I really enjoyed that little peek into Teresa's past. I have been toying with the idea adressing Rales' youth too and after having read your excellent way of capturing it, the idea became even stronger.

D.Foxy: I did not think you were insecure about your masculinity. Perhaps you should change you screen name to something more manly then, such as D.Boar, or D.Bull?


hazmick: Thank you haz. One of my goals for this chapter was to bring Methredhel more to life, as well as better define her relationship with Teresa.


Olen: Thank you Olen. Dreth will indeed be rearing his ugly head again in the future, although that is quite a few chapters away.


treydog: Thank you trey. Teresa and Methredhel do indeed have their problems with growing apart in their relationship, but as you noted, both have too much invested in it to let it fall by the wayside.


Acadian: Thank you paladin. I suspect Methredhel will find her Fox spirit quite helpful in her quest to join a guild led by another notable Fox...


Remko: Thank you Remko. The sneak peek into Zerina's past certainly did a lot for her. I think doing the same for Rales would be a wonderful idea!


All: No update this time. I am still working on the next chapter, and have been rethinking some of the plot. I also just got Fallout 3 in the mail, and would like to see what that is like. So it will probably be a little while before we see more Teresa.

Oh Noes! Not FO3! It will swallow your time and melt your mind-- and leave us without our (necessary) allotment of a stringy Bosmer! Actually, I think you will find it is quite interesting and enjoyable. And playing other games often helps with developing ideas for stories that seem completely unrelated.

ETA- Which reminds me- we ought to try to hijack- um, persuade Old_Andy to come over here.

So, Rosa got FO3 in the male, and wants to see what it's like???

I think you will like the male, Rosa...

*reads Rosa's post again*

GAAAH! Not only do I need to check my pants, I need to check my eyes as well!!

Strangely there's nothing wrong with my eyes when a sweet sixteen comes into view...

I finally get a block of time to become current with the TF. I am going to enjoy this!

Chapter 15.4 - Old Friends, Not Forgotten

Even at this early age their roles within this gang of theirs are well-defined. Teresa seems like the most thoughtful and mature of the three, with a smart child’s wisdom in dealing with adults. That wisdom must have been gained through the course of painful experience. I am so glad that you have decided to go back and present Teresa’s early years on the waterfront.

And on the subject of The Magnificent Seven (the TV series): Every once in a while Starz Westerns has a marathon of eight to ten episodes from the series, and I watch them every time.

Chapter 15.5 – Old Friends, Not Forgotten

Again Teresa encounters in her past a character with whom she will have dealings in the present. The encounter with Pappy (though his nickname may well have been something else then) was so brief that one can forgive Teresa for not recognizing him when they meet in Bravil.

I like the way you changed the ‘mohawk’ to the ‘cliff racer’ in the TF. What a perfect name for that particular hair cut. Am I safe in assuming that the wearer of it was a younger Modryn Oreyn?

The chase through the Arena district was a harrowing experience for both Teresa and this reader. I am so glad the Teresa’s spirit guide showed when it did, though she was understandably too busy to notice. The one good thing about reading several chapters in a row like this is that I don’t have to be left hanging from that cliff.

Onward!

Chapter 15.6 – Old Friends, Not Forgotten


Some things appear to be universal. Would that the reverse were true!


Borrowing from history again, I see. I have always been of two minds on the naval battles staged within the confines of the Colosseum. On the one hand they must have been quite dangerous, given the enclosed space, and therefore more entertaining for the crowd. On the other hand they must have been brief, for given the enclosed space there aren’t many options for engagement that don’t endanger the crowd that they are there to entertain. I don’t even think that the ships could attain a decent enough ramming speed.

Methredhel’s plan was brilliant. Why do I get hints of The Artful Dodger in the make-up of her character? The fact that the man stolen from turns out to be a future Master Wizard explains the lack of a conventional weapon.

Dreth certainly picked the wrong Bosmer to terrorize!

Chapter 15.7 – Old Friends, Not Forgotten

Another cameo, this one by the Grey Prince himself! Given the setting of these last few chapters, I suppose I should have seen his appearance coming. What a happy coincidence that this marks his first match. You will have to pardon me if it takes a moment to remove the stain placed upon his name from reading Maxical’s story.

Okay, stain removed.

Now we see the extent of the crime that caused Dreth to waste away in the Imperial dungeon. He probably could have talked his way into a fine and a fortnight in a cell for stealing from a noble. Stabbing an Arena Guard, I expect, is frowned upon.

The description of Cornelia’s emotional state during the fray is telling as well. I wonder if her predatory excitement in the face of danger eventually scared Raminus off.

This really was a wonderful way to seal the friendship between Teresa and The Artful Methredhel. And the ending where Raminus teaches her Flare and Heal.

Fantastic!!

Chapter 15.8 – Old Friends, Not Forgotten

Wow. All this time Teresa was looking up to Methredhel and she was looking up to Teresa. I can’t think of a more effective description of the nature of friendship. Now it is Teresa’s turn to be a mentor as she guides Methredhel through communion with her spirit guide.

Unlike our friends, hazmick and trey, I had the exact opposite reaction to the news of Dreth’s release. He has spent a decade (or more) wasting away in a cell. The little Bosmer girl he remembers is a forester now who has faced down wild animals, necromancers and the hordes of Oblivion itself with her bow. Not to mention the fact that she is better than most apprentice mages and has a true talent for alchemy and the brewing of poisons.

The poor man doesn’t stand a chance!

treydog: No fear of leaving Teresa behind for the Wasteland. I have not played her as a character in a year anyway, and about 99% of what you see in the fiction never happened in the game. My writing really has nothing to do with what I might be playing.


D.Foxy: I tried the male. That is why I'm a lesbian!


Destri Melarg: I guess it is a little late to say welcome back. That was indeed Oreyn. I was originally going to call his haircut a mohawk, but since there were never any mohawks (Native Americans that is) in ES, I did not see how I could use the name. Since I only see Dunmer with that hair, I scrambled for something Morrowind-specific.

Raminus is still married to Cornelia. Remember he mentioned her at the Battle of Bruma when talking to Morning-Star. Besides, like other noble marriages, it had nothing to do with love. It is all about politics and breeding.

And you are probably quite right about Dreth. A decade in prison will certainly have taken its toll on him physically. On the other hand, who said it would be Teresa he becomes mixed with?


Next: Teresa returns at last with a new chapter. When we last saw her she was renewing her friendship with Methredhel and reminiscing on the past. Next we see her journeying east from the City Isle to a place she has visited before.

* * *

Chapter 16.1 - The Temple

19th -26th Sun's Height, 3E433

Teresa paused at the edge of the trees and strung her bow. With the weapon ready, she peered into the sunlit clearing before her. The ground rose steadily, covered with heather and short, wild grass. Scattered about the rise were tumbled down blocks of white stone, as if thoughtlessly cast aside by giants. Beyond the forest closed in once more, and steadily rose into the snow-capped peaks of the Jerall Mountains.

Bringing her gaze back to the hill, she saw that in many places only a single wall remained to tell the tale of what had been a building. To Teresa's left, the trail of broken flagstones of a road climbed the western slope of the hill, ending at its peak. Halfway up the hill a stone archway whose peak was shattered spread across it, and the forester wondered if it had been part of an inner wall dividing upper and lower levels of the city

At the crest of the rise what appeared to be a single building remained, at least its ground level. For Teresa could see broken stones rising like jagged teeth from its lower reaches. Near it was a once-great statue of an armored mer being carried aloft by an eagle. Only the mighty bird's wings had been snapped off, along with the upraised arms of the elf, and moss and ivy draped over the remaining white stone like a funeral shroud.

The minutes crawled by as Teresa stared up the hilltop at the ruins of Belda. Finally her patience was rewarded when her emerald eyes picked out something moving among the rubble. In the distance, it looked like grey cloth, perhaps from a cloak or robe. The forester stood motionless among the oak trees and waited, and after a few minutes a dark figure stepped into view.

She could not tell much, but given that it did not seem to have a tail, she imagined it must be an elf or human. A grey, hooded robe covered the individual's body, completely obscuring their features. She did not see any obvious weapons, but Teresa knew that the folds of that robe could hide an assortment of daggers, or even a short sword.

The figure was still for a moment, appearing to be gazing off in the distance. Teresa wondered who it might be? Bandits seemed to prefer armor. Usually only magicians or priests wore robes. She could not imagine what a priest would be doing in the ruins of Belda though. That left a magician. The members of the Mages Guild typically wore blue robes, though she had seen a few in white and some in green. So it was probably not a guild mage. So who could it be?

Then the grey-robe turned and stepped out of view. Not wasting a second, Teresa leaped into action, sprinting up the hillside. She found that the heather and grass contained numerous rocks under foot, and she had to watch her step to avoid tripping. Still, she moved as quickly as she could up the slope, hoping to reach the crest before the figure returned.

She found there was more rubble the higher she went. Near the top she found a low row of stones which she crouched behind, pausing to catch her breath. Listening carefully, she thought she heard footsteps further up the hill. They grew louder, and Teresa waited, taking care to not make a sound. Soon the footsteps stopped, only to begin again after long moments, only this time fading away. Reasoning that the figure was moving away, the forester peeked her head out from around the end of the stones.

The hill was empty above her. Once more she rose, and this time moved slowly and silently up the slope. Her eyes remained on the crest of the hill, scanning for any sign of movement. As she drew near the single remaining structure, she thought she heard the rustle of cloth. Stepping behind the remnant of a high wall, she pondered her next course of action.

Could it be a necromancer? she wondered. The last one had worn a black robe though. Still, that did not mean they all dressed alike. Was the figure alone, or part of a group? Were they dangerous? Or were they friendly? How could she tell? Were they here to explore the ruin as she was? Would they see her as competition if they were, or could she join them? Should she draw an arrow and set it to her string in case they were dangerous? Yet might that not make them think she was attacking, and prompt them to strike at her first?

Teresa bit her lip as she considered her options. She could poison an arrow, wait for the grey-robe to come back into view, and shoot. That would be murder though, and she knew she could not do that. That meant she would have to talk first. But what if she was wrong?

With the latter thought in mind, she drew forth a pair of arrows and thrust them point first into the ground near the end of the wall. They would be in easy reach if she needed them, she knew, quicker to nock than if she drew them from her bag. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from behind the wall and looked out across the hilltop.

