro-Dragol. The last time he saw Aleron, it was after meeting with Kurdan, and the Breton took out his boat immediately afterward. Deducing that Aleron is performing some sort of mission for Kurdan, Teresa goes to visit the orc mobster.

Something to listen to while reading Kurdan's part


Chapter 40.4 � The Hunter

Teresa strung her bow before walking across the street to the Lonely Suitor Lodge. Pausing on the doorstep, she drank a combination shield and magicka restoration potion. "When in doubt, drink the stout," Pappy always said about potions. She only hoped that she would not need it, nor the Burning Hand spell whose symbol she next fixed into her mind.

More than a few stares turned her way as the wood elf stepped through the front door. It was little different than when she had been on the street however. Wearing a full panoply of armor always attracted attention, let alone Aldariel, with its unusual miran-talurn leaves. In other places her Fighters Guild medallion doubtlessly put others at ease. Here, she imagined it had the opposite effect.

The common room of the inn took up most of the ground floor. To the left a stair ran up to the second floor. The bar ran out from beside it to the center of the room, then curled back upon itself in a 'U' shape. Surrounding it was a sea of tables and chairs of stained and chipped wood. Even at mid-morning, there were plenty of seedy-looking individuals hunched over clay cups of cheap wine and tankards of cheaper ale. The smell of it, and their unwashed bodies, made Teresa's nose wrinkle in disgust.

She noted a large table in one corner where half a dozen men were playing cards. They held some in their hands, while others were laid out on the table before them. She imagined that was Elsweyr hold 'em. She had seen Pappy and the others playing it often enough. Four men sat at another table playing a different card game. She guessed it might be whist, given the way the play moved around the table.

Teresa found Kurdan sitting in the back of the room. There was no mistaking him. How many other orcs wore red brocade? Ancondil was the only one Teresa could think of, and he had far too much self-respect to ever be caught dead in a dreckhole like the Lonely Suitor Lodge. The crimelord sat with his back to the wall. A Daedric battle axe was propped up next to him, and a plate of shrimp scampi was set out before him, along with a silver goblet.

To one side of him stood a golden Khajiit wearing an elvish saber. He wore the fur and leather armor that seemed to be preferred by bandits. An unstrung bow was slung over his back, along with a quiver of arrows. To his other side sat an Altmer dressed in soft blue silk. His long blond hair was swept back from his face like the wings of an eagle, creating a pronounced widow's peak atop his forehead. Like most of his race, his age was indeterminate, but his amber eyes were as cold as Skyrim ice. Could he be a mage?

Teresa's eyes flicked to the table next to the three. Two more men sat there, Nibeneans from their olive skin and black hair. Both were clad in mail, and had hand axes laid out on the table before them. They were clearly more bodyguards. Kurdan certainly took his safety seriously. That made Teresa wonder how many people must want him dead?

The two Nibeneans rose as Teresa approached, and stepped between her and Kurdan. Their axes were now in their hands, and their eyes leveled upon the wood elf. All conversations in the common room fell silent as the forester stared them down. Then the Altmer rose from Kurdan's table, and stepped forward.

"Teresa of the Faint Smile," he said in an soft, easy-going voice. "Once again you grace the Lonely Suitor Lodge with your presence."

Teresa frowned. Obviously he remembered her from her one and only previous visit, the night after Marius had died. She did not remember the elf. But much of that night that had blessedly vanished in a haze of cheap shein.

"I am here to see Kurdan," she said.

"And now you have twig." Kurdan's voice was exactly as Teresa imagined it would be: a low boom that was a cross between the rumble of thunder and the grating of stone against stone. "Now begone with you, before I decide to have you for breakfast."

Teresa's heart raced. All of her life she had lived in the shadow of monsters such as Kurdan. Whether it was on the backstreets of the Market District, or the winding paths of the Chamber Pot, there had always been thugs like him. In the past she had always scampered away before such ominous giants could take notice of her. But no longer.

"Aleron Loche," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm here for him."

"I am afraid you have been misinformed," the Altmer said. "There is no one here by that name. You had best look elsewhere for this individual."

"I know he's not here," Teresa did not look at the high elf, but rather at Kurdan. "But I know he was yesterday. Just like I know he owes you money. Where did you send him?"

The floorboards creaked as the Orisimer rose to his feet. Teresa stared up at him, far up. He was easily the tallest orc she had ever seen, and that was saying quite a bit. He grinned at her, like a wolf sizing up an elk. Intertwining his fingers, he stretched out both of his hands. His knuckles popped loudly in the silence. Then the orc leapt forward, and before Teresa knew it, he was upon her.

His hand wrapped around her throat, and she felt herself being pushed back against the bar. Her shield enchantment flashed under the giant's paw, but it could not resist the force of his thick fingers. They pressed tightly into her neck, no matter how much Teresa tensed her muscles against them. His face pressed in close to her own, and the forester could smell the garlic on his breath.

"Why shouldn't I just snap your scrawny neck right now tree-hugger?"

Teresa could force no words from her throat. She merely tapped her fingers between his legs. The orc stared down at her hand, which now glowed with red light and trailed wisps of smoke.

"Ha!" Kurdan let go of her with a laugh, and stepped away. "Your guild is hiring a better class of scum these days! Morandil, tell her whatever she wants to know."

