Once again I meet an old friend in the words that entranced me when I read them the first time.

Yep. That's our Vols all right.

And you may remember, Rosa, that it was THEN that your readership rose up in a body and demanded more and more of Mr. Vols!!!

How wonderfully 'mystical' that Teresa knew Martin was dead - perfectly done! In fact I very much enjoy the things you incorporate from mystical sources like her raven spirit, what she learned from Morcant etc. Let me put in a request to see more of Morcant at some point. I love that her influence on Teresa seems to be enduring.

This whole segment/chapter taking place in the Imperial City was very, very neat.

This little optional touch flowed perfectly from what preceded it. A lovely glimpse into a detail of Teresa's youth. It helps make her so very real. I'm so glad you put this in.

What a perfect touch you have here - powerful enough to bring a tear.
Volsinius captures, for me, every one of those Legion soldiers in the game who has saved us from wolves, lions or worse - sometimes losing their lives in the process.
Now. . . we absolutely must see more of Vols. Without making assumptions from the previous version of your story, I so hope you have plans for him.

The last two segments very much captured the essance of the calm after the storm and the initial attempts to pick things up. They're well told and round off both Teresa and Simplicia as characters.

Thinking of the piece as a whole that is very much what it was, a development and rounding and refining of Teresa in which she slowly but drastically changed and the influences around her which caused it. You certainly succeeded in that as I could point to no single turning point though I could easily see several large forces (Uriel Septim & Morcant spring to mind).

It also developed the setting well, you took the game world and, after making some major tweaks, made it into a living breathing entity in which to write. The extra detail which wouldn't fit in game fleshes tings out and I'd go as far as to say adds to the gameplay itself.

My main (only?) criticism would be over plot, though that is a matter of taste and probably just me being male. It was exceptionally character driven and worked well for it but in my opinion it would have been nice were she to have been more than a casual observer (or had some other drive, though in many ways her drive being finding herself worked well).

Anyway an enjoyable piece and I await with interest to see what you produce next.

This segment is even better than the way I remember it - you have explored Teresa's mixed feelings about Vols and her determination to save his life in spite of his past treatment of her very well.

And yes, Acadian is right, this is when your readers rose up as one and demanded more of Vols previously. I do hope that we will still see more of him.

All: I went back and put in pics of Jensine and Gelephor in Chapter 11c.

D.Foxy: Thank you foxy. More Vols in the future.


Acadian: Thank You Acadian. The reason for Teresa hearing Martin's voice will be made clear in a few segments, when she learns that one other person heard it as well.

There will be more Morcant sometime in the near future. But first Teresa has some things closer to home to sort out before she can see her Witch mentor.

You have skewered my intentions exactly with Vols. He is meant to symbolize the Imperial Legion as a whole. For better and for worse. He certainly does in Teresa's eye, and plays a major role in her feelings toward soldiers.


Olen: Thank you Olen. You might say that the last chapter completed Teresa's first story arc, whose main goal on my part was simply to establish a baseline for who she is. Starting with this chapter a new arc will begin that will see even more changes on her part, as she begins to finally truly live her life.

You are correct that ever since Teresa left Weynon, there has been no single, overreaching plot. In the original TF on the Bethesda I split it up into more self-contained stories. But that left gaps between where a lot did happen. When I came over here to Chorrol I decided to do away with that, and simply tell her tale from the beginning to as far as it goes. As Acadian once said about the BF, think of it as a tv show rather than a movie.

I do have story arcs plotted out, with definite beginning, middle, and ends, along with clear goals. What some of them are may not be clear until they have developed for a while, and a few will be simultaneous. In fact, one begins this chapter. As ever though, character development remains my focus. So things that are important to Teresa will be seen as well, whether or not they fit into one of the arcs.


haute ecole rider: Thank you haute. Teresa's feelings toward Volsinius are still very mixed, and probably will be for some time.


Next: Teresa and Simplicia must pick up the pieces at Jensine's, and Teresa receives a proposition that will come to change her life.


* * *

Chapter 12.1- Aftermath

30th Midyear, 3E433

"Well, it looks like we finally got all the blood out," Simplicia sighed, wiping the dampness from her brow with her forearm. She dropped the stiff brush and rags that she held into the bucket of soapy water beside her, and slowly rose to her feet with a popping of old joints.

"I never thought it would get clean," Teresa replied, still kneeling on the floor next to the aging Imperial woman. Her armor ruined, she now wore a simple linen tunic and drawsting pants that she had found in Jensine's storeroom. "It's hard to believe that just yesterday this place was a wreck."

The red-haired Bosmer looked across the bare public room of Jensine's 'Good As New' Merchandise. Thanks to her and Simplicia the bodies had all been taken away and either buried or burned, the broken furniture sold off for firewood, and the walls, floor, and even ceiling were now scrubbed free of blood and gore.

"It probably hasn't looked this good in years," Simplicia observed as she straightened the folds of her tattered green dress, "a little empty though."

"Too bad Jensine can't see it," Teresa said, glancing at the stairs leading to the second floor above. Jensine would not be getting out of bed for some time, she knew, given how bad her head wounds were. The thought made the forester turn to Simplicia and gently touch her graying hair.

"How are your legs?" the willowy Bosmer asked, biting her lower lip with care, "do they still hurt?"

"Oh you dote on me too much little one," the old woman replied with a smile, taking Teresa's hand in her own. "I'm fine. It'll take more than a few Daedra to put this old woman down!"

Teresa looked down at herself with a twinge of guilt. Her healing spell had sufficed to mend her own injuries. It had taken an eternity of her casting the spell over and over again, but in the end she felt fine. Yet she could not heal others with it, so there had been nothing she could do for Jensine or Simplicia.

Teresa wondered how Volsinius was doing? The Imperial Legion had come during the night to take him away, what was left of him at least. He was in good hands with them, she knew. But after the terrible injuries he had suffered, it was difficult for Teresa to imagine him ever truly recovering.

"Why don't we take a break for a while?" the wood elf said, "then we can bring stuff up from the storeroom downstairs and start making this place look like a shop again. Maybe we could take off the basement door and move it here to the front of the shop, so it's not wide open anymore. We should probably check in on Jensine upstairs too. She might be getting hungry by now."

"It feels so strange to be working again!" Simplicia exclaimed as she plodded over to the stairway leading to Jensine's living quarters above.

Years of suffering from stonejoint had done terrible harm to the old woman's joints, Teresa thought as she watched the Imperial shuffle across the floor. She had cured her once she had learned how to create the right potion. But by then the damage had already been done, and there was no curing that. That was why everyone called her Simplicia the Slow.

Teresa snapped herself from her thoughts and went to the back of the shop where a pitcher of goat's milk and several porcelain cups sat on the floor. She poured them each a cup and met Simplicia at the stairs as the old woman sat down on one of the steps. With every chair in the shop destroyed during yesterday's fighting, it was the only place to sit.

"Well, I think you are going to have to get used to it old girl," Teresa said with a faint smile as she sat next to the beggar and took a sip from her own cup, "Jensine is going to be laid up for a long time, and she is going to need someone to run this place, not to mention look after her."

"Do you think she would pay me for that?" Simplicia's eyes widened with something that Teresa had not seen in them for the longest time, hope. "She said she would pay us to clean up the shop, but never anything about staying around."

"I don't see why not. She used to have Gelephor stock shelves for her, and now he's…" Teresa did not finish her sentence, glancing across the room to the spot on the floor where the man had died. Swallowing hard, she looked back to the old woman beside her. "And you see how Jensine is now. She can't even get out of bed. There aren't enough healing potions or healers to go around to fix her. It'll be a long time before she's on her feet again."

"Well here is to us then," Simplicia said with a smile, holding her cup up in a toast, "honest women both of us. Who would have imagined it?"

The young Bosmer clinked her own cup against the old Imperial's with a faint smile and drank down the thick, warm liquid. The taste brought back memories of childhood. Simplicia had always insisted that she drink milk, claiming it was healthy, and relegated herself to nothing but water so that Teresa could have it all. Only when she had grown much older had the forester realized that Simplicia had often been going without anything to eat as well, just to make sure Teresa had enough.

With that thought Teresa put her arm around Simplicia's waist and held her close. Laying her head on the old woman's shoulder, she closed her eyes and wished she could take her away from the city to somewhere better.

* * *

The sound of someone knocking on the doorframe brought Teresa's head up with a start. Standing in the open entrance to the shop was the tallest Altmer that the forester had ever seen, quite an accomplishment for a race that was naturally lofty to begin with. In fact, Teresa was sure she had never seen anyone as tall as him in her life. The blue velvet clothing he wore said that he was money, and Teresa wondered if he had chosen the color on purpose to complement his short, flaxen hair.

"Excuse the disturbance my ladies," he said in a deep voice while his amber eyes settled upon Teresa, "I am looking for a Bosmer woman, an explorer of some ability named Teresa. Might I have discovered her?"

"Maybe," Simplicia spoke up in a wary tone as Teresa was trying to phrase an answer, "who's looking for her?"

"Please excuse my presumption and allow me to introduce myself." The Altmer man stepped further into the shop and bowed. "I am Lurkos, the personal assistant of Lord Umbacano. My Lord has a business proposition he would like to discuss with the aforementioned Teresa. I have been apprised that she sometimes performs business transactions here? Would one of you be the owner of this fine establishment perhaps?"

"No," Teresa said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable at the towering man's polished manners and speech. He was certainly money, she thought, and people with money did not go looking for people without it, unless they wanted some dirty business done. With that in mind she stood and fixed the symbol for her Flare spell in her mind. "Jensine's laid up right now. I'm Teresa. Who told you I was here, and why are you looking for me?"

"I believe you sold a rare and curious item of Ayleid origin to an entrepreneur residing in Cheydinhal, a woman named Borba gra-Uzgash?" said Lurkos, "if I am mistaken, then please accept my apologies for disturbing you, and I will bid you a good day."

"You mean the welkynd stones?" Teresa bit her lower lip as she searched her memory. The only Ayleid artifacts she had ever sold - or ever seen for that matter - were the ones she found in Vilverin. That had been weeks ago, she thought, and she had indeed sold it all to an orc in Cheydinhal.

"Oh no, my Lord already possess a multitude of welkynd stones," the towering Altmer explained. "This was something far more unique."

What else had she found there? Teresa ruminated. The books of the necromancer? Or the lighter weapons of the bandits? Then she had it.

"That funny statue?"

"Yes indeed, the Ancestor," said the Altmer. "My Lord Umbacano is a collector of such rare antiquities, and is interested in your services."

"What's this about ancestors and Ayleids?" Simplica rose to her feet, laying a hand on Teresa's arm, "you never said anything about Ayleids. You haven't been poking around those ruins have you?"

"It wasn't like that." Well, yes it was, Teresa thought as she turned to face the old woman. "I was just exploring and I found it."