The statue rose up to her left. Now that she was closer to it, she found that it rested upon a circular base of stone that was nearly as tall as she was. To her right was the remnant of the structure she had seen, a building that appeared to be nearly forty feet long. It was pierced by a single opening in its center. It was a stone double-door of the Ayleid type: with a rusted metal handle shaped in a semi-circle at the inner edges of each door, so that when they were shut they would form a circle. Now however, both doors were slid halfway to either side, leaving enough open space between for a single person to walk through.

Broken walls rose to knee and chest height around the structure, and here and there Teresa could see individual blocks of stone scattered about. Wooden poles rose from the ground in a circle around the area. The glowing white crystals tied atop them with simple strips of rawhide were of the same kind Teresa had seen before within Vilverin, and it was obvious that they were used to light up the area at night.

She did not recall seeing any lights atop the hill when she had passed by before. But that had been a month and a half ago, back in Midyear. Plenty of time for someone to move in.

Then someone stepped into view across the hilltop. Clad in what she could now see was soft linen, the grey robe he wore was emblazoned with a black crescent in the center of the breast. While the hood covered his head, Teresa could discern enough of the features underneath to see it was a man from the dark stubble on his chin, perhaps an Imperial from his olive skin.

Before Teresa could speak a word of greeting, he lifted a fist into the air. A blue disc formed before him, only to fall to the ground with a whoosh of magic. Forming in its wake was a dark brown creature. It stood on two legs and had pointed ears like a mer, but was hairless, and bore a serpentine tail that whipped out behind it. It raised its clawed hands, and stared at Teresa with the burning coals of its eyes. Opening its mouth in a hiss, Teresa saw long fangs within that dripped with saliva and glistened in the noon-day sun.

Welcome back from the wasteland! Very nice chapter. Teresa facing one of the largest problems an adventurer can have: Friend or Foe? unfortunately this time it was foe I can't wait to see what happens next.

EDIT (AFTER READING FELLOW READERS/WRITERS COMMENTS): Hooray for conjurers! I must admit that conjuration is one of my Argonain friend's favourite past-time. Uh-Oh, I might have summoned a rogue spoiler there.

Welcome back indeed! I see your time in the wasteland has seeped into your writing about Cyrodiil. Or was it your initial plan to spend the bulk of this chapter describing a ruin?

#@%& Conjurers!! I can see how this chapter might go a long way toward pushing Teresa’s personal philosophy into the realm of ‘shoot first, ask questions later’. It is a shame that Methredhel isn't there to back her up. The description of the clanfear was absolutely chilling. I hope she can drop that thing with those two arrows before it reaches her, having to fish into her quiver for more wastes precious time!

A nit (perhaps):

Forgive me if I am wrong, bit since you are describing a non-gender specific individual, shouldn’t that be ‘its features’?

You sure know how to ratchet up the tension over that eternal question of friend or foe!

Damn Conjurers! I hate 'em, too!

Wonderful description of the Ayleid ruin. It took me a moment to figure out where she was. Well done!

Beautiful descriptions which show Teresa's environmental awareness as well as your writing skill. Even if I had never seen an Ayleid ruin, I would know what one looks like from your words.

And I appreciate Teresa's quandry- not everything that moves is your enemy- it only seems like it. But if you want to stay somewhere one the "good" side of neutral, you can't just shoot first.

Remember the Legion rulefor fighting Conjurers- "Don’t wear yourself out against the summonings; kill the caster." Although the slippery little scuts tend to run away...

Welcome back, SubRosa and Teresa!

Oh how well we know the dilemma of shoot first or declare yourself. Really a challenge for scrawny or stringy wood elves who just can't hold up toe-to-toe if they choose wrong. You portrayed Teresa's reasoning perfectly.

Gulp. Well I guess that answers Teresa's question. Here's what I'm thinkin': http://images.uesp.net//d/dd/OBCreature-scamp.jpg

hazmick: Thank you haz. It is nice to be back to the green fields of Nirn. Although I do miss Three-Dog Awwwwoooo! The Black Horse Courier just cannot compete with him.


Destri Melarg: It was indeed my intention to write a ruin (although you will note that mine is overgrown with grass and flowers). I did mean to go with they. They is often used as a non-gendered pronoun. It should only be used for inanimate objects, using it to refer to people is highly insulting.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. I worked hard to make the ruin come to life.


treydog: Life is tough for an archer, because shooting from stealth is their best option. Teresa wishes she had a mouse cursor that would turn red whenever she put it over a person to tell they are an enemy, or green to show it they are not.


Acadian: Now Teresa is in the same quandary that Buffy was not long ago. We will see how well she deals with it.

You are indeed correct on the critter Teresa is facing, as the first paragraph of this segment will concur.


Next: In our last segment Teresa journeyed to the Ayleid ruin of Belda, where she met a less than friendly conjurer. Next she will have to fall back upon her growing combat skills to survive.


* * *

Chapter 16.2 - The Temple

A scamp! the forester thought as she dodged back behind the wall. The crackling of flame came to her ears as she pulled an arrow from the ground. A moment later the bolt of fire streaked past harmlessly, and Teresa stepped out with her arrow on the string. She let out half of her breath and drew the bow back to half-tension as she sighted in on the Daedra. Then she pulled the string to her cheek and loosed, stepping back to the cover of the wall without waiting to see if it had struck or not.

The screech of the Oblivion-spawn told her that it had hit home. Drawing forth another arrow, she heard the metallic ringing of a bell. That cannot be good, she thought to herself as she stepped back out, it meant the grey-robe was not alone.

"You're meat for the beast Bosmer!" came the voice of the conjurer. "Give up now and we'll make your sacrifice a quick one."

Teresa stepped back into the open with her bow at the ready. The scamp stood before her with one of her steel-tipped arrows in its stomach. She saw fire blossom from its fingertips, and a moment later it came streaking at her in a glowing yellow ball. She easily stepped aside to allow the magical flames to pass, and put another arrow into the monster's chest. It fell with a thump, and an instant later vanished in a swirl of blue light.

Teresa saw the grey-robe standing behind where it had been. He held an iron triangle in one hand, and a metal wand in the other. A simple bell, Teresa thought, she had seen them plenty of times in the farms she had passed since she had begun her woodland excursions. As she watched, he dropped the bell and thrust out a hand. Lightning crackled in the air, and Teresa leaped back to the cover of the wall just in time to avoid being fried to a crisp by the magical energy.

"You're only prolonging your pain tree-hugger!" the taunting voice of the conjurer rang out once more. "The Ebon Moon eclipses all!"

He was just a lookout, the forester thought to herself, there would be more coming. She would have to finish this quickly, or run for it before it was too late.

With that in mind she drew a third arrow from the bag at her hip. Pulling the stopper from the jar of poison at her waist, she thrust the slender, leaf-shaped arrowhead within. When she withdrew it a moment later, it was covered with a black viscous substance. Setting the arrow to her bow, she raised the stave and pulled it back to half tension before she stepped out from behind the wall again.

She saw the conjurer standing to her left, and was just in time to see a disc of golden energy fall to his feet and vanish. For a brief moment his body was suffused by a yellow glow left behind by the spell, then it too disappeared. A Shield spell, she imagined.

Then the forester caught the sight of movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to the right just in time to see an Altmer come charging out of the opened Ayleid door. He was wearing the same grey robe with a black crescent as the first magician. In one hand he clutched a jagged dagger that Teresa recognized as Daedric in origin.

Without thinking, she pulled the string back to her cheek and loosed, the image of the second mage filling her vision. The feathered shaft of her arrow blossomed from his chest, and the high elf went falling back through the doorway and out of sight.

Not waiting around, Teresa leaped back behind the wall. An instant later the air was lit by flashing light, and electricity sizzled through the space where she had stood a moment before. Poisoning another arrow and setting it to her bow, the forester was about to step back out when she heard the sound of shouting from around the wall.

"Melandil is down!" came a distinctly feminine voice, "shot by an arrow!"

"The archer's behind that wall!" rang out the first magician, "A filthy Bosmer strumpet!"

"Call up your summons, we'll overwhelm her." Now came a third voice. This was definitely male, with the sing-song accent of a Breton.

Teresa heard multiple whooshing sounds erupt behind the wall, and knew that the magicians were all summoning Daedra. She could only hope they were more scamps, like the first. If not she was in serious trouble. In any case, she was not going to try to fight it out against three magicians and three summons. Instead she wasted no time fleeing down the hill, taking care to keep the wall between her and the conjurers for as long as she could.

She was over a dozen paces away when she heard fresh shouts ring out from the hilltop. Risking a glance back over her shoulder, she saw that a pair of scamps were in hot pursuit of her, fanged maws grinning with dark joy. Further up the hill stood a woman made of flames. She gestured with one of her hands, and a bolt of fire leaped out.

A flame atronach, Teresa thought as she dodged out of the way of the slow-moving firebolt. She wondered how accomplished a conjurer you had to be to summon one of those? Zig-zagging her way down the hill, she heard more shouts. She realized that she was heading west when the broken flagstones of the ancient road appeared under her feet. Ahead was the shattered archway she had seen earlier, spanning the once-great boulevard. Teresa stopped beside it and turned, raising her bow.

She saw there were now four mages charging down the hill, all dressed in the same grey robes. Before them came the pair of scamps she had seen before, the flame atronach, and now a dremora. The fourth Daedra wore the rough-looking metal armor of its kind, and carried a spiked mace in its fist.

Teresa ignored the summoned creatures. She knew from her Vilverin experience that she had to kill the summoners. Otherwise they would just keep calling up more monsters. With that in mind she set her sights upon one of the figures, raising her bow to make up for the range and higher altitude of the conjurer. Pulling the string back to her cheek with every ounce of muscle in her arms and shoulders, she loosed an instant later.

Then she turned and rushed down the hill again. Lightning crackled and flame roared through the air behind her. Yet none of the magical attacks hit her as she darted across the open ground. She did hear a strangled cry behind her, and the sound of someone falling.

A hit! Her heart leaped at the thought, and she hoped that if it did not kill the conjurer outright, that they would not notice the nightshade on the arrowhead until it was too late. She did not risk a glance back to see however. Instead she ran with all the speed her legs could muster, the oak and pine forest coming ever closer before her.

Just a few more feet, she thought, and she would be under cover. The raucous cry of a raven filled her left ear. Without thinking she firmly planted one foot and pushed off against it, bounding to that side. Lightning crackled past, striking the turf with a shower of dirt and fried heather where she would have been had she not turned.

