Hi all, welcome to Teresa 2.0. Some of you may recognize the stringy wood elf this fan fic is about from another forum. I am going to start reposting her adventures here. However, I have taken this opportunity
for a fresh start to go back over the story and do some work on it. Starting with an entirely new scene, which you see below.

I have decided to give up the idea of breaking things up into separate Acts like I did with Not A Hero and Moving Through Darkness. It was probably a little confusing. Instead I am just going to go with a single title and let it go on as long as it needs to, hence the new name.

You will also find that the first half of what used to be called Not A Hero has been heavily edited. Hopefully an improvement! The rest of the story will also receive a facelift, although generally not as great. There will probably be a few more entirely new chapters turning up between some of the old ones as well. So this is not the same story you might have seen on the other forum.


For people new to the TF, you might find it easier to catch up with the cliff notes version in the spoiler tags below:




* * *

Chapter 1 –Warning

12th Second Seed, 3E433

The harsh croaking of a raven prompted Teresa to raise her green eyes from the only slightly bruised apple that she was eating. The alley behind the Tiber Septim Hotel was narrow, a thin gouge cut between massive stone buildings that loomed high to either side and cast its depths into dim shadow. Sacks filled with trash dotted the length of the lane, clustered in small islands near the back doors of every business and home.

The pale wood elf stood at one such mound of garbage, filled with slops and other castoffs. Rich people threw away the best food, she knew, making the back streets here in the Talos Plaza district a practical gold mine for street urchins like herself.

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Her scavenged lunch fell from suddenly nerveless fingers however, as she gazed down the alley and saw the figure of a man running in the shadows. He was clad in plain linens, the clothing of an ordinary plebeian. But there was nothing ordinary about the way he held a drawn sword in his hand, nor the blood that stained it.

Before the elf could bolt and run herself, the interloper was upon her. Now she could see he was an Imperial by his olive skin and dark hair. He reached out to her with his free hand, and as Teresa backed away she realized that it was not only his sword that was washed in blood, but the front of his tunic as well.

"You must warn them!" the Imperial croaked through the blood that flowed from his mouth. As she stared with wide eyes, Teresa was certain she could see tiny bubbles of air bursting up from the red flow. She had seen that before, from deep knife wounds to the chest. He was a dead man, she thought, he just did not know it yet.

His hand clutched at the shabby tunic of worn sack cloth that Teresa wore, grabbing a handful of the rough material. Teresa nearly jumped as his fingers pressed against one of her breasts. The sword fell from his other hand with a clatter of steel on stone, and the Imperial dropped to his knees, collapsing into her.

Teresa stared with wide eyes at the dying man, whose head was now buried in the valley between her small breasts. Her heart raced like a wild horse, and she felt her skin grow cold as Skyrim. Try as she might to flee, her feet seemed rooted to the spot however. All she could do was gape in growing horror as the man clutched at her willowy frame and spat blood over her already bedraggled clothing.

The sound of footsteps caused her to lift her eyes and gaze back down the way the Imperial had come. There stood a handful of figures wearing dark red robes, nearly black in the dim light. Hoods of the same material covered their heads, shrouding their faces in darkness. She saw blades in their hands as well. Not mortal steel, but rather monstrous, wavy knives, like the jagged teeth of some fearsome Daedra.

"They're going to kill the-" with that the Imperial's voice gave out, and she heard a rattling noise issue from his throat. It was like a dry breeze through an abandoned tenement. Then he fell limp at her feet, open eyes staring blankly back up at her from the pavement.

"Hey, what's going on back there!" came an iron growl from the other end of the alley. The clash of armored boots rang out between the high buildings, reverberating in the Bosmer's ears. Wrenching her gaze from the dead man, Teresa turned to see an Imperial Watchman charging down the alley toward her, dark eyes glittering like polished ebony within the 'T'-shaped slit in his full-faced helmet.

"You there! Put down your weapons and surrender." The legionary had his arming sword out now, and before the wood elf knew it, he was standing before her. He took a moment to first glance down at the dead man at Teresa's feet, and then the blood that washed her tunic.