"Found it!" Simplicia exclaimed, "no one just finds Ayleid dreck! You said you wouldn't go around those places. They're all cursed by the gods, and anyone who puts their nose in them is likely to be cursed too!"

"There was no one in it," Teresa bit her lip again. No one alive at least, she thought, except for the necromancer who she was not about to mention. "It was really nothing at all."

"If I have come at a bad time I can return at a later hour," the Altmer said, looking distinctly uncomfortable to be witness to their squabble.

"It's a bad time," Simplicia insisted, lurching across the floor in the Altmer's direction, "don't ever come back!"

"Simplicia!" Teresa tugged on the old woman's arm to stop her and whispered in her ear, "this could mean good money for me!"

"What good is money if you are dead?" Simplicia said in a loud voice as she turned to look at the wood elf, "if it were safe, that butler would go get it himself. He's only hiring you because he doesn't want to get killed."

"Just have faith in me for once!" Teresa raised her voice, "I can't spend the rest of my life running and hiding!"

"I never said..." Simplicia's words trailed off as Teresa bounded across the room to the open doorway. The Altmer man was already gone, and Teresa did not see the beggar slump her shoulders in defeat behind her as she scurried out into the street.

Yes, I feel for Simplica. Love IS hard.

Aye, poor Simplicia. She nearly lost her foster-daughter in a recent event where so many friends and neighbors have died. Now she is learning to what extent her beloved Teresa has matured and developed in her own direction. Scary thought for any mother (just ask mine!).

I really liked how you showed the struggle to return to normalcy after the crisis - how the damage has affected everyone. That is something Beth really fell down on. While the fires burn eternally in Kvatch and the Mages Guild, all we see of the Crisis itself are a few broken pavement-stones in the Temple District. Your depiction of the aftermath is so much more realistic, as are the actions of the characters afterwards.

What a joy to tune in for another episode of the Teresa show.

As always, I love your rich interaction between characters that is so natural, yet yields so much insight into their character. Yay! You kept Lurch! As soon as the very tall Almer came into the store, I smiled. I'm also very glad to realize that hopefully Jensine will be ok. She's a nice Nord and runs a clean, fair shop. Every girl needs some trademarks; I love that Teresa has her characteristic faint smile and bites her lower lip when troubled - may she never lose those endearing habits.


Certainly can't fault Simplicia's wisdom or logic here.

Oooh! What a wonderful way to end here.

Nit: I'm sure you mean 'your'.

Teresa is beginning to display the hallmarks of a psijic initiate. Her dream flights, precognition, hearing voices that others can’t. Acadian is right, she seems to have a natural affinity to mysticism (at least what I imagine mysticism to be).

Hooray, some of my armor did survive! All you have to do, Teresa, is walk out of Jensine’s store and hang a right. Head to The Best Defense (mind you don’t trip over the daedra), Gin-Wulm will fix that right up for you.

And who is this Lurkos? I prefer Umbacano’s regular manservant, Jollring. Simplicia’s reaction was priceless. What is it about the need that we have to yell at those we love, not for what did happen, but for what might have happened?

Ah, this makes more sense... When you called the part prior to last the epilogue I thought the story finished there rather than just that 'arc'. Now all makes far more sense, and it follows the aftermath of the crisis, that should be most interesting and enjoyable given the depth you've already given the world.

And the next arc is introduced. More running round Ayleid ruins sounds great to me, even if Simplicia is characteristically alarmed by the idea. It's nice to see you developing Simplicia too, makes me wonder how having a job will change her.

I'm looking forward to some statue hunting.

D.Foxy: That it is. Thank you Fox.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.o. You and Foxy have both hit upon something that I have been making an effort to better portray in the TF 2.0 - the natural conflict between a parent who wants their child to be safe, and the teen who is growing into their own life. The latter is only exacerbated by the fact that Teresa's new life is a dangerous one, and Simplicia has issues of her own that make her worry more that the usual person might.

Plenty more of the Aftermath in the next few chapters. The devastation of the Oblivion Crisis, and the hard work of picking up the pieces afterward, are one of the things I want to portray.


Acadian: You rang? Yes indeed, Jensine will be back, and ought to be appearing in future chapters, although she will never be the woman she once was. I did manage to work in both of Teresa's trademarks in that last segment didn't I? She writes so easily that the little personal touches like that flow out quite naturally.

Thank you for wrangling up my missing "r" there as well.


Destri Melarg: I'd say that you are giving Teresa a little too much credit. While she has learned to follow her spirit guide, that is not something truly remarkable from a society where everyone has one (or has some other strong spiritual path). You are mistaking her with Morcant when it comes to precognition, and the reason for her hearing Martin's voice will be made clear later in this chapter, when we will learn that another person did as well.

You will not find any round-ears in Umbacano's employ. Why will eventually be clear, although not until sometime in the distant future.


Olen: Teresa will indeed be doing some ruin-diving. But like Buffy, she tends to get distracted by shiny things. Umbacano's mission will provide the motivation for a major shift in the setting in the future however (which will provide Teresa with more shiny things to distract her of course!).


Next: On the next episode of the Teresa Show, our intrepid forester learns just how eccentric the wealthy can be.

* * *

Chapter 12.2- Aftermath

Lurkos had not gotten far down the main boulevard that cut through the Market District however, and Teresa's quick feet were able to catch up to him in moments. For all his imposing height, the Altmer man moved quite slowly, as if he were deliberately choosing each step before he took it. Or if he were waiting for Teresa to catch up to him…

"So tell me more about your boss," the forester said, smoothing down the linen tunic she wore. "Why does he want these Ayleid statues so much?"

"My master is a man of great refinement and scholarly achievement," Lurkos replied without turning his head to look at her. "The Ayleids are of a particular and most singular personal interest to him, as you will see."

The towering Altmer would say no more as he led Teresa through the streets of the Elven Gardens. This was the first time the wood elf had ventured beyond the Market District since the Daedra had attacked. Everywhere she looked her eyes were greeted with the same scenes however. Doors and windows were smashed, and dark stains from what she knew to be blood marred the streets and walls. People looked dazed, their clothing torn and bloody as they went about the work of rebuilding. Everyone was quiet and reserved, in mourning for the dead.

In time Lurkos brought her to the heart of the Talos Plaza District, where a statue of a roaring dragon loomed in the wide central square. The rim of the circular plaza was lined with great manors of stone that loomed high overhead, many decorated with large towers. Yet none were as grand as the spire of White Gold Tower which floated in the sky behind them.

This place seemed barely disturbed, Teresa thought. There were no broken windows or doors, although many of them appeared to be much newer than the stones in which they were set. There were still stains of blood in the streets, but as she looked on people clad in simple working clothes were busy scrubbing them away.

Lurkos did not pause as he led Teresa through the plaza and directly to one of the manors. Producing a large key from one of his pockets as he reached the front door, he deftly inserted it into the lock and opened it with a clanking of mighty tumblers. That one must be quite a challenge to pick, Teresa could not help but to think as he motioned her inside.

The room within was nothing short of magnificent. The walls were hung with velvet and brocade tapestries, and the stone floors covered with thick, soft carpets. Display cases lined the walls, revealing all manner of weapons, armor, gemstones, and even clothing, all of which looked very strange to Teresa's eyes, as if they were from some bygone era. Most stunning of all was the chandelier that hung from the center of the high vaulted ceiling. It was not lit by candles, but rather by large glowstones.

An Orisimer dressed in gleaming mithril armor and carrying an ornately carved arming sword stood beside the entrance, and a moment later Teresa noticed his partner at the other side of the door. Neither said a word to her, they merely stared with hard, cold eyes as Lurkos led her across the room and up the staircase to the second floor.

Teresa was not disappointed with the upper floor, whose hallway was lined with more silks and decorated with paintings of mighty, yet graceful, white buildings. Teresa had seen their kind before, yet never in one piece. They were Ayleid. She had seen their ruins as she explored the forest, and had been within the one at Vilverin. She wondered if the artifacts in the entry room below were also Ayleid?

The wood elf tried not to touch anything as she followed Lurkos through the mansion. It would be just her luck to knock over a vase that cost a fortune. Looking down at the simple linen clothing she wore, she was intensely aware of how out of place she looked. If only she had put together another suit of leather from the Vilverin loot, she thought to herself, at least then she would look the part of an intrepid explorer, rather than just some lowly plebian from the street.

Lurkos came to a mahogany door and knocked twice. After the muffled sound of a man's voice came from within, he pushed the door completely open and stepped inside, motioning Teresa to follow.

"My Lord Umbacano," he stated gravely, standing as if a legionary at attention, "I bring you the explorer Teresa as you desired."

Teresa found herself in a study that was decorated with the same opulence as the rest of the manor. The walls were lined with bookshelves inlaid with decorative leaves that she could swear were gold. Display cases hosted more strange artifacts, including several welkynd stones, and even a varla stone.

Her eyes quickly noticed a row of marble pedestals lining one wall, all but one of which were empty. Without thinking, she found herself walking into the room to look more closely at it. Upon it sat the same curious statue that she had discovered at the heart of Vilverin. Made of some white metal which she could not identify, it consisted of four needlelike spines that rose from a wide base. The four were linked by a series of horizontal spars to a fifth spine that hung in the center of the statue. That fifth spine was not comprised of the same metal as the rest of the statue, but rather seemed to be of purple crystal.

Clouds of energy swirled lazily within the depths of the crystal, much as she had seen within the heart of the Amulet of Kings. Only the statue did not give her the warm, comfortable feeling that the amulet had. Rather it felt cold and harsh, even when just looking at it now and not holding it in her hands. Teresa still had no idea what it was. She had taken it simply because it looked valuable.

"Ah yes, I have been so looking forward to this..." a man's voice snapped Teresa from her musings.

She turned to see an Altmer man dressed in brocade rising from a desk that was carved from rosewood and inlaid with gold and silver. He was tall, as all high elves were, although nowhere near the towering height of Lurkos. His soft brown hair was carefully sculpted into a peak at the top of his head, and his eyes seemed to be sparkling emeralds as they bored into her. What she really noticed was the paleness of his skin however, easily as white as her own.

"It is lovely is it not?" he said as he walked to her side and gestured at the statue, "one of the ten great Ancestors. All of my life I have longed to have one in my collection, and now thanks to you it is so."

"Ancestors?" Teresa asked, feeling more and more uncomfortable with every step he took closer to her. Given his eyes and skin, a part of her thought they might be siblings. His hair was even the same color as her own, before she had dyed it red at least. The only real difference was the fact that he was an Altmer and she a Bosmer. Yet in spite of their similarities, she had a nagging feeling of danger, as if she were walking across a bridge whose boards might give way at any moment.

"Yes. There were ten of them," he said smoothly, casually laying a hand on the small of Teresa's back. It took an extreme effort of will for her to restrain herself from jumping. Something about his touch made her feel like it were the hand of a scorpion, rather than a mer.