Thank you Raven, she thought as she sped into the trees, gulping for breath. Stepping behind the cover of an oak, she drew forth a Restore Fatigue potion from her hip and guzzled it in one breath. She really was going to have to start exercising more, she thought to herself. There would not always be time for potions in the future.

In an instant, Teresa's lungs were filled with air and her limbs with energy. Feeling completely refreshed, she drew another arrow and set it to her bowstave. Drawing the weapon to half tension, she let out some of her breath and stepped back into view. The scamps and the dremora were closing fast, while the atronach and the conjurers lagged behind. She saw that all four of the latter were on their feet. But the robe of one was stained in blood, and he limped along with the help of another.

Teresa sighted in on the wounded mage and drew her bow back to her cheek. Letting fly, she paused long enough to see the arrow bury itself into the magician beside him. Damn, she silently cursed, she had hoped to finish off the injured one. Then the onrushing Daedra filled her vision, and the Bosmer turned and fled into the depths of the forest.

The forester led them deep into the woods. The Daedra, while undoubtedly accomplished fighters, were plainly out of their element among the oaks and pines. They blundered about like bulls in a porcelain shop, crashing through the underbrush, snapping twigs underfoot, and blundering into low-hanging branches. Their masters were even less adept in their pursuit, leaving Teresa with no trouble discerning where they were at any given moment.

For her own part Teresa moved swift and deliberately though the forest. Every tree was a friend, every bush an ally. All worked to hide her from the prying eyes of the conjurers. Gliding from one tree to another with ease, she quickly lost her pursuers in the maze of greenery.

One day she would come back, she vowed as she paused to catch her breath once more. But not until she had improved her skills, and learned more of this Ebon Moon. Perhaps she should even write a letter to Baurus about them? she thought. They were plainly connected to the Daedra. They might even be a cult like the Mythic Dawn were.

A very action-packed chapter here, well done! I liked Teresa's intimacy with the forest and the Conjurer's lacking forest skills Can't wait for the next segment.

Hmmm.... far be it for me to be a spoilsport nitpicker obsessed with weapons realism...and yet I feel this must be said:

Running plays absolute HAVOC with your aim and coordination, especially with ranged weapons. I consistently shoot two to as much as five grades lower when I'm gasping for breath, and I have seen the same thing happen to much more experienced shooters than me.

And this is even more true with bows than with rifles, for with bows you have to expend energy on drawing back a powerful kinetic energy weapon as well.

For those of us who know, this spoils the effect of an otherwise very, very well crafted prose.

The conjurer’s taunts add a lot of flavor- esp. the one about the “Ebon Moon.”

I also like the fact that your conjurers actually coordinate their attacks.



Wisdom on the part of our stringy elf. As Satchel Paige said, “Don’t look back, ‘cause something might be gaining on you.”

Saved by her spirit guide once more! And I agree with hazmick about the way Teresa uses the forest as an ally.

And I also applaud her wisdom in deciding to come back another day- perhaps with additional magic resources of her own?

Nits:



I would expect “past” here, but that may be purely a preference issue.



“An iron triangle…”?

So much to love here!!!!

The conjurors taunted her - this was so great to 'bring them to life'. Yet Teresa wisely kept her mouth shut. Buffy will eventually learn this wisdom that Teresa already clearly displays. Let the verbal arrogance of your foes reveal their number, location and disposition. Teresa knows to let her bow do her talking.

Grey-robes. Perhaps it is something wonderfully unique about the Bosmeri mind that sees things this way. I know another Bosmer that sees some of her foes as Black robes, Red robes etc just like Teresa does! I love it!

A heart-pounding fight, with Teresa making great choices. I love how adept she is becoming with her bow, especially in the masterful hands of your writing. Although I was not distracted at all, if you think she would be winded, she could certainly pop the stopper on the easiest potion of all to make - restore fatigue.

I agree with those wise readers above who hailed your use of the forest. Teresa is so very at home among her trees - it was wonderful to see her melt into the woods. Equally enjoyable to see the powerful conjurors and their summons hindered by the same environment.

Despite her turning down Baurus’ offer, it appears that Teresa is acting as a sort of unofficial Blade after all. Hopefully this 'Ebon Moon' (great name BTW) will just turn out to be a group of four or five conjurers living in a ruin with delusions of grandeur.

A question:
Is it your intent to make the summoning of and encounters with daedra a rare occurrence within your version of Cyrodiil? I ask because during her reverie after her escape, Teresa believes that this 'Ebon Moon' is ‘plainly connected to the daedra’ because they all wear grey robes and they summoned daedra to pursue her. Those spells are readily available at the Mages Guild, and knowing them doesn’t make one allied to the daedra. Saying that she is ‘meat for the beast’ sounds like something more akin to Sithis than Oblivion.

And a nit:

I believe the ‘e’ and the ‘a’ got reversed here.

hazmick: Thank you haz. One of the things I want to do with this chapter is to show how Teresa's forester abilities have evolved.


D.Foxy: Teresa was never shooting and moving at the same time, nor did she start breathing hard until after taking her last shot and running deeper into the woods. I did however, take Acadian's advice and have her guzzle a restore fatigue potion before that final shot.


treydog: Thank you trey. One of my focuses in the TF is to portray a world that really could exist and whose people act like real people, rather than a game whose npcs are controlled by a woefully inadequate AI. So of course the guard would raise the alarm, all the bad guys would come swarming, and they would use their most powerful weapon, their summonses, enmasse.

The other thing I wanted to illustrate in these last two segments (aside from Teresa's new-found ranger skillz), is that she is not an uber-powerful heroine living in a world where the enemy is always scaled down so that she can handle them. The TF is more like Morrowind in that regard. There are things out there which Teresa is totally incapable of dealing with, and her survival depends on her use of good sense to run away when faced with them (just as others have the good sense to run away when they cannot stand up to her!).


Acadian: I have always liked villains who taunt the protagonist. It gives them some more flavor. Teresa though was not so much using sense to keep her mouth shut however. As usual, she just did not know anything witty to say! Maybe in the future Pappy will teach her the fine art of verbal sparring.

You know, I never really think about using Restore Fatigue potions. I never had a use for them in the game. But in the TF they would have more utility. Plus it would also underscore her being an alchemist. So I put in her drinking one. My main reason for adding in her being winded was a bit of groundwork I am laying now (and will do so in a future chapter as well), that will prompt her to start a serious exercise program in Bravil.


Destri Melarg: I hemmed and hawed for days coming up with the Ebon Moon. At first I was going to give a nod to IRL magical groups by using The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. But after the Mythic Dawn, I did not want another group of daedra summoners with the word "dawn" in their name. So then I thought The Order of the Silver Twilight from the Cthulhu Mythos. But I really wanted something original, so I kept working until I found the EM.

I actually got the idea from Cardboard Box's Ra'jirra story. He is using a monster mod that among other things adds in a bunch of conjurers called The Guardians of Oblivion (at least I think that's the name). It sounds a lot cooler than just generic "conjurer", so I decided that I should give the bad guys at Belda an actual name, so they would have a teensy bit of depth.

One thing I wanted to touch on in this chapter was her view of Daedra and their worshipers, and the question of 'good' daedra vs. 'bad' daedra, which there is more about in later posts. Teresa's very negative attitude toward Daedra and their worshipers are a direct result of the events of the Oblivion Crisis. She saw one Emperor murdered by a Daedric cultist before her eyes, heard of a city destroyed by them and their Daedra, watched a huge battle of Daedra that were going to destroy Bruma, and then fought for her life against the same creatures in the IC, and learned that a second Emperor died to stop them. Under the circumstances, she cannot imagine such a thing as a 'good' Daedra. She has literally never seen one that was not trying to destroy the world and murder everyone in it. Not to mention she has grown up on stories of evil empires such as the Ayleids or James Cameron the Usurper using monsters like Daedra and Undead to conquer, enslave, and torture people.

It really does beg the question of why would someone in Cyrodiil want to summon a Daedra? The only ones in the vanilla game you can summon are the same ones so desperately trying to destroy the world and everyone in it. We hear of others like Winged Twilights, and see Aureals and Mazken in the SI, but you cannot walk into a magic shop or the guild and learn to summon them.

To use a real world analagy, it would be like going down to Gund Arena to boo at LeBron James and seeing someone in the crowd summon an Al-Qaeda suicide bomber. Imagine how people would react to seeing that? Cyrodiilians would have an even stronger reaction, as they have suffered far more at the hands of the Daedra than the U.S. has at terrorism.

In the game you have to summon them because aside from zombies and skeletons, they are the only game in town. But given a choice I am sure most Americans would sooner summon a U.S. Marine or Army Ranger. Let's face it, that would be extremely cool. Likewise if Cyrodiilians were given a choice, I think all but their versions of Tim McVeigh and the Unabomber would go for summoning Aedra rather than Daedra.

Since you got me thinking about it, I decided to do exactly the latter. I will put in Aedra that people can summon (honestly, it always disappointed me that you cannot do it in the game. None of my characters have ever wanted to summon a deadra. Imagine how cool it would be to play a priest of Arkay, going around smiting undead by summoning up a Warrior of Light). Deities having some form of spiritual servants and go-betweens is a very common thread in religions. So it is not really anything too radical of an idea. It is also rather interesting to think about what kind of servants each of the Nine might have.

Just thinking off the top of my head, I can picture Akatosh having smaller, dragon-like creatures you could summon (maybe like a six or ten foot dragon, or a serpent that 'swims' through the air like a Chinese dragon). Arkay would probably have some kind of glowing creature of light that naturally repels undead. Kynareth is among other things a goddess of storms and the winds, so maybe some kind of living whirlwind (like the Tasmanian Devil).

I am glad you mentioned it, because otherwise I would have never been prompted to do that!


Next: Having escaped from the conjurers in Belda, Teresa continues east to comfort a friend.

* * *

Chapter 16.3 - The Temple

Once the conjurers and their monsters were well and truly left behind, Teresa took stock of where she was. She found that her flight had taken her in the opposite direction that she had wanted to travel. So she traveled south and later east, and just as the first time she had encountered the ruin, she gave Belda a wide berth as she headed to Morcant's cottage.

Magnus had slipped under the western rim of the sky by the time she reached the cliff above the Witch's home, and the dark red bulk of Masser was slowly taking his place on the eastern horizon. Lake Trasimene spread out below her feet, its glassy surface a black mirror of the sky above. Near the shore, the forester could see the lights of a single cottage. Morcant, she thought, thankfully at home.

