haute ecole rider: Well it's not a knight actually, just legion cavalry. The knight was back at the Wawnet Inn.


Linara: Where that bandit got his suit of Daedric armor will addressed in the following two segments.


D.Foxy: The dagger I was thinking for Teresa was a main-gauche, that she can parry with. Something like this or this in design. I have been toying with the idea of an Anelace too, although at a foot and half long, it is more than I originally had in mind.


ureniashtram: Water is indeed Teresa's friend. Writing the TF has shown me just how useful water-breathing can actually be.


mALX: Indeed, the cavalryman is next.


Destri Melarg: Oh noes! Not Mr. Bigglesworth upset!

Tony Montana it is. I think I was actually confusing his last name with Inigo Montoya from Princess Bride.

The opening of this chapter is indeed completely different. Teresa got laid in Weye by two people this time around! Likewise, even Teresa's encounter with the bandits a bit different. I worked in Raven at the beginning, and changed the gear of the bandits. The biggest thing being the boss has Daedric armor now. Not to mention Teresa now has mithril arrows.


Acadian: Water does more than make wood elves clothes fall off! It also can be lifesaving.

As much as Teresa would like to be summoning critters, she has other things on her plate in the near future, such as a cardio-exercise program to improve her endurance. This encounter and the one with the conjurers at Belda has shown her that she needs to toughen up physically. She also is starting to see that she needs some way to deal with people who get up close to her, such as the Khajiit did here, and the ghost did at Castle Magia. Once she gets to Bravil, there will be even more work for her to do (and magic to learn). So conjuring will have to wait.

Plus, her teacher is off in Anvil. As we will see sometime in the future. Rest assured though, she will indeed learn to call up the animals of the forest one day. Imagine being able to summon a horse? Now that would be a handy trick. Of course Teresa would have to learn how to ride first (but that is on her plate for Bravil as well, thanks to the some equestrian friends she has yet to meet).


Verlox: Perhaps not as manly a rescue as you might think...


treydog: She has indeed come quite a long way from the girl who squeaked "eeep!" and fell on her boat when faced with Baurus in the prison tunnels!

Your mention of the Shootist reminds me of the rl Doc Holliday. He was just an ordinary dentist before he became terminally ill with tuberculosis. He became a gunfighter, and a very dangerous one, afterward because he literally had no fear of death. Being killed by a bullet would be blessing compared to what was in store for him. So the same way, he never flinched, or hesitated, or had to work up liquid courage before a fight.


Next: Teresa has survived her encounter with the bandits. Now she learns that her savior is not quite what she thought, nor was her enemy.


Chapter 23.5 – The Rider

Teresa bent forward with her hands on her knees and gulped for air. Her blood was pounding in her temples, and she felt the familiar post-combat tremble already beginning to set into her limbs. The wood elf's shaky fingers drew forth a Restore Fatigue potion and she gulped it down between breaths. She had to spend more time running! She had thought she was in good shape until meeting that armored bandit. Now she could see that she still had a long way to go. If it had not been for the nearby lake, Teresa thought, or the legionary, things would have gone much worse.

The rider had passed by her after stabbing the marauder. Now he slowed his horse and came back in a wide turn. Like all the other legion horses she had seen, his gelding had a powerful neck, broad shoulders and chest, and a back that was both wide and short. Graceful and quick-footed, he seemed to glide over the grass with a long, easy stride.

Teresa looked at the rider with a faint smile as he dismounted beside her. He wore the same dark-tinted plate armor that all Imperial Legionaries did, and his head was encased by a full helmet crowned with a red horsehair crest. That is when Teresa noticed the way his armor gently curved outward at his wide hips, inward at his midsection, and then out again at his chest to form a familiar hourglass. The face that stared back at her through the Y-shaped slit in his helm was somewhat softer than she was used to seeing on a soldier as well.

Screenshot

"You're a girl!" Teresa gasped with wide eyes.

"Your grasp of the obvious does not fail you citizen," the legionary said dryly as she drew her arming sword. "Stand back, this one might not be finished yet."

Teresa stepped aside as the legionary cautiously approached the fallen bandit. Stepping on his wrist with one foot, she knocked the longsword from his hand with the point of her blade. He made no sound when she followed with a boot to the midsection, nor when she planted one foot on his back and pulled the helm from his head with her free hand. Drawing back his head by the hair, she revealed a face with dark Nibenean features, eyes open and glassy in death.

Teresa marveled at the caution the legionary took with an enemy who was so plainly dead, and took mental notes to emulate her. Being careful never hurt, the wood elf thought, especially if someone might only be pretending to be dead…

"That was clever work with your spell citizen," the legionary said as she rose and sheathed her sword. Teresa thought she detected a Nordic accent to her voice, and noticed that her eyes flashed blue through the slit of her visor. "You made him an easy mark for me."

"I'm Teresa," the wood elf said, feeling her breath returning to her. "Thank you for your help. I thought I was going into the lake for a moment there!"

"That's what we're here for citizen." It was the response that Teresa had come to expect from any soldier. She wondered if they were all taught to say that?

"I did not know there were women in the Imperial Legion?" the wood elf asked as the legionary knelt beside the dead bandit and began stripping the armor from his corpse.

"There are more of us than most people think," the other woman replied. She drew off her helmet with a cascade of straw-colored hair. Her features were angular, with high cheekbones and a strong chin. Not pretty, but attractive in a certain, rugged fashion. "I'm Valfreya by the way."

"How come you are alone?" Teresa said. "I mean, don't you soldiers patrol in groups?"

"Not anymore," Valfreya answered as she pulled the back plate of the bandit's Daedric cuirass off and threw it aside. "After the fighting at Kvatch, Bruma, and the Imperial City there aren't enough of us to go around. We only work in groups now when there's something big."

"Oh," Teresa breathed. Vols had told her that the Fifth was low on people. It was why he had been assigned to train new ones. Yet she had never imagined it was so bad. Still, that did explain why she had been seeing only one guard at each side of the district gates within the city rather than the usual two. She wondered if the group of soldiers she had seen at the Wawnet Inn weeks before had been on some special mission?

"Listen, what's your name…Teresa? give me a hand with this fetcher," the legionary motioned the willowy Bosmer down beside her. "I have to confiscate his weapons and armor so other outlaws don't come along and take them. We've been seeing more and more of this Daedric dreck showing up on bandits since Bruma. They were supposed to have collected it all after the battle, but a lot of it seems to have walked off on its own."

"Sure." Teresa knelt down in the grass across the body from the other woman and began unbuckling the greaves from his legs. At one time she would have felt squeamish about stripping a corpse, but she had gained enough practice in the last few months that it was almost second nature to her now. She had been hoping that the legionary would leave the armor. That way she could have sold it herself.

"What are you doing out here by yourself anyway?" Valfreya asked as she pulled off his gauntlets and threw them into the dish of his face-down backplate. "Ever since the Crisis there's been a rise in bandit attacks. You are asking for trouble traveling alone."

"I just came down from Weye, on my way to Bravil," Teresa explained. "I normally don't have any trouble with bandits because I stay off the roads. But there was some good summer bolete growing by the roadside down there and I stopped to harvest it."

"Oh, mage eh?" the legionary chuckled. "I should have guessed from that spell. You don't look like a magician though."

"I'm not really," Teresa bit her lip. "I only know a few spells is all, and I can mix some potions. I'm mostly an archer. This fetcher's armor was too much for my arrows is all. Even my new mithril ones. Someone's enchanted it with a Shield, that may be why. He must have killed a legionary to get the helmet I suppose."

"That's what I thought at first too, but I know that move he used to try to ward off my lance. I was taught it as a recruit." Valfreya stripped away the last of the mail from his arms and cut away the padded tunic beneath it. Holding up his arm by the wrist, she revealed a red tattoo of a dragon against his olive skin.

"He's Imperial Legion," Valfreya spat, "a deserter!"

"Damn…" Teresa whispered. It seemed hard to imagine a legionary deserting and turning to banditry. Yet there was the proof before her eyes. What would Vols say if he could see such a thing?

Ahh! The natural order of things has been torn apart!!!

I had a feeling that might happen

I think this was better the second time around. I can't quite recall the original, but this one felt more - well, complete than the original.

Loved meeting Valfreya again! Julian would approve of her caution with the bandit - make sure they're dead before you let your guard down!

I wonder if now Teresa (slightly) regrets the anger she had built up earlier, when she thought the bandit might have killed a Legionary to get that helmet!!!

Regarding those daggers - good for unarmoured or lightly armoured opponents, but against steel or even worse, Daedric Armour, they'll be about as effective as toothpicks, unless of course you can find that tiny joint between the plates.

You might want to think about that all-steel short spear I have written about in "Of Blades, fights, and Assassins". Combine that spear with the kneel down and thrust from below plus the trip, and the armoured giant will fall directly on top of you just as you thrust up from below. The combination of your upthrusting strength plus his own falling weight and momentum will enable the steel point of that spear to defeat the armour! This tactic has the further advantage of stepping inside the 'killing zone' of his longsword, which becomes an almost useless weapon at short range.

Or if you'e opting to flee, you might want to think about the bolo balls on a string flung at the ankles of a charging enemy (also mentioned in my treatise) . The only way to defeat that throw (if it's accurate) is to jump over it... and jumping is another thing that a heavily armoured enemy does NOT do well.

Old business regarding summoning: I believe you and I think in terms of glacial story pacing. I have no doubt that somewhere within the next, oh, hundred episodes or so - when you're ready - Morcant will teach Teresa about summoning creatures of the forest.

I agree with Rider, that the power and grace of the lancer's entrance in the last two chapters was even stronger than in 1.0. Well done!

I found the precise pacing, building and moment of actual discovery that Teresa's rescuer was of her own sex to be absolutely perfect:

Nice touches throughout, such as a bit of detail on the Legion gelding, explaining why the Legion is short of soldiers, and the policy of stripping/confiscating bandit armor/weaponry.

Why do I have visions of Recruit Teresa reporting to Centurian Vols for training as a new member of the Legion? I know that is not going to happen of course, but it is a fun thought.