"But Kurdan-" The high elf stared at the orc in surprise.

"Just do it!" The orc sat once more and picked up his fork. "Handle the arrangements, like you always do. Or I'll find someone else who can. Now if any other fetcher interrupts my breakfast, there'll be Oblivion to pay for it!"

The high elf led Teresa away, to a storeroom behind the common area. The large room was packed with casks of ale, wine, and other drinks, along with sacks of flour and barrels of other foodstuffs. Teresa wondered if they always conducted their secret meetings in a pantry? She had to admit that it was private though.

"Aleron does indeed owe us a significant amount of tender," Morandil said. There was no sign of his previous resistance to speak to her in his voice. Rather he sounded so at ease that an eavesdropper might think they were old friends. "An offer was extended to him, by which he might annul his deficit. A most gracious offer in fact. Aleron accepted this charge the day previous, yet we remain in wait of his return."

Standing as close as he now was, Teresa could feel the strength of the magicka within the high elf's clothing. Likewise in the mithril dagger that hung at his hip, and the opal ring upon one of his fingers. She could not tell exactly what the enchantments upon each were. But she knew that they were strong. Clearly, Morandil was not someone to take lightly.

"How much does he owe you?" Teresa asked. She did not like the high elf's manner one bit. He was too formal and polished to be a simple thug. Not even a thug like Kurdan's right hand. Then there was his magical clothing. Either he was rich, or he had done the enchanting himself. Given his race's fame for wizardry, she imagined it was the latter.

"Financial records are confidential," the Altmer said smoothly. "For the protection of our clients of course."

While his words were as precise as any of Ancondil's, Teresa now thought she detected a trace of an accent in them. Not an elvish accent, but rather one she knew well enough, from the Chamber Pot. In spite of how he now dressed himself, and what airs he put on, Morandil was a gutter-spawn, just like herself!

"So what is he doing for you?" Teresa began to grow impatient, and wondered if she was being given the run around? Did she really think that a crimelord was going to be honest about his dirty dealings after all?

"He was sent to Castle Grief," Morandil's direct answer surprised her. "There he is to procure an item of rare value. It is a meteoric axe named Inga, once owned by Audmund the Bald."

"Inga?" Teresa blinked. Was he just making this all up as he went?

"Apparently an ex-wife." The Altmer's smile was something Teresa would expect to see on a slaughterfish. "Inga is an object of singular value. The axe of course, not the wife. It was lost when the colony vanished a century ago. If Aleron can procure Inga, then his debt shall be discharged."

"And that place hasn't been picked clean in the last hundred years?" Teresa eyed the high elf suspiciously.

"It has been," Morandil again surprised her by agreeing so quickly. "Yet nothing of value - nor the former inhabitants - were ever discovered. Castle Grief's treasures lay well hidden. The individual daring and cunning enough to unravel the castle's secrets will come away quite wealthy."

"Where is this castle?" Teresa asked. She could not recall its name on any map of the county that she had seen.

"It is located upon an island in the center of Niben Bay," the Altmer explained. "It is a barren piece of rock, whose only notable feature is a safe anchorage for large vessels. Ask any of the sailors, they will know it."

Teresa nodded. She was going to do exactly that. Not to mention ask about this Audmund the Bald and his Inga.

"Now I believe I have answered all of your questions," the high elf continued. "If I might, I have a query of my own."

Teresa nodded warily. Kurdan made sense to her. He was a brute. But this Altmer was a mystery.

"What is your interest in Aleron Loche?" he asked. "He is but a simple fisherman with a fondness for losing money that he does not possess. How is it that the Fighters Guild seeks him out?"

"I know him," Teresa said. She was not about to mention Ursanne, or her son. If Morandil already knew about them, there was little she could do. But if not, she was not going to give the Altmer any more leverage against Aleron than he already had. "He was supposed to take me across the Niben today. But he never showed up."

"So you took it upon yourself to locate the delinquent sailor?" the Altmer said. "Very noble of you. He must be a friend of yours then, for you to inconvenience yourself so."

"Like I said," Teresa replied, "I know him."

"Do I judge your intent well enough, to venture that you would hazard the castle for Aleron's sake?" Morandil asked. He must have seen the question rising in Teresa's eyes, and continued before she could reply. "Given your performance in the common room, it seems like no great leap."

"You seem very interested in what I am going to do," Teresa said plainly.

"Of course I am," Morandil said. "I shall be honest with you. If Aleron does not return with either the axe or the money he owes, Kurdan will be forced to make an example of him. You know what that means. However, the worth of the axe far exceeds his debt. As this was my inspiration, I shall receive a finder's fee of no inconsequential amount upon its deliverance. So as you see, I have a financial incentive to see Aleron return in success. You clearly have a sentimental incentive to do the same, as I know that fisherman's wife cannot pay you."

Teresa tried to hide it, but her breath still caught in her throat at the mention of Ursanne. Of course he knew about her! He had probably threatened her safety to ensure Aleron's compliance with his scheme. The forester stared at the taller elf with barely contained revulsion. He was a Daedra laying in the grass, profiting from the misfortune of others.