"I didn't-" Teresa gasped, feeling her blood turn to ice with the understanding of how things must look to the watchman. Then the steel gauntlet of his left hand was reaching out for her, and the words slipped from her throat.

"You'll hang for this street meat!" the legionary growled.

With that Teresa finally felt her body come back under her control. Twisting away from watchman's grasp, she sprang for the other end of the alley. Her eyes saw that the red-robed figures were gone now. Then her view swam as her foot caught upon the corpse of the Imperial. She felt herself falling, and her head slammed against something hard as she came to a stop.

Her vision narrowed, as if she were within a tunnel. She was vaguely aware of the thin, blue slit of the sky above her, flanked by the grey stone of buildings to either side. She thought she saw a dark bird spread its wings in that sliver of light. But then the shape dissolved, and turned into the steel helmet of the legionary, looming closer and closer. Finally, darkness consumed her.

Oooo, Verlox likes. This is most well written and entertaining, easily serving the purpose of drawing us in, wanting more.

I thought it was funny when the guard called her street meat

A prologue, a prologue, yipppeee!!!!!

My wolfy heart is singing for joy and I am spinning in dizzy circles.
Teresa is at Chorrol.

I love the description that you have weaved into this chapter. Wow. The buildings, the birds, the assassins, the blood, awesome.
This is a perfect set up for our lady with the faint smile (although not too much smiling done today!!)

It is funny to see her without the leather armor we know and love.

More, oh Sage, more!!!!

As you know, I have always loved your story and your vivid descriptive style. This brief (new) introduction adds tremendous depth without adding many words. I also spotted some foreshadowing very early on- (based on your PM earlier)- but I will keep mum about it.

Welcome Teresa!

What a setup! Through vividly descriptive language you give us a feel for the underside of the Imperial City. Even though we haven't really gotten to know her yet in this prologue, long live Teresa of the faint smile, and long may she smile (faintly).

And this:

is simply great!

I like, I like!

The chapter is tight, short, yet evocative and descriptive.

I really enjoyed this introduction!

Verlox: Thank you V. I am glad the chapter worked. I wanted something that would draw people in.


Winter Wolf: Thanks WW. I was going to call it a prologue (since that is what it is), but I have noticed that some people who write fan fics call a big infodump where they explain everything about how their world works a prologue as well. I did not want anyone confusing mine with that and deciding not to read.

No faint smiles for a while though. Not until chapter 3 I think. She does look different without the leather does she not? I have several more pics to add for these early chapters like the previous one.


treydog: Woof! Keep your eyes peeled for those birds...


Destri Melarg: Thank you Dest. Many people have commented that the beginning of Not A Hero was decent, and then about four posts in it suddenly became much better. That is the reason I have taken the time to rework these early chapters, and added in this entirely new one. I want to get these parts up to snuff. With this prologue especially, I want to really grab the reader.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. I was hoping for something that would grab people.


* * *

Chapter 2a - On The Wings Of Ravens

12th Second Seed, 3E433

Teresa woke with her head pounding like a Nord was playing the drums inside of her skull. She ran a hand through her long brown hair, and found it stiff with dried blood. Pain flared bright and hot through the steady beating between her temples as her questing fingers came across a goose egg of risen flesh in the back of her scalp.

The Bosmer winced and closed her eyes for long moments, until the stinging pain from the bump on her head abated. When finally the pounding began to ease as well she looked around to see where she was.

She quickly realized that it was a prison cell. Rusty, but still very serviceable-looking iron manacles hung from one of its stone walls. Next to it was a niche in the wall with a raised stone floor. After a moment of staring at it she realized it must be a bed, given the dirty straw that was spread across it. A ragged stool and rickety wooden table sat opposite the sleeping niche, with a simple plate and cup of chipped pottery haphazardly thrown across it. Torches that guttered in the hall outside filled the room with their dancing orange light, and Teresa rose to walk to the door of solid iron bars that barred her exit.