I applaud Teresa's efforts to improve her endurance, or ability to run distances. I'm afraid that between keeping Buffy's endurance permanently at a puny base of 30 and riding Superian almost everywhere, that she is quick, but only for a short sprint.

Great touch to see Teresa thinking on her feet with the lake. I guess those days at the Waterfront have come in useful, after all. One of the great things in Oblivion is that you can lead enemies into the water. I always love watching wolves paddle on the surface while I stand on the bottom of the lake. It is amazing what you can see....or what you think you can see.

"You're a girl!" Teresa gasped with wide eyes.
Oh no, Teresa has been saved by a lovely lass. That, my friends, is very, very dangerous....

Ah, a perfectly logical explanation for why the bandits of Cyrodiil are better equipped than the Legion.

I agree with Acadian, it would be interesting to see Teresa undergo the metamorphoses into Imperial Legionary. Given the respect that she has gained for the Legion of late, I cannot dismiss the possibility. However, I don’t see her dragging around Legion armor when her talents are ideally suited to be a forester.

Verlox: Teresa has certainly had many surprises since meeting the Emperor!


haute ecole rider: I did add a few extra details this time, such as the source of the bandit's armor, Raven making an appearance, etc...


D.Foxy: Well, as I understand it, no steel dagger is going to penetrate steel plate, unless you get it into a joint between pieces. ES of course has better than steel materials to think about too. I am sure Dwarven steel is better than the regular stuff, Elven better than Dwarven, etc... So I can certainly see something of higher quality penetrating something of lower, especially if several magnitudes are involved (say Ebony against ordinary steel).

But that is not what Teresa would be getting a dagger for. It would be for parrying, just as in the TF 1.0. Which is why I was looking at left hand daggers. She has magic to attack with. Or at least she will. She is never going to be a classic melee fighter. She has too many other skill sets that she needs to work in.

Bolo balls and the steel spear are a neat ideas, but far too exotic for the TF. I am opting out of even a swordbreaker for the same reason. I want the TF to be very down to Nirn in feel.

However, your rondel will appear in the hands of someone else in the next few chapters... I also made it the standard dagger in the Imperial Legion, and for most knights too.


Acadian: She will definitely begin summoning things within 100 segments. Probably within 10 chapters (although that may be the same thing, with as big as my new chapters tend to be).

Recruit Teresa? Let's see how would that go: Puffing herself up and putting her hands on her hips, Teresa attempted her best impression of a Legion soldier. "We're here to serve, citizen."

Legionary Teresa 1

Legionary Teresa 2

You have me imaging Teresa and Buffy in the Legion together. It would be like Laurel & Hardy! They would wind up shopping for shoes when they are supposed to be patrolling the Market District ("but I was patrolling inside of the shoe store!")


Winter Wolf: I always love luring enemies into the water. It is especially handy if you have water-walking.


Destri Melarg: I figure there were probably 20,000+ dremora corpses outside of Bruma, each wearing armor and carrying a sword or mace. Imagine trying to gather up every single suit before other "scavengers" got to them? I am sure a lot of both daedric and legion gear walked off that field.


Next: Teresa has learned her saviour was indeed a girl, and receives a proposition.


Chapter 23.6 – The Rider

When the last of the deserter's armor was stripped off, Valfreya packed it away into a pair of sacks and hung them across her horse's shoulders. Then she hoisted the deserter's corpse over her saddle and began tying it down as well. "I'm taking this piece of dung back to Castle Virtue," she explained as she pulled her helmet down over her features. "We'll find out who he was and where he came from. They probably have him listed as missing."

"Can your horse carry him?" Teresa thought aloud, looking at the large man and sacks full of heavy armor.

"My saddle has a Feather enchantment." The legionary began leading her horse through the meadow and back toward the road. "All of ours do. It's only a mild one, but it still takes a hundred pounds off. Besides, our mounts are bred to be strong."

"So what kind is he?" Teresa found herself asking as she watched the powerful muscles of the horse bunch and roll beneath its cream-colored hide.

Screenshot

"Justinian here? He's a Morganus." The Nord smiled through the slit in her helmet. "The knights like their high-stepping Friesians, but give me one of these Morgani any day. They are strong, tough, nimble, and good tempered."

The legionary turned to give the white gelding a pat on his broad neck, and he leaned over his head and tried to lick her face through the slit in her helmet. "Yes, I love you too," she laughed, barely dodging the horse's tongue before it slathered across one of her eyes. "Most of the Morgani are brown, bay, or black. But there are a few lighter ones like Justinian here."

Teresa tried to restrain a faint smile. The Nord obviously took good care of her horse, considering the affection he showed for her. That was all she needed to know that the legionary was a decent person.

"There are two more bandits up the road." Teresa gestured the way she had come from as they stepped onto the worn stones of the thoroughfare. "I don't think they were deserters though."

"I'd better get their gear too," Valfreya sighed.

Teresa stepped in front of the cavalrywoman to lead the way down the gently curving road, until finally they came upon the body of the hedge wizard. There was no sign of the Khajiit however, except for a wide pool of blood and one of Teresa's mithril-headed arrows on the pavestones.

"The other one must have gotten away." Teresa bit her lip as she stared at the bloody stones at her feet. "He must have had an antidote."

"Well, there's no catching him now," the legionary said. "It'll be dark soon, and this is his home ground. He can easily lose us in the forest, or set an ambush."

Teresa nodded, thinking of how she had escaped the conjurers at Belda in much the same manner. Picking up the arrow at her feet, she found its shaft was bent, doubtlessly by the bandit as he pulled it out of his body. Snapping the wooden shaft below the head, she wiped the mithril point clean on the grass and pocketed it. Mithril was much too expensive to leave laying around the wilderness, she thought. She could have a new arrow made with it in Bravil.

The glint of metal caught her eye, and she stepped to the landward side of the road. There before her was the bandit's axe, its face carved with delicate, interconnecting knots. Lifting it up, she handed the weapon to the legionary. "Looks like he dropped this."

"You put down two bandits?" the legionary marveled as she took the axe, "on the run?"

"Well, I stopped to shoot." Teresa offered as she reclaimed her arrow from the hedge wizard's corpse and inspected it for warping. "This one's a mage, so I don't think she had any real weapons. Her clothes might have a Shield enchantment on them though. Or it could have been a spell."

"You ever think of joining the legion?" the Nord asked as she rifled through the dead woman's pockets. "The Fifth is recruiting again. We could use good foresters. We lost a lot them at Kvatch and Bruma."

"Me?" Teresa coughed as her eyes flew wide. "I'm just a regular person is all."

"Regular people don't shoot a bandit dead and send another one scurrying off for his life. If you were an ordinary citizen I would be picking up your body right now, not his." Valfreya emphasized her words by jerking her thumb at the deserter's corpse.

Teresa tried to imagine herself in a legionary's armor, standing at attention beside Volsinius, marching in lock step, addressing people as 'sir' or 'citizen'. The very thought made her want to laugh, it was so ridiculous!

"I don't think so," Teresa muttered. First Baurus wanted her to be a spy, now the Legion wanted her to be a soldier! "You people have too many rules; always being told what to do all the time, how to look, what to wear, where to go, when to eat... I could never take it. I like doing what I want to, when I want to. Besides, I have things I need to do."

"Fair enough," Valfreya said as she loaded the rest of the bandit gear onto her horse. "You might try the Fighters Guild then, they need people as well. The way I hear it they lost a lot at Bruma too. It's a lot less rigid than the Legion, and no matter how good a fighter you are, they'll make you better. Pappy Vitellus runs the outfit down in Bravil. If you don't like rules, you'll like him, he never met one didn't break."

"Who's he?" Teresa's brow furrowed. The Fighters Guild? she thought. The idea of joining it had never crossed her mind. Could they really teach her something? Castle Magia and this recent battle had made it plain to her just how much she needed to learn if she was going to survive doing what she was.

"He's ex-legion, a primus pilus," Valfreya said as she slung the last of the bandit's gear on her horse's back. "He got run out by the damn parchment-pushers. Flattened a camp prefect with a right hook in High Rock is what I hear, and a legate in Black Marsh. Or maybe it was the other way round." The Nord winked through the slit of her helm, and Teresa had to stifle a faint smile. "One of the best damn combat leaders that ever lived though. When I was just a girl I saw the Emperor award him the Grass Crown."

A primus pilus, Teresa thought. If she remembered correctly, that was the highest ranking centurion in a Legion. The highest any plebian could go. She certainly knew what the Grass Crown was, especially after seeing Volsinius receive his from the hand of the High Chancellor himself. This Vitellus must be a real hero, Teresa thought. She wondered what Vols might say about him?

"I've got a long way to go Teresa," Valfreya said, pointing her horse toward the setting sun. "You think about what I said, and take care."

"You too!" Teresa said with a wave, watching the Nord lead her horse into the gathering darkness. It was so hard to believe that her life had just been saved by the Imperial Legion, twice now in fact. Yet just three months ago she could not have imagined a worse enemy. Life was so strange, the wood elf thought.

"Valfreya!" Teresa cried, sprinting down the road after the legionary.

"Here, take these," the forester said, drawing several healing potions from her belt and handing them to the Nord. "They might save your life someday."

"Justin Morgan had a horse !!!"


And the pond behind... A FISHING HOLE !!!!! Horses and fishing, can it get any better than that? ARGH !!!!


*

So this chapter is all about fish and horses?

Fish and Horses?

Why do I get the idea that theres a hidden meaning behind that? Just me? Right then.

Ah, its good to hear (so to speak) Pappy's name again. I'm hoping that he'll have some appearances and roles later on. (crosses fingers)

Justinian Morganus, huh? Good to see!

One item: Horses don't lick (like dogs do) except to make sure they got the last of the sugar out of your hand. But they don't go for faces like dogs do. However, they do show affection by lipping, which does the same thing for another horse like face-licking (or is that butt-licking) between dogs. I would modify that scene to have Justinian lipping at Valfreya's helm. Somehow I can't see her tolerating nipping with the teeth, though.

And a typo: Somehow an apostrophe thought it belonged in your possessive its.