"If your axe is there, you'll have it," Teresa murmured sourly. There was little she could do. She had to go after Aleron. She turned to the door, but Morandil's voice stopped her after only a step.

"At this time of day, you will be hard pressed to find a fisherman still in port to ferry you out to the castle," he said. "They are already out on the bay. The ferries are all gone as well, and you know the galleon in port is not going to lend you one of its boats. You will have to wait until this afternoon, when the fishermen all return with their catches."

Teresa turned to face the Altmer. "Why do I hear a 'but' coming?"

The Altmer smiled. "But I know someone who might be of assistance," he said. "For a modest finder's fee of course."

Teresa blinked. He was demanding a bribe so that she could help Aleron get his cursed axe? How greedy was the fetcher, and how much was that blasted thing worth? Still, what choice did she have?

"Who is it?" Teresa asked, and reached into the coin purse that hung from her hip.

Clancy Brown! I always think of Kurgan every time I play this quest and talk to Kurdan. Several times I caught myself typing 'Kurgan' instead of 'Kurdan' when I was writing that chapter!

A nit: Looks like the atmosphere in the tavern was so intimidating that apostrophe didn't want to leave its shelter!

Of course, if Kurgan Kurdan is such a hotshot crime boss, he wouldn't be dealing with noobs and strangers off the street like he does in the game.

So it's an axe named after Inga? Would this be Inga (aka Gertrude) that I know so well? An an ex-wife to boot? Wonder if the axe was involved in the separation.

Wearing a full panoply of armor always attracted attention, let alone Aldariel, with its unusual miran-talurn leaves.

I like this so much. It�s a good reminder of how things are (not so many folks strolling around in full daedric armor), and it shows how far Teresa has come up in the world.

In the past she had always scampered away before such ominous giants could take notice of her. But no longer.

Woo hoo! Go Teresa.

Teresa could force no words from her throat. She merely tapped her fingers between his legs. The orc stared down at her hand, which now glowed with red light and trailed wisps of smoke.

No matter how the rest of this chapter goes, I will always remember the smoking crotch tap.

Morandil is an interesting character. I enjoy smiling villains. It makes great sense that a crime lord would surround himself with brains as well as muscle. I love it!!

That Altmer is mighty slick, and mighty crooked! Perhaps Teresa will be required to "remind" him of where he came from at some point?

While his words were as precise as any of Ancondil's, Teresa now thought she detected a trace of an accent in them. Not an elvish accent, but rather one she knew well enough, from the Chamber Pot. In spite of how he now dressed himself, and what airs he put on, Morandil was a gutter-spawn, just like herself!

Now THAT's a spot of character there!

This Altmer seems to be everything Teresa is not. The Yang of Teresa's Yin, to be horribly cliche. Instead of embracing his past, he ran from it. His fear of poverty molded him into the cold, cruel robber and extortionist he now is. It's quite obvious he is not the kind of guy to do something if there isn't a Septim involved, nor would he ever pass the opportunity to snatch it from someone else. He lives eloquently and lavishly, and no doubt cringes away from poverty. Why else would he be working for Kurdan, the richest man in town save the Count?

Or am I over-analyzing things again?

Wow, Teresa really stepped into the Suitor loaded for bear! Oh. . . wait, scratch that. If Teresa were expecting bear, she would have simply brought a towel to dry off the wet licks and kisses.

"Now begone with you, before I decide to have you for breakfast."
Kurdan certainly likes to snack on wood elves. Or try to.

You really popped me out of my chair when Kurdan suddenly grabbed Teresa�s throat!

I�m with Grits on the soon to be patented �Teresa Smokin� Crotch Tap�.

�The Altmer's smile was something Teresa would expect to see on a slaughterfish. "Inga is an object of singular value. The axe of course, not the wife.�
Loved your characterizations and grim humor here. You really brought this Altmeri piece of. . . work to life. What a smooth, oily and polished creature he is. In some ways he reminds me a touch of Ungarion � except that Ungarion is actually likable.

I noticed Teresa�s destination is an old castle, not a fort. This should be interesting.

It�s a pleasure to see you and Teresa working through the fair number of �why is that?� questions that this quests raises � and doing a wonderful job of juggling and tweaking things around into sound logic.

Teresa found Kurdan sitting in the back of the room. There was no mistaking him. How many other orcs wore red brocade?
She did? Lucky girl, I had to search all over then employ a detect life spell to find him in his chameleon armor.

"Teresa of the Faint Smile," he said in an soft, easy-going voice. "Once again you grace the Lonely Suitor Lodge with your presence."
Hmm.. Tamrielian lawyer?
"Financial records are confidential," the Altmer said smoothly. "For the protection of our clients of course.
Yep. He's a lawyer, Kurdan's slimier then I thought.

Few changes from the game's version, but it lends a more 'credible' feel to the 'job' and not something that was all but waving a neon sign of Admiral Akbar yelling "It's a trap!"

Rosa my girl - you are a very, very good writer.

The essence of a good writer is to 'do great things with little expenditure' and you have succeeded beyond all expectations.

You have taken a 'generic' thug and made him even more thuggish than the 'beefcake blackguard' orc - then you have made him much more dangerous than the original version, because he has surrounded himself with not only bodyguards, but a 'mouthpiece' as well. Smart. As Al Capone remarked 'a good mouthpiece is worth all the dough he wants'.