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"Well now, a little wood elf. You're a little far from the forest, aren't you?" The voice dripped with sarcasm, like venom from a serpent's mouth. Teresa saw it came from a man silhouetted in the dim light of the cell across the hall from her. "Looks like your days of woodland frolicking have come to a tragic end. To go from the gladed realm of Valenwood to a rat-infested hole like this... how very sad."

Teresa snorted to herself. She had never set foot outside the Imperial City, let alone frolicked in any woodland. This guy was a complete idiot, she thought, there was no sense even trying to talk to him.

Instead she pushed her lean frame against the iron bars, and found them to be as unrelenting as she had expected them to be. Pressing her head against the door, she craned her neck from one side to another in an attempt to peek down the hallway. Yet nothing but empty stone corridor stretched off to the left, and an equally empty stone stair lead up and out of sight to the right.

"Have you ever seen someone hang?" The other prisoner continued in an icy voice. "No long drops here to snap your neck. Oh no, it's the short step for you. They like to watch you dance on the end of the rope. Ten minutes of agony, or even longer, as your life slips away bit by bit. First your face turns blue as you slowly strangle. Then little red spots burst all over your skin. Finally, in the end, your tongue will pop out as you die. I've seen it plenty, and I'm going to see it one more time when they come for you."

Teresa shivered in spite of herself. She had seen the corpses of murderers hanging on display outside of the Imperial Prison, across from the Market Gate. It was never pretty. The thought of her being one of them made her stomach churn and skin crawl. Surely they would understand when she explained it all to them! she thought. They had to understand, she was innocent!

Sure, she thought, as if a magistrate was going to believe that a street urchin like herself was innocent of anything…

The sound of clattering metal and hard-soled boots stamping on the stone floor came to her ears. Teresa knew that sound from a lifetime of experience. The Imperial Legion was coming. Was this it then? she wondered with sinking feeling, were they coming for her?

Teresa stepped back as a group of soldiers walked up to the door of her cell and peered inside. Then she started in surprise. These were no ordinary soldiers, she knew. They did not wear the dark clamshell plate of the legion. Rather their armor was made of bright, silvery bands of steel wrapping horizontally around their torsos and falling down over their shoulders. Golden tassels tied each piece together in a long line down the center of their chests. More studs of gold seemed to rivet the shoulder pieces down, and elaborately carved gorgets of the same covered their throats.

The first was a dark-skinned Redguard, and behind him came a brown-haired Breton woman. Both carried long curved swords instead of the usual broad, straight arming swords that the Imperial Legion favored. The Breton's was drawn and in her hand, and as she drew near she could see its glimmering steel was already stained dark with blood. More figures stood behind them, but Teresa could not make them out.

"Someone is in here," the Redguard said, glancing back at his companions. "There must have been some kind of foul up with the legion. This cell is supposed to always be empty."

"Oh well, nothing for it now," the Breton woman muttered, then stared directly at Teresa with eyes that could freeze a Daedra. "Step back to the far wall prisoner, or I will send you to Oblivion right now!"

Teresa believed her, and moved back to the wall opposite the door and was careful not to move. These were not the usual soldiers she was used to dealing with on the street. Nor were they even the dragon-emblazoned praetorians that stood guard in the Palace District. These were the Blades, she suddenly realized. The personal bodyguards of the Emperor!

The Redguard unlocked the door and stepped inside. He walked directly across the room to where Teresa stood and stopped an arm's length away. Just far enough for him to easily draw and swing his curved sword. Teresa noted. The Breton followed and walked over to the wall behind him. She did something to one of the stones there that Teresa could not see, and suddenly the entire wall slid away with a grating of stone on stone, revealing a dark passage beyond.

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A third member of the party entered, giving Teresa her first good look at him. He was an old man, hair white with age and wrinkled frame even more slender than her own. He wore a robe of purple and red brocade, decorated with white fur that grew around his shoulders like a lion's mane. What Teresa really noticed however, was the amulet that hung around his neck, which held a diamond-shaped ruby the size of her hand.

"It is you..." the old Imperial said, staring at Teresa and moving up to her, closer than even the Redguard stood. "You are the one from my dreams, Teresa... On the wings of ravens you have come... Then the stars were right, and this is the day. Gods give me strength."