Now how long is it going to take for Teresa to make her way to Bravil and meet Pappy? (my other favorite 'sausage' in the TF! YEAH!)

What a rich aftermath/cleanup! Simply delightful throughout.

Enchanting Legion saddles with feather is a wonderful idea! We've been toying with enchanting something to protect the horse from cold weather.

What a wonderful and true observation!

Teresa a Legion soldier? Sing with me: Little free elven spirit. . . dancing through the meadows under the watchful eye of her Raven, gathering stardust and nightshade in the moonlight . . . dropping her clothes upon finding a waterfall . . . Oh, Teresa, I think you're right; perhaps the legion is not suited to you.

Realizing that Pappy returned safely to Bravil, after the Battle of Bruma, brought more than a faint smile to my face! I hope his 2IC made it home as well.

And what a sweet ending, as our generous forester gives some of her potions to Valfreya.

Pappy! And also, Morganus...That one made me laugh. A good, albeit somewhat predictable chapter, but its good to see Teresa making peace with the Legion. And also, I agree with her, Teresa does not look good in armour. Just saying.

She can swing the armor without that helmet. The helmet was downright spooky.

Yeah, the helmet sort of...well its not a great fit.

Teresa should never cover up that red hair, or ever hide her face behind metal; she is striking in appearance. With that roman mane fringe sticking straight up over the pale of her face ... Ed Grimsley-ish.

The legion enchanting saddles with feather spells, like most things that you add to the mechanics of gameplay, seems so obvious that one is left to wonder why it didn’t just exist in the first place.

Now that I have remembered this chapter I knew that Teresa was going to be gently nudged toward Bravil. Giving us those earlier chapters with Pappy at the Battle of Bruma makes it feel as if we are about to be reunited with old friends. I for one can’t wait to reacquaint myself with a certain orc.

mALX: As usual I was grappling with the horror of coming up with a name. After rejecting everything that came to mind, I remembered Justin Morgan. I am glad someone got the little homage.


ureniashtram: Pappy will indeed be turning up soon, chapter 26 is named after him in fact.


haute ecole rider: I got the idea for Justinian licking after seeing this forum page, where a number of people describe their horses doing it. So I am going to keep it.

Just a few more chapters for Teresa to get to Bravil. She has to make a stop at the Faregyl on the way, and then we will take a look in on her the people dearest to her back in the Imperial City.


Acadian: Perhaps Superian could use a saddle blanket enchanted with Resist Frost?

I loved your little wood elf song/poem! Did you adapt that from something else? Or come up with it all on your own? It is quite perfect for either of our elves I think. Except Buffy's would need a mention of a horse.


Linara: Morganus was actually Haute's idea to give it a more setting-appropriate feel. Quite right on her part I think. I simply followed her lead by changing Justin to Justinian.

Teresa has certainly come quite a way in her feelings for the Imperial Legion. One of the purposes of that chapter was to illustrate just that.


Destri Melarg: The feather saddles strike me as something common all across Tamriel. All good saddles would have it. The same with wagons, backpacks, chests, etc... Just another example of how in a real world, magic would be used for mundane purposes rather than just killing people. Feather strikes me as one of the most useful consumer spells there is, just behind cure disease and healing. Because I like round numbers, I decided to make the Novice level Feather 100 lbs, and then have it increase by another 100 every magnitude of skill. So a really good one would take 400-500 lbs off!

Another voice for the FG? I am glad I added that chapter on the Battle of Bruma, and spent so much time on them there. I was hoping that by the time the story moved to Bravil, it would create a change in how we view Pappy et al. I am glad it worked!


Next: After surviving an encounter with bandits and meeting a female legionary, Teresa now plunges south into the depths of The Nibenay Valley, enroute to Bravil.


Chapter 24.1 – The Faregyl Inn

19th Last Seed, 3E433

Teresa's journey south passed without danger. Staying away from the road, she plunged through the forest heading south. Or at least in the direction she thought was south. It was difficult to tell under the green canopy of trees. As always, she never once worried about becoming lost. She knew she would get to where she needed to be sooner or later, and in the meantime the forest had plenty of alchemical treasures to reward her roving eyes.

It was only three days after the ambush when she smelled the sweet smoke of burning wood. Three days with no other signs of civilization. Just her, the trees, and the animals. As much as she had enjoyed the peace and stillness of the forest, she found herself looking forward to the taste of warm food and a soft bed, not to mention a hot bath! The Bloom spell that Nerussa had taught her cleaned her just as well as a real bath did. Yet it did not have the same feeling as laying back in a steaming tub of hot water and letting it ease away the stiffness of her limbs, or reveling in the smooth scent of vanilla soaking into her skin.

With that thought in mind Teresa followed her nose, and soon enough she found a wide, paved road heading in what she was imagined was north to south. It must be the Green Road, she thought. It was the only one her map showed running from Bravil to the Imperial City. Then again, she thought, she had never been south of Lake Rumare either. So there was no telling for certain.

Remembering the last time she had been upon one of the roads, Teresa slowly inched forward through the brush up to its edge. There she carefully scanned the wood to either side of the thoroughfare for signs of anything being out place. At the same time she listened for any noise that might indicate another person nearby.

Glancing up, she noticed that she was crouched only a foot from a sign that towered high over her head. It had been concealed by the brush from the forest side, but stood plain as day to anyone on the road itself. Its thick wooden planks pointed out the directions to the Imperial City, Bravil, and Leyawiin.

Screenshot

Teresa looked at it with a faint smile. She had guessed her directions correctly. Even after spending a lifetime in the city, she was getting good at this forester trade. It all just seemed to come naturally. All she had to do was listen to her intuition, use common sense, and follow the ravens.

Satisfied that she was indeed alone, she stepped forth with wary eyes and scampered across the hard pavestones of the road. A moment later she was back within the dense greenery of the forest and a feeling of relief washed over her. She knew that she was being overly-paranoid. There were not really bandits hiding behind every tree after all. The only trouble was knowing which ones…

Teresa saw that a wide, dirt path led away from the main road in the same direction that the smell of smoke was coming from. Staying in the woods near the path, she set off along the same route. She soon found the land sloping down under her feet, and picked her steps with care to avoid tripping over the ivy that crept along the ground between the tall cottonwoods.

The sound of wood clacking together came to her ears. It was almost rhythmical, as if some strange forest musician were playing a tune on a pair of sticks. Then she heard faint voices, and smelled horses, or their leavings to be more precise.

Moments later the forest opened into a large clearing, and she found herself staring downhill at a large daub and wattle building. Its wide, peaked roof was made of thatch, and a thin trail of blue smoke wafted from its chimney. She could see that the dirt road led directly to it, and split off to also go to a corral larger than the building itself. It was there that she saw a dozen wagons and twice that many horses, all waiting quietly within the wooden beams that hemmed them in.

Screenshot

The author of the strange wooden music also became clear to the wood elf. It was two men fighting with wooden swords outside of the corral. Or at least they were pretending to fight, she thought. One of them was a Breton with closely-cropped brown hair, and he was counting out numbers as they slowly moved their practice swords from one position to the next. The other was an olive-skinned Nibenean, and he was silent as he smoothly followed the other man's lead.

Teresa stepped forward to get a closer view. It seemed like a dance, something she might see in a theater, not practicing for combat. Every move was done with grace, and flowed cleanly into the next so that no motion was wasted. She marveled at how they could keep their balance in each move. It was as if their feet and hands were linked, so that the movement of the former enabled the motion of the latter.

The eyes of the Breton flashed on Teresa. He whispered something to the other man, and suddenly they exploded into furious action. Their wooden blades flew back and forth against one another so quickly that the wood elf could scarcely follow them. It was a constant stream of attack, parry, riposte, and counter again as each man strove against the next.

Finally the Breton stepped closer to the Imperial, inside the range of their wooden swords. One of his feet slipped behind the other man's ankle, and after a shove the Imperial was laying flat on his back in the dirt.

"Hah!" the man on the ground laughed as the Breton extended his hand to help him up. "You couldn't beat me fair, so you cheated!"

"When it's for real, your enemy won't fight fair either," the brown-haired man said in that soft, somewhat lilting tone that all Bretons seemed to have. Teresa loved that sound, it was almost musical how they spoke. It reminded her of Claudette from The Gilded Carafe, or most of the residents of Weye.

Then the Breton turned back to Teresa and looked her directly in the eye.

"Now let's take a bow for our audience," he said, gracefully bending at the waist with his arms held wide apart, as if he were an actor on stage. The other man followed suit, albeit with less beauty.

"That was amazing!" Teresa proclaimed with a faint smile as she stepped closer to where the men stood. "I cannot believe how you two can do that with those swords!"

"Oh, it just takes practice," the Nibenean muttered, "lots of practice."

"Welcome to The Faregyl Inn stranger," the Breton said with a smile. "I am Alix Lencolia, swordmaster and all-around handy man. My friend here is the esteemed Sir Lucius Salvius, Knight of the Order of Saint Martin, and one of the finest swordsmen in Cyrodiil."

"Oh, my," Teresa looked upon both men with widening eyes. A swordmaster, and a knight! She thought, and they were both talking to her as if she was an equal. "I'm Teresa, um, archer, potion-maker, and explorer."

"It is an honor, milady Teresa," the Nibenean said solemnly. Before she knew it, he took her hand and bowed to gently kiss her fingers. "I am your humble servant."

Teresa felt her cheeks turn warm as her heart skipped a beat. By the Nine, did he just kiss her hand! She marveled. He was a knight after all, and she was a… whatever she was. She knew she should say something witty, or at least something gracious. Yet when she opened her mouth, nothing came forth.

Valerius had been a knight too, the wood elf thought to herself, and he had done quite a bit more than kiss her hand! Yet that seemed different somehow. Perhaps because Nerussa had been there? Or maybe it was just that talking had not been important in Nerussa's bedroom…

"Oh go on now Lucius!" the Breton laughed, rescuing Teresa from her moment of awkwardness. "Only a knight for a week and you are already at it with the ladies. Why don't you come inside with us Teresa, and try some of S'jirra's potato bread? I think we could use a little break."