"They were created by the Ayleids long ago," he continued, turning to look in her eyes, "it was after the fall of the White Gold Tower and the sack of our beautiful city, but before the final conquests of the Alessian Order. They are objects of great artistic and historical value, like nothing else ever created. Some might say the Ancestors were the Ayleid's last, great working before leaving this world."

Teresa did not like the way he said 'our city', as if he were one of the Ayleids himself rather than an Altmer. Nor did she like the feeling of his hand, or the burning intensity in his green eyes. She stepped away to free herself from his touch, making a show of looking closer at the statue, and instantly felt better.

Had she imagined her unease? she wondered. No, she thought as she looked back at the Altmer. There was something not right about him, something very odd. Yet she could not put her finger on what it was, beyond his very obvious physical similarities with herself.

She shook her head. What was she thinking? she chided herself. So what if he was a little strange and never got out in the sun much? Everyone knew rich people were eccentric, she thought. It came from having all that money and nothing to do.

"I am so glad to finally meet you Teresa," the Altmer said behind her. "Ever since my purchasing agent in Cheydinhal discovered the Ancestor I have greatly desired to meet the adventurous individual who reclaimed it from the darkness of the past. You must be a very resourceful woman indeed."

"Your man Lurkos tells me that you have a business proposition for me?" she asked, thinking about all the money he plainly had, and trying not to look in his eyes.

"Why yes, yes indeed," Umbacano went on. "Given that you have clearly displayed yourself to be suited for the task, I would like for you to recover the remaining nine Ancestors and bring them to me. This is an errand I will compensate you most generously for."

"How generously?" Teresa asked, her eyes narrowing as she studied the man. Just how badly did he want these statues?

"One hundred gold septims for each Ancestor," he stated evenly.

"One hundred!" Teresa tried not to stammer. That was a thousand silver drakes! She could not even imagine what that much money looked like, let alone actually having it. Borba had only given her twenty septims. Now she wished she had known about Umbacano first!

"Do we have a pact then?" Umbacano asked with a smile. From the smug look on his face, Teresa could see that he already knew her answer.

I loved this the first time, and I love it this time as well. You create such a spooky atmosphere. Your richly detailed descriptions of the manor are great, but you really excel at capturing Umbaccano.

Much to like here. A brilliantly subtle review of Teresa's own appearance. It is about time you reminded us of her green eyes (referencing Umbaccano's as emerald in the previous passages). The creaky bridge analysis was so very evocative and appropriate.

Yep, pretty creepy. This made Buffy squirm when we read it.

Well done, Teresa!

The rich subtle spookiness continues. Wonderful.

EDIT: Ahah! I note that you edited to change the coinage around for smaller sums and incorporating 100 drakes = 1 septim.

It was wonderful to see the start of this quest again. Teresa's experience is so unique, and her perspective so powerful, I have not been able to start this quest again since I first read this chapter segment.

You've not only captured Umbacano and his manor well, you've managed to infuse some kind of Lovecraftian mythos into his psyche. Brrgh!

Well done, again. Acadian already pointed out the passages that struck me.

Loved the way you caught Umbaccano being creepy. I hated his guts from moment one. No matter what character I play, I alway end up stealing the statues back and everything else not nailed to the floor in that manor. Before or after he dies, doesn't matter.

I like Unbaccano and can see why you chose this quest. After your first Alyeid ruin I want to know how you build their culture. Certainly you have him as a 'has it coming' character. But you also show another side to Teresa, she knows that he's bad news and doesn't like him but she's still just greedy enough to take the job.

And as for distractons along the way... I suppose I'll ahve to wait and read the next part.

What is it about Umbacano Manor that makes all of my characters likewise feel so under-dressed, no matter what they are wearing? I agree with everyone else, this chapter was both atmospheric and ominous. I think I know where you are going with Umbacano’s insistence on having no so-called ‘round-ears’ in his employ, we’ll just have to see if I’m right.

This will be the first time that I can remember Teresa ignoring her instincts in favor of all those pretty septims. Why do I get the feeling that this will not end well?

Acadian & h.e.o. & Remko: Thank you. I worked hard to try to make Umbacano feel dangerous. He always seems like a doofus to me in the game.


Olen: I do have some ideas about the Ayleids, such as a preference for the color white (hence the white stone of their ruins, white armor of their soldiers, etc...). It will take a long time for this quest to come to fruition however.


Destri Melarg: Both Olen and yourself hit upon the fact that Teresa's greed is overruling her good sense. She has had a taste of money, and she likes it. As I am sure everyone knows, that never ends well.


All: As Acadian noticed, I have done some world-building with currency. Following h.e.o.'s example I have made the silver drake the standard coin, with the gold septim being worth 10 drakes. The drakes will often be cut in half or quarters for small purchases, and will be minted with grooves to make that easy. That is an idea I got from history, as a vast number of the coins found in Viking Age Scandinavia were cut up like that.

I also sat down and made up a list of common prices for things, and basic monthly wages for some professions. Given that I will probably be using exact amounts in the future. I have also went back to the old chapters and adjusted the amounts of things where I did set an exact number.


Next: Teresa learns the full extent of the devastation, and renews and old acquaintance. This will be a big one, but I did not want to break it in the middle of things.

* * *

Chapter 12.3- Aftermath

Teresa left Umbacano Manor feeling slightly lightheaded. Nine thousand drakes! she imagined, what might that buy? She could buy a small insula for that! Not some rat-infested tenement in the Arena District either, but a somewhere nice like the Elven Gardens. There would be plenty left over for fancy new clothes, jewelry, and gourmet food.

Her daydreams of wealth did not last for long however, as she found her feet had taken her to the Temple District instead of back to Jensine's shop. Ever since she had heard Emperor Martin's voice in her head, and later heard people talk of his sacrifice, she had wanted to see for herself. Having been the one to smuggle the Amulet of Kings to Jauffre, she had felt strangely connected to him, and of course to his father Uriel, in spite of only seeing Martin once in the flesh.

What if she had insisted that she help after she gave the amulet to Jauffre? Would things have turned out differently? Teresa wondered. Or would Martin – Saint Martin as he was already being called – still be dead?

No, she knew that Jauffre would have never allowed it. For all that he was nice to her, he would have never let her near the new Emperor. Not with her being a street urchin and refugee from prison. Heroes did not come from back alleys and shantytowns, she thought, they were not people who thought of stealing a loaf of bread when the deliveryman came by. Whatever she was, whatever she had become since meeting the Emperor, it was certainly not a hero!

She found the Temple District was a stark contrast to Talos Plaza. The air reeked of death, a smell she knew well after Vilverin. Here she could see entire buildings smashed into piles of rubble. Massive stone blocks lay scattered across the district, as if thoughtlessly cast aside by giants. The roads had been cleared enough to let carts pass back and forth. Yet there were still bodies of all varieties sprawled in pools of dried blood throughout the wreckage, crows and rats picking over them in a gruesome feast. Normally the crows would have brought at least a faint smile to Teresa's lips, but not given what they were dining upon.

Clustered around the Temple of the One itself were row upon row of people lying in the street. Some were covered in blankets and had makeshift pillows thrust beneath their heads. Others were merely stretched out over the bare stone. Most were heavily bandaged or otherwise showed signs of terrible injuries. Some were missing limbs, others she could see suffered from burns as priests and priestesses changed their bandages, revealing their savaged flesh underneath the cloth. A cacophony of groans and occasional screams rose into the air, and Teresa felt her stomach churn. She was not sure what was worse, looking at the carnage, or the knowledge that she could do absolutely nothing to help.

The Temple itself lay in ruins. The remnants of its walls were blackened from fire, and its massive dome was simply gone, as if some great hand had snatched away the entire top of the structure. Rising above its broken walls was a statue of a massive dragon, its leathery wings stretching out high into the sky overhead. Its serpentine head reared back on a long, sinuous neck, and its jaws were open wide in what might have been a roar of triumph.

Aside from the Imperial Palace and White Gold Tower, the Temple of the One was the largest, most imposing building Teresa had ever seen in her life. A single granite block from its walls was the size of a wagon. Teresa gaped, wondering what in the world could have smashed it as if was nothing but a child's toy?

She knew the answer of course, Mehrunes Dagon, the Daedric Prince of Destruction.

Teresa's gaze fell down to the flagstones of the street upon which she stood. Most of the people who had been here yesterday were dead now, she thought, or were stretched out around the temple in bodies that were shattered like glass under a hammer. If she had been standing here rather than in Jensine's she would be dead too, she knew. Her body shook at the thought as she looked around at the maimed and the dead. There but for the grace of the Nine, she would be too…

She felt the urge to bolt rise within her. Yet something drove her feet onward, past the rows of maimed survivors and into the broken shell of the Temple of the One itself. She did not really know why, some morbid curiosity perhaps, or maybe a sense of duty to the old Emperor and his son Martin. All she did know was that she had to see it all.

Teresa gasped when she set her eyes upon the interior. She had been within the temple once, years ago. It had been the most awe-inspiring thing she had ever seen, with its massive dome that had seemed to float in the air overhead. The walls had been of shining marble inlaid with gold, silver, and gemstones. Even the floor had been polished to such a high sheen that she had been able to see her reflection in it. Most incredible of all had been the dragonfire burning in the central atrium, a brilliant yellow flame that blazed with no fuel. A fire that did not consume, but rather radiated light and warmth.

Now it was all gone: the dome, the polished marble, precious metals, even the divine fire. Only shattered and blackened stones remained to whisper the tale of what had once stood. That, and the titanic dragon that now loomed in the center of the temple.

Even though the roof of the temple was gone, the great dragon's wings cast its interior in shadow. Now Teresa could see that its body was supported by slender legs, if something as wide as tree trunks could be called slender, while an equally thick tail snaked out behind it. The entire thing barely fit within the walls of the temple, it was so huge.

"Akatosh..." Teresa whispered, staring up at the statue in wonder.

"Yes, Akatosh, that is him," a familiar voice came from behind her ear. Teresa turned to see a Redguard standing just outside the broken walls of the temple. Her face was lined and weathered with age and care, and her snow-white hair tied behind her head in a ponytail. A curved Akaviri sword hung from her hip, and she still wore the mail armor and Kvatch surcoat that Teresa had seen her in the day before, when she had ridden through the street with Martin Septim. Only now the both were darkened with dried blood, and rent in several places.

"Julian!" Teresa exclaimed in surprise. Part of her wanted to throw her arms around the other woman. Yet she doubted the Redguard would feel the same way. The forester did allow herself a faint smile as she looked on the Blade's worn and tired face however.

"Teresa? is that you really you?" the soldier asked, appearing to be as surprised as the wood elf was. "I looked up and saw the hair, and wondered if it might be."

"I am so glad to see you're alright! What are you doing here though?" Teresa asked, running one hand through her red tresses. "I thought you would be at the palace? Or in one of the tower barracks?"