Secunda's white disc had risen by the time Teresa had made her way down the escarpment. Having donned her night eye goggles to see in the darkness beneath the trees, the forester now stood before the Witch's cottage.

Teresa bit her lip as she stared at the door. What was she going to say to Morcant? Would the Witch even want to see anyone now? How do you comfort someone who has lost their loved one? she wondered. What could you say to make it better.

Well, she had not come all this way to turn around and walk away, the wood elf thought. Taking a deep breath, she knocked gently upon the wooden door. The growl of a wolf came from inside, but otherwise there was no sound from within the cabin. Teresa waited, and knocked again, louder this time. Once more she heard Tsume's response. But heard nothing of Morcant.

She moved to one of the windows, and peered through the glass pane. The sudden brightness of the interior forced her to screw her eyes shut, and she pulled the goggles from her eyes with a low curse. Blinking the spots from her vision, she once again looked within the cottage.

She saw a figure sitting in the rocking chair by the fire. Facing away from the window, the forester could not tell who it was. Then a face covered in grey fur rose up on the other side of the glass, and a wide, pink tongue slathered across its panes. For a moment the wolf barked with excitement as he stared at Teresa from inches away. Then he vanished from the window, and a moment later the wood elf heard him scratching at the door.

"Morcant it's me, Teresa!" she shouted, rapping the window for added effect. "Let me in!"

With that the figure rose, and when she turned Teresa could clearly see that it was Morcant. The auburn-haired wood elf stared at the window for long moments, her face as blank and expressionless as a statue. Teresa waved, and she heard Tsume continuing to scratch at the door. Finally the Witch moved to the entrance.

"What are you doing here?" The door opened to reveal the older wood elf. Her hair was as dull and lifeless as the hollow look in her grey eyes. Teresa felt her heart lurch at the sight. But only for a moment, for the next thing she knew a furred missile struck her and pushed her down to the ground. The wolf's wet tongue seemed to lick every pale inch of Teresa's face, and she could not restrain a faint smile at his obvious joy.

"I missed you too Tsume," she breathed, once she found it safe to open her mouth. Now settled down, the scarred wolf trotted around Teresa's legs, turning to stare back up at Morcant. The forester rose as well, and turned her green eyes to meet the dull gaze of the other woman.

"I came to see how you were doing." As much her voice tried to remain a stone buried in her throat, Teresa forced it to rise from her lips. "I know what happened at Bruma…"

"Well, as you can see I am fine," the other woman's voice was as emotionless as her features. Then her hand rose to the door, and before Teresa could react she pushed it shut.

The wolf made a whining noise, and Teresa looked down to see him staring pensively at the door. "I know how you feel Tsume," the forester sighed, "I wish she would be happy again too. But I guess it's just not that simple."

Leaning down, she ran a hand through the fur above the wolf's shoulders. His gaze traveled back and forth between her and the door. "Come on," Teresa said, stepping toward the trees that surrounded the lake. "Let's find a nice spot to lay down and go to sleep. Maybe she'll feel better in the morning."

* * *

Teresa awoke to the sound of chirping birds. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she looked up to see the sun sitting atop the eastern rim of the valley. There was no sign of Tsume. She imagined that he must have wandered off while she slept.

Stepping out from the edge of the trees, she yawned and stretched. Before she knew it her feet had taken her to the edge of the lake, whose waters had turned bright gold with the light of the rising sun. It was too inviting to pass up. Stripping off her tunic, loincloth, and the Jewel of the Rumare, she slid her naked body into the cool waves. She was not sure how long she had been swimming when a voice from shore brought her head around.

"What are you doing out there?" It was Morcant. The wood elf wore a simple linen chemise and skirt, and held up one hand to shield her eyes from the early morning sun.

"What does it look like!" Teresa exclaimed. "Come on in, the water's nice!"

The older elf shook her head and walked back to the cottage. Oh well, Teresa thought, at least she came out and said something. That was progress after all. A minute later she saw the Witch re-emerge from her home with a small tray containing a teapot, cups, and a plate of what looked like rolls. Setting her cargo down upon a small, round table in front of the cottage, Morcant sat in one of the two chairs flanking it and looked out across the lake.

With that Teresa made her way back to shore. Stopping to slide the Jewel of the Rumare back upon her finger, she felt the water instantly fall from her body and puddle around her feet. Completely dry, she donned her clothing once more and met the older Bosmer beside the cottage.

The smell of cinnamon greeted her, and she saw that the Witch had baked sweet rolls, just as the day she had met her. Morcant did not say a word as Teresa sat across from her and poured herself a cup of the hot tea and took a sip. It was delicate, slightly sweet, and a little malty. Very different from any other tea she had drank, which had usually been bitter and strong. She held the cup under her nose to let the aroma waft through her nostrils for long moments, savoring the comforting scent.

"This is good," she commented, "what kind of tea is it?"

"Argonian White Tea," the Witch said, still looking across the lake. "The Argonians hate it. The flavor's too soft for them to taste. They only grow it to sell to other provinces. I got some from a traveling merchant last week."

"A merchant came all the way out here?" Teresa was a little surprised, and only took a cinnamon roll after she saw Morcant take a bite from another first.

"Well, it probably wasn't his original plan." Morcant finally turned back to look at Teresa. "He managed to get a bad case of rattles while he was in the villages down by Lake Nemi. He came up here to get a cure, since I'm a lot closer than Cheydinhal…"

"Well, here is to his bug," Teresa lifted her cup in a modest toast, "otherwise I would have never had the chance to try something so wonderful. I used to squat with an Argonian girl when I lived on the Waterfront. She used to always make nightshade tea. I took a sip the first time she did and got so sick. That was when I learned that Argonians are immune to poison, and wood elves are not!"

"You are lucky you were not killed!" the Witch exclaimed, and Teresa felt somewhat gratified to finally see some emotion from the other woman. "Nightshade is dangerous, even just the leaves."

"Well, Geen-Rana's no alchemist, so she did not know how to really bring the poison out and enhance it." Teresa shrugged. "Still, I lost my voice, and couldn't keep from doubling over all night. It got me interested in plants and alchemy though!"

"I suppose poisoning yourself is a strong incentive!" Teresa thought Morcant may have even smiled faintly as she spoke. "I have always loved plants. My mother used to say I didn't just have a green thumb, but a whole green hand."

"When was the last time you saw you her?" Teresa asked, "I remember you said before that she lives in Anvil."

"It's been years," the older woman replied, staring off into space again, "a long time."

"Maybe you should go back and see her?" Teresa felt herself biting her lip once more and forced herself to stop. She remembered how touchy the Witch could be about her family from her first visit, especially concerning her daughter. "I know how much I miss Simplicia when I'm away for a long time."

"Simplicia?" Morcant turned to look at her again.

"She's my mother," Teresa said. "Well, not exactly. She didn't give birth to me. I never knew my real mother and father. Simplicia's an Imperial who found me when I was a baby and took care of me ever since. I just wish she would let me take care of her now."

"Stubborn then?" Morcant nodded, turning her head again to stare out across the lake. "It runs in my family too.

This is one of those perfect SubRosa chapters, with lovely descriptions and emotions expressed and hidden.



Just a wonderful turn of phrase there.

Interesting to see that not all wood elves are hydrophilic- or does Morcant know about something that lives in the lake?

And we get a deft addition of some more of Teresa's history, including the origin of her interest in alchemy.

Last, but I have a feeling not least, there are some hints about family...

Nightshade tea? Yum! It sounds awfully familiar...

It's great to see Morcant again, she's had a rough time and needs someone to cheer her up.

A lovely chapter which piqued my interest in m two favourite things: Tea and Argonains.

Yes, another lovely chapter.

'Water makes her clothes fall off.'

Loads of nice rich detail. How can you not love a big dog?

On the summons. I think it would be neat if Teresa learned how to summon a wolf and a bear to help her. I use the in game Daedra/undead in BF just because I like to stick to the game (woohoo, a pet clannfear) when I can; but your TF is not so constrained. Just a thought.

You have obviously taken a page from Hautee’s Book of Endearing Animals. From the licking of the window pane, to the tackling of Teresa and the bounding around her feet, Tsume simply shines in this chapter! His joy at seeing the forester again juxtaposed against Morcant’s broken heart really gave weight to the whole scene.

The conversation that the two women share over tea adds more layers to both of their characters. I sense a bit of foreshadowing at the mention of Morcant’s mother. I wonder who she could be. One can almost hear the turning of gears in Teresa’s mind. Why do I get the feeling that her feet will soon carry her to Anvil?

So we have another character whose origins lie in Anvil. I think it ranks second to Bravil as being the most populated town!

Like Acadian and Destri, I quite enjoyed Tsume's antics. He reminds me of a canine character I wrote once, a sniffer (drugs, explosives, mines, bodies, etc) named Gunnar. Like Tsume, he was quite sensitive to the moods of the folks closest to him.

The wolf licking the window put me in mind of the Pug Computer Screen Cleaner!

It was interesting to see Morcant so devastated by the death of her loved one.

After the thunder of battle, a soft coda of fellowship, reminiscing, a little humour, and, of course, the best antidote for the gigantic ache of loss...tea and sympathy...

Let all the world know that Sub Rosa is our queen of intricate and beautiful emotional construction.

treydog: That last segment was extremely difficult for me to write. I grappled with the question of how best to show Morcant's grief for a long time, and in the end I decided that the more of it I implied, the more powerful it would appear (I hope!).


hazmick: Thank you hazmick. After reading nightshade tea in our favorite Marsh Ranger's tales, I just had to use it. I had thought I mentioned my intent on your topic. Looking back I see I had not. Sorry about that.


Acadian: Teresa thinks it would be a great idea if she could summon a wolf or bear as well. Keep your eyes peeled for more on that later in this chapter.


Destri Melarg: High praise indeed if you are comparing me to h.e.r.'s writing of animals! Tsume really is a fun character to write. He is one of those who takes the keyboard and just runs away with it.

I am glad you can hear the gears clanking in Teresa's mind at the mention of Morcant's mother, because they most certainly are in high gear! We will see more on that subject later in this chapter.


haute ecole rider: I did mention in The Witch of Lake Trasimene that Morcant was born in Anvil. But that was months ago, so I am not surprised it slipped off the radar. So like Teresa, she was originally a city girl who found the forest later in life. I am not sure how much of that might be revealed. Morcant plays her cards very close to the chest...


D.Foxy: Thank you. After the action segments of late, it was nice to write a pure girly chapter!