"Hey, I have to practice sometime, and Abhuki just does not make for a maiden most fair, if you know what I mean." Teresa heard the Imperial's voice ring out behind her as Alix led her through the back door of the inn.

One of the things I love about Teresa - she is a complex paradox of emotions inside - there is nothing coy whatsoever about her, she is 100% genuine.

I personally was licked by a little Thoroughbred filly by the name of "Kankakee Miss." She had a salt lick in her stall, it was not for my salty personality she was licking me. I've seen mares lick their foals quite a bit as well, so it is either grooming or affection.

They do lip as well, usually in more of a play-type gesture - if you are wearing a hat and a horse is lipping you, your hat will be removed next, count on it. - same thing if you have a comb or brush sticking out of your back pocket - and don't expect to retrieve the item easily, it is on once they get hold of it.

Again a familiar segment, with some improvements. I really enjoyed meeting Alix yet again in this story, as well as Sir Salvius.

As for the licking, it is not something I've observed as being natural for horses to do - rather, it is an acquired behavior and seems to happen mostly where the owner/handler offers the horse treats on a regular basis, then finds the licking for more treats so charming the horse starts doing it as a behavior to elicit treats or other signs of favor from the handler. Makes me wonder who's training whom.

Some horses will do it on their own, but I've seen it mostly in those horses that expect treats every time they interact with people. It's simple Pavlovian reflex. Many horsemasters (not horsemen) discourage treats and licking because it is such a thin line between licking (or lipping) and biting, which is not acceptable with people, as it so easily can become dangerous. I have heard stories of stallions biting fingers off their handlers because they were encouraged/permitted in the licking/lipping behavior. I've never been consistent with treats, and I only provide treats after a good ride, not every time I interact with the horse, so they don't lick me. They also don't crowd around me in the pasture (another inherently dangerous situation) because I don't encourage it. I learned this from friends who have kept stallions for many years, and also learned this from a stallion who was more mouthy than usual. He learned very quickly from me that that kind of behavior was not tolerated, though we enjoyed each other's company quite well (I was his vet student for two weeks, and spent quite a bit of time grooming him and hitting all his itchy spots). He respected me enough to quit with the lipping/nipping business within a day. But he still pulled that crap on other vet students who didn't know better or were easily intimidated by him.

From the forum you sent me to, I figure that most of the horses mentioned here are accustomed to treats every time they interact with people, hence the Pavlovian reflex. And these folks doing the postings think it's cute, where I see dangerous situations everywhere, because it is such a fine line between being mouthy (i.e. licking or lipping) and nipping/biting. And if you've ever been bit by a horse, you know it's not pleasant!

I just figure Valfreya would know better than to allow her horse to lick at her face, as it can lead to a dangerous situation with him. I have a hard time seeing an experienced horsewoman/horsemaster (as I would assume Valfreya to be) allowing such a dangerous situation to develop with her horse, especially since they are out in the wilderness on their own.

My own horses had their own ways of showing affection, and one of their favorites was rubbing their heads on me, and another was sticking their noses in my face and blowing on me (but not nipping or licking). Blowing on each other's noses is really a way for horses to greet each other. As for mares licking their foals, every mammalian mother does that with their babies - dogs, cats, horses, cattle, etc. Has to do with drying them off after birth. I would call it grooming for that reason.

What is natural for horses sometimes can be hard to differentiate from what comes with training or interactions with people. Feral horses don't lick each other so much, though when grooming they do use their lips and teeth quite a bit (called 'withering') to scratch each other's itchy spots. That is what equine BFF's do with each other. That's how I befriend horses - I find their itchy spots and really dig in. They love me forever for that! My friend's stallion (and my own gelding) enjoyed this habit of mine so much that they would 'present' me with their withers whenever I approached them.

And mALX is right, lipping is a play gesture - and once they grab something, it's game on!

My point is, all the experienced horsemasters I know don't allow their horses to get mouthy (licking, lipping or nipping) with them period. Around the face, absolutely not. And if Valfreya is more than just a legionary on horseback, she also would not allow Justinian to lick her face like that (not to mention that horses don't like sticking their tongues into such narrow slits, either). But there are other ways for Justinian to show his affection for her, like nudging her with his head (as Superian did with Buffy when she wanted water) or blowing into her neck (like mine loved to do).

Old business: The little 'song' for Teresa was simply my own vision of one of our elves prancing through a meadow at night.


Poor Teresa. At least she didn't say 'um, stringy wood elf and former street urchin at large'. It was great fun being inside her head as she interacted with Alix and Lucius.

This entire episode was a lovely indulgence into description, with far too many delightful passages to quote. Teresa really brings us with her into the forest as she makes her way from the Imperial City to the Faregyl Inn. Staying off the roads makes perfect sense for her (regardless of what the Imperial Legion says about staying on the roads if you've got to travel.)

I'm so pleased you are not rushing Teresa along, but allowing plenty of time for her to pick the flowers and experience Cyrodiil.

What's wrong with kissing furry hands?

Next, I hope she will indeed enjoy some of everyone's favorite potato bread.

Ah..Faregyl Inn. I love that place, and how easy it was to get those potatoes back from the trolls/ogres/what have you.


Sounds like someones about to be competed for...

Next: Teresa gets better acquainted with some of the residents of the Faregyl.

Chapter 24.2 – The Faregyl Inn

Within was a storeroom filled with barrels of ale, jugs of wine, sacks of flour, and all manner of jars and crates. Alix quickly navigated through the jumble of goods and led Teresa through another door that brought her into the large kitchen of the inn. Long tables stretched along two of the walls, and a great oven of bricks took up part of a third, flanked by an equally large wood-burning stove. Across the room from the stove were several large chests, which Teresa imagined might be frost-boxes.

Standing at one of the tables chopping carrots was a Khajiit with golden fur. She was dressed in simple tan work-clothes, and her hair was tied up into numerous brass triangles that were held together by brightly-colored ribbons.

Screenshot

"We have a visitor S'jirra!" Alix proclaimed as Lucius moved past him and through another door. Through its swinging boards Teresa could see what must have been the inn's common room, as it was filled with people eating and drinking. "This is Teresa, and she is someone special I should say."

"Oh my!" The Khajiit turned and her jaw dropped open when she set her eyes upon Teresa. "You look just like her!"

"Ummm, good day." Teresa's eyes darted from the Khajiit to the Breton. Now that his friend was gone, even the swordmaster had begun to stare at her. She took a step back the way she had come. Just what had she walked into? and why were they looking at her like she was a ghost?

"Alix, for a moment this one could have sworn it was her!" S'jirra breathed, her eyes practically glowing as they stared at Teresa.

"Yes, I thought the same thing too," the Breton sighed as he stepped nearer to the Khajiit and put a comforting arm around her. The Khajiit pressed against him. Her head fell to his shoulder, and he dropped his stare to kiss her once on her scalp. If it were not for their strange looks at her, Teresa would have found it to be very sweet and romantic. But instead she felt her hackles rising at the bizarreness of it all.

"Please forgive us, we mean you no harm," Alix said in that soothing voice of the Bretons. "I know this must seem odd, but you look just like our daughter. We have not seen her in years. We do not even know where she is, or how she is."

Screenshot

"Oh yes, this one is so sorry!" The Khajiit stepped away from the Breton, and with the cat-like quickness of her race she was standing in front of Teresa an instant later. "You must think we are all terribly strange. Please come sit with me while this one makes stew, and we can speak. Alix, get her something to drink, and fetch a stool for this poor girl."

With that the Khajiit was dragging Teresa across the room to a seat that the Breton almost magically produced, followed by a glass of wine. S'jirra herself brought over a loaf of bread which Teresa could see still steamed from the oven. The smell of potatoes filled her nostrils as the Khajiit cut her a piece and offered it to her.

"Here, try some of this one's famous potato bread," she said.

"So, you two have a daughter?" Teresa said, looking from the Breton to the Khajiit. She had no idea that the cat-folk could even have children with the other races.

Then she took a bite of the hot potato bread and for a moment she forgot everything else. The taste in her mouth was far too good to be simply bread. She had scarcely tasted anything so delicious outside of a few stolen sweetrolls, only this was not sweet and sugary. She was not sure exactly what it tasted like, but it was more than just potatoes. She thought there must be spices like rosemary and basil in it as well, but could not be sure. Teresa closed her eyes and savored the bread before swallowing, then chased the lovely flavor with a sip of wine.

"That was incredible!" she breathed afterward, looking at S'jirra, "how did you make that?"

"That is this one's secret," the Khajiit declared. Her ears perked up and tail floated high with pleasure. She looked as if she was almost preening, and something told Teresa that she had said just the right thing.

"People come from near and far for S'jirra's potato-bread," Alix declared with a smile. "Maxical used to love it too. She is our daughter, we adopted her when she was a little kit."

"Oh, so you adopted her," Teresa said. Now things were making more sense. The forester reached for more of the bread, but stopped herself when she realized that she had not asked first. For a moment she was afraid S'jirra would object, but instead the Khajiit beamed with what could only be pride as she pushed the entire loaf of bread in front of her. "I'm an orphan too, I never knew who my real parents were. Is she a wood elf too?"

"Oh no, she is a Khajiit," S'jirra explained as she went back to cutting vegetables and throwing them into a steaming pot over the stove. "But she's snow white, just like you. Except her hair, that's red as fire, same as yours."

"Oh, oh my," Teresa said as her hand reflexively drifted to her scarlet tresses. Somehow that tickled something in the back of her mind, yet she could not place what it was. "I did not know there were white Khajiit?"

"There aren't," Alix answered. "Maxical is one of a kind, that is for sure. The gods broke the mold after they made her."

"And a good thing too, the world could not survive two like that one!" S'jirra laughed as she stirred the pot of stew.

"Did she wear her hair in braids, with a headband?" Teresa thought out loud, wondering why that image had suddenly leaped into her mind.

Teresa heard a crash from behind her, as the clay cup from which Alix had been drinking shattered on the floor. The wood elf nearly jumped from her seat, but the wide-eyed stare that both he and S'jirra gave her made her pause.