"I know a Convalescence spell, so I've been helping with the wounded. It takes a lot out of me though." The Redguard looked exhausted, and Teresa noticed that she would not look up at the statue of the dragon above them.

"Are Baurus, and Jauffre here too?" Teresa asked. She wanted to ask about Martin as well, but was afraid she already knew the answer.

"Baurus is in the palace, working with the Chancellor. He's the new Grandmaster now." Julian looked down at her feet, and Teresa knew what that promotion meant, along with her noticeable lack of mentioning Jauffre. Now the wood elf did lay a comforting hand on the Blade's armored shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said, and was surprised to find that she genuinely meant it too. Jauffre had been nice to her, once he had learned she carried the Amulet of Kings. It was hard to imagine him being gone.

The Redguard said nothing, and turned away. Scrambling over broken stones, Teresa stepped out of the ruin of the temple to stand beside her. Now she could no longer keep herself from blurting out the question that had been gnawing at her since the end of the battle yesterday. "What about Martin? I know he's gone too, but no one says exactly what happened to him."

"That is him, in there," the Redguard jerked her chin over her shoulder at the Temple behind them, her voice a rasping whisper. Teresa turned her head, and saw nothing but the towering statue. Then it dawned upon her, the statue was Martin. "He broke the Amulet. The power in it combined with his own blood, and he became Akatosh himself. He defeated Mehrunes Dagon, and sealed Nirn off from Oblivion. But no mortal can take on the power of a god and remain - well, mortal."

Teresa could not help but to gape as she stared up at the great dragon. That was really Martin Septim, she thought, the son of Uriel, who had been in her thoughts so often since she had met him!

"Some people choose poorly. Some choose to be something better." The words of the late Emperor rose from Teresa's memories. Martin had been his father's son, that was for certain. He had chosen well. He had given his life for her, and for everyone on Nirn.

Her eyes fell to her hands, which had held the Amulet of Kings not so long ago. At the time she had thought it was merely a means to prove Martin the rightful heir. Now from what Julian said both it and Martin had been their very salvation from the Daedric hordes. A salvation that she had carried past the enemy to Jauffre, so that he could in turn entrust it to Martin.

Teresa turned back to Julian, and for a moment she thought she saw the Redguard wiping a tear from her dark-skinned cheek. "I heard his voice in my head, at the end," she said. The wood elf was not sure if admitting it to Julian was the best thing to do, but if she could not confide it in the Hero of Kvatch, then who could she tell?

Julian turned with a start, one hand grasping Teresa by the arm. The wood elf could see that her eyes were moist with tears, and when the Redguard spoke, it was in a voice husky with emotion.

"You heard him too!" she hissed.

Teresa nodded. "It was like he was standing right next me. He said the Daedra were defeated, the Oblivion Gates sealed forever, and the amulet destroyed. He said his sacrifice was not in vain, and that he was proud to join his ancestors."

"I thought I was the only one." Julian let go of her arm with a sigh. "No one else heard him. I don't know why only we did. Maybe because we both held the Amulet of Kings. We're the last living people on Nirn to have done so."

"You carried it?" Teresa's brow furrowed in surprise. "I thought Jauffre gave it to Martin after you rescued him?"

"No, there's a lot that most people don't know." Julian said. Now one of her hands closed into a fist, and the forester wondered what she might be thinking. "The Mythic Dawn took it. I was only able to get it back a few days ago."

"So that's why he wasn't wearing it at Bruma!" Teresa exclaimed, remembering her vision of the battle. "Was that weird stone you had part of that? The one from the big gateway?"

"You were at Bruma?" Now it was Julian's turn to look surprised.

"Well, sort of," Teresa bit her lower lip as she tried to think of how to explain it. Well, in for a septim, in for a pound, she thought to herself. "My spirit-guide showed it to me as it happened."

"Your spirit-guide?" Julian looked blank for a moment, then her eyes brightened with understanding. "That's right, you're a Bosmer. I forgot that you have those."

"You know about that?" Teresa could not contain her amazement. No one she had ever met, aside from Morcant of course, seemed to have ever heard of spirit-guides.

"I was stationed in Valenwood for a few years," the Redguard said casually. "Don't hear about too many Bosmer outside of there believing in that though."

"Well, I didn't believe it either," Teresa breathed, "but Raven believed in me. I know this is going to sound strange, but I saw you before Bruma too. You were on the road, with Jauffre and Martin, riding toward the mountains in the north."

"That strange bird…" Julian said quietly, looking down, then back up into Teresa's eyes. "That was you?"

"You saw me?" Teresa's eyes widened. "I didn't think anyone could?"

"You flew right in front of me. It was the strangest thing, but somehow no one else noticed." Julian related. "I had forgotten about it until just now."

"I know this is going to sound crazy," Teresa found herself biting her lip once more, "but somehow it feels like I almost know you."

"I know what you mean." The Redguard forced a weak smile to her lips. "Ever since I held the Amulet of Kings, you've been in my mind for some reason. I keep flashing back to that time we met at Weynon, when all this started."

"Julian!" came the breathless voice of a boy in his early teens. He was wearing bright velvet, and ran up to the Blade to hand her a note. "With the compliments of the Grandmaster."

Julian muttered a word of thanks to the messenger and looked down at the parchment. A frown grew on her face, and a moment later she crumpled it beneath her fist.

"I have to go," she sighed as she looked back up at Teresa. "I wish we had more time, but something's come up. We're short on agents now, and I have to leave the city. I know Baurus wants to talk to you though. Go by the palace later and see him. I'll make sure they know you're coming."

With that the Redguard turned on her heel and marched resolutely toward the towering spire of White Gold Tower, which rose above the grey wall separating the Temple District from the palace grounds in the center of the city. As she walked away, Teresa noted that the Blade was not limping anymore, as she had been at Weynon.

Why would Baurus want to see her though? the wood elf wondered as she stared after the Blade. He wasn't going to throw her back in prison was he? The thought made her heart pick up its pace, and she could not restrain herself from eyeing the soldiers all around.

No, don't be silly, she thought, forcing herself to relax. Maybe there was something he thought that she might know? about the amulet? or the Mythic Dawn? Yes, it must be that, she reasoned. The wood elf resolved go there the next day, and tell him she didn't know a thing, and that would be that.

Still, it had made her feel better to meet Julian again. Somehow she felt a strange bond with the Redguard. They had each been there when an Emperor died. Her with Uriel, and Julian with Martin. They had each carried the Amulet of Kings for them. In spite of the fact that she knew absolutely nothing about the Blade, she still felt that they were connected somehow.

Once again, she wondered if she should have remained behind with Jauffre at Weynon, and insisted to be part of what followed. Would anything have happened differently? Would Martin still be alive? or Jauffre? Or would she really just be one more anonymous corpse like all the others scattered across the district?

What of Jensine? Teresa asked herself suddenly, not really sure where the thought had come from. Would the merchant have survived if she had not been in her shop when the attack happened? Would Volsinius have lived? Or Simplicia? Probably not, she realized.

Teresa knew that she was not a hero, not like Martin Septim or Julian. But maybe, just maybe, she thought that she might be able to do something worthwhile in spite of all her failings.

Ah, how seamlessly have you blended the character from another story, my other Red Riter!!!

Julian here is so much like the Julian there that quite a few might think that two people, not one, were sitting behind the keyboard...

This was wonderful, and I'm glad you left it as one post.

Teresa's interest in Umbaccano's gold struck me in the last installment as flowing fairly naturally from her desire to help Simplicia. What better way to provide a roof over the old girl's head? Based on her comments in this installment however, I wonder if she is 'wowed' by the prospect of gold since she has never had much. Oooh! Now you have me wondering if she is going to get into trouble!

Your description of the city was very well done. I rarely see it, because I prefer not to finish that quest.

Seeing Julian was special. You did a great job at showing how there can be some overlap between the two stories. I loved how you dealt with Jauffre's death.

A tripple cliffie! Julian (of the future) has an assignment from the Blades and Teresa is to meet Baurus again. And, I am still anxious to see how Vols is doing after his horrible wounds.

Well, what can I say?

I loved how you have described the city in the aftermath of the Crisis - you have given me a few ideas for my own story.

As I had said before, you have done well with 'my' character Julian - her elementary nature is captured well here. The old soldier won't let down her guard, yet she finds she can confide in Teresa just a little bit. I didn't realize it sooner, but I noticed how they recognized each other by the hair. Appropriate!

The conversation they had fit their characters well.

Loved it!

Ohh if there were any more hooks in this piece I would come apart. The meeting with Baurus, something about Julian (and doubtless seeing her again), how Vols does, Umbaccano and the trouble that will land her in and her developemtn from that... Yup you certainly lay enough to keep me in deep.

You show the aftermath well, the city feels as it should. I'm interested to see what other changes develop with there beiong no emperor.

An awesome write from our awesome Sage.
Nobody else can bring the IC alive like you can, how can I play the boring main quest and empty IC after reading this?

The way you incorporated Julian into the story was very smooth. Is this two stories or only one that I am reading?
Epic, I say!

D. Foxy: Thank you Foxy. I am not red anymore though. I changed it to sort of a golden brown shade, with some lighter streaks.

Looks like you found us out. Haute was sitting on my lap and the two of us typed that part out together.


Acadian: Thank you A. You are correct that Teresa's primary motivation to acquire money is indeed for Simplicia. But the funny thing about money, is that the more you have of it, the more things you find you need to spend it on, and so the more of it you need as well. Teresa is no exception. Plus as you noticed, when people who have never had money suddenly come into a lot of it, they tend to have a hard time handling it with discipline.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.o. Funny thing, until you mentioned it, I had not realized that about the hair! But you are spot on. Both have very distinctive manes, milk white and flame red.

Again, I have to thank you for giving me so much support and assistance in using Julian in the TF. I have had characters from other Fs making cameos, but none with such a large role that Julian has played.


Olen: Thank you Olen. I am still trying to figure out all the changes that will happen from the Elder Council running things. I suspect that most will not be immediate though. The most obvious things I see long-term are provinces beginning to secede (probably starting with Summerset Isle), and possibly civil war in Cyrodiil itself.


Winter Wolf: Thank you WW. haute gave me an overview of Julian a while ago, including her being stationed in Valenwood. It is pleasantly ironic that came out in both the JF and the TF at about the same time.


Next: The end of the chapter, where Teresa renews an old friendship.


* * *

Chapter 12.4- Aftermath

Teresa sighed and started walking, needing to escape from the temple and what remained of Martin Septim. She had not originally intended to, but seeing as she was already in the Temple District, she made the relatively short trip through the tunnel to the Waterfront.

For the first time in her life, she was pleasantly surprised to find the same old Waterfront she was used to when she emerged from the tunnel and back into the light of day. There were no bodies, no signs of fire, no buildings damaged, not even a stone turned over. The docks were filled with ships loading and unloading cargo as if it were any other day, while the usual assortment of vagabonds and ruffians prowled the streets beyond.