The willowy elf looked at him with a dumbfounded stare. Teresa did not have to guess who this man was, or what that necklace was. He was the Emperor, Uriel Septim VII, and that was the Amulet of Kings! Everyone in Cyrodiil knew the amulet. It was on every statue of every emperor, going back to Alessia herself.

"Sir, we have no time," the Redguard warned as another soldier entered the room behind. This last Blade waited at the doorway, watching the way they had come from. "We have to get moving before the assassins find us."

Teresa was stunned. The Emperor himself was talking to her, a lowly street urchin! Somehow he even knew her face, knew her name. Her world spun. This could not be happening! she thought. It just could not be real. She did not know what to say. But even if she had, it would not have mattered, as her voice had deserted her.

The three bodyguards ushered the Emperor through the secret passage in the wall of her cell. The Breton warned her to stay out of their way, or else. But the Redguard mumbled something about it being her lucky day as the group drifted into the darkness.

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You continue to keep me anxious for what happens next, even though I am "caught up" on Teresa's story. As a former editor, there is always a special joy in seeing a piece of writing develop and evolve.

One nit:

"Teresa felt herself shiver in spite of herself."

I think active voice would do away with the repetitive pronoun:

"Teresa shivered in spite of herself."

This is quite nice.

If I could be like Trey and register a slight quibble, you might draw your attention to this line:

"The pale Bosmer winced and closed her eyes for long moments, until the stinging pain from the bump on her head abated." (Emphasis mine)

As writers, we try so terribly hard to be descriptive... and sometimes we try too hard. It's a trap everybody falls into. There seems to be little reason to refer to her as pale at this particular moment. I simply would have gone with "Teresa" or "She" or "The bosmer" and left the pale description out until a more apt moment.

Otherwise, very fine work. I enjoyed how you conveyed her inner thoughts (about the coming of the guards, about facing an imperial magistrate, etc.), and much of your description is quite fine. Just beware of trying too hard. Or at least making it seem like you're working too hard. Which reminds me of an excellent phrase from Zen Buddhism (via the poet/essayist Gary Snyder):

"The path to enlightenment is without effort. Strive hard!"

Doesn't that capture the challenge of writing so well?

Again, well-written and descriptive!

I did notice a couple of things that rather disrupted the narrative flow for me:


It has the feel of a change in verb tense. I think you can dispense with the bold face words and improve the flow of the reading:
A third member of the party entered, giving Teresa her first good look at him.


Again, I found this disruptive. I know you want to set this apart from the sentences before, when Teresa is reflecting on seeing the Emperor and having him speak to her. I think you can do without those two words. They feel extraneous to me.

Other than that, well done!

I like how this is written, possibly the description was a shade heavy in places though I can't say I noticed particularly.

The flow is good, it's smooth to read and you get a good picture of the character's thoughts and background which isn't the easiest thing to do. I'm fascinated to see how this develops.

If I were looking for anything to criticise (and it took a bit of thought) I'd suggest you use fewer adverbs. This is a bit controversial but words like 'suddenly' are sometimes counter-productive. It slows things down and if an event is genuinely sudden then the word is devalued. Likewise 'stared directly' is redundant, stared is a good verb and can do the work itself, at least in my opinion. Just something to think about really.

Since it seems that all of the slight nits in this story have been ably and adequately addressed, allow (there is some alliteration for you) me to comment on something that struck me in this chapter. The circumstances surrounding Teresa's imprisonment. With the new prologue Teresa proclaiming her innocence takes on a weight that had been missing before. Her being recognized by the Emperor also underscores the coincidental nature of her presence in that cell to begin with. The new prologue makes us believe that these events are being guided by the hands of the gods.

Ohhhh, now this is just great, so well described, I could easily put myself in Teresa's head....oh dear, this is going to be sooo interesting.

I know I'm a little late, but I love the new beginning to your story!

The rework of this chapter is perfect now. It ties in wonderfully well with the prologue and is the lovely start that all writers strive for. Thumbs up oh sage.