"You've seen her!" S'jirra cried. Once again she moved with that blinding Khajiit speed, and just like that she was grasping Teresa by the arms, her eyes pleading for an answer.

"I…" Teresa stammered. She tried to remember where that image - no, that memory - had come from. Then she had it. "It was in the Market District of the Imperial City, at the end of Second Seed."

"Did she say anything? How did she look?" Now Alix was by her side as well, laying his hand upon her shoulder. Under any other circumstances Teresa would have jumped. But the emotion was so raw in their voices, and their eyes such a contrast of sparkling hope and empty dread, that she felt her heart tear itself open for them. Teresa wondered if this was how Simplicia felt when she went into the forts and Ayleid ruins?

"She looked well," Teresa said. It was true, but even if it had not been she would have said the same thing. She could see how much the Breton and Khajiit needed to hear that their daughter was safe and sound. She would not dream of saying otherwise. "She looked muscular. Not big, but she was solid, in good shape, like a fighter."

"It was early in the morning, so there was hardly anyone else on the street." Teresa went on, trying to recapture every moment from her fleeting encounter with the snow white Khajiit. "I saw her hair and I said it looked good on her. I remember she said we looked like twins. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now I see what she meant. Then I walked by, and that was it. Now I wished I had stayed and tried to talk to her more. She seemed… kind, like a good person. Do you know what I mean?"

Then S'jirra was enfolding her in a warm embrace, and Teresa did not know what else to say. Even though she could hear the Khajiit was crying, Teresa had the feeling that her tears were not a bad thing at all.

You brought tears to my eyes the first time I read this, it is still just as good. You brought the Faregyl, Alix, and S'Jirra to life. Teresa is as dear and deep a character as anyone could create - Awesome Write Sage Rosa !!! Just Awesome!!!

I remember when I first read this that it was one of the best crossovers I've ever read (and there's been quite a few, if EYE may say so ). I still feel that way - you've captured Maxical's spirit through Teresa's interactions with her adoptive parents. Beautiful!

I've said it before - Perhaps young wood elves are at their best when used as vessels to bring out the wonderful nature of those around them. Teresa certainly does that here. A delightful episode, and beautifully done.

Thanks for the yummy 'tato bread and wine!

Even if it had not been true. . . You made this one smile at the young elf's wisdom and consideration for others.

Since much of Maxical is written in first person, it was neat to get Teresa's impression of her as a tough little scrapper. We tend to forget sometimes that she is quite the little swordskitty - and in Alix, we are reminded where she gets it.

A good chapter. You brought those characters to life in a way that the game never can. Good job.

All: This was one of my favorite chapters to write. Not only did I get to do a semi-crossover (with the character in question not actually appearing, but being referenced), but I was able to use it to put a spotlight on Teresa's own relationship with Simplicia. Not mention just being able to do some chick-writing.


Next: we wrap up this chapter, as Teresa sends a letter home.


Chapter 24.3 – The Faregyl Inn

The sun had long since fallen over the horizon by the time Teresa made her way to the room she had rented for the night at the inn. S'jirra and Alix had spent nearly the entire afternoon and evening regaling her with stories of their daughter's misadventures, first at home as a child and then later when she was a student at the Arcane University. Each escapade was more hilarious and unbelievable than the next, and they even showed her the letters from Raminus Polus to prove them.

Yet as cheerful and lighthearted as the tales were, Teresa could not help but to see how much they missed their little kit, as they called her. It was sunken into the pools of their eyes, pregnant within every long silence, and laden in every glance at an empty chair.

Again, she wondered if this was what it was like for Simplicia every time she went on her expeditions? With that in mind Teresa asked for parchment, ink, and a quill as the evening drew to a close. When her newfound friends learned why she wanted them, they were produced as magically as Alix had procured her a seat and glass of wine in the kitchen.

So with quill in hand, she sat at the small table in her tiny room with several pieces of blank parchment before her. Drawing her oil lamp closer to the page to better see by, she tried to think of what to say. Yet somehow the words did not seem to come. What was she going to say?

Finally, she closed her eyes and just remembered Simplicia. She thought of all the times as a child that the old woman had brought her a crust of bread to eat and a cup of goat's milk. She remembered how Simplicia would hold her when she cried and gently hum in her ear. She remembered all those times she had yelled at her for being too wild when she was off with Methredhel and Adanrel. She remembered holding the old woman when she had told her the truth about being maimed, and her following skooma addiction.

Teresa opened her eyes and began to write.

Dearest mother,

I am sitting in the Faregyl Inn writing you to let you know that I am safe and well. I am half way to Bravil now, and should be there in less than a week. So far my journey has been uneventful, and the only excitement was a meeting I had with a legionary on the road.

She was a woman! I did not know they had women in the legion, but she told me that there were quite a few actually. I guess I just never noticed under all that armor they wear. She said I should join the legion as a forester. She told me they need people now badly, as many died in the battles during the Crisis. Can you imagine me in the Imperial Legion!

Valfreya, that is her name, mentioned the Fighter's Guild too. She said they were recruiting as well, and they would train me and make me better at what I do. I never thought of it before, but I think I might do just that. I know you think I am reckless sometimes, but I really do try to be careful. If they can teach me how to be smarter and better at how I do things, then I think it will be worth it.

Once I am in Bravil I will start looking for the Ayleid sites I talked about when I left. I know the ones I need to find are somewhere down here in the southeastern part of Cyrodiil, so I still think Bravil is the best place to stay while I look. There might even be people in the Mages Guild there that can help me. Herminia said that there is an Altmer in Bravil who is studying the Ayleid ruin of Anutwyll, which is right outside of the city. So I am hoping he will know more. See how careful I am being? I am learning all I can before I even go inside them. Maybe this Altmer will even come with me? Having a University wizard at my side would make it a lot safer I am sure!

I met some wonderful people here at the inn. It is filled with a caravan heading north. They say that bandits are becoming a problem on the roads, so merchants are starting to pool together like this when they travel and hire bodyguards to protect them. I have not seen any bandits myself though, so I am not sure if it's really that dangerous. But maybe if I do join the Fighter's Guild I might work some of these caravans, that way I can come back to see you and get paid for it at the same time. Wouldn't that be something, to be paid just to travel?

But I was going to say how the people I met here are so kind and generous. S'jirra is one of the cat-people, and she makes the most incredible bread! You would not even believe it is bread at all from the taste of it. It is like something that the patricians probably eat. I will bring some with me the next time I come back. I think she is married to a man named Alix. He is a very kind Breton. Apparently he's a famous swordmaster, although I have never heard of him. I saw him teaching a knight when I arrived.

Oh, and I met a real knight! and he kissed my hand like I was a lady! I did not know what to even say. His name is Sir Lucius something-or-another. I forget his family name. He is part of that new Order of Saint Martin the Chancellor created to protect travelers on the roads. I am sure that the Emperor Martin would be glad to know that people like him are out helping other folk in his name. I know his father, the Emperor Uriel, would be proud.

S'jirra and Alix both have a daughter named Maxical that they told me all about, and I think I actually met her in the Imperial City a few months ago, when I first came back from prison. Of course I did not know it was her at the time. She has white skin just like me, and red hair too. I did not tell them that I dye mine red, hah! hah! They told me all about Maxical this afternoon, and how she got into all kinds of trouble playing pranks at the Arcane University. But I can tell they really miss her and wish that she was home.

That made me think of you. I know you do not like me going off like this to Bravil, and putting myself in danger. But I promise it will not be for long. Know that I am doing everything I can to stay safe and out of harm. I will write you once I get to there so you know I am well. They tell me the post can be a little slow on the roads, so do not worry if it takes a while for the letter to come. You might even get the one from Bravil first, because I think they carry it by a ship from there.

I miss you, and hope I can come back to see you again in the city soon. I thank Mara for bringing us together. You are the best mother a girl could ever hope for.

I love you with all my heart,
Teresa

This has always been one of my fave chapters as well. The first time I read it back on the BGSF, when she started the letter "Dearest mother" - it brought tears.

Teresa may have only a faint smile, but she brings beaming smiles from those who love her. (us readers). She has such depth of feelings that one can't help but love her.

I second mALX.

Yes, that "Dearest mother -" salutation grabbed me from the get-go the first time around (and I'm not even a mother), and it still brings a pang to my heart the second time around.

Ah, back from the Holiday Wars! Nothing says 'family' like fisticuffs over stuffed turkey!

Chapter 24.1 – The Faregyl Inn

The sparring match at the Faregyl reminded me of the immortal scene from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid:


And Teresa . . . rendered speechless! By a man!! Will wonders never cease?!

Chapter 24.2 – The Faregyl Inn

This is one of the chapters that stand out to me in the TF. You show a great deal of range going from the epic grandeur of the Battle of Bruma and the Oblivion Crisis in the Imperial City to this small, intimate chapter of dialogue between three individuals in the Faregyl Inn. Even on this second reading, when Alix drops his wine I could feel the chills traveling up my back. Bravo, SageRosa!

Chapter 24.3 – The Faregyl Inn

Every once in a while you read something that makes you shake your head with admiration, even as you gnash your teeth with envy. This paragraph:

Has my head shaking and my teeth gnashing!

I also love how in Teresa’s letter she spares Simplicia the worrisome details of her encounter with the legionary. And I also notice that she lies to her about not seeing bandits.

Another lovely episode.

'He is part of that new Order of Saint Martin the Chancellor created to protect travelers on the roads. I am sure that the Emperor Martin would be glad to know that people like him are out helping other folk in his name. I know his father, the Emperor Uriel, would be proud.'
I quite like how you translated events that have happened in TF into logical and reasonable impacts. It makes so much sense that after his mortal heroics, there would be a noble order named after Martin!

Teresa's letter was wonderful. With as much storytelling and speechtagging as we do to include natural actions and pauses into dialogue, it is difficult to write a letter, where one assumes your character thinks before they write and perhaps even proofs (dare I say. . . edits ) their written word. The first letter I wrote in BF required many drafts, so my envy of your results comes from my own frustrating experience. You did a great job here at capturing Teresa's voice in the letter, while making it indeed sound like a letter, and not dialogue. Well done!