It was on the dock outside of the ship that comprised the Bloated Float Inn that Teresa saw a familiar dark-haired Bosmer. Teresa waved, and the leather-clad wood elf grinned in reply as she walked over to meet her. Moments later the two met with a hug, much to the amusement of the deckhands unloading the nearest ship, given their catcalls.

"Hello old friend." Teresa smiled faintly. "I am so glad you are alright!"

"Teresa, it's so good to see you again!" the other wood elf grinned, pausing only a moment to make a rude gesture at the deckhands. "I thought you would be frolicking in the woods? When did you get back to the city?"

"Yesterday," Teresa replied, disengaging herself from the grasp of her friend.

"You mean you were here when..." Methredhel's expression fell like a stone. "Where were you? Here on the Waterfront I hope?"

"I was in the Market District, with Simplicia," Teresa breathed.

"Oh no!" Methredhel gasped, her eyes going wide. "Thank Nocturnal you are alright! What about Simplicia? I saw the Temple District this morning and could not believe it! Is it like that everywhere?"

"She's fine," Teresa said as Methredhel let go of her. "It was the worst at the temple. The rest of the city got off lucky, if you can call it that."

"I see you have a new outfit too," Methredhel said, looking over the other wood elf's willowy frame. "What happened to the leather?"

"It got ruined." Teresa frowned. "Twice actually, and the suit I had yesterday was enchanted too. This is just something I found at Jensine's."

"It was that bad then?" Methredhel's expression darkened with concern.

Teresa nodded, looking around the Waterfront once more.

"Things seem to have been ok here though," she observed. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Oh no, we never saw a single Daedra," Methredhel explained. "Some people say they were afraid we would rob them! But I guess being so cut off from the rest of the city was a good thing for once"

Teresa nodded. The docks and the shantytown beyond the stone warehouses and taverns were the ugly little secret of the Imperial City. Tucked away out of sight beyond the city walls and only accessible via a wide tunnel through the rock of the island, it was where the dregs of society were cast off like garbage. The place she had called home for the last three years, Teresa thought.

"Do you need more arrows?" Methredhel asked, "I can spare some. My guess is that you aren't going to be able to find new ones to buy for a while."

"I do, and a new bow too! But I have to go," Teresa said, turning her head back in the direction of the city, "I left Simplicia all alone to work in the shop, and I have to get back to help before she kills me."

"Simplicia... work?" Methredhel's voice showed amusement as she cocked an eyebrow in surprise, "and you too?"

"Oh, we're helping clean up Jensine's place is all, it was wrecked." Teresa said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Come by later and see!"

"I will!" Methredhel grinned. Before the forester could step away, the other wood elf leaned in close to hug her one last time. "Don't be a stranger," she breathed in Teresa's ear. "We're in a gang remember?"

That brought a faint smile to Teresa's lips, and she clung to the slightly older woman. "How could I forget? You, me, and Adanrel. You keep forgetting to think of a name for us though. It's been ten years you know!"

"Well, it's you two who don't like the ones I come up with!" the other woman laughed as she disengaged herself from the forester.

Teresa stared into Methredhel's soft brown eyes. "We'll never be strangers," she said, the ghost of a smile still etched upon her pale features.

WooHoo! What a lovely episode. It was wonderful to see Teresa on the Waterfront.

I chuckled over this. I see you enjoy the same kind of humor as I; that which develops naturally from the situation at hand. Poor Waterfront! Even the Daedra won't bother with it! I absolutely loved that you brought that out.

This is such a simple paragraph, yet so poignantly beautiful. Another magnificent example of your skill.


Ooooh! I know. We simply must have a contest to name Methie's gang! I figure 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' is too long. Hmm, we shall have to think of a name for the Bosmerette Bunch. Perhaps some day, the Gray Foxes?

If you have ideas, send them my way! Soon I am going to start writing a chapter of Teresa, Methredhel, and Adanrel as children, and would like to throw out a few gang names that get rejected by the group. I see Methredhel proposing The Tamriel Terrors, and The Wraiths, which are guaranteed to get eyerolls from the other girls. I can see Adanrel coming up with 'girly' names like The Vixens, or Syrens.

I am never good at coming up with gang names, so I'll abstain!

Loved the depiction of the Waterfront being too lowly for the daedra to bother with! Though the comment "afraid we would rob them" was priceless!

Terrific reunion between two old friends. Though how much longer they will stay friends remains to be seen, considering how much Teresa has changed since the Emperor handed her the Amulet.

Is that not the idea?

The Tautology Club would be good because it's good Or maybe Bosmerz, the 'z' I'm sure is vital.

I enjoyed that part and am ionterested to see how you develop Methredhel, so far she's been there in the past but never actually taken much part. I think they might end up closer though given that she's a thief and so has some more money and drama than begging, but now Teresa is an adventurer I can see them getting on better.

I echo other's comments on the robbing daedra line.

The Quay QueenZ!!!

Waterfront Warriors!!!

GrrrrirlieZ!!!

Teen Steel!!! ( Free Pun included )

Lightning LadeeeZ!!! ( With yet another free Pun!!!)

Kick-boat Kidz!!!

And I'll try to think of even more...


Dang, it seems the autocensor has made my donkey into a boat.

The waterfront is my fav place in the IC. It is like being there but not being there.
A fast travel, a spin around, and bang you are sunning yourself on the beach...

My suggestion?

Methie's Minxes.

Nice to see Methredel and Teresa are still the best of friends even through dark times.

Oooh, gang names! I just love naming a bunch. Here's my suggestions:

Raven Robbers (he he)

Wild. . . Wenchez..?

Cut-Purse Cats ( )

Knife-Eared Knife Throwers. . ?

Dandy Bandytz ( cackles )


Anyways, this chapter is awesome. Simply awesome. I was always curious on how the other districts got by during the Assault on the City. .

Acadian: Thank you A. We will be seeing more Methredhel in the near future.


haute ecole rider: If you are not good at coming up with names that is perfect! After all, it is names no one likes that I am looking for!

Foxy made a comment on the other forum that "the daedra were probably afraid the Grey Fox would steal their horns!" which I always thought was priceless!

Indeed, Teresa and Methredhel's relationship is likely to be strained. Can you imagine if one day Methredhel becomes the Grey Fox and Teresa a Guild Commander for the FG?


Olen: Thank you Olen. I do not think the "Zs" will work for an ES setting however. Much too modern.


D.Foxy: But not a british boat I see...


Winter Wolf: The beach on the Waterfront is probably where everyone there dumps their garbage and defecates though. Well, the people who do not do that in the middle of the streets at least...


Remko: Thank you Rem.


ureniashtram: I rather like the Dandy Bandits, that might be one that Adanrel thinks of. Thank you Uren.


Next: Teresa has one last stop to make before returning to Jensine's.

* * *

Chapter 13.1 - The Promise

30th Midyear, 3E433

It was long into the afternoon by the time Teresa returned to the Market District. Simplicia was definitely going to kill her, she thought. Hopefully the old woman spent the time with Jensine instead of actually working any more around the shop. That way she would not be too mad…

Teresa's stomach growled as she walked by a hot food stand and inhaled the aroma of the fresh bread, cooked fish, meat, and garlic served there. She should stop and get something to take back with her, she thought, that might keep Simplicia happy.

Making her way over to the small, open-air stall she found an open spot between workmen at the long stone counter that ran its length and waited her turn to order. The counter top was lined with large holes filled with earthenware jars, each brimming with a different form of hot meat, fish, or mulled wine. Sprigs of garlic and other spices hung from the canvas awning that kept out the sun, and further back in the shop she could see loaves of fresh bread and wheels of cheese stacked on a table, with bottles of wine and ale sitting on the pavestones underneath.

She traded some of her recently earned coinage for bread, cheese dumplings, and a small bottle of wine. The smell of the warm fish tempted her, but she would have to eat that here from the shop's tableware rather than being able to carry it with her, so she left that for another time.

The meat did not interest her at all. Once upon a time it would have, but ever since she had begun her expeditions into the Great Forest the idea of eating animals had lost its appeal. As she looked at the roasted patties and strips of fresh meat she could not help thinking about how beautiful the deer were as they bounded through the underbrush. She could not even consider eating anything of such sublime loveliness, nor any other beast, not anymore.

Filling her hands with the meal, she continued her way down the street. If she had been planning on buying food to begin with she would have brought a small sack to put it all in. She knew that she was an easy mark for pickpockets with her hands full, but there was no helping it. She would just have to avoid the urchins that she knew were thieves and hope for the best, she thought.

She told herself that was why she took the long way back to Jensine's. At least until she came to the large, wide tower that bulged from the corner where the walls of the Market District, Elven Gardens, and Imperial Palace converged. She knew who would be in there, just as something inside of her knew that she needed to stop and see him.

Walking to the great oak door at the base of the tower, she struggled to rearrange the food in her hands so that she could grasp its handle. That is when it opened on its own accord and a legionary clad in full armor stepped into her. She had no time to move aside or otherwise react, one moment she was standing there, and the next she found herself flying backward, still clutching at dinner.

But she did not fall, for a pair of steel-clad hands shot around her and held her tight to an armored breast. Looking up, she found that the same legionary who had walked into her had also caught her up in his arms. She supposed some women might find it terribly romantic, but for her the urge to bolt was nearly overpowering.

Where was that steely nerve that had seen her through so many battles? Teresa wondered as the legionary let go of her and made an apology, eyeing the food and drink in her arms. She could face down goblins, necromancers, assassins, even Daedra, she thought. But as soon as a legionary touched her she was a frightened child all over again.

Being careful to avoid further collisions with the mountains of walking steel that filled the ground floor of the guardhouse, she made her way to a grey-haired Imperial sitting behind a table. He wore the armor of a legionary, but the helmet that sat upon the table in front of him bore a transverse crest, rather than the normal back to front ones of the regular legionaries. She recognized that as a centurion's helmet, and assumed that he must be in charge. Parchments were neatly stacked around his helmet, and an inkpot and writing quill sat near his hand, only reinforcing Teresa's thought the he must be in command of the tower.

"Yes citizen," the centurion's voice sounded tired as she approached, "what do you have to report?"

"Oh me…, nothing, to report that is," Teresa stammered. She was still not used to soldiers treating her like a regular person rather than street rat. "I was just looking for Volsinius. Is he here?"

The Imperial cocked an eyebrow, opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again as he narrowed his eyes upon her.

"Did you say Volsinius?"

"Yes," Teresa repeated, beginning to feel nervous, "he's a big guy, wears lots of armor, like I guess all of you do… Did I come to the wrong tower? I thought I saw him come in here before?"

"Yes, he's here," the centurion said with a look of amusement now forming in his eyes. "He never gets any visitors though. Anyway, he cannot see you now. He is still recovering from injuries sustained in the battle. Check back in a few weeks."