I like the way you broke up the dialogue with Valen Dreth, and had SubRosa sorry Teresa staring down the hallway past the bars. Damn that worked well!!

Your pace, flow and internal thoughts make such a fluent read.

With everyone here and re-writing/heavily editing their existing story, there really is no point in being on the other forum anymore, is there?

Of course; I will read as you go along, look forward seeing what you are going to change and what not.

And as as sidenote; I loved the new beginning!

treydog: I hope it will be interesting for those people who have read it before.

Thank you for using that doggie nose to sniff out Teresa's shivering. Fixed.


canis216: Thank you for the kind words my canid friend. And for eyeing out that unnecessary paleness.

A year ago I wrote this little piece as an experiment to see just how little description I could use and still keep a story moving, instead using dialogue to both describe and move the plot along.


haute ecole rider: Thank you h.e.r. Disruptions un-disrupted.


Olen: Thank you Olen.


Destri Melarg: I am glad that Teresa's reasons for being in the prison work better this time. Aside from wanting to start with some action, the other reason I wrote the prologue was to try to put some depth into her being in prison. That it all feels like an uncanny coincidence is perfect. That is what I was hoping for, without being too heavy handed.


minque: It's Serene's mother!

Digging deep into Teresa's head is probably what I am best at. Really, the focus of my writing is to show her from the inside, so people can see how events change her.


Jacki Dice: It is never too late, my favorite black rose girl. I am glad you liked the new start.


Winter Wolf: Thank you Wolf (I always think White Wolf when I see your name, thanks to years of playing Vampire: The Masquerade - the tabletop rpg, not the comp game. That and reading Elric stories).

I am glad you liked the change-up in Valen Dreth's dialogue. I was sorely tempted to remove all of it that came from the game, and make it 100% original. But I just could not resist the homage to the game that inspired all of this.


Remko: Thank you Remko. I am glad the new beginning worked for you as well. I hope the rest of the old tale will still be entertaining the second time around.

* * *

Chapter 2b - On The Wings Of Ravens


Teresa stood there and tried to understand what she had just seen. She stared down the open passageway as the sound of their boots faded into the distance. What in Tamriel was going on? she wondered. First a man dies at her feet, and then she meets the Emperor! Was this all a mad dream?

Dream or not, the secret passage was her only chance out of the cell. In the end that was all that Teresa really needed to know. Shadow hide me, she thought. Then she moved down the darkened passage, trying as best she could not to make a sound.

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At first it was nothing more than a tunnel roughly hewn through the ground, sloping ever downward. But soon it let out into an area of dusty stone chambers and passageways. Unlike the massive rectangular blocks of stone which fit perfectly together that she was used to seeing in the city above, the walls here were of smaller rocks of varying sizes, and held together by crumbling mortar. An aura of great age hung over the area like a shroud, only reinforced by the stale, dusty air that choked the Bosmer's throat. The place seemed empty and dead to her eyes, like a long abandoned tomb.

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The ring of steel on steel came to Teresa's ears from somewhere ahead, along with the yell of angry voices. The wood elf stopped in the darkness for a moment. It seemed distant, so she moved forward again, but more quietly and purposely than before. She wanted to know what was happening, but did not want anyone seeing her doing it.

Soon enough she was able to glimpse dark figures struggling in a large chamber in front of her. It was the Blades she had seen before, their curved swords flashing in the air against an unseen foe. A single, smaller figure hung back, holding a straight-bladed sword in his hand. The Emperor, Teresa guessed.

Whoever the enemy was, the bodyguards drove them off. She heard them say something about losing someone, and they seemed to be standing around a body for a moment. Then they moved on down the passage in haste.

Teresa followed more slowly. She felt for the magicka within her, and concentrated on the symbol of her Flare spell. Not for the first time, she thanked the magician who had taught it to her. Until now she had only used it on mud crabs. She hoped she would not need it for anything else…

She found that it was the Breton they had been talking about losing, for her body lay sprawled on the chamber floor. Teresa bent to take her weapon, but found that her sword was gone. One of the other Blades must have taken it, she thought.