Next: Teresa has gotten her foot into the door of Morcant's cottage, and does her best to cheer up the older Bosmer as she discovers more about her own spiritual powers.

* * *

Chapter 16.4 - The Temple

They spent the rest of the morning talking that way, about little things. Teresa was just glad to get her to speak at all. Anything was an improvement over the other night, she thought. After finishing their breakfast by the lake, they moved to the garden behind the cottage, where Teresa helped the Witch pull at weeds, and water the vegetables and herbs. By the time Magnus rode at his peak overhead Teresa was sweltering from working in the heat.

She was thankful to beat a hasty retreat into the shade of the cottage with the older woman. There they enjoyed a lunch of sliced cucumbers slathered in a tangy dressing of olive oil, vinegar, and salt. Then they munched on a piece of white cheese, washing it all down with milk taken from her ice box: a simple wooden chest whose bottom was lined with glowing blue cold stones.

"Do you know anything about the conjurers over in Belda?" Teresa asked the other woman. "They called themselves the Ebon Moon, and had black crescents on their robes."

"That bunch has moved into Belda?" Morcant looked up from her plate. "They don't come any nastier. You didn't have a run-in with them did you?"

"Well I sort of stopped by Belda on the way here yesterday…" Teresa poked at her cucumbers with her fork. "They weren't too friendly."

"You just cannot keep your nose out of those places can you?" The Witch shook her head. "You were better off drinking nightshade. Those conjurers won't hesitate to kill anyone if they have the chance. They sacrifice their victims to the Daedra."

"So they're Daedra worshippers, like the Mythic Dawn then?" Teresa looked back up at Morcant, feeling her heart pick up its pace just from thinking about that band of villains.

"No," the Witch replied, "not exactly. They don't worship the Daedra, they simply use them. The only thing the Ebon Moon worships is power itself, and they will gladly trade other people's blood to get more of it. Rumor has it they have groups all over Cyrodiil, any place they think they might find something to get an edge."

"Isn't that what all Daedra worshippers are like?" Teresa frowned, remembering the Oblivion Crisis.

"Not all Daedra worshippers are like that, nor Daedra." The Witch shook her head. "To be certain some - like Mehrunes Dagon - are only interested in death and destruction. Others like Azura are hardly evil. As goddess of dawn and dusk, she holds sway over moments of transition. All magicians would do well to look to her for guidance, for she knows what it means to walk between worlds better than any other. In fact, she is invoked in many initiatory rites for just that reason."

Teresa said nothing, and concentrated on her lunch instead. After what the Mythic Dawn had done, it was hard for her to imagine there being such a thing as a 'good' Daedra. Yet the Witch did have a point. She had never heard of Azura destroying a city, let alone Nocturnal. She had used the latter's name in vain for much of her life. Every thief or anyone involved with thieves did, although she had no idea why. Except that as goddess of darkness, she provided the cloak for them to do their illegal business.

So how could one tell a good Daedra worshipper from a bad one? Teresa could only shrug at her own question. Life never had any easy answers.

Afterward, Teresa thanked the Witch for lunch. She wanted to thank her for so much more, especially the scroll that had saved her life, and the lives of the others in Jensine's shop. Yet she bit her tongue, remembering the reaction she had gotten the previous night. It was probably better not to bring up the Oblivion Crisis, she reasoned, not yet at least. But still, she could not completely dance around the subject.

"You said that you talked to all the spirits," she began carefully. "Do they ever show you things, like in dreams, only when you are awake?"

"Yes, of course." The Witch took a seat in her rocking chair, and motioned for Teresa to sit beside her in front of the hearth. "Visions are part of a strong relationship with your spirit guides. When did you have one?"

Teresa bit her lip. How could she put it delicately, without mentioning Bruma? "It was about three weeks ago. It just happened all of a sudden. One moment I was petting a horse, the next I was a raven, flying through the sky."

"It must have been something very important to you," the Witch said, "for Raven to have heard your call and come to you like that."

"Heard my call?" Teresa said, feeling her eyebrows beetle in confusion. "It just came over me. I wasn't even thinking about anything in particular."

"Your Middle Self - your waking mind - may not have been thinking about it," the Witch explained. "But your Lower Self - your dreaming mind - definitely was. That is what calls out to the spirits. It is not in logic and reason that our divinity lives, but in our feelings and intuition. That is why they come to us in dreams and visions."

Teresa nodded. She thought she understood what the woman meant. Ever since Raven had entered her life, ever since she had noticed him at least, she had been learning more and more to trust her intuition. "So if I want to have a vision, how can I do it?"

"Well by going to your Astral Temple of course," the Witch answered plainly.

"My what?" Teresa blinked. "I don't have a temple. Do I look like I'm rich? All I have is what I can carry with me."

"No silly." The Witch almost smiled for real then, and Teresa was thankful for that. If nothing else, asking Morcant about magic and spirits seemed to engage her, keep her mind off of Attius. The Witch reached out and laid her hand upon Teresa's chest before continuing. "Your Astral Temple is in here. It's something that you create yourself. A safe place between this world and the next."

"Oh," Teresa looked down at her lap. She was certain that the older elf must think of her as an ignorant bumpkin. But when she looked back up into her eyes she saw no trace of scorn. Just patience, wisdom, and perhaps a bit of wry amusement. "So how do I make it?"

"Well, perhaps you already have. Let's find out, shall we?" The Witch stood up now, and walked to one of the windows. Reaching through the open glass of the frame, she pulled back the shutters from either side and fastened them shut. Moving to the other windows in turn, she did the same, until the single-room of the cottage was plunged into shadow. Teresa was tempted to dig her goggles from her pack. But she could still see in the dim light that slanted through the cracks in the shutters and around the door, albeit barely.

"Now make yourself comfortable." Morcant lifted a small hand drum from where it had hung on one wall. She began to gently tap out a slow, soft beat as she walked to Teresa. "Close your eyes, and breathe deep. In and out, just breathe."

Teresa did as she asked, and felt her heart slowing to match the pace of the drumbeat. Her muscles relaxed, and she had to stifle a yawn.

"Now imagine that you are a tree," Morcant went on. "Your feet are roots sinking deep within the ground, your arms are great branches sweeping out into the air, and your hair a forest of leaves. Feel Nirn beneath you, holding you tight. Feel Aetherius above you, breathing down magic and light upon you."

"Now reach down into your roots, and imagine that you are pulling water up from the moist soil. Feel it course up through your body, cleansing you, invigorating you. Now feel it rise from your head, pouring out of the leaves of your hair, and falling back to Nirn. Just feel that life-giving water coursing through you in a never-ending circle. This is the Tree of Life."

Teresa did as the Witch suggested, imaging the cool liquid flowing through her body. She could feel it, washing away her tension and uncertainties, and leaving her feeling confident and serene. It was like Nirn itself was flowing through her, becoming a part of her. Time lost all meaning as she basked in the sensation, and it was not until the beat of the drum began to quicken in her ears that Teresa remembered that she was not alone.

"Now, imagine that you are walking through a forest," Morcant's voice floated within the darkness behind Teresa's eyes. As the Witch prompted, she saw herself surrounded by trees. There were tall and straight pines, oaks with boughs separating and spreading out wide, beeches with their smooth, silvery bark, maples with their samaras hanging like wings, and many, many more. She saw squirrels darting up and down their trunks, while white-tailed deer leaped through the underbrush and birds sang from the branches.

"Now look ahead. You see a clearing, and in it a single, great tree. It is the Axis Mundi, or World Tree."

Teresa did see it. Its bark was a dark brown in color, deeply cut by grooves, and its trunk rose high into the sky. So high that she could not see the top of its bough. It seemed to stretch up forever. A forest of branches radiated from its length, crowned by brilliant green leaves and darker acorns.

Closer to Nirn, she could see that its gigantic roots coiled and stretched across the ground like a nest of serpents. In the shadows that crouched around the base of the roots, she found one pool of darkness that was larger than the others. Drawing closer, she discovered that it was actually a cave, leading into impenetrable blackness.

"Step within, and you will find your temple." Morcant's voice seemed to come from miles away.

Teresa did not hesitate to do so. She found that she was in the same grotto that she had seen since the first of her magical dreams. As before, its walls were of rough stone, and played host to numerous shadows and darker tunnels leading off into the bowels of Nirn. The ceiling of the cavern was open to the sky however, and through it shafts of golden sunlight slanted down to illuminate the center of the chamber. There she found a great pool rimmed in flowers. Its crystal-clear waters held a small forest of plants waving gently beneath the surface. Birds chirped and flew through the room, golden fish swam beneath the waves of the pool, and all was calm and peaceful.

Teresa felt another presence enter the room, and the shadow of great wings slid across her. She smiled broadly, holding out her arms to either side. Looking down, she saw black feathers sprout from her body. A moment later she leapt into the air on mighty wings, and greeted Raven with a guttural cry from her long, slender beak.

This was indeed, her temple.

Well done. It is good to return to that grotto that figured so much in early chapters.

I did remember that Morcant was born in Anvil - I was thinking of her mother.

So Teresa has been carrying her Temple with her all along. That's comforting!

So, Teresa has found Yggdrasil? I hope she will not need to hang upside down from it for nine nights running...

Oooh! I like Morcant!

This is a beautiful example of Teresa's thought processes that inevetibly lead to actions that seem to flow naturally.

It was great fun listening to Morcant talk about her craft. When the author is a subject matter expert, it helps really bring things to life.

Since you introduced Raven, I have been so pleased that Teresa has someone to travel with her. Every wood elf needs that. And I noted that it caused Teresa to give us a broad smile (not a faint one).

Another beautiful episode!

it's OK, Teresa can drink nightshade tea whenever she wants...but I'd rather she didn't (For safety reasons, not copyright issues).
A brilliant chapter! Morcant has cheered up a bit and Teresa has found her inner temple!! Woohoo!

More soon please!

You have always shown yourself to be wise in what to include and what to leave out. Morcant’s silence speaks far more poignantly of loss than any amount of weeping.

The entire discussion of the different aspects of Daedra Princes and their worshipers was a pleasant read.
And Morcant shows her own wisdom by mentioning Azura prominently.



No, and by the time you get them, it’s too late.

So Teresa has been constructing her Temple all along, even though she did not realize it! But there is much about herself she is still learning... Just because something is unknown or unnamed does not mean it does not exist. The naming gives control and understanding- which are components of Teresa's growth.