"Oh I know he's wounded!" Teresa exclaimed, "I was with him when he was hurt. His arm, and his head, and his stomach, and all the rest of him that is."

"Are you some kind of friend of his?" the centurion asked, eyes dancing with laughter now.

'Umm, yeah, you could say that," Teresa looked down at the floor and could feel her cheeks starting to blossom with warmth. Stop acting like an idiot! she told herself. It was not like they were going to arrest her and throw her in prison. Not again at least…

The Imperial stared her up and down and finally shook his head.

"He's two flights up, with the rest of the wounded," he pointed his finger at the stair that spiraled around the wall of the tower chamber.

"Thank you," Teresa replied, feeling more relieved than she would have been to survive a battle with a goblin. She turned and headed up the stairs, and could not help but to hear some of the legionaries muttering behind her.

"Vols has a girlfriend?"

"Red-head too, you know what they're like…"

"Too stringy though, looks like a vampire with that pasty skin."

She climbed to the next floor and the voices faded. She wished her embarrassment would wash away as quickly. By the next day the entire Fifth Legion would think that she was sleeping with Volsinius! she reeled. What would Methredhel say if she heard that? Or Simplicia?

She was beginning to regret her decision to visit the legionary as she briefly paused to look at the barracks that made up the second floor of the tower. She had never been inside one of the towers before, and her curiosity won out over her reflexive aversion to the Imperial Legion. Rows of bunks were regularly spaced throughout the circular room, with a chest at the foot of each. Racks containing weapons and armor lined the walls, and a large table and chairs stood in the center of the chamber.

Legionaries in various states of undress loitered throughout the room. Some were cleaning their armor and weapons, several were playing cards at the central table, and one was lying on his bunk reading a book. Most wore simple grey tunics with the Imperial dragon stenciled on them, while a few were still in their armor.

Teresa's eyes fell upon a Redguard who was in the process of stripping off a thick tunic like the one she had found Volsinius wore beneath his breastplate. He discarded the sweat-stained cloth as she looked on, and then followed it with his equally sweaty loincloth, leaving him completely naked. That was when he looked up at her and met her gaze with a smile.

"See anything you like?"

He clearly did not mind her gaze, Teresa realized as warmth spread through her cheeks, quite the opposite considering his grin. Her heart leapt into her throat. She was never going into another one of those towers again! she told herself insistently. Wasting no time, she scampered up the stairs to the third floor before some new revelation unfolded before her eyes.

She found it was much like the previous floor, except that instead of naked soldiers many of the beds were filled with injured men and women. Most of them seemed to have bandages wrapping at least part of their body. Some were even missing arms, and from what she could guess by the way their blankets fell, legs as well.

A few people were moving among them with food and drink or otherwise tending to their needs. Most of them appeared to be regular folk like herself, but one was a high elf wearing blue linen robes. After a moment she recognized him as Calindil, who ran a magic shop along Market Way.

As she watched, the Altmer wizard bent down near one of the most heavily bandaged men and laid a hand on the legionary's chest. He raised his other hand in the air and muttered something under his breath. A white light burst from his raised fist, and as he uncurled his fingers it traveled down his arm, through his body, and into the injured soldier. When the light was gone the high elf slumped over, his face drawn with exhaustion. For a moment Teresa thought he might have fallen unconscious from the strain, but then he stirred again and reached for a glass of wine with a shaking hand.

She recognized the healing magic. It was much the same as the simple healing spell which she had learned when she was younger, except his worked on other people. She knew that healing others was a much higher order of magic, the kind of thing only people who had gone to the Arcane University or had temple training could do. From what she had been told, it was difficult for even a trained magician to use because of how wearing it was. Now she could see why he ran a magic shop.

Just as priceless now as it was the first time I read it! I loved this part! Especially since he's a Redguard!

Then this: Not quite as smooth as Julian! Of course, she's used to this sort of stuff - ho hum!

And I loved Teresa's consideration of Calindil's skills: It gives him more depth than a cardboard cutout.

I loved this entire segment the first time, and I love it even more now. Though it is essentially unchanged from the way I remember it (except maybe a tweak here or there), it still stands up well to the overall improvement in your re-write of the TF.

Good part, I shan't requote what haute has already though I will say the naked redguard was an inspired bit of writing. It reveals quite a lot about Teresa and gives the legionaries a bit more depth. You also showed her dislike of being in a guard tower nicely, I quiter agree with her.


Nicely done in her handling of asking where he was, she didn't mean anything but certainly appeared as if she did.


This was a good observation, it's odd how some things are just more unpleasant than they should be.

Much to love here!

Your rich detail of the food stand, right down to stowing bottles on the cool stones was great. Yum, cheese dumplings! More great 'IC' atmosphere from Teresa's perspective, as she wound through the city trying to balance her chow.

Her visit to the watch tower was so very well done.
'Being careful to avoid further collisions with the mountains of walking steel that filled the ground floor of the guardhouse, '
It's tough being a small elf, no?
Why is everything so hard? Teresa just wanted to visit Vols, and look at all the crap she got for it? Although we were in on Teresa's thoughts, you really gave us a good example of 'show vs tell' here. Through the words and actions of those in the guard house, Teresa's discomfort was so vividly brought home to us.

Finally, you see healing magic as 'different' from regular magic. Much more of an emotional and spiritual endeavor than casting a fireball. Like you, I treat healing as a very special and draining commitment. That is one aspect where TF and BF share some common ground.

As Rider said, this 'felt' quite similar to the wonderful feeling I got when I read your original version of the episode. Oooh, I hope Teresa grits it out long enough to see Vols!

Chapter 12.3 – Aftermath

My favorite part of this exceptional segment was the revelation that Teresa and Julian were the only ones to hear Martin’s voice because they had both handled the Amulet of Kings. That was brilliant! I also love the way you portray Julian in your story. Because Old Habits is told in first person, and because Julian herself is plagued by an overabundance of modesty and self-recrimination, we never get to see her the way that most of Tamriel probably sees her, as the larger-than-life Hero of Kvatch.

Chapter 12.4 – Aftermath

How about the doorMATs or the placeMATs (Meth, Ad, & Ter)?

The Waterfront Trio?

The Suicide Elves?

Armand’s Angels?

The Shack Sisters?

Methie and the Faint Smiles?

(I may be worse than haute at this!)

Chapter 13.1 – The Promise

Everything that I would have pointed out has been ably addressed already. Like Acadian I loved your delineation of healing magic as being different from other kinds of magic. And your description of the food stand read as if it were lifted right from the annals of history. I also like how Teresa identified herself as a friend of Vols without having to think about it first. Times sure have changed for her.

This was one of my favourite chapters over at Beth. And it still rocks, no doubt about it!

You might want to hold back on the description of the food though, I can hear Acadian's stomach rumble all the way across the Pacific.


This part is pure magic! I really, really, really, would love to see the reaction of Simplicia. That would be a chapter worth reading. Lol.


I thought of D.Foxy as soon as I read this. Brilliant!
And to think that Australia now has a red-head Prime Minister.
Oh dear, we are on the eve of destruction.....

haute ecole rider: You mean because he is a blackguard right?

Thank you h.e.o. That segment was one of the most fun ones I have ever written. Whenever I have the chance to highlight Teresa's social awkwardness, it usually results in something hilarious.


Olen: Thank you Olen. In spite of Teresa's newly won confidence, it all just vanishes when confronted by legionaries. That is something she still has to deal with, along with her changing feelings toward them.


Acadian: Thank you Acadian. The IC food stand sounds much better than Maulhand's soup!


Destri Melarg: Thank you Dest. I really wanted to get Martin's closing soliloquy into the story. At first I was tempted to have everyone hear it, but that seemed a bit much. I already knew I wanted to put some emphasis on the bond that Teresa and Julian share due to carrying the Amulet of Kings. So that seemed like the perfect vehicle.

The food stand was taken straight from the annals of history! Both in the stand itself and the food they served, it is straight from what has been discovered at Pompeii and other Roman sites.


Winter Wolf: So Foxy is a redhead too? I will keep that in mind for when I make him a courtesan...

Teresa is going to have a hard enough time explaining Nerussa to Simplicia (and dare I say Tadrose Helas?). I think her brain would explode if Simplicia got the impression that her and Vols were an item!


Next: Teresa confronts her childhood demon, and learns a surprising secret.


* * *

Chapter 13.2 - The Promise

Teresa walked deeper into the room and scanned the beds for Volsinius. It did not occur to her until then that she really did not know what he looked like, not very well at least. To her he had always been just a bigger mountain of steel than most of the other legionaries, with blue glaciers for eyes and a voice like a snarling lion. The only time she had seen him without his helmet was during the battle yesterday, and then his face had been burned and covered in soot.

None of the men looked very big lying in beds and covered in bandages, she thought, let alone without all the iron-mongery she was used to seeing legionaries in. She walked among the beds and looked for someone with the same kind of wounds that she remembered Volsinius had, and finally came upon the right man.

The top of his head and left side of his face were covered in bandages, as was his left arm, which she saw was laid out straight between two long wooden splints that were firmly attached from wrist to elbow. His body was covered in a simple grey blanket from his midsection down, and Teresa wondered if his stomach was bandaged underneath it. He wore the same dragon-emblazoned tunic that the men on the lower floor had, and did not stir as Teresa walked up.

She wondered if he were asleep, and moved around the bed to the right side of his body, where his face was not bandaged. His blue eye popped open then and stared at her intently.

"No more of the damned laudanum," his words slurred as he raised his arm to wave her away. "Damn stuff makes me see things, I'd rather feel the pain."

"Oh see what Vols?" Teresa asked with a faint smile on her lips, stepping closer and setting the food and wine she had brought onto a small table between his bed and the next one.

"Is that really you Red?" His now hairless eyebrow furrowed as he turned his head to watch what she was doing. "Teresa I mean? Damn women and hair, how do the gods keep them all straight?"

Teresa was not sure what he meant, but she knew that if they were giving him laudanum he was probably seeing all sorts of things. Opium was something that Simplicia had warned her about since she was a child, along with skooma, and she had never touched either. However, both were certainly popular with the denizens of the Waterfront, so she had seen up close what they did to people.

She wondered how bad the burns were under those bandages on his face, for them to be giving him such a strong drug. They must be awful, she thought, given what she remembered from the previous day. She hid an empathetic wince by turning to pick up a stool. Placing it beside his bed, she sat down and looked back at him once her face was composed again.

"I thought you might be hungry, so I brought some dinner," she said, reaching for the wine and uncorking it, "I hope you like cheap wine and cheese dumplings."

Teresa took a sip of the wine and nearly winced again. It really was cheap, she thought. After what she had drunk at the priory in Weynon and Nerussa's inn, it was just awful. But she was thirsty and it was better than nothing. Still, she doubted that Volsinius would be so picky, and she offered the bottle to him.