Looking at the other bodies in the room, she found they were mortals. Her blood froze when she saw that they were clad in red-hooded robes. The same as she had seen in the alley! she thought. They were what the dying Imperial had been trying to warn her about! Who had he been? she wondered, a Blade in disguise? Or perhaps some poor nobody like herself who had just been swept up in the midst of this terrible storm?

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She reached for their weapons, but strangely she saw none in their dead hands or on the floor nearby. Yet she could have sworn that the figures she had seen had been armed, not only here, but in the alley...

She continued to follow through the empty passages, being sure to keep her distance from the Emperor and his guards. Several more times she heard the sound of combat ahead, and waited until it had passed before moving forward again. Each time she came upon more of the red-robed bodies.

Thankfully the Emperor and his bodyguards were winning, she thought, at least for the most part. She was not sure why that comforted her. It was not like Emperors meant anything to a street rat like herself. One was no different than another, all in their lofty tower far removed from the dark alleys where people like her struggled every day to survive.

Yet somehow, he was different, Teresa knew deep in her heart. She could still see his blue eyes gleaming in her mind's eye, burning to the very core of her being. It was a light that somehow warmed her with even just its memory, as if its fire somehow burned away the darkness that closed in from all sides.

Teresa shook her head and continued moving forward. Stop being gullible, she thought to herself. He was the Emperor, and she was nothing but a lowly prole. Even if he did know her name...

Teresa began to think that she was sneaking with the silence and grace of The Grey Fox as she shadowed them. That was until she came around a corner to find the Redguard standing over her with his curved sword ready to fall.

"Eeep!" Teresa squealed, and fell on her backside as she tried to jump away. The Blade just stood there with a look of disgust on his face, and lowered his weapon.

"It's just that Bosmer following us," he spat, not taking his eyes off Teresa, "not the assassins."

"We should kill her," the other Blade insisted. "She might be part of the plot."

"Nonsense!" the Emperor declared. Teresa would swear that his voice could level mountains. "Bring her here Baurus."

The Redguard reached out with his free hand, and without showing the merest trace of effort grabbed Teresa's sack cloth tunic and pulled her to her feet. Then grasping her arm in that iron grip, he walked her to where the Emperor of Tamriel waited.

"My path will soon end Teresa," the Emperor said to her, his voice now quieter and less overwhelming. "I have seen it in the stars, and in my dreams. But your path will go on. I know that you have an important part to play in this."

"I...um....I...." Teresa stammered, feeling like an idiot, then finally got her tongue to work. "I'm just a prole. There is nothing I can do."

"You have no idea what you can do," the Emperor said with a quiet smile. "But I do."

"There was a man today, an Imperial" she blurted out, keenly aware of how everyone was looking at her. "He died in front of me. He said they were going to try to kill someone. I didn't know…"

"Cnaeus!" the Redguard spat, "the legion found him this afternoon." The leather of the Blade's gauntlet creaked as he tightened his hand on the hilt of his sword and turned to Teresa. "You're in here for that!"

"It was the Red Robes!" the wood elf exclaimed, feeling her heart double its pace as she realized the Redguard was just an instant away from killing her, Emperor or not. "They stabbed him, with strange knives. They were chasing him. I didn't do it!"

"That is right, she did not kill Cnaeus," the Emperor said, turning to look at Baurus. His voice was soft, yet somehow reverberated through Teresa more clearly than a shout. As if it were somehow laden with steel. "She will come with us from now on," the old man continued, "now let us move on."

"Make yourself useful and carry this torch," Baurus said, releasing his grip on her arm and passing her the flaming brand that the last Blade held. "I do not know what the Emperor sees in you, but if he believes in you, that is good enough for me."

Teresa followed along, now part of Emperor Uriel Septim's entourage. Part of his bodyguard, she mentally corrected herself. Me, she thought, an orphan from the street, protecting the Emperor from assassins. Wait until she told Simplicia about this! she thought. The old woman would never believe it!