The word Temple conjured images in my mind that were far different from the grotto in Teresa’s dreams. To discover that the two are one and the same was at once surprising, satisfying, and uplifting. Even as low as she feels with the death of Attius, Morcant’s wisdom is able to illuminate the life of another. Teresa is fortunate to have found a mentor with such a generous spirit.

The entire conversation about Daedra was great. And this:

Is simply beautiful.

One small nit:

There was a small typo here.

haute ecole rider: I was glad to finally get back to the grotto. One of the things this chapter is meant to do (aside from show us Morcant's pain) is to answer some of the questions out there about Teresa's spirituality.


D.Foxy: Let's hope not! She would like to keep both of her eyes as well! OTOH, a pair of Ravens who fly around spying for her would be nice. Not to mention the wolves.


Acadian: I thought you would pick up on the Azura reference, given her recent participation in the BF! She seems to be one of the most popular Daedra out there among players. My guess is because of how highly she figures in Morrowind (the game).

I had not really thought of Raven as a traveling companion, but you are exactly right, that is what he is. Not quite a paladin on Teresa's shoulder, but certainly a welcome presence!


hazmick: Teresa doesn't want any more nightshade tea, that is for sure! More on the way for the Argonians though.


treydog: After everything with the Mythic Dawn, I wanted to use this chapter to at least briefly touch base on the subject of not all Daedra being evil, although I am sure most Cyrodiilians are like Teresa now, and have a hard time believing that. Azura is always a great example for a non-evil one, as her quest in the game is one of the most 'good' ones (along with Meridia's). Besides, as I mentioned to Acadian, many ES players seem to have a fondness of her.


Destri Melarg: In many ways I am using my own personal experience as a guide for writing Teresa's spiritual development. Just like her, I have learned to follow my intuition and just do what feels natural. Then often later I am reading or talking to someone, and suddenly I realize the significance of what I was previously doing.


Next: Now that Teresa has found her Astral Temple, she suggests that she and Morcant take a little vacation...


* * *

Chapter 16.5 - The Temple


The next day the pair were working in the garden once more, when Teresa found her eyes traveling to the line of mountains rising to the north. Even though it was the height of summer, their tall peaks remained graced with crowns of snow. How high must they be? she wondered, how far might one see, when standing atop one?

"Have you ever been to the mountains?" Teresa asked the older wood elf, who knelt in the dirt beside her. "They are so beautiful."

"Oh yes, when I was younger, I used to climb them. I still have all my gear." Morcant wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her forearm. Then she pointed to the peak rising directly to the north. "See that one there? That is Mount Taygetus. It is named after Taygete, one of the Aedra who sacrificed herself to create our world. She is the Queen of the Deer, and lives on today as the does that roam the forest."

The Witch's hand then moved to point out the next peak, just to the east of the first. "That is Mount Carnonus. It is named for her husband - Cernon - who became the King of the Stags. In Valenwood they are still invoked during the Rites of Spring to insure the fertility of the land. Many of the men there carry charms made of horn in the hopes that some of Cernon's… potency… will rub off on them."

Teresa nearly giggled as she wondered what those charms might be shaped like. Her thoughts drifted to the naked legionary in the tower where she had visited Volsinius after the Oblivion Crisis had ended. That Redguard had certainly thought of himself as the Stag King!

"Let's go climb one," Teresa insisted, staring up at the snowy peaks that lined the horizon.

"What?" Morcant sputtered. "You don't just walk up to the peak of a mountain. There are sheer cliffs, slopes of ice, and need I forget to mention that it is cold as winter's heart up there? Why on Nirn would you want to do that?"

"A change of scenery would do us both some good," Teresa rose to her feet and extending one hand down to the other woman. "Besides, it's there, what other reason do we need?"

* * *

As much as Morcant dissented, she did indeed allow Teresa to a drag her from the cottage and into the mountains. The young wood elf had the distinct impression that the Witch really did want to go. She could not imagine trying to make Morcant do anything she was against. In the very least, Teresa saw clearly that so long as she kept the other woman thinking about something other than Attius, her mood clearly improved. But if given too much time on her own, she slipped back into dark brooding.

Thankfully, the forest cooperated with Teresa. They were joined by Tsume soon after leaving the cottage. The scarred wolf was in good spirits, and quite happily ran circles around the two elves, only to occasionally stop and leap upon one or the other in a demand for attention. Even Morcant could not help but to sometimes smile at his antics.

However, Teresa could not stop her frown when the wolf would race off into the trees, only to return long minutes later with a rabbit or squirrel in his mouth. She knew that he was a predator, and that it was natural for him to hunt other animals, yet she could not help but to imagine how his meals must have felt in the last, desperate moments of their lives. Probably no different than Attius had when he fell, she imagined. Or herself during those final, dire moments upstairs in Jensine's shop.

The wolf did not remain with them forever though. After several days he simply turned and went back in the other direction. Morcant did not seem to be surprised at all. "He's like that," she explained. "As I said before, Tsume comes and goes as he pleases."

The forest began to thin as they strode ever higher, and now many wide meadows dotted the landscape. Moose, elk, and rams became more and more noticeable. They even spotted a sleek lioness accompanied by a pair of cubs. The latter they gave a wide berth to avoid provoking the matron. The last thing they wanted was for her to think that they were threatening her young ones.

Then the ground began to slope precipitously, and Teresa realized the climb had really begun. Upward and upward they went, beyond the line of the trees, and into a world of steep grey rock and small, twisted brush. The only signs of life here were rugged bighorn sheep, soaring eagles, and yet another mountain lion they found basking among the rocks.

Yet Teresa had little time to admire the wildlife. What had been a simple stroll now became a difficult - and when once she found herself almost slipping along a nearly sheer cliff - dangerous ascent. Thankfully the entire way was not like that, and it smoothed out into a less steep incline afterward.

Then snow replaced bare rock, and the two elves were drinking potions made from sacred lotus seeds Teresa that had found on the shores of Lake Trasimene. Without them to resist the cold, they would have surely froze in the windswept world they had entered. Out came the slender, curved picks the Witch had insisted they bring, along with spikes that tied around their boots, and rope to bind them together. Then they pushed their way up the icy slopes once more.

When they eventually reached the summit of Mount Taygetus the young wood elf found that it had been worth every ache in her weary muscles. She found herself amidst a line of snow-capped peaks that ran from west to east, and she marveled at being able to see them from above, rather than below. To the north rose a line of mountains even higher, and far more forbidding, than those she stood amongst. They were so high that they simply vanished into the clouds, their peaks invisible and unknowable.

"That is Skyrim," Morcant said breathlessly, following the younger wood elf's gaze. "They don't call it the roof of the world for nothing."

Skyrim, Teresa thought to herself, she had never seen another province before. She had heard stories of far off places like it, Morrowind, High Rock and the rest of the Empire all of her life. Yet they had always seemed impossibly far away. Like they were other worlds. Now here was another world, so close it almost felt as if she could reach out and touch it.

But Teresa turned back the way they had come, and marveled once again at her own world. Below her stretched the Nibenay Basin, going on for what seemed like a hundred miles. Deep forests of green, serpentine rivers, and silvery lakes covered the landscape as far as her lofty eye could see. She could imagine nothing more beautiful, nothing more like paradise, ever existing than the carpet of Cyrodiil spread out below her.

"Thank you Taygete," she found herself whispering, "for giving us this."

Turning to Morcant, the forester saw that the other wood elf was just as caught up in the majestic view as she was. Biting her lip, she slid one arm around the older woman's waist and held her close. She was gratified when the Witch did not pull away, as she feared she might, but instead leaned in close and laid her head against Teresa's own.

"I am glad you talked me into coming," the older woman sighed. "I had almost forgotten how wonderful it is up here, how beautiful the world can be."

With that Teresa smiled. She could not have hoped for more.

Indeed. I felt the same way when I first went up into the Swiss alps...just breathing the air up there made you glad to be alive!

A beautiful chapter Rosa! The bond between Morcant and Teresa continues to grow ever stronger. Tsume's antics made me smile, as did the fact that Tereasa didn't get attacked by every animal she came across.

I also commend you on your descriptions of the mountain climb, it didn't feel tedious and your use of resist frost potions was great.

Teresa (Mallory) speaks!



This entire episode was lovely and lyrical, as you always are when describing nature. And it is a joy to see Teresa becoming a "wise-woman" in her own right, as she heals her mentor. It is also a wonderful description of why we need, from time to time, to go the mountains or rivers.



Editorial eye items:

Apparently, Tsume ingested a “was” from between "it" and "natural" with his meal.



The nearness of the “nearly’s” bothers me here. Suggested- "and when she once almost slipped crossing a nearly sheer cliff-"

The back road between Bruma and Cheydinhal (that goes by Azura's shrine) is my favorite way to travel between the two cities because it takes you up the mountains, and from there it is just a short way to the roof of the world. The view from there often is some of the best in the game (the Valus Mountains south of Cheydinhal have their own charm). You have captured the wonder I feel standing on top of a Jerall peak looking out over Cyrodiil. Well done!

Taygete? Wasn’t she the one nymph who got away? I bet Zeus is still mad over that one.

The description of the ascent was excellent. And the description of the mountains of Skyrim gives an almost mythic feel to the region. It is easy to see why sight of them would take Teresa’s breath away.

I really enjoyed the reversed roles that the two women played in this chapter. Now it is Teresa playing the mentor role to help mend Morcant’s troubled heart.


I think I found the 'was' that treydog was talking about

Oh, I'm with you, Teresa. This was beautiful!

I love Teresa's appreciation for nature and wildlife, and the subtle ways she respects it.

As soon as you said potions made with sacred lotus seeds, I thought resist cold, then a few words later, you gently rewarded my memory. Nice touch.

I quite like Morcant - I have since you first introduced her. I am so pleased she and Teresa are growing closer and learning from each other.

Just a wonderful day! Oddly, I know how hard Teresa and Morcant worked to get up there, but I found it very relaxing.

D.Foxy: Thank you arctic fox, that was exactly the kind of feeling I was hoping to create.


hazmick: Thank you haz. One of the reasons I started writing fan fic was so my characters would not be attacked by every living animal on the planet!


treydog: Thanks Three Dog. I could not resist quoting Mallory and his three most famous words in climbing! As ever thanks for reining in Tsume's ravenous appetite.


haute ecole rider: I always try to take that same path, circling around north of Gnoll mountain, going up its eastern side, then coming down and passing Sedor. It is one of my favorite walks in Oblivion.