The wounded soldier reached for the bottle and missed, eliciting another faint smile of amusement from Teresa. He really was out of his head, she thought as she set the bottle down and stood back up.

"Here, let me help you sit up," she said, and leaned across the bed to put her hands under his arms. Taking a solid grip she pulled up, and nothing happened. She tried again with a grunt of effort, and once more his massive body did not budge an inch. How much did he weigh? she wondered in amazement. She had thought that without his armor she would at least be able to pull him up.

"Argh, are you trying to smother me woman!" he cried out from underneath her. Looking down, Teresa saw that her linen-clad breasts were nearly pressing down against his face. She let go and stepped back while he pushed himself up into a sitting position with his good arm. An arm she saw was black and blue from bruises when he reached for the wine bottle again.

He raised the bottle to his lips, tilted his head back, and commenced to gulp it down as if it were water. Teresa stared in amazement. He was practically breathing the alcohol in! When he finally set the bottle down and let loose an ear-shattering belch she found it was nearly empty.

"Ah that hits the spot," he breathed in satisfaction, "kind of weak though. You didn't bring anything stronger did you?"

"You nearly drank it all!" Teresa fumed as she snatched the bottle away and set it out of his reach. She was regretting coming here more and more by the moment...

"Well you should have brought a bigger bottle wench!" he cried in exasperation. "A man gets thirsty, especially after spending all day cooped up in this dungeon!"

"I am not your wench you s'wit!" something snapped in Teresa then, and all of the tension that had been building within her throughout the day finally burst loose in a torrent. Before she knew it, she jabbed her finger into the wounded man's chest with all the force her slender arm could muster. "And if you call me that again you'll get that bottle upside your head! Why in Nocturnal's name did I ever come here?"

"Gah, enough, enough!" Volsinius cried, raising his one good arm to try to fend her off, "What did you come here for anyway?"

"I came here to say thank you dammit!" Teresa shouted, "I was trying to be nice because you saved my life! Now I wish I let you die on the floor instead of making you that last healing potion!"

"You made me a healing potion?" he asked, his voice suddenly quiet. His one eye looked up at her with a completely different light in it. Just what it was, Teresa had no idea, she only knew it was something she had never seen in him before. "I thought you used them all on Jensine?"

"I did use them all on her," Teresa breathed softly, feeling the anger flowing out of her as quickly as it had erupted. She sat back down on the stool, and was keenly aware of how everyone else in the room was staring at both of them. "I got the ingredients out of my pack when you were unconscious and made another one for you. You were lucky, I only had enough lavender for that one potion."

"You did that for me?" he said, genuine surprise in his face. "I thought you hated me, and the legion?"

"I don't hate you," Teresa looked down from his gaze. She could take the steely hard glare that she was so accustomed to, but not this new thing she saw in his eye.

"I came to thank you for what you did, for me and the others," Teresa continued, raising her head and setting one hand over his. "You stepped in front of everything that came through that door to protect the rest of us. I saw what it cost you then, and I can see it again now. What all of you go through. No one has ever done that for me before, and I never thought anyone ever would."

She was not sure what she saw in him now. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He swallowed hard and licked his lips. Finally he closed his eye, and gently moved his hand over hers and squeezed it so softly that Teresa was not sure if she really felt it.

Then a growl from Teresa's stomach broke the moment, and the next thing she heard was Volsinius laughing. She managed the ghost of a smile herself, and reached for one of the dumplings. They ate in silence. Teresa was not sure what to say, and she could see that the legionary did not either. When they were finished she made sure she had a drink from the bottle before she gave it to him to finish.

"You're just like her you know," he said as he plunked the empty bottle down on the table, "a real fireball!"

"Who?" Teresa wondered.

"Simplicia," he said, "back in the old days, when she was a working girl over at the Peony Pavilion. Won't find it no more though, 'cause it burned down years ago. Oh she was something else back then!"

Teresa almost spat out her wine. Simplicia had been a prostitute! The old woman had never said anything about it to her. Then again, Teresa thought, it was not exactly the kind of thing you mentioned in passing. Still, she would have expected to have at least heard about it by now.

"I was just a young kid back then, fresh from Skyrim and still wet behind the ears from the snow," Volsinius went on starry-eyed as he gazed into the past, seemingly oblivious to Teresa's amazement. "I had no idea women could be like her. She could curl your toes! Shame about what happened to her..."

"What?" Teresa asked, wondering if he was really talking about the same Simplicia who had been her surrogate mother for her entire life.

"You don' know?" he said, staring at her in surprise. After Teresa shook her head, his voice regained the hard edge that she was so used to. "Some Dunmer piece of dreck got ahold of her and cut her up bad. Cut out her livelihood, if you take my meaning. Like I said, I was just a kid back then, I never imagined someone could do a thing like that. It made me sick. If it wasn't for a priest of Mara in the next building she'd have bled out."

Teresa felt sick now too. No wonder Simplicia did not want to talk about it, she thought. She could not even imagine what that must be like. As bad as she had felt for those poor men and women laying maimed in the Temple District and here in the watchtower, it was nothing compared to the deep abyss that she felt open in her heart at the thought of Simplicia being so horribly tortured.

"The fetcher did it to two other women too, before I finally caught up with him," Volsinius growled, once more the lion of the street she was so accustomed to.

"What happened to him?" Teresa asked, feeling a hot, angry sensation beginning to grow within that empty space inside of her.

"I gave him what he had coming," the legionary spat, his eye as cold as Skyrim. "I cut him up one piece at time and fed him to the damn slaughterfish in the lake. He didn't die 'till I was halfway through."

Teresa looked down, the anger in her dying as quickly as it had arisen. So that was how Volsinius had lost his humanity, she thought, and how Simplicia had lost her way. Part of her wanted to cry, but she could not find the tears. She just felt numb.

"I never told anyone that, not even her," Volsinius explained softly, his eye losing that steel it had briefly held, "must be the damn poppy juice they're giving me... They'd kick me out of the legion if anyone could prove it, probably put me in a cell too. I guess you should know though, if anyone. I know you love her like she was your real mom. Such a damn shame what happened to her..."

Teresa sat in silence, trying to digest everything he had said. Then the legionary's voice broke her from her thoughts. "You better run along now girl," he said, "before I start gettin' all teary-eyed over the old days. People will start thinkin' you're my girlfriend."

"Oh they think that already!" Teresa exclaimed, feeling a smile creep to the corners of her lips. That made the legionary squirm in his bed, which she only found to be more entertaining. But she could not retain her amusement for long, not when she looked down at the bandages that covered most of his head and thought of the charred flesh underneath.

"Thank you, for everything," she rose and took his hand in both of hers, "I'll never forget."

As beautiful as it was during your first telling, my friend!


Between these two passages in close proximity, how masterfully you capture a young girl's turbulent emotions. Who can fathom such things?


Oh my. If you intended for this to elicit a powerful emotional reaction from this old paladin, you certainly succeeded. Simply beautiful.

The history of Vols and Simplica is so very rich. This is the type of detail that truly brings the characters of TF to life.

Ahah, so I see I our wood elf allowing herself a touch of well-earned satisfaction seeing Vols squirm over the rumor that Teresa is his guurrlfriend.

You have struck a beautifully magical balance in this fabulous episode. Well done!

I loved this chapter the first time around, and I still find it as powerful and emotional now as I did then.

It marks a turning point in the relationship between Teresa and Vols, as well as that between T and Simplicia. These little details explain so much about the character of Vols and Simplicia, and reveal even more about Teresa as she comes to terms with a new view of the Legion.

Wonderful!

And I see Acadian has ninja'd me!

Wow... that last part changes things and fills a lot of backstory, and leaves a mystery which I hadn't yet considered - who was Teresa's mum and what happened to her (I don't think this has appeared in the story yet has it?). I'm certainly intregued as to whee the relationships go from here.


Nice little detail there, and a good device for loosening his tounge.

And this Red person, I wonder who she is...

nit:
His body was covered in a simple grey blanket from his midsection down, and Teresa wonder if his stomach was bandaged underneath it. -- wondered?

Ooh, nice chapter here! Got's to agree with Olen here. The backstory between Simplicia and Vols was simply RICH!

Peony Pavillion! Ha!

Hmmn.. Frosty Prosts being cut up by an enigmatic . . . maniac? What, is that TES' version of. . . (spooky sounds kicks in)

Jack. . . Be nimble! (cackles)

I was just messing with you, although thinking about that Dunmer brings Jack. . The Ripper in mind.

Awesome chapter, no doubt about it. One second you had the reader smile with the reaction of Teresa when Vols was upsetting her, the next moment you have us feel gutted inside as we find out the history of Simplicia. Your characters come alive from the screen with intense, heart-felt emotion.

Brilliant, Rosa, just brilliant.

Yes...this is the part I remember well, and I still chuckle at the embarassment of Teresa as the men think she's Vols girlfriend!!!

I find it interesting that Cyrodiil’s healers would resort to the use of laudanum in their administrations of the wounded. It seems that in a world in which healing magic is prevalent such artificial pain-killers would be redundant. I suppose that the Legion has better things for their battlemages to do than sit around casting convalescence spells all day long.

Personally, I think that this ‘Red’ that Vols mentioned is (or was) Simplicia back in the old days when she could do things that the young Vols didn’t know that women could do. The actions that he takes on her behalf are born out of a passion for revenge, not the dispassionate disposition of duty (how’s that for alliteration?). I also think that Teresa has it wrong. Vols may still torture himself for the event, but I think in exacting retribution against the Dunmer who mutilated Simplicia and who knows how many others Vols was simply exercising his humanity, not losing it.

Acadian: Thank you Vols. I did intend for that reaction.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.o. You have skewered the importance of this scene entirely. One thing you left out is that it is a swift kick in the rear for Vols as well (although that could fall under the heading of Teresa and Vol's relationship). It is the first time he has been able to show any form of tender emotion since Simplicia was maimed (granted, the laudanum helped to be certain).


Olen: I am glad you caught how I used the laudanum. Aside from the obvious medical reasons, I did purposely dwell on its influence to loosen Vol's tongue.

Red is Teresa! She has red hair after all. Perhaps I should go back and put something in to make that a little more clear...

And thank you for finding Teresa's missing "-ed". It probably got scandalized by that naked Redguard!


ureniashtram: Thank you uren. I got the name Peony Pavilion from House of Flying Daggers, where it was a fancy brothel.


Winter Wolf: Thank you Wolf. Gutted is what I was going for.


D.Foxy: Thank you Fox. That segment was a lot of fun to write. All the ones that highlight Teresa's awkwardness are.


Destri Melarg: Well, remember that all the battlemages are at Bruma, along with most of the army. The people caring for the wounded are civilians, such as Calindil. Given the huge number of wounded, and few number of healers, there just are not enough to go around. Teresa said just that a few segments ago when she and Simplicia were talking about Jensine.