Wow, very nice. We see Teresa taking responsibility for reassurance, and we know the pain that the odd couple bear from the loss of their kit. You bring the whole thing to life, adding those small, realistic details that make the world a bigger, more interesting place.

That will always be one of my favorite moments in the TF.

The explanation for the scarcity of Legion riders is a nice bit of world building- the Oblivion Crisis had consequences that are still being felt. The revelation that the bandit is former Legion and Teresa’s immediate thought of Vols are both interesting. He is almost as central to her life as Simplicia.



And now Teresa and Valfreya are even- though I imagine Teresa was simply being literal.

Again, the way you prepare for Teresa’s entry into the Fighters Guild is wonderfully complex. Membership in the TF is not a whim or an after-thought- it actually has responsibilities and consequences.

The ending of the chapter is wonderful- Teresa’s impulsive gesture of good will shows how much she has grown.

Hooray for the Faregyl- and Alix and S’jirra!



There was a moment in Roger Zelazney’s (ph) Princes of Amber series where Corwin explained his philosophy about fighting. Paraphrasing liberally: “It isn’t a game, and I fight to win.”

Teresa’s awkwardness as she realizes she is neither street urchin nor fine lady- (I started to use a more colloquial phrase, but my double entendre radar warned me off)- was a treat. There is a comfort in knowing one’s “station” and an equal discomfort in uncertainty. The other bit of information, almost lost in the shuffle, is Lucius’ appreciation of Teresa as a “maiden most fair.”

The whole scene as Alix and S’jirra stare at Maxical’s “doppelganger” is sad and sweet and wonderful. That is especially true as Teresa is able to see Simplicia’s fear and worry in the eyes of these other parents.

The letter was a masterpiece- I wonder how well Simplicia can read between the lines…

mALX & haute ecole rider: The" Dearest Mother" part always gets to me too. I was channeling my estrogen pretty heavily there. For this whole chapter really.


Destri Melarg: Your mention of fisticuffs over turkey has me thinking of dusting off some of my holiday movies, like Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, or Pieces of April.

I am glad you liked that one gnashing part. I put a great deal of time and effort into those few sentences.

Isn't it great how Teresa lies about anything that might even hint at her being in danger? Something she learned not long after she started hanging out with Methredhel I am sure!


Acadian: The letter was difficult to write, as I had to change gears from my normal style of writing prose to "letter style". I wanted to make sure it kept that "I'm writing a letter" voice through it all. The letter also received quite a bit of reworking for the TF 2.0 as well, to bring up up to date with new things.


Linara: One thing Teresa has always been good at is trying to make other people's lives better. To the point of breaking promises and outright meddling if she has to.


treydog: I always loved that "You're a girl!" bit as well. I had to work so hard to avoid Teresa noticing any female soldiers in all the new material just so I could keep it there. And yes, Teresa was just being literal about stopping to shoot. She is completely out of her depth when it comes to verbal sparring and stunning repartee.

You are spot on about Teresa's uncertainly over where she belongs socially. It is something I have been thinking about lately in fact. Technically she is still a member of the proletariat, as she does not own property, or even have a permanent address. Yet in the last few months she has made more money through dungeon diving than most plebians who do own land make in a year. So by the latter scale she could be considered an equite, the highest class of commoners.

And yes, I am sure that Simplicia is far better at reading between the lines that Teresa would like!


Next: While Teresa continues on her way to Bravil, Simplicia has her own adventure back in the Imperial City.


Chapter 25.1 – Unfriendly Competition

19th - 20th Last Seed, 3E433

"It's deader than the Reman Emperors in here," Jensine grumbled. The emptiness of the shop around her betrayed the truth in her words. The middle-aged Nord closed her eyes and rubbed her lined temples. She clenched her teeth with a grimace, and reached for a glass of water.

"That headache is back again, isn't it?" Simplicia asked, already knowing the answer as she moved to cover some of the glowstones in their wall-sconces. "I'll go grind up some more of that ginkgo, and you can have it with some milk."

Jensine sat heavily in the chair behind the counter while Simplicia went about her work. She was still there when the aging Imperial plodded back with a mortar filled with fine green powder in one hand, and glass of cow's milk in the other. The Nord took them from Simplicia without a word. Taking a moment to down the ground gingko leaf, she chased the powder with the milk and leaned back in her chair.

"Ever since the Crisis these damn headaches just won't leave me alone," the Nord grumbled as she returned to massaging her temples. "Of course that fetcher Thoronir isn't making it any easier."

"You still think he's a fence?" Simplicia offered, sliding into a chair beside the Nord with a creaking of old bones. She took a moment to massage her knees. All that walking didn't do them any good, she thought. Damn stonejoint, she silently cursed. It had been nearly five years since Teresa had cured it with a potion, and still her joints felt like they were stiff as a board.

Teresa, where are you now cherry blossom? On the road to Bravil? Mara protect you, the old woman thought, and save you from your own damn foolishness.

"That dreck he's selling has got to be stolen," Jensine grumbled. "There's no other way he could afford to sell it so cheap. Maybe that tribune Lex down on the Waterfront is right, and there really is a Grey Fox. That little fetcher Thoronir might just be him too! Who knows, maybe that Lex would actually listen, instead of that lazy bounder Audens Avidius we have here in the Market District."

Simplicia had to stifle a smile. If only you knew! she thought. It still amazed her how many pedites, equites, and patricians thought the Grey Fox was hoax. Every prole knew the reality. If it were not for thieves in need for eyes and ears on the street she and Teresa probably would have starved.

So how was it that she found herself on the opposite side of the street? It still seemed strange, Simplicia thought, working in a shop, having a roof over her head and a bed to sleep on - even if just in the basement storeroom. To think it was all because of the Daedra attacking the city!

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off Simplicia," Jensine sighed. She rose to her feet and made her way to the stair leading up to the second floor. "We may as well just close up for the rest of the afternoon. I think I'll go upstairs and lay down for a while."

"Want me to help you with the stairs?" Simplicia's knees protested as she climbed to her feet. Getting old was just not fair, she thought to herself, not fair at all.

"No, if I fall, I'll just take you with me, then where will we be!" Jensine chuckled. Placing one hand against the wall to steady herself, the Nord slowly made her way up the stairs while she held her head with her free hand.

That clannfear took a lot out of her, Simplicia thought as she watched the shopkeeper totter up the steps. Whoever would have thought that beating the monster on the head would crack your own skull open? No, life was just not fair at all.

* * *

The Copious Coinpurse was busy with customers as Simplicia made her way along the racks of clothing near the front door. Velvet, lace, and fine linen, she noted. All of it the price of wool and flax. Then she came upon a jewelry case and stared at the necklaces, rings, earrings, and other gemstones within. All going for half what they were worth.

How could he afford it? Simplicia wondered as she stared at the blond wood elf behind the counter. He was short for a man, shorter than even she was. Yet he made up for his lack of height with girth. The elderly Imperial imagined that his round stomach must weigh more than she did all on its own. He was clearly not going hungry from his low prices.

Who was giving him such a good deal for it all? Simplicia wondered as she looked around the shop. All manner of things were for sale, but most of it seemed to be clothing, shoes, and jewelry. Still, there were a few weapons, statuettes of various gods, some vases and urns, and other assorted knick knacks.

He could not really be working for the Thieves Guild, could he? They had always been too smart to do anything so obvious. She was surprised that the tribune Jensine had complained to was ignoring it. Unless he was being paid to look the other way? But how could Thoronir come up with the money for bribes if his prices were so low?

Well, there was one way to find out, Simplicia thought as she made her way out of the shop on creaking knees. Casting her gaze up and down the length of Commerce Street, her eyes ignored the patricians and plebeians making their way down the busy thoroughfare. Then her gaze set upon a narrow alley across the street, between a bookstore and a leather shop.

That would be perfect, Simplicia thought as she pushed her old bones across the street and found a spot in the narrow cut between insulas. Settling down behind a small mound of trash, she put her back to the wall and gazed back across the street. With the front door of The Copious Coinpurse square in her sights, she settled in for the night and waited.

So Simplicia decides to play investigator, huh? I'm already settling down for a delightful diversion, as I'm sure this is bound to be.

And would Simplicia tell Teresa about this adventure of hers? Or will she avoid making Teresa worry about her? Now who'd be protecting whom?

Miss Jane Marple and Jessica Fletcher watch out, here comes Simplicia!! This promises to be one of the more memorable adventures in the TF (and that is saying something). I love how you tied in Simplicia’s investigation of Thoronir to her inside knowledge of the inner workings of the Thieves Guild, while also commenting on the irony of her current circumstance working in Jensine’s shop. I still can’t decide whether she’s investigating out of some need to exonerate the Gray Fox, or if she is motivated by the guilt felt seeing the Gray Fox from the perspective of a shop keeper. Either way, it just works! The only problem I have now is that I can't help picturing Angela Lansbury as Simplicia!!

A nit:

That would be perfect, perhaps?

GAAAH!!! Agarmir and his henchmen will hurt Simplicia !!!!! I hope Teresa gets back in time to save her!!! (Or Vols does) Great Chapter Sage Rosa !!! ... Cliffhanging, though, knowing Simplicia is walking into danger !!!! GAAAH!!!

Thank you for pausing to let Simplicia regale us with an adventure! Much to like here indeed.

I quite loved Simplicia's 'drifting' thoughts as she was talking with Jensine - - - - oh my goodness, I love it! Every bit as wonderful as a butterfly, and how clever an appellation for a wood elf. I so hope this nickname for Teresa sticks!

Oh, anyway. . . back to. . . where was I? It's ok Simplicia, I understand.

I'm not sure if it was your intent, but I enjoyed how you showed Thoronir's prosperity, in part, via his belly. I expect in TF, money = food = belly. Suntanned skinny blondes had to be poor dirt farmers laboring in the sun for their food. Now. . . Teresa, with that Arimer skin and loads of gold just needs to start eating a lot (and not start that jogging program of course) and she can look like real wealth!

Oh, and I like Jensine as well!