Destri Melarg: I think whether Taygete got away depends on which version of the tale. She either escaped from Zeus because Artemis turned her into a deer, or she was raped and Artemis turned her into a deer. Either way, she turned into a deer, which is why I used her name.

I am glad you are not the only one to note the reversal of roles between Teresa and Morcant in some of this chapter. It is one of the things I worked on trying to convey, as Teresa is doing her best to step up and be a good friend.

As always, thanks for finding where that wolf put my word.


Acadian: Yep, you called it on the Lotus Seeds. I actually got my idea for the use of the potions from Buffy's use of a frost enchantment to make a portable refrigerator. I thought the reverse would be perfect. Besides, this way no one has to wear that ugly fur armor!

You will have an answer to your question (and Destri's from a while back) about summoning this segment.


Next: Teresa and Morcant have climbed Mount Taygetus, next they make their way back down, and make a discovery along the way.

* * *

Chapter 16.6 - The Temple

After a brief meal of bread, olive oil, and cheese they made their descent. As amazing as the view was, neither wanted to remain on the peak when night closed in. The way down the ice and rock was even more difficult than the ascent, and Teresa's weary muscles protested every step. Yet while looking down to find a foothold, a curious sight came to her eyes, and she had to look again to be sure she was not imagining it.

Far below and to the west, at the edge of the treeline, a small plateau jutted from the mountainside. Nestled into the very slope of the rock was an outcropping of white stone. Not rough and natural, but with very even, straight lines. It was a building, of a type she had seen many times before: Ayleid.

"What's that over there?" Teresa asked, risking freeing one hand to point out the mysterious site.

"I don't know," Morcant's voice floated down from above. "I never went over there."

"Why don't we go have a look?" Teresa said, and began to inch in that direction as she moved down the slope once more. "There might be something interesting."

The forester thought she heard the older woman mutter something about curiosity and a cat, but she could not tell in the wind that gusted around the rocks. Yet the Witch did follow as Teresa slowly but surely made her way down the mountain to the ruin.

It was full dark by the time they reached the treeline, and as much as Teresa imagined what wonders the site might hold, even she did not have the energy to continue on. Instead she ungracefully plopped herself down against the trunk of a fir tree and groaned.

"Mountain climbing is hard work!" Teresa found herself exclaiming. She heard Morcant laugh as the older woman sat beside her. After a light dinner of more bread, olive oil, and water, she found herself dozing off into a deep sleep filled with dreams of soaring eagles and deer with great, spreading antlers.

The two of them slept late, and the sun was well over the eastern horizon as they put it to their backs and set out through the forest once more. It was past noon when they came to a narrow path through the pines and firs. Following it to the west, it brought them to the small plateau Teresa had seen from above. Jutting from the side of the mountain, a sheer cliff face dropped off to the west and south. Yet the ground sloped more gently in the direction of the path, which now turned from simple hard-packed dirt to a jumble of broken white stones.

Seeming to grow directly from the face of the mountain before them was a squat, white building. It was not very large, only the size of Morcant's cottage. Its face bore no windows or other decorations, but was cut by a single entryway of the usual Ayleid style: a pair of double doors bearing semicircular handles where they met, forming a complete circle midway up the entrance.

She heard the whoosh of magic, and turned to see the yellow disc of a Shield spell fall about Morcant's form. "Just being careful," the older wood elf explained. "You never know what might lurk in a place like this."

Teresa nodded, and took the time to string her bow. By the time she had finished, she heard another hiss of magic, and this time a towering grizzly bear took form behind a falling disc of blue energy. The mighty animal sniffed the air, and after only a momentary glance at Teresa, he sat down upon his hind legs, just as an elf or human would. The wood elf had to stifle a smile at the sight.

"Sorry, no fish for you," Morcant said to the massive animal as she reached out to stroke its brown fur. "Hopefully nothing at all."

"Is that a real bear?" Teresa found herself asking as she stared at the grizzly. "I mean, did you pluck one out of a forest somewhere and bring it here?"

"Oh no, summoning does not work that way," the Witch explained. "At least not nature summoning. It is the very idea of the animal that you summon, its symbol, that is a part of all our Lower Selves. Think of it as a spirit guide given flesh, if only for a half-hour or so."

"So if he dies, he's not really dead then?" Teresa asked, and felt a flood of relief when the Witch nodded.

"He can't die," Morcant explained as she rubbed the fur underneath the great beast's chin. "No spirit can. He is as eternal as the sky. His flesh might be rent, and the spell broken, but he lives on in us forever."

"Can you teach me to summon a bear?" The forester edged closer to the mighty predator, who still paid her no heed. "Your scroll came in really handy in the city. It saved my life in fact, and a lot of other people's. I have been meaning to thank you for that by the way."

The Witch merely laughed. "Summon a bear?" she chuckled, then nodded her chin at the weapon clutched in Teresa's hand. "Tell me, how long have you been using that bow?"

"About ten years," Teresa answered, already knowing where the Witch's question was leading.

"And how long did it take you become good with it," she asked. "I mean really, really good, so that you could hit a moving target at range?"

"Years," Teresa answered honestly. "Many years."

"Magic is no different, my young seeker," Morcant's voice was quiet and patient, and Teresa wondered how many times the older woman had said the same thing to other young hopefuls such as herself. Probably more than she could remember, Teresa imagined. "It requires the same level of discipline and commitment. Only through years of constant effort will your skills evolve to the point where you can call up animals as powerful as our friend here."

"Do not feel bad." Now the Witch stepped away from the bear and took one of Teresa's hands. Pulling her back to the grizzly, she laid the young elf's fingers into the thick fur along the back of the massive animal. Teresa's found her hand moving almost of its own accord, stroking the soft, brown hairs of the grizzly. "You have an entire lifetime to learn. Just keep doing what you are, one little step at a time, and you will get there someday. When you are ready, your spirit guide will show you how."

Teresa barely heard the other woman's words, so entranced was she by the great beast in front of her. Its powerful musk filled her nostrils, and the solid bulk of its muscles rippled under her fingers. She could not imagine trying this with a wild bear, not even with her Bosmer power to control animals.

Yet she had thought the same about wolves, and the first one she had met after leaving the prison sewer had proved her wrong. So why not? she wondered. She was a wood elf after all. So long as she respected them, the animals of the forest were her friends rather than her enemies.

Loved this chapter - from the mountain climb to the descent toward the mysterious Ayleid ruin, to the summons of the great bear.

Ain't that the truth!

And so did I!

Just one teeny nit, more a quibble really. Bear fur isn't really all that soft - it's coarse and oily, more like a husky's coat (minus the downy undercoat). Think German Shepherd on a much greater scale and I think you have it. It's up to you whether or not you want to change it in your story. The idea of such a terrifying, grand beast having touchable-soft fur is appealing in its own way.

Another beautiful day!

I enviously point out how much I like this speech tag.

Curiosity killed the cat. Very clever, and so typical of your wonderful dry humor that emerges naturally from the situation.

I quite loved how you handled Teresa's very natural questions about the nature of summons - at least nature ones. Buffy and I have pondered the same questions. Simply a beautiful and compelling explanation. I was also pleased (sorry, Teresa) that Morcant pointed out that grizzly bears are not for beginners, and why. That said, I hope Teresa soon learns to summon furry helpers - and that she progresses quickly from rats to at least wolves. I agree with Moracant, that things like bears and cave lions can wait.

Your portrayal of Teresa and Morcant continues to be a joy to read. Morcant clearly is the older and wiser elf and I am delighted to see Teresa so receptive to that and eager to learn. Yet, I am also pleased to see Teresa teaching a few things to the lovely older witch.

Again, despite the bitter cold and aching muscles, I again find myself relaxed and at peace in the mountains. Away with the elves, as it were.

True, as anyone who has impetuously free-climbed a rock face has discovered!

Seems Teresa is attracted not only by water, but by white marble ruins!

And you force me to quote a large block of text, for its wisdom, its beauty, and its power:



I hope this expedition will bring some measure of healing for Morcant- I know reading about it has brought peace and pleasant thoughts to me.

So if summoning a grizzly takes years, does that mean that Teresa will start with a chipmunk or something? I can just see her, ten years from now, standing on the banks of Lake Trasimene with the Ebon Moon bearing down on her yelling: “Fly, my monkeys, fly!”

Great chapter, ‘Rosa. The roles have shifted back to the norm I see. The way magic works in the TF (especially nature magic) is so much better than what is presented in the game. Who wouldn’t want to be able to summon a grizzly for a half-hour’s worth of protection? Being an elf, Teresa certainly has the years to spare to learn all that she needs to know. That is, as long as she can refrain from checking out every abandoned ruin that crosses her path!

Morcant is awesome, shield spells and bear summoning? I thought she was just an old alchemist!

I loved the bear, I could imagine it's huge, hulking form standing with the tiny Bosmer. Will Teresa be learning any summoning skills in the future? I hope so.

More of this Ayleid ruin please, it sounds exciting!

h.e.r. Thank you. Whenever I see a bear sit like that, plopped down on his butt with back straight up like a human, it always makes me smile. I did not know that about bear fur. I have never touched a live bear, but the bear-skin rugs I have touched have all been very soft. Is that softening a byproduct of the tanning process then?


Acadian: Thank you. I had to wrack my brain on figuring out the summoning mechanics, because I realized that if you did call a real animal to you, Teresa would never want to do it. If it got hurt, or worse killed, because she summoned it, she would not be able to live with herself. Also, if magic were able to reach out and teleport an animal to you, it would also be able to do the same to a person. Then we would have people summoning one another all the time, which would really screw up how the world works imho.


treydog: Indeed, Teresa is drawn to those Ayleid ruins for some reason. We will eventually learn why at a much later date.


Destri Melarg: Teresa will not be starting with a chipmunk. Actually the critter should be rather obvious. Just think about what small animals she has the strongest relationship with. It will be a while before she starts doing that however, she had other lessons to learn first, and skills to hone.


hazmick: Morcant is indeed a lot of fun to write. Being an accomplished magician is why the nearby goblin tribe learned to leave her alone! Not to mention why bandits like those formerly of Vilverin trade with her rather than attack her. Besides, she created a summon grizzly scroll for Teresa, so she would have had to be able to summon one to do that.


Next: The final segment of this chapter. Teresa and Morcant have descended from Mount Taygetus, and found a mysterious Ayleid ruin. Next, Teresa deepens her spiritual bonds with Nirn as she prepares to explore its depths.