Her hand shook as she held the torch aloft to light their path. But she moved ahead nonetheless. The Emperor commanded it, and as much as she hated the legion, Teresa suddenly realized that she would do anything that man asked of her. He had a strange power. He did not make her feel afraid, as the soldiers did. Rather he made her feel..., something she could not explain, even to herself. She only knew that he was like no man she had ever met, or likely ever would again.

Aaaaaan the vulpine voom voom has arrived!!!

Let me also congratulate you on doing better the second time around. This is crisper, with a heightened sense of the dramatic.

I Do hope, however, that you will keep the sense on wonder and vulnerability that I first found appealing about Teresa when I first met her in your writing...I feel that somehow, that part of her is missing here, and we see someone slightly different.

One question-

"Looking at the other bodies in the room, she found they were mortals. "

As opposed to.... immortals? Gods? I'm a bit confused there.

Most of Teresa's wonder and vulnerability really shows through when she contrasts the outside world that she is walking through with her limited experience from the waterfront. There is no doubt SubRosa will strive to keep that stuff in there. Well, fingers crossed.


Those of us who have walked with Teresa from the very start will smile at that line!!

Agreed. Maybe we can attribute it to your own maturity as a writer, but I sense something of an edge in Teresa that wasn't there before. Not cynicism exactly, more like a world-weariness. The cool thing is that, in my opinion, this new attitude seems to fit who Teresa is more than before.

So far I believe this version of Teresa, especially when she speaks of the effect the Emperor has on her.

D.Foxy: Thank you DF.

I think what you are seeing is that I put a little more emphasis on Teresa's being a street urchin, and a lifetime of being treated like garbage by the people around her. Her thoughts that Emperor's in their lofty towers do not mean anything to an urchin, that no magistrate would ever believe her word, etc... That low self-esteem is something that has always driven Teresa. It is why she does not know how to take a compliment. Why she cannot think of herself as a hero, etc... I just wanted to show that a little more.

However, she still has all the same vulnerabilities as before. For example, she still falls flat on her rear (I did not say boat - darned forum!) when she comes around the corner and sees Baurus, her hand still shakes as she hold the torch he gives her.

Edit: forgot to mention. I used the term "mortal" because I did not know any ES catch-all term to use for elves, humans, khajiit, and argonians combined. Saying "person" does not sound right for a fantasy setting. "Humanoid" sounds too scientific. The old tabletop RPG Shadowrun had the term "Metahuman", and Earthdawn had "Namegiver", but those do not translate to ES either.


Winter Wolf: I think you hit the nail on the head there. Teresa's vulnerabilities do always show through when she deals with other people. Expect no real changes there.


Destri Melarg: As I said to Fox, I believe you are picking up on that low self-esteem of Teresa's.

I am glad the extra stuff I put in to reinforce the Emperor's power to inspire others is working. It was something I always wanted to get across, that he was a man who made everyone around him better. I was never really satisfied with the job I did of portraying that in the first go around.

* * *

Chapter 2c - On The Wings Of Ravens


They came to a dead end, the passage barred ahead of them by an iron gate that was locked from the other side. They backtracked to a side chamber that Baurus had noticed, and Teresa waited inside with the Emperor as the Redguard and the last Blade went out to scout down another passage.

"I know this place, I have seen it," the Emperor said in a harsh whisper, his eyes casting around the small room. "My end his here." He turned to face the slender wood elf. "However, your stars are not mine Teresa. You still have a destiny ahead of you."

"I don't know what you mean sir, um, your majesty," Teresa said, feeling overwhelmed. "I'm not a hero..."

"No you are not. Not yet," the Emperor said, his azure eyes locked onto hers. She tried to pull away from his stare, but she found she could not. His eyes drew hers like a lodestone, and again she felt that brilliant light they cast filling her up, making her feel taller, stronger, bolder, than she had ever felt before.

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

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

"The time has almost come," the Emperor said with resignation. He lifted the Amulet of Kings from his shoulders and placed it in her hand. "Take this. Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find the last of my sons."

"But surely Baurus should..." Teresa stammered, staring down at the gigantic ruby in her hand.