As said above, visions of Jessica Fletcher dance through my head. Uh oh. . . I'm reminded that Mrs Acadian figures out whodunit 12 minutes into Murder She Wrote. Poor me feels lucky to understand it when Jessica announces it at 54 minutes into the mystery.

haute ecole rider: I don't think Simplicia will be able to keep Teresa from finding out about her little adventure. Otherwise, she probably would not mention it!


Destri Melarg: That would be perfect indeed. Funny thing is I saw that and edited it before I saw your comment. You must have been posting at the same time I was fixing it.

Simplicia's motivations will become crystal clear this segment. Rest assured, she is not as idealistic as Teresa.

Oh, and I have added Miss Jane Marple to my netflix queue thanks to your mention.


mALX: That you Agarmir? Nope, not this time around, as this episode will reveal.


Acadian: I thought of cherry blossom about a month ago, and worked it into some of the older chapters already. It seems the perfect pet name, given the white petals of the flower, and Teresa's white skin.

In some societies being overweight is exactly that, a sign of prosperity. The Venus of Willendorf statuettes are a dramatic example (being not only fat, but pregnant). I was not really trying to do any world-building concerning Valenwood though. Thoronir always struck me as being fat in the game.


Next: After speaking with Jensine, Simplicia decided to investigate Thoronir. Next she learns the source of Thoronir's goods.


Chapter 25.2 – Unfriendly Competition


Like most shopkeepers, Thoronir locked up his doors at six bells. From there Simplicia followed him to the The Merchants Inn. There he attacked a plate of roast boar and mashed potatoes with gusto, and washed it down with several mugs of ale. She was careful to stay out of his sight, and nursed a cup of milk the entire time. The barmaid gave her a dirty look, which she gave right back. She was not rich enough to be throwing around her drakes in such a fancy place. Not when she could get the same from a street vendor for one quarter the price.

After a few hours of drinking and hobnobbing with several other Bosmer men, the shopkeeper made his way out the front door. Simplicia took her time following, and just caught sight of him turning off Market Way and back onto Commerce Street as she stepped outside the inn. Willing her aching knees to follow, she plodded after him.

The street was nearly empty, with only a few pedestrians and carriages going to and fro. It was a stark contrast to how packed it was during the day, when all the shops were open. While that made the walking easier, it also meant that she had to be extra careful in her efforts to shadow the Bosmer shopkeeper. For there was far less of a crowd for her to vanish into now.

The sun was lowering over the district wall by the time Thoronir made his way into the alley behind Rindir's Staffs. Simplicia followed from a distance, and saw that a Dunmer was standing there next to the well that the local shops all used for their water. Thoronir walked up to the man, and began speaking in a hushed tone.

It was too quiet for her to hear, so Simplicia risked sneaking forward. She stayed close to the piles of trash and empty crates that lined the sides of the alley. Shadow hide me, she thought to herself. Perhaps Nocturnal was indeed with her, for neither man took notice of her as she slinked into earshot.

"I don't know Dreth," Thoronir was talking. "I don't need more clothing. And why do we have to meet like this? Why don't you just come by the shop?"

"I told you, this is how we do business here in the Imperial City, you backcountry hick!" the Dunmer spat back. "If you don't like it, go back to Valenwood, or whatever hole you came from! I'll take my goods to that Jensine instead, and she'll be the one selling on the cheap and still raking in the septims."

"Fine, fine, you made your point," the Bosmer sighed, his shoulders visibly slumping in defeat. "What time tomorrow night then?"

"We should be done and back here by midnight." The Dunmer stepped closer, and Simplicia thought she saw the gleam of steel in his hand. "You just keep your mouth shut and be here. If not, I'll come looking for you."

"Alright, alright!" Thoronir exclaimed. The fat Bosmer tried to back away from the other man, but found himself trapped against the edge of the well. The Dunmer took a step closer, and now Simplicia could plainly see the knife in his hand. With a long, double-edged blade, it tapered to a sharp point, like a stretched out triangle. It glinted wickedly in the light of the setting sun as the dark elf held it up in front of the merchant's face.

"That's right you filthy little harlot, now you're going to pay," the husky voice of the dark elf slashed through the pounding of blood in Simplicia's ears. He held the knife in front of her eyes, turning it this way and that, so she could see every razor-sharp inch of it. She tried to scream as the dagger moved slowly over her naked body, but the gag in her mouth turned her cries into nothing more than muffled groans.

She felt the steel point brush against the bare skin between her breasts, and stared down with wide eyes as it traced a line down her flesh. It only touched her skin, but did not break the surface, not yet at least. Her arms and legs strained against the cords that bound them to the bedposts, but to no avail. She was completely helpless.

"Oh don't pretend like you're innocent. You have it coming. You all have it coming," the dark elf hissed like a serpent. Then the knife drifted even lower, between her legs. "Now let's see just how ripe you really are…"

Simplicia had to cover her mouth to stifle the scream that would have torn through her lips. Her body was shaking like a leaf, and sweat dripped from her forehead. Twenty years, and still that cursed elf haunted her memories. Was there no escape? or would she still be reliving that night until she died?

She wanted skooma. She could almost taste its sweet nectar on her lips. She had money in her pocket, and knew it would not be hard to find someone selling in the Arena District. All she had to do was walk over there, and the nightmares would end, at least for a while.

No, the aged Imperial told herself, not again. Things were going too good for her to ruin it all now. That damn elf had taken too much of her life as it was. She was not going to let his ghost take the rest. Not again.

Looking around the alley, she found that the Bosmer shopkeeper had vanished. Her heart sank in her chest. She had lost her chance to find out what he was up to because of her own damned terrors! Then the sound of cloth scuffing on stone came to her ears. Turning her head to the other end of the narrow street, she saw the silhouette of a slender man etched starkly in the mouth of the alley. A moment later he vanished onto Market Way, and Simplicia pulled herself up to her feet.

Forcing her stiff joints into motion, the old Imperial winced with every step she had to take. Yet take them she did. This was her only chance to find out what Thoronir was up to, and save her job while she was at it. For she did not need a university mage to tell her what would happen if Jensine could not make enough money to pay the rent. They would both be out on the street.

She was not going to allow that to happen. She was not going back to the gutter, not again.

The image of Teresa came to the old woman's mind as she exited the alley onto Market Way. She would pay for an inn, Simplicia knew, or even an apartment. But she could not let the young wood elf do that. She could not let herself be more of a burden than she already was. Teresa had her entire life ahead of her, and should not have any of it spoiled because of an old git like herself.

With an effort Simplicia pushed Teresa from her mind and concentrated on the street. Thanks to the light traffic, she could see the Dunmer ahead. What had Thoronir called him, Dreth? He seemed to be the one behind whatever they were doing - the source of the stolen goods. If indeed they were stolen. He was the key. She just had to make sure she did not lose him.

What a wonderful chapter - full of surprises!

I see that you have continued using street names to add atmosphere to the situation.

And Simplicia's flashback added a surprising layer to what would have otherwise been a straightforward 'follow-that-man' job. It also emphasized Simplicia's courage in pursuing what is typically considered a young person's pastime - snooping.

Good job here!

Make sure you avoid The Mirror Crack’d starring Angela Lansbury as Miss Marple. The movie is just a poor example of the character. Margaret Rutherford is the definitive Miss Marple in the same way that Basil Rathbone is the definitive Sherlock Holmes. Check her out in Murder She Said (not Wrote), Murder Most Foul, Murder Ahoy, and Murder at the Gallop. All of these are available through Netflix, I believe.

I think you may have stumbled onto the fertile ground of yet another fanfic! The idea of the former beggar, Simplicia the Slow, as an amateur detective in Cyrodiil is just delicious! I loved how she fended off the dirty looks of the innkeeper while nursing a glass of milk. Perfect!

Facing her fear in that dark alley while looking at the knife held by Dreth (of all mer) gave a much needed intensity to what is essentially (like hautee said) a follow-that-mer chapter. Her fragility and vulnerability make Simplicia a wonderfully effective protagonist.

MORE!

Unexpected surprise is right! I figured we were in for a fun romp through a comfortable quest. The identity of Thoronir's contact and Simplicia's painful flashback just changed that! Do I recall that this Dreth fellow was in the prison cell in the Imperial Prison? The same Dreth that crazily pursued little Teresa as a 'witch'? Oooh, this is rather tightly woven into TF isn't it? This is really good!



'Like most shopkeepers, Thoronir locked up his doors at six bells.'
It may just be me, but I can't help chuckling. This is what telling time by bells means to me: http://www.navy.mil/navydata/questions/bells.html
I'm sure it comes from too many years on aircraft carriers and being deeply steeped in ancient nautical traditions.

GAAAAH! I thought Vols killed the man that did that to Simplicia? ARGH, she will be hurt! Vols needs to save her again, I hope he does and FAST !!!!

Very surprising twist, nerve-wracking due to concern over Simplicia - but Awesome break from what we know of the linear questline!

Awesome Write, Sage Rosa !!!

haute ecole rider: I like those street names! Wait until we get to Bravil, I came up with a ton of new street names there.


Destri Melarg: I suppose I could call the new Simplicia Fic Murder, She Begged! Alas, I am not a mystery writer. It does sound neat though!

I did try one of the Miss Marple's from 1987 - A Caribbean Mystery - since it was available for instant viewing. It did not do anything for me. Miss Marple sat out the first half of the story, which turned me off. I realize they were spending time building all the characters so there was plenty of suspect fodder, but a protagonist ought to drive the story, not be a bystander to most of it. So I added in a couple of Margaret Rutherfords to my queue, but unfortunately I have to wait on the mail for those.


Acadian: As you have probably noticed, I like to weave characters tightly together in the TF. I wrote that little scene of Dreth being released from prison with this chapter in mind. What Teresa started with him, Simplicia will finish. With a little help from some other members of Teresa's extended family in the IC...

So that is how those navy bells work. I always wondered how they went, since I noticed that they do not correspond to church bells ringing the hour.


mALX: Vols did kill the man who maimed Smplicia. Dreth just happens to be another insane male Dunmer with a fetish for knives.