And by the way - may I congratulate Teresa on her excellent situational awareness? Her estimation of Kurdan's bodyguards and their capabilities are very good, almost exactly what I would have done in the same place. Only I'd have had Cosmus go in first, take a good look before he was kicked out, and then sat down to think up a plan first - but then, that's old, super cautious 'Mr Justin Case' me...

It must be said again. Excellent writing!!!

Hmmm detective work. Depending on how much you've changed things I think she might be in for a surprise though. Talking to Cosmus was a nice touch, almost immediatly you had a character who was far richer than a begger might have been. I suspect there might be quite a bit of background to him, and that he might appear again. That she went straight to the beggers for information works - it draws the TF world back towards the game one with the thieve's guild line and serves as a reminder of Teresa's origins.

Then Kurdan, again you've taken the cardboard generic criminal from the game and fleshed him into so much more. He's a bit different than I imagined, I always saw him a smaller fry working for someone higher up but I like your version and I imagine it will stick now. The bodyguards make sense, I doubt he's well liked but it's Morandil who's the jewel in this piece. I agree with the similarities with other altmer in this piece (Ungarion to an extent) but their smoothness seems slimey on him somehow, he makes a good speaker though, and likes to line his pockets. I suspect we'll see him again.

I'm fascinated to see how the boatman she's directed to turns out, and how this quest goes.

haute ecole rider: It probably was that Inga! Although Kurdan does not look (or act!) anything like Benson. When I was trying to come up with a name for the axe, I thought to myself, why not name it after a battle-axe?


Grits: The armor in the street is actually a carryover from my pen and paper RPG days. It would look kind of strange to see people walking around the street in full armor. I mean, who would bother putting all that gear on, unless it they are going to kill someone? That is the kind of thing that gets the attention of the police real quick.

The smoking crotch tap was inspired by so many hidden knife to the groin scenes in films. I just put a Teresa twist on it, using her Burning Hand instead.


Thomas Kaira: I would say you are spot on concerning Morandil. He is indeed the opposite of Teresa in so many ways, in spite of having similar beginnings.


Acadian: I loved the remark about being loaded for bear. It is so true! Morandil was fun to write. I wanted him to come across as an interesting character. I am glad it is working.


liliandra nadiar: A lawyer indeed! Morandil never has to worry about being attacked by slaughterfish when he goes swimming. They won't bite him out of professional courtesy. Your remark about Ackbar had me laughing. That is so the case in the game!


D.Foxy: I wanted to really make Kurdan seem menacing. He is a crimeboss, and from what I know of RL organized criminals from documentaries, they are not really smarter than anyone else, just more ruthless and brutal. The bunch here in Detroit that introduced crack to the city (and whom the movie New Jack City was based on) actually videotaped themselves with their crack, and counting out the cash they were making from selling it.


Olen: Acadian and I (really mostly Acadian) worked on the backgrounds for Cosmus and Aia back when we collaborated on the Tournament of Archers. I was glad to finally get the chance to use Cosmus in the TF, especially given the wonderful portrayal that Acadian gave him. I am glad to see another vote for Morandil. He is a character I would like to do more with in the future.


Previously on Teresa of the Faint Smile: In our last episode Teresa had a showdown with Kurdan, and impressed him enough to make him cooperate. His lieutenant Morandil told Teresa that Aleron does indeed owe them money, and that he was sent to Castle Grief to retrieve an enchanted axe named Inga. He also suggested a fisherman who could ferry Teresa to the island the castle is situated on, as all the regular fishermen were already out on the bay. Next, Teresa meets the boatman.


Chapter 40.5 � The Hunter

Teresa climbed the steps to the upper dwelling of a two-story building. Like all the other homes along the narrow street, its wooden boards were old, worn, and unpainted. Teresa imagined that it might have been among the first buildings to go up during Bravil's boomtown phase, fifty years ago. She suspected that it had changed little since then, except to get older, and more worn, with every year.

Stepping across the narrow porch, she stared at the door in front of her. Was she really going to do this? Was she going to trust the word of a gangster that this fisherman was reliable? For all she knew, he was an assassin paid to finish off any who asked too many questions about Kurdan's dealings.

If he was, he kept it a good secret. Not even Aia knew anything untoward about him, and the beggar seemed to know everyone in the city. "Was married, that Dakarai was," the old woman had told Teresa. "Until that wife of his up and left him, she did. Taking their two kids with her she was too. For not another man it was neither, but 'nother woman! Lost in his cups he's been ever since. Most of the time never even goes on the bay. Money he owes to that Kurdan too they say. Borrow he does just to pay the rent."

Teresa's knuckles rapped against the door, and she felt it rattle underneath her hand. She imagined that it would not take much to simply knock it down. When there was no answer she knocked more forcefully, and the entire door nearly shook off its hinges. When it finally did swing open, she realized that no burglar would bother with breaking in. For there was nothing within of any value, except furniture one step away from being firewood, and empty jugs of cheap wine.