I also went out of my way the previous chapter to establish that healing other people was not a simple task, as we saw it wear out Calindil, and also "heard" Teresa's ruminations on how she knew it was a higher order of magic than she was capable of herself. So under the circumstances I thought it was reasonable that the hordes of wounded would be doped up and tended to mundanely until the few healers could make their way through them all.

I think you are giving Vols much more credit than he deserves. After Simplicia was maimed, he could have taken a page from the book of Leo Buscaglia, told Simplicia that he loved her no matter what, wanted to be with her vagina or not, and have been just plain emotionally supportive. Instead he went the Frank Castle route, and never allowed himself to display any tender emotion for another again. He never even told Simplicia that he killed the man who maimed her. His actions were all about him, and his own feelings of frustration and powerlessness at not being able to protect the woman he loves (a common issue with men whose spouses/girlfriends are raped). It wasn't murdering the Dunmer that destroyed his humanity, it was his inability to face his own emotions that did, and his flight into a life of casual violence that punished him as much as it did the criminals he preyed upon.

Imagine how differently things would have played out if Vols had taken Dr. Leo's advice, or at least Titus Pullo's. He could have brought Simplicia the still-beating heart of her enemy, told her that he loved her, and took care of her. Imagine Teresa being adopted by that loving couple. The TF is almost like an Elseworlds version of history gone terribly wrong.

Teresa's own courage in honestly displaying her emotions to Vols is that swift kick in the british boat that I mentioned to h.e.o. In a way she is almost shaming him into facing his own feelings. If she can do it, how come he can't? She is probably the first person to ever really reach out to him since what happened to Simplicia. To be certain she is the only one he has been incapable of brushing off. She is in the unique position of being the right person, in the right place, at the right time to save Vols from himself.


All: I found a new mod for Teresa's goggles. It not only looks cooler, but has a version that she can wear pushed back on her forehead. It is just for looks, so I integrated its mesh and texture into the mod I am currently uses that gives night eye with the goggles. Look at Teresa in her new specs

Next: Teresa finally returns to Jensine's shop, where she makes a promise that will guide her every future action.


* * *

Chapter 13.3 - The Promise

The sun was low on the horizon when Teresa returned to Jensine's. Gods! she had spent the entire afternoon away from the shop. Simplicia was definitely going to kill her, she thought. At least she had stopped again to buy more food and wine as a peace offering, that might keep the old woman from becoming too angry for leaving her to do all the work herself.

"Where have you been all day!" Here it comes, Teresa thought as she entered through the open doorway and saw the old Imperial rising from the floor at the back of the shop.

"I brought you something to eat." Teresa bit her lip, and set down the bread and sausage she had bought onto a plate near the stairway.

"You left me here to do everything and that is all you have to say!" Simplicia railed, wagging her finger at the young wood elf.

"I'm sorry." Teresa suddenly felt like she was ten years old again. "I went to the Waterfront to see if Methredhel was alright, and we ate." She was not about to mention Volsinius...

"And what about your business proposition?" Simplicia eyed her as she plodded across the floor.

"They wanted me to get some statues for them," Teresa said, "but I told them no."

"Teresa, you were never any good at lying," the old woman sighed as she sat on the stair and reached for the food the wood elf had brought. "I wish you would be more careful, I know you kids think that nothing is ever going to happen to you, but it does."

"I know you worry…" Teresa mumbled as she sat beside the old woman. "I am careful though. I never fight a battle I cannot win, or run away from."

Simplicia shook her head, but said nothing as her mouth was full. They sat there in silence while she ate, and when she had finished Teresa went to the back of the shop to find a cup and poured her some of the wine she had just bought.

"Ever since you came back from the prison, you've been so wild…" the old woman breathed quietly as she took the cup, more of a lament than a rebuke.

"I saw the new Emperor today, or what was left of him." Teresa tried to change the subject as she sat down beside Simplica once more.

"So it's true what they say?" Simplicia asked in surprise.

"It's true, and more," Teresa nodded, "he became Akatosh and sacrificed himself to save all of us. Then he turned to stone. Into a great stone dragon. I've never seen anything like it."

"Maybe I'll go tomorrow and see it," Simplicia said with a wry smile, "and you can stay here and watch the shop."

Teresa would have smiled, but thinking of the two Emperors cast such a dark shroud over her heart that she could not even manage the faint smile she reserved for everyone but Simplicia.

"He's not the first Emperor I saw dead," Teresa admitted. "I was there when his father died. I was standing right beside him."

"What!" Simplicia nearly spat her wine across the floor.

Teresa recounted the entire story of what had occurred beneath the prison that night. She had told Simplicia some of it before, but had left out any mention of the Emperor, his heir, and the Amulet of Kings out of fear of endangering Martin. Until now she had not told a soul because of that, but there seemed little reason to keep her silence anymore.

"That is amazing!" Simplicia exclaimed when Teresa had finished, placing her arm around the wood elf and drawing her close, "my little girl met the Emperor himself, it's no wonder you are so different now, after everything you have been through."

"I'll never forget him," Teresa said as she laid her head on the old woman's shoulder, "he believed in me. He showed me that I could be a better person, that I didn't have to be afraid anymore."

She sat there for a long time, wishing the Emperor was still alive, that his son Martin was still alive, that so many things in life had turned out differently. That made her thoughts turn to what Volsinius had told her, and she bit her lip trying to decide if she should say anything about it.

"I know about what happened to you, when you were working at the Peony Pavilion," she finally blurted out. Telling just one other person about what had happened with the Emperor and the Amulet of Kings felt like a great weight being lifted from her shoulders, she thought. She should not force Simplicia to continue living with her own ordeal in silence. She deserved better.

"Who told you that!" Simplicia snapped, pulling away from Teresa.

"It doesn't matter who," Teresa breathed, looking deeply in the old woman's eyes. "I just wish I had known sooner. You are the only family I'll ever have."

"That was a long time ago." Simplicia slumped her shoulders and turned her head down. "I was a different person then, life was different then."

They sat there in silence, and Teresa wondered if she should have said nothing after all as she stared into her lap. By Nocturnal, could she do nothing right? she wondered. Then the old Imperial cleared her throat and began to speak again.

"I used to dream that someday I would get out of the skin trade. That I would meet someone special, and we would settle down in a little house in the country with a garden and have children. I know it's a stupid dream, and it wasn't ever going to happen anyway. But that's all gone now, all because of that Dunmer fetcher. What really hurts most is that he got away with it too…"

"No he didn't." Teresa said softly. "He's dead."

"Teresa, you didn't…" Simplicia looked up into her eyes with a mixture of shock and dread.

"No, it was a long time ago," the wood elf said, "I probably wasn't even alive then."

Teresa put her arms around the old woman and held her tight as she began to sob. Cradling Simplicia's head on her shoulder, she gently rocked the old woman back and forth and whispered softly into her ear that it was ok, just as Simplicia had done herself on countless occasions when she was a child. When at last her tears subsided, Simplicia drew back and sat up once more. Teresa left one arm around her waist, and with the other took Simplicia's hand within her own.

"Afterward, they let me keep working at the Peony," Simplicia said, her voice harsh and cracking from emotion, "doing laundry, cleaning up, that sort of thing. I didn't even want to be alive back then, and being around the other women just made it worse."

"So I got into skooma. It made me forget, for a while at least. I lost even that job because all I wanted to do was drink it. I sold everything I had to get more, until finally I had nothing left. I would have sold myself, but no one wants a woman who is not even a woman anymore. Then I was out on the streets with nothing."

Teresa said nothing. She just held Simplicia and let her talk. She wondered how long it had been since the old woman had been able to share the terrible events of her life with another person, if ever at all.

"Eventually I stole a knife and went back into an alley to cut my wrists," Simplicia continued, "but then something happened that changed everything, that changed my entire life."

Teresa gave her a questioning look, but still did not speak. She was not even sure that she could talk at all with the lump that had formed in her throat.

"I heard a baby crying," Simplicia explained, "it was this pale little elf wrapped up in a velvet blanket. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I wondered what was going to happen to that poor little thing, all alone in the world?"

"That is when I knew that I still had something to live for," Simplicia said as she looked deeply into Teresa's eyes. "To this day I bless Mara for giving you to me. You saved my life little girl."

Teresa did begin to cry then, and held Simplicia close. She had always known that life had been hard for the old woman, but she had no idea how awful. In that moment she thanked Mara herself for drawing them both together.

"I am going to make your dream come true," Teresa said through her tears, "I promise."

Wonderful follow-up to Teresa's conversation with Vols in the previous segment.

It is a big load to dump off one's shoulders, to be able to tell someone about that meeting with the Emperor and how it affected Teresa. It is only fitting that she should return the favor and lighten Simplicia's shoulders as well.

Well you've certaily kept with filling in backgrounds, and you've set up another sub-plot I think. Good followup both in terms of continuing what was started with her speaking with vols and in having it draw out more backstory.

It appears, though I could be wrong, that we are at, or fast approching, another point of change in the action and what Teresa is doing.

Which all perfectly illustrates the point that I was making . . . his humanity should not be formed of the idealized version of what he should have done, but of the actual reality of what he did do. What he did was perfectly in keeping with how you drew him as a character. I would not expect the young Vols (or even the older Vols) to be able to extend himself emotionally to such an extent. He would be more comfortable exacting retribution for his own sake and telling himself that he did it for Simplicia, then convincing himself that she never needs to know. I wasn’t trying to give Vols undue credit. In many ways he is a Neanderthal, but he is a well drawn Neanderthal. Any time he acts in such vivid accord with his basic nature I consider that ‘exercising his humanity’, not 'losing it'.

Now, on to the current chapter:

I agree with haute and Olen, this was an excellent follow up to the last chapter. I think that, understandably, Simplicia was just as cut off from her own emotions as Vols. The revelation that she was in that alley to kill herself when she heard the baby crying lends even more depth to the relationship between the two women.

This is just an observation, but it seems that if Teresa is to be given the charge of making Vols face his own emotions then she has just robbed him by telling Simplicia what she knows. I know that, technically, she didn’t betray a confidence but, spiritually, she did.

Another very powerfully emotional episode!

I love Vols, and what he did. I also love Teresa, and the choices she made in sharing things with Simplicia. I felt like I was completely inside Teresa's head, and her emotional logic/rationale made perfect sense to me. I could feel her turmoil as she bit her lower lip and arrived at decisions that were completely Teresa.

Yes! That is our little pale elf!

Yes, indeed. Thanking Mara is a good thing. The way baby Teresa saved Simplica from herself is such a beautiful piece of TF.

And finally, ah yes. The promise. I have no doubt Teresa will keep the promise to her precious Simplica.

One thing that struck me with this episode, is that it captured me to the point that the words almost disappeared, leaving behind only the drama you intended.

I said the words almost disappeared because one tiny segment of your wording did cause me pause:

Did you intend 'rising from floor' instead of 'rising from the floor'?