Next: Simplicia's snooping has uncovered the source of Thoronir's cheap goods. Next we find Methredhel whiling away the same evening with a friend at The Bloated Float.


Chapter 25.3 – Unfriendly Competition


"And then he says to me, 'well a hole's a hole after all!', as if I'm not going to care!"

"All men are like that Dynari," Methredhel shook her head and took another sip of ale from her mug. The tavern around her was filled with a cacophony of shouts, singing, and jeers, and above all the off-tune piano-playing of the Altmer proprietor. "They want to see how much they can get away with. You've got to put your foot down right at the start."

"Bless Dibella you are right Meth," the other woman nodded. "Men! Can't live with 'em, can't just kill them!"

"And can't teach them to play a musical instrument," the wood elf chuckled as she momentarily glanced over at the Altmer torturing the keys of the piano. Then she looked back to the Imperial sitting beside her. With dark brown hair done up in the same elf braids that she wore herself, Dynari could almost be her twin. If not for her brown eyes and round ears of course.

Screenshot

Screenshot

For a moment she found herself wondering if Teresa had the same problems with women that she and Dynari had with men? Maybe Teresa was the lucky one, liking women instead. Then again, maybe not, Methredhel considered. For every woman like herself or Dynari, there were probably a hundred Adanrels…

That is when a familiar sight came to the thief's eye. The bushy red tail of a fox, flashing its way through the crowd. Her heart leaped as she followed the path of her spirit guide. It still surprised her that no one else could see her. Yet if Teresa had taught her anything, it was to always pay attention when Fox had something to show her.

Fox vanished as the front door of the common room opened. Stepping within a moment later was a frail-looking Imperial woman. She was old, with a grey mop of hair and roadmap of lines for a face. She wore a simple - yet clean and neat - linen dress and plain pigskin shoes. Her feet slowly pushed her into the common room of the inn, as if she had to think about every step before taking it.

"Simplicia?" the wood elf muttered, not believing her eyes.

"Who?" Dynari asked, the young Imperial following Methredhel's stare.

"She's the mother of my friend Teresa. You know, the one I grew up with." Methredhel rose, and in that instant Simplicia's eyes locked upon her own. "Give me a moment, she wouldn't have come all the way down here without a good reason."

Did something happen to Teresa? the wood elf wondered with a growing sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Please gods, don't let it be that. Not after all they had been through together, especially lately. Methredhel wove her way through the patrons of The Bloated Float to where Simplicia stood. No, if something had happened to Teresa she would not look so composed, the wood elf thought with relief. The former beggar would be a complete basket case. So Teresa must be okay. Then what could it be?

"Simplicia," she said plainly, "I'm surprised to see you here."

"Teresa said all you thieves like to come here." The beggar turned shop-clerk spat out the words like sour milk. "So naturally it was the first place I looked."

"It's so nice to see you again too." Methredhel did not bother to conceal the sarcasm in her voice.

"I'm not here to exchange pleasantries," the old woman said. "I'm here to hire you."

Methredhel could not keep her eyebrow from leaping in surprise. "You want to hire me? Now this I have to hear." The young Bosmer motioned Simplicia to follow her back to her table. The old Imperial took her time moving across the common room, and Methredhel was once again sipping from her mug of ale by the time she sat across from her and Dynari.

"So who's she? Another one of you gangsters?" Simplicia stared at Dynari with barely concealed distaste. Methredhel could see the anger flash in the young Imperial's eyes, and put out a hand to stop the other woman's inevitable reply.

"Yes, she's the Grey Fox," the Bosmer replied. "We were just about to steal the High Chancellor's drawers from the Imperial Palace before you came in."

"Hrrmph," the old woman grumbled as smoothed her skirt down over her legs. "Then you would know if Thoronir from The Copious Coinpurse is one of your fences."

"That pudgy little buffon?" Now Dynari did speak. "Not hardly. He's too stupid to work for the Guild."

"Then what about a Dunmer thug named Dreth?" Simplicia leaned across the table now. "He likes to use a knife, and lives in the Arena District."

"Doesn't sound like anyone I know," Methredhel shrugged. She glanced over at Dynari, who shook her head, then turned back to Simplicia. "Why, what are they to you?"

"Thoronir's trying to put Jensine and everyone else out of business with his prices." The old woman stopped to shoo away a skimpily-clad Redguard waitress who tried to take her order. Then she turned back to Methredhel. "His goods must be stolen. Since he's not in the Thieves Guild, I want you to get the proof."

"Now why should I do that?" Methredhel leaned back in her chair, savoring the moment. Simplicia asking her for help, now that was something she had never imagined happening. She imagined that the old Imperial would sooner swallow a straight razor.

"Don't give me that, I know there's no honor among thieves. He's your competition too." Simplicia declared. Still, she produced a purse that fairly bulged with the outline of coins and dropped it on the table with a clinking of metal. "Besides, I'll pay you."

Methredhel picked up the simple leather bag and turned it one way and another in her hands. By its weight, she imagined it must be every coin the old woman had earned since she had given up begging and turned to honest work. This had to be really important, Methredhel thought, for the Imperial to offer so much. And she had to the last person on Nirn that Simplicia would ever ask for help.

"So exactly what is it you want?" Methredhel asked, carefully setting the purse back down on the table between them.

"This Dreth is dropping off a shipment of his loot to Thoronir tomorrow night," Simplicia said. "I want you to break into his apartment before then and get me the proof its stolen. He might have the goods already, or plans for where he's going to steal it from. You just get me that."

"Okay, I'll do it," Methredhel said, sliding the purse back to Simplicia. "But not for the money. I want something else."

"What?" the old woman's eyes narrowed. Gods, Methredhel thought, why did she always have to do that?

"You have to start being nice to me," the thief insisted, "and no more telling Teresa to that I'm a bad influence on her."

"You are a bad influence on her!" Simplicia proclaimed as she rose to her feet and leveled an accusatory finger at the young Bosmer. "You're the reason she's got so wild! She never would have moved down to the Waterfront when she was fifteen if it wasn't for you, and she wouldn't be running around trying to get herself killed now if you hadn't put it in her head somehow!"

"Me!" now Methredhel could not keep from raising her own voice in return, or leaping to her feet as well. "I'm the one who's always looked out for her! I taught her to defend herself with a bow. You keep treating her like she's a baby. She's not, she's a grown woman!"

"Looked out for her? You're the reason she had her teeth knocked out!" the old Imperial practically shouted. "Seeing you stealing food is what put it in her head to try. Teresa was always a good girl. She would never think of stealing before she met you."

The words fell from Methredhel's mouth. Teresa had never said that she was stealing when the legionary knocked out her tooth. Was Simplicia lying? Or did Teresa say nothing to keep her from feeling guilty? Would Teresa lie to protect her feelings?

Of course she would, Methredhel thought as she plopped down heavily onto her chair. Now she noticed that the music had stopped playing, and that everyone around her was staring. Part of her wanted to use her Moonshadow power to vanish. But she knew that would not help.

"I am not responsible for everything Teresa does that you do not like," the young thief finally said, now in a calm, quiet tone. Right, and it was not like Teresa ever looked up to her when they were kids either, or tried to be like her. "If I ever hurt her, I'm sorry for it. But I'm not sorry if I helped her learn to stand on her own two feet. She can't live behind your skirts forever. She has to do what's right for her, whatever that is. I can accept that, why can't you?"

"Because she's my baby," Simplicia said softly, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Methredhel sighed. This was worse than her yelling and pointing her finger. Reaching out to pick up the bag of coins, she rose to her feet once more and pressed it into the old woman's hands.

"Where can I find this Dreth?"

Another wonderful chapter with some familiar characters.

Meth is not so self-absorbed as she likes to pretend she is. And I had briefly forgotten about her spirit guide, so when first read of Fox's bushy tail, I thought of - well, you know. Then it was facepalm time - oh yeah, that fox! And it was nice meeting Dynari for the first time in the TF. I know the two women room together in the game. So they both have men problems? Well that explains the two of them drinking ale in the Bloated Float.

The interaction between Simlicia and Meth is wonderful. I remember my mother not approving of certain girls I once hung out with - she wouldn't let me go to their houses to play. But Mom, those girls are sooo cool! Funny, but those girls were the ones that started smoking in the girls restroom at school just a few years later, then dropped out of high school because they had turned into potheads. So maybe Mom did know best?

I've been gone for what? four months? And I come back to find Teresa fighting ghosts and hooking up with Altmer and Imperials! Then I read on to discover that Simplicia has turned detective! The world has gone mad (In a good way of course)

I spent this morning reading Acadian and Buffy's adventures and this afternoon (and evening) reading Teresa's adventures. There is only so much Bosmer a man can take.

Teresa continues to surprise me with her ongoing adventures in Cyrodiil (and her adventures underneath the sheets ) and she keeps getting stronger and has learned a lot in these past few months but I beg you, for the love of Nerussa, to head my words (Even if Acadian won't): BUY YOU'RE BOSMER A BLADE. That is all.

SPEW!!! ROFL !!!! I'll have to come back and read this when I stop choking to death laughing !!!! You gave us no warning on that one minxy SubRosa !!!! ROFL !!!!

Lovely, SubRosa!

I smiled at seeing Methredhel's spirit guide again, as well as the wonderful atmosphere you imparted to the Bloated Float.

Simplicia was like a mama grizzly in her single-minded protectiveness of Teresa.

Methredhel was so wonderfully, well . . . Methredhel.

Here I was about to scream exactly what Methredhel thought in the very next paragraph:

Despite the disturbance they no doubt caused, even at the rowdy Bloated Float, you managed to maneuver both women away from a cat fight and, even better, made both of them just that much more endearing to us. Well done!

And wrapped within all this wonderfully rich interaction, you also managed to move the mystery of Simplicia's investigation along. Smart of Simplicia to higher the young 'uns to do the thievin'.

If the hole of a ho is tilled with a hoe
and it tickles her till she goes "ho, ho, ho",
O, wouldn't that be quite a delightful show
- but I sense a certain 'schoolmarm' frowning "NO NO NO"...

*sticks tongue out at Rosy Minx*