Standing in the doorway was a Redguard. He was dressed in dirty, threadbare flax. A line of dried vomit decorated one side of his tunic, and his trousers were stained with what she could only hope was dirt. His tightly curled hair rose from his head in a dried, frizzy mess, and he sported the bristles of a beard several days old. His cheeks were sunken, and the rest of his frame little better. He seemed hollow, like the shell of man whose insides had been beaten out.

"What do you want elf," the Redguard spat. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

Teresa's eyes glanced past him, to the low table in the center of the room. A braid-wrapped jug sat there, along with a chipped redware cup. Her eyes went back to the Redguard. "Dakarai?" she asked. When he nodded, she continued. "Morandil sent me. I need your boat."

"Come back tomorrow," he murmured. "I don't feel like it today."

The door swung shut in Teresa's face. Without thinking, she swept her hand forward, and thrust it back at the Redguard. He stumbled back into the room, and shook his head in surprise. Teresa took advantage of the moment to stride within. Those strength enchantments really did work, she thought as she glanced down at her gauntlets, and the thumb ring one concealed on her right hand.

"Now," Teresa growled. She threw a small bag of coins on the table, beside the jug of what she could now smell was shein. She knew exactly where the money would go. But she no longer had time to waste. There was no telling what sort of trouble Aleron might have gotten himself into on the island. "That's for your trouble. Now get what you need, and move."

He shot her a glare though his bloodshot eyes. But the Redguard offered no further resistance. Instead he hefted the pouch of coins in his hand, then tucked it away in a trouser pocket. Teresa was thankful for the fresh air when he led her outside a moment later, and followed the fisherman down to the docks. She saw Cosmus along the way, and gave the beggar a welcome nod.

The Redguard said nothing as they clambered aboard his dory and cast off. He rowed them out into the bay, and then shipped the oars. He seemed surprised when Teresa moved to help him with the uneven, four-cornered sail. She was not sure if it was because she knew what she was doing, or simply that she made an effort to assist him.

"So where are we going to?" Dakarai finally asked. The Redguard changed places with Teresa, and sat down in the stern of the ship, where he could man the tiller.

"Castle Grief," Teresa answered. "As soon as you can get us there."

The Redguard's eyes flashed at the mention of the castle. "You sure you want to be doin' that?" he said. "Nothing good ever comes to them that go there."

"I have to go," Teresa said. "A friend of mine is there."

"I'd give up on him if I were you, and turn around." The Redguard spat in the water to one side for emphasis.

"Why?" Teresa asked. "What is wrong with the castle?"

"Bad luck it is." The Redguard looked away from her gaze. "Them that go there, don't come back. Haunted some say it is, by those folk that vanished there a hundred year ago."

"I've heard the tale," Teresa said. Aia had given her the entire story of the castle. "Built it was for the fleet back in the Second Age," the old woman had said around a mouthful of chicken dumplings. "But abandoned it they did after Tiber Septim's reign. Not needin' it no more then, what with the peace and all. That Audmund the Bald, he took over a hundred good folk out there to settle it back in the day of Empress Morihatha. But vanished they all did, just a week later, with no sign of where they went. Still at the docks were their boats, out drying was their laundry, and on the tables was the food. What happened to them, to this day no one knows. Ever since then, Castle Grief people have named it."

The old Imperial had even confirmed the story of Audmund, his axe, and his former wife Inga. So at least Morandil had not been lying, Teresa mused. She watched Bravil fade into the distance, and wondered if the unnamed doom that had befallen the colonists might have also taken Aleron? Why else would he be gone for so long? Unless the castle was so large that it took days to search?

"Don't listen to me then," Dakarai grumbled. "It's to your own grave yer sailin' to, not mine."

The rest of the trip passed in silence. The time seemed to drag as Teresa continually looked over her shoulder, waiting for the castle to rise over the horizon. The more time she had to think about it, the more and more she did not like any of it. Why would a crimelord send Aleron of all people after an enchanted axe that no one else had been able to find in a century? How could Aleron be expected to do better? He was just a fisherman, not a treasure hunter.

The empty horizon gave Teresa no answers however. She knew that only Castle Grief held those. If Aleron was dead. If he was alive and trapped. If he had never been there at all, and Morandil had lied about everything. Only it could say.

It was none too soon when the grey stones of the fortress rose above the waves on the horizon. First it was only the upper towers, then as they came nearer, the rest of the castle. Then finally the rocky spit of land upon which the fortress sat came into view. There was not much to the island. As Morandil had said, it was just a barren patch of rock in the expanse of Niben Bay. Yet Teresa instantly saw why the Empire had put a castle there. The northern end of the island was shaped like a pair of crescents reaching out into the bay, sheltering a wide cove between them.

When they neared the lagoon, Dakarai took down the sail and broke out the oars once more. As he pulled them into the inlet, Teresa noted lines of stone pilings running from the shore out into the water. There were enough to support at least a dozen long quays, that might have once hosted two or perhaps even three galleons to a side. The wooden boards that had filled the space between the pilings were long gone however. Teresa imagined that they must have rotted away in the centuries since the castle had been first abandoned.

The dark form of a dory rose up from the pebbles of the beach that lined the cove. "That's Aleron's boat!" Teresa cried out. She pointed out the craft to Dakarai, and the Redguard brought his own dory past the ancient docks and onto the strand beside it.