* * *

Chapter 16.7 - The Temple

But she had not come here to pet bears, she found herself thinking. There was an Ayleid ruin to explore. Turning from the magnificent animal, she drew an arrow from the bag at her hip and set it to her bowstave. Stepping closer to the ruin, she saw no signs of habitation. No campfires, no footprints, no cast-offs. If anything was living inside, it did not venture out very often.

"I wonder what it was?" Teresa thought aloud as she stepped up to the door, Morcant in tow. "I mean, was it a fortress? or a tavern? some hunter's house? I wish there was some way to tell."

"Why don't you ask?" the Witch suggested, her tone completely serious. When Teresa gave her a befuddled stare, the older wood elf gestured at the ruin before them. "Ask the spirits of this place, let them show you what it once was."

"How do I do that?" the younger elf wondered, but as the Witch began to speak, she cut her off. "No, I know. In my temple, right?"

"Indeed." Morcant smiled and gestured for Teresa to sit. "Go ahead, I will keep watch out here."

Setting down her weapon, Teresa found a reasonably comfortable spot beside the Ayleid building. Putting her back to the wall, she sat down and dug her fingers into the dirt beneath her. Closing her eyes, she let herself relax, and began the Tree of Life exercise. As before, she could feel the energy of Nirn coursing up through her body, cleansing her, and finally flowing back to the ground beneath her feet. She was no longer a separate entity, but rather a part of the world, just as the soil and rivers were.

In time she visualized the forest spreading out around her, and the great World Tree stretching up before her. She ran into its gnarled roots without hesitation, and plunged headlong into the darkness that shrouded them.

Then she was back in her grotto. This time Raven did not come to her, as he had so often before. Looking around the shadows of the walls, she called out to the spirits of the ruin, to the mountain itself. Not with words, but with feelings. Reaching out into the darkness, she found the shadows rippling under the fingertips. As they stilled, images formed before her eyes.

She saw the mountain, as if she were an eagle soaring high above. As she spiraled downward, a wide road of white stone came to her eyes, winding its way through the forest that blanketed the base of the rise. Following it, she came to the plateau. Not the tiny thing that she and Morcant currently stood upon, but rather a wide shelf that ran for nearly half a mile, rimmed with evergreens.

Within she found not a single building, but rather an entire complex of structures great and small, all of the same white stone she knew so well from the Ayleids. Many were painted in bright murals depicting deer and flowers, and some were decorated with vines of bronze and leaves of gold. Pale-skinned elves clustered around the open meadow at the center of the settlement. There a great pole rose from the ground, like the mast of one of the great, ocean-going vessels that docked at the Waterfront of the Imperial City. Elves danced around it in a circle. In their hands they grasped strings that led to the top of the pole, trailing brightly colored streamers along their lengths. They sang and laughed as the danced, slowly wrapping the pole with their brilliant cords.

When they were finished, and the pole was completely covered in a riot of color, a man and woman stepped forth. The man wore a cloak of deerskin, and his head was covered in antlers, so that he appeared to be half-beast, half-man. The woman wore a gown of green and brown, and her long hair was bedecked with flowers of all kinds, as if she was the forest itself. The pair held hands as they walked among the celebrants, singing something whose words the wood elf could not understand. Yet the meaning of the song was clear in her heart. It was a celebration of life itself.

After making a complete circuit of the pole, they stopped at a stone altar. There they each drank from a wide cup of glowing meteoric glass. From this they poured small drops into a row of other, smaller cups that appeared to be filled with wine. These were in turn passed among the gathered elves. After all had drunk, the man turned to the woman, and she wrapped her arms around him. His lips found hers, and the pair fell to the ground in one another's arms. Most of the celebrants did likewise, and Teresa could feel the same ardor begin to flow hot through her veins just from watching…

* * *

"Sedor!" Teresa gasped as her eyes flew open. Morcant loomed above her, and the small plateau was as quiet and empty as before. The summoned bear had vanished, and the sun had slipped far from its zenith above.

"This was Sedor," she went on, realizing that she was not only out of breath, but flushed. "It was a temple of Taygete and Cernon. They had fertility rites here every Spring. You should have seen it! It was big, so much bigger than this. But it was abandoned thousands of years ago, and then most of the plateau was washed away by wind and rain, taking all but this building down the cliff."

"I know," the Witch said with that little, all-knowing smile of hers.

"You knew!" Teresa exclaimed. The other elf offered her a hand to help her up, and Teresa took it and sprang to her feet. "Then why didn't you say so?"

"Some journeys we must take on our own, or their value is lost." The Witch said serenely. Her expression was one of pride however. She fairly beamed with it. "You have done well young one, very well. You have an open heart, it brings you close to the spirits. That is what this place was all about, nurturing the bond between the physical and the spirit. It is too bad the Ayleids turned away from their love of Nirn for darker pursuits…"

"Is there anything you don't know?" the forester said with a shake of her head.

"Plenty," the Witch sighed, her eyes glancing away into the trees. "The more you learn about the world, the more you discover how much you don't understand."

She was thinking of Attius again, Teresa realized, and suppressed the urge to sigh herself. But perhaps it was for the best after all, she thought. It was not like the Witch would ever forget him, or was going to be able to go on with her life as if nothing had ever happened at all. She remembered what Morcant had said about her nightmares after Vilverin, that they were the mind's way cleansing itself. Perhaps grief was the same way, and it was only by enduring it that it could ever be washed away? Teresa hoped she would never have to find out.

Before she began brooding herself, Teresa shoved the stone doors open, allowing the dank, musty air within to flow over her. She knew that it had only been a storehouse when the temple was still in use. But there was still no telling what might have moved in during the last few months.

As it turned out, nothing had. At least not recently. She was not surprised, this far from settlements and roads, there would be no reason for bandits to inhabit it. Nor would animals have been able to open its doors to make dens there, let alone close them again behind them. As far as necromancers, or conjurers like those in Belda, who could fathom their motivations at all?

So with no loot to speak of, Teresa and Morcant emerged from the depths of Nirn shortly thereafter, with nothing but more dust on their clothes to show for their exploration. It was all just as well, Teresa thought, with the memory of what the mountain had shown her still so clear in her head, she probably would not have been able to focus very well in a fight anyway.

So from there they trekked back through the forest in the direction of Morcant's cottage. Tsume joined them after a few days, and escorted them the rest of the way. Teresa was glad for his company, as once again Morcant had sunk into her sullen brooding. Although the wolf tried to lighten her spirits, even he could do little to alleviate her dark mood.

The day after their return, Teresa found the Witch filling her pack with food and other supplies once more. Only this time she left the ice-picks and crampons behind. Instead she was taking much more food, and the forester even noted a heavy purse clinking with what could only be coins go into the bag.

"Going somewhere?" she asked.

"Yes," the Witch responded, her face a dull, blank mask. "You were right, I need a change of scenery. Someplace where I do not see… him, everywhere."

"You're going to see your mother then, in Anvil," Teresa guessed.

"Yes," Morcant nodded. "Your intuition serves you well. One day you will be quite a Witch I think, if that is where you choose to take your life."

Teresa put her arms around the other woman and held her close. Silently praying to Mara, she hoped that Morcant would find the peace she so desperately needed with her mother. As for herself, she could not wait to return to Simplicia and tell her about everything she had done and seen. But perhaps first she would venture south of the Blue Road, and see what lay in those hills she had spied out during her last trip…


Note: Since Morcant seems to be a popular character, would people like to see a chapter devoted just to her in Anvil? (as I have done a few other Vols-only chapters?)

Absolutely, I would love to see Morcant in Anvil!

This was a wonderful chapter, and I loved how you brought an Ayleid ruin to life. By your description, I had suspected Sedor, and was happy to see my guess was correct.

Those places are both creepy and beautiful and awesome and downright scary all at once.

And we see that Morcant is still struggling with grief. As a writer who has written more than one character with the same problem, I love how you have captured the ebb and flow of mourning and the perfectly natural reaction to leave the place of so many memories that are yet painful to bear.

Will Morcant be giving this lovely cottage by Lake Trasimere to Teresa? It would make a wonderful base for her alchemical collection and her metaphysical journey.

I am torn between that part of Tamriel and the coastline around Anvil as the most beautiful places to spend time. You have only increased the conflict in my heart!

I love it! eresa is getting quite good at this 'inner temple' stuff and Morcant makes me smile. The vision of Sedor in the past was brilliant--a group of Ayleid elves, drunk on life (and wine) who end up having some group love.

A chapter about Morcant's holiday in Anvil sounds awesome, I look forward to hearing more!!

A leftover from the previous story regarding how summoning wild creatures works in TF - I chuckled as you explained your logic. Partly because it makes perfect sense, and partly because I was quite convinced that was exactly your intent. Just as Buffy would never soul trap a deer if she thought she was imprisoning its spirit, Teresa would never summon an animal if she thought it would die in her service. That is such a natural part of Teresa's makeup. I could almost see the little Teresa and SubRosa wheels turning to craft that wonderful bit of TF lore. Wonderful!

*

Another beautiful episode.

You continue to spoil us with interaction between Teresa and Morcant. Yes, she is a popular character, for good reason. Your own knowledge of witchcraft seems to bring these two elves right off the page. Spending an episode with Morcant, perhaps in Anvil, would be lovely!

I admire how Teresa allows herself to be used as a vessel to draw out the best in others - not just Morcant, but a long list of TF NPCs. It is something we strive for also. Must be another wood elf thing.

Your description of the elves and their 'maypole' festivities was great fun. Hmm . . .
Being well aware that this description fits Teresa perfectly and her interest in things Ayleid, do I detect some foreshadowing here?

At first I thought that I had ventured into some alternate version of Tamriel. I am so glad that you clarified that the Ayleids you were depicting were from an earlier age. They certainly do not jibe with the description found in The Adabal-a:

Not exactly dancing around the maypole, eh?

This is another example of how much Teresa has grown in her understanding of the nature of things. I wonder what this young forester would say if given the chance to speak with that scared girl wandering half-blind through the sewers under the Imperial City dungeon. And, unfortunately, I detect a bit of foreshadowing in that cryptic second sentence.

As for Morcant's adventures in Anvil: Yes, please!

You add a great deal of depth, not just to your characters, but to their world- which has become a character in its own right. This was a thoughtful, enjoyable episode- a pleasant interlude in which Teresa develops her skills.

As to Morcant in Anvil- absolutely.