Teresa leapt from the boat the moment it touched shore. The beach under her feet was comprised of many small, smoothly-worn stones, and shifted uncomfortably under her feet. Still, she made her way over it as silently as ever, and stepped to the side of Aleron's dory. She found nothing within however. No blood, no signs of a struggle, and no body of Aleron Loche.

Teresa looked up from the dory, and cast her gaze farther south. Just a dozen paces from the water's edge rose the stone blocks of the castle. Its main gateway yawned wide, and there was no sign of the doors that must have once shut it off. The walls were still intact however, and stretched off to either side as far as the eastern and western edges of the island. There they turned south, and out of sight. Teresa imagined that they might hug the water's edge around the rest of the island.

She glanced back, and found that Dakarai was still in his dory. "I'll not set one foot on this cursed ground," the Redguard murmured. "If you're smart, you won't either. Get in the boat, and I'll take you back. You can tell them you looked all day, and found naught. I'll not gainsay a word of it."

Teresa shook her head. What had the fisherman so spooked? Did he know something that he was not saying? If so, she would find out soon enough. "Just wait here," she finally said. "It might take me a few hours to search this place, but I'll be back."

He was dressed in dirty, threadbare flax. A line of dried vomit decorated one side of his tunic, and his trousers were stained with what she could only hope was dirt.

Now here is a drunk who might make a mess in his bed! Ugh. When he tucked Teresa�s coin pouch away in his pocket, I knew that was all he had. From the look of him, I don�t think Dakarai will live long enough to get thrown out on the street.



But vanished they all did, just a week later, with no sign of where they went. Still at the docks were their boats, out drying was their laundry, and on the tables was the food. What happened to them, to this day no one knows.

That is so creepy! Is Dakarai�s dory called the Hunter-Gratzner? Yikes! I�m on the edge of my seat already, and Teresa is still standing on the beach in the sun.

As always I love the scale of things in the TF. I�m glad Aleron�s boat is still there. I�m not feeling too confident in Dakarai�s waiting around.

And so off we go to Castle Dracula Frankenstein err... Grief! Yeah, that's the spooky, chilly, this-really-isn't-gonna-end-well place!

If she is about to become a member of the most dangerous game... well, let's say it's not exactly Teresa I'm worried about here. No random wealthy hunting noble trying to get into Hircine's good books is going to take down this strong, silent gal!

You are building things up quite well here, Rosa. Things are similar enough to keep us rooted in the source material, yet just different enough to keep us guessing. The tension is also being built at a nice and steady pace. We aren't quite in the edge of our seats yet, but we are one slammed gate or shady character away from being there... *glances at Dakarai* hmm, maybe even closer than I thought.

On the edge of my seat, I am. Ye be weavin� a fine tale here.

You really are doing a great job setting things here. Dakarai is one memorable piece of work! Quite the dirty mystery. We don�t know whether he can be trusted or not. So nice to see Teresa basking in some self-confidence in her dealings with him after having much of shattered by trolls.

Love your descriptions so far of the island, castle and even its mysterious history.


Okay, can�t resist. For some reason, I�m thinking pirates. Maybe we can blame Rider�s post on �Talk Like a Pirate Day�.
�Say, elf, where�s your buccaneers?�
�How can you miss �em? They�re on me buccanhead!�

Ohh... nice backstory for the Fort/Castle. Though considering it's near the door to the Shivering Isles and at it happened at the end of an age when it opens....

Anyways looking forward to more. (Though not really expecting Dakarai to still be there in two minutes, let along a few hours.)

Grits: I wanted to paint an icky picture with Dakari of someone who has completely fallen apart. I am glad it worked! Yay, another Pitch Black fan! Here I thought there were only two of us in the Universe (myself and my friend Jaelyn). Did you know that the Hunter-Gratzner got its name from the FX guys on the film?


Thomas Kaira: Castle Usher? I agree that the kind of noble who would pay to hunt people (when you can just walk in the Arena instead, or become a knight) is not someone with the chops to pose a threat to Teresa. But then again, no one said they would be alone... How about the raucous cry of a raven to ratchet things up?


Acadian: I wanted to make Dakarai ambiguous. On one hand we know he works for Kurdan, but on the other he did try to talk Teresa out of going to the castle on several occasions.


liliandra nadiar: When I came up with the background for Castle Grief, I was inspired by the Roanoke Colony in North Carolina. I wanted not only a good reason for the military base to be abandoned, but also one for why no one else has moved in. I think the word "Croatoan" scrawled across one wall pretty well takes care of the latter...


Previously On Teresa of the Faint Smile: In our last episode Teresa met with the fisherman Dakarai, a drunken wastrel in debt to Kurdan. He ferried her to Castle Grief, in spite of trying to talk her out of going there several times, and warning her that it would be her end if she did. Next, Teresa explores the ruins of the castle.


Chapter 40.6 � The Hunter

Teresa turned back to the castle and made her way through the open gateway. She noted that there was no proper gatehouse, with murder holes and arrow-slits lining the entry. Instead the walls and ceiling were solid their entire length, and she stepped directly into the courtyard after walking the ten or so feet through the thickness of the curtain wall.

She found a sprawling bailey within. Mounds of rotten wood dotted the expanse, and Teresa imagined that they might have once been daub and wattle homes built by the vanished settlers. Here and there stone stairs rose along the inside of the walls, and led to the parapets above. Thick, round towers bulged from the corners of the ward, their doors missing like those of the main gate.

Directly across from her was the keep. It rose above the outer walls, its stone face dotted with empty windows and arrow-slits. Its main entrance yawned open as well, and it was to this that Teresa strode. It was probably the first place Aleron would look, she imagined, so it would be the best place to start searching for him.

Pausing at the entrance, Teresa drew forth a swallowtail and set it to the nock of her bow. Since Aleron's boat was the only one on the island, she reasoned that there were no bandits or smugglers present. That meant no one in armor, whom she would need an armor-piercing arrow for. If there were undead however, she knew her broad head would do the most harm to their rotting flesh and bones.

The interior of the castle was dim, but enough light filtered in through the open windows to see by. As Aia had told her, it had been plundered of anything valuable long ago. The tables, chairs, even the doors, had all been removed. Not to mention adornments such as rugs, tapestries, chandeliers, or candelabra. All that remained was the dirt, crumbled mortar, and other detritus that covered the floor.

She scanned for footprints. But the layer of debris was not thick enough for a print to make a noticeable depression. Nor could she tell which parts might have been disturbed by rushing feet, or just the wind. No sound came to her ears either. Not even the cry of a seagull. It seemed that all life had forsaken the empty shell of Castle Grief.

As much as she wanted to sprint through the ruins crying out Aleron's name, Teresa remained silent and patient. If there was some monster lurking here and killing those who visited, she had no intention of alerting it to her presence. Instead she went slowly and methodically, and searched every floor of the keep one at a time, until she had cleared the highest tower.

Yet her exploration yielded no results, so the wood elf trudged down to the ground floor. Making her way to the rear of the keep, she found the entrance to the cellars beneath the castle. Why was everything underground? She drew the nighteye goggles from her Thieves Bag and settled them around her features. Then she ventured into the dark underbelly of the fortress, now lit to noon-day brightness thanks to her goggles.

First there was a wide chamber, that Teresa imagined was once a storeroom, perhaps even a wine cellar. She followed the only corridor that led from it, and passed by several other smaller rooms to either side. The hallway twisted and turned, and Teresa realized that it was doing so to take up every foot of available space beneath the keep and bailey.

Then she found a body. It was a skeleton really, clad in ragged clothing. It lay sprawled out in the middle of the corridor. Teresa froze and stared at the remains. She watched it for any signs of movement, and listened for the telltale rattle of bones. After long minutes of silence and stillness, she once more moved forward, and poked a leg bone of the skeleton with the toe of her boot.

Nothing happened. Confident that the corpse was not going to rise up and attack her, Teresa kneeled down beside it. Its clothing was dusty and stank of mold. Along with the lack of flesh, Teresa imagined that meant it had been there for some time. A closer inspection revealed numerous small holes in the clothing, and bite marks on the bones underneath. She knew what made those: rats. She had seen what they would do to an unguarded corpse in the Chamber Pot.

She found what she was looking for in the upper tunic of the skeleton. There was a large rent in the shoulder of the fabric , near where it joined the neck. Exploring underneath it, she found the bones hacked apart. There was not just one cut, but several. Whoever did it obviously had strength, Teresa imagined, or an enchanted blade. As deep as the blows were, she knew that the weapon which had had made them must have gotten stuck in the bones. Yet obviously the killer had worked it loose, only to chop again, and again. They must have really wanted the victim dead.

Well, whoever you are, you are not Aleron, Teresa thought. Rising to her feet, she continued down the hallway. She found another body in a nearby room, also picked clean by the rats. Again she found proof of a violent end. This time a neck whose vertebrae were hacked nearly in two.

As disturbing as the sight was, she took heart from the fact that whatever had done it had not been a professional. Even with as little as she knew of swordsmanship, she knew that you did not simply hack into people's bones. That would trap your weapon in the corpse, and leave you open to a counterattack by another foe. It was an amateur that did this. Perhaps an undead one. But an amateur none the less.

Teresa found a third corpse as she went deeper into the gloom of the castle. Again, it was a clumsy murder, this time revealed by a blade that had been driven vertically between the ribs. She could tell by the deep gouges in the bones to top and bottom. Again, she knew that would have trapped the sword that had done it. That was why Pappy always told her to hold her dagger horizontally when she stabbed at the chest.

By now she realized that while the bodies wore clothes, none held any valuables, or weapons. Clearly someone had taken them. Furthermore, their clothing looked to have been worn and threadbare even in life. It was not the padded suits of thick cloth worn under armor either, but the simple garb of the poor. These had not been experienced adventurers, she realized, just ordinary people.

Could a necromancer have killed them? Teresa had to admit that it was similar to Vilverin. Yet even animated skeletons seemed to know more about killing than what she saw here. This was plain butchery.

Besides, what would simple commoners be doing all the way out here at Castle Grief? Looking for hidden treasure? It was a long way to go, unless one had a ship. But there had been no boats other than Aleron's outside. She thought of Dakarai. How convenient it was that he had been free to bring her to the island. How many of these men had he also brought here on a one-way trip?

She reflexively looked behind her, half expecting to find the Redguard sneaking up on her. Yet her goggles revealed nothing but an empty corridor. Dakarai hardly seemed like a killer in any case. He was soft, worn out, and empty. He was nothing like Kurdan and his henchmen.

"Damn me for a fool," Teresa hissed in the silence. It was so obvious now. Dakarai was just the transportation. He brought the victims here, where no one would hear their screams, or find their bodies. But someone else did the killing. The Redguard had even tried to talk her into abandoning her search for Aleron. More than once in fact. Yet she had ignored him. But how could she have simply left the Breton here to an uncertain fate?

She found how certain his fate was when the squeaking of rats came to her elf ears. She turned the next corner and found Aleron under a pile of the vermin. Without thinking, she drew her bow and skewered one with an arrow. Her Flare spell filled the hallway with fire a moment later, and the rats scattered to their hidey-holes in the walls.

She stepped up to the flabby Breton, and felt an empty pit yawn open in her heart. Just a few months ago he had taken her and Chance to the Imperial City. He had been so full of life then. She remembered him grousing about the trip, laughing at White Gold Tower and the sexual organ it had reminded him of, and even bragging about his son's ability to handle a dory.

Why did you do it Aleron? Why didn't you come to your friends, instead of trying to do this on your own? Was it just male pride? Were you afraid of anyone else finding out just how deeply you had mucked things up with your gambling? Teresa knelt down beside his body, and instantly found the blow that had done him in. The back of his head was hacked open in several long cuts. By a sword or axe Teresa could not tell, but she could see that the chops were deep.

There was no sign of the arming sword she had given him after Culotte. Since it was worth two months of a laborer's salary, that did not surprise Teresa. His pockets were also empty. An extinguished lantern lay near his body, and when the wood elf picked it up, she felt the oil still sloshing within. It was so worn and battered, she imagined that his killer must have not considered it worth taking.

It was Kurdan, she thought. He was the one that had sent Aleron. He was the one who knew the fisherman would be here. Teresa did not understand the reason for the elaborate scheme. If the crimelord had wanted to make an example of Aleron, why lure him here and kill him where no one would ever know? That would not strike fear into the hearts of other would-be defaulters. He should have killed the fisherman in Bravil, so everyone knew not to cross him.

A raven croaked in the gloom behind her. Teresa's gaze snapped back toward the entrance of the basement. Someone was coming. They were here for her, just as they had been for Aleron. Even now their boat was nearing the shore. It would land in minutes. She did not understand how she knew it, she just did, as if Raven had told her.

You weren�t kidding when you said castle! You certainly gave it the appropriate grandness of scale. Wonderful descriptions.

�Why was everything underground?�
Why indeed? The 64,000 septim question.

Teresa has been paying attention during her time in the FG. I very much enjoyed reading her analysis of how the bodies had been killed. And more importantly, her astute observations about the killer(s). These observations each time she discovered remains were the glue that really wrapped this tight and suspenseful episode together so nicely.

A nice touch, upon discovering Aleron, to briefly share some of her memories of him.

Yay for Raven! I really liked how you ended here. Okay, it was sort of a cliffy, but you left us a comfortable trail of breadcrumbs regarding what is likely to happen next. Gulp. I�m hopeful that whoever comes for Teresa is as clumsy and amateurish as those who killed the others down there. And confident that Teresa is not a helpless commoner who lacks the ability to defend herself.

Nit?
�This time a neck halfway chopped in half.�
I paused at the repetition of �half� in close proximity here. Perhaps the word severed can help? Possibly something like: �A chop to the neck had nearly {or halfway if you prefer} severed the poor soul�s head.� Or: 'A chop had halfway severed the neck.'

A masterfully woven mystery-eventually-solved!

Very enjoyable to see Teresa's thoughts range from undead to undead-in-the-rough to eventually (with Raven's timely assistance, of course) something far more sinister.

And yet another adventurer cliche comes to play: it is always far more difficult to get out than it is to get in. But, as you described gruesomely well, these people coming for her (likely) are far from professional killers.

Oh, and they can't see in the dark, can they?

Poor Teresa, everything's always underground/indoors which limits archery from being optimal. She should really give a week or so to learn a basic summon. Since she learned the other spells in a day(ish) a 'more complex' one shouldn't be too much harder, despite what she thinks of her own ability. That or step up her dagger training.

Can see the reasoning behind finding Aleron already dead as opposed to the game, though I think it loses some of the impact the game gave of find the key only to see him cut down just as you emerge.

My BFF Pam is also a fan, so there are at least four of us!

Teresa really shines here as she methodically searches for Aleron. I love the castle! I felt as if I was seeing it as Teresa, right in her mind as she explored. I admire her focus as she conducted her investigation in that creepy atmosphere. She was tense but in control of herself. Her experience shows, especially where she was able to determine so much from the bodies. I especially liked her observation about the clothing not being the sort worn under armor.

It�s good to hear from Raven. Now Teresa might have a chance to give the murderer(s) a surprise. This is definitely one of my favorite episodes in the TF!

Yay Stalk-battle scene coming up!

Teresa m'girl...my plea to thee: kill the fetchers in inventive ways! Let THEM know what it is to be hunted by an implacable, shadowy nemesis!!!