"Baurus cannot. Our enemy knows too much about me. They know him. They even know this secret passage well enough to lay a trap for me here," the Emperor insisted. Taking her hand, he pushed the amulet into one of the pockets in her sackcloth breeches. "You they do not know. You can fly past them unnoticed, like a bird in the night sky. You must do this. No one else can. Take the amulet to Jauffre and let nothing stop you. The world hangs in the balance!"

Just then the wall opened up behind him with a grating of stone on stone. Teresa's eyes widened in horror as she saw a man in red robes emerge, raising one hand in the air. A blue glow erupted from his fingers and fell in a ring around his body. As the energy passed by, it left him clad in what looked like metal armor, yet nothing a mortal smith would construct. In one hand he now held a wavy bladed dagger that looked more like the fang of a monster than an ordinary weapon. Exactly as she had seen in the hands of the assassins in the alley.

Teresa wanted to shout, to step up and strike at the assassin. Yet she found her feet rooted to the stone beneath her feet, and her tongue a motionless rock in her throat. Before she knew it, the Emperor pushed her back out of the way and drew his sword. But he was old, and too slow. The armored assassin was upon him in an instant, and the next thing the wood elf knew the great man's body was falling to the stone tiles in a fountain of blood.

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

Without thinking she picked up the sword from beside the Emperor's body and rose to meet his killer. The assassin's dagger flashed down, and without flinching Teresa raised her off hand to meet it. Its hard blade pierced her palm straight through and stuck tight in her bones. She did not make a sound however, nor even flinch as she thrust the sword up into the belly of the murderer. She was vaguely aware of him screaming as she twisted the blade and drew it back out. A moment later she stabbed him again, and this time tilted the blade upward and pushed it behind his ribs.

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

* * *

"We've failed, I've failed..." Teresa heard Baurus sigh as the world came back into focus, and with it the pain in her hand. "The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all of his heirs are dead."

"Not all of them," Teresa was more surprised than anyone to hear herself say. "There is one other. Someone named Jauffre knows who it is."

"Another son?" said Baurus, eyes widening in surprise. "Jauffre is the head of our order, if the Emperor entrusted anyone with that knowledge, it would be him. But how do you know?"

"The Emperor told me," Teresa said with effort, fighting the tightening in her throat as she looked down at his still form. She felt tears welling in her eyes, and it took every ounce of her will to resist them. Her heart was still racing from the battle, and she could not stop the trembling that coursed throughout her body, or the exhaustion creeping into her limbs.

Baurus' eyes followed hers, and a moment later he tossed the bloody sword of the Emperor aside and dropped to the floor beside his body. For a moment Teresa thought he was indeed going to start weeping. But then she saw he was running his hands through the folds in the old man's robe.

"The Amulet of Kings!" he hissed, turning his face back to hers, "where is it!"

Teresa blinked at the sudden change of his demeanor, but only for a moment. She drew the amulet from her pocket and held it out to him.

"He gave it to me," she said, looking back down on the Emperor. "He said I should take it to Jauffre. He said no one else could."

"The Emperor said that?" Baurus blinked, rising to his feet. He placed one hand over Teresa's own and gently pushed the amulet back to her breast. "Then you must do as he said."

"How? I saw it all happen, right in front of my eyes. I couldn't stop it...." Now she did begin to cry. "I just can't do this..."

"The Emperors see things, know things, that lesser mortals cannot," Baurus explained. "They say it is the dragon blood that flows through their veins. If he said so, then you must go to Jauffre."

"But I do not even know where to find him!" she exclaimed, waving her hand for emphasis. The motion sent a white hot bolt of pain lancing through her wounded palm. Doubling over as she cradled her bloody hand, the wood elf gritted her teeth and moaned. "Look at me. Do I look like a hero?"

"Here, take this healing potion, it is the last one I have left." Baurus said, reaching into a pouch at his waist and drawing forth a blue vial.

But Teresa waved him off with her good hand, still clutching the Amulet of Kings in it. Concentrating upon the healing spell she had learned so long ago, she drew her magicka up from within her. She pictured her hand, not torn and bloody as it was now, but rather whole and unharmed. Letting her magicka loose through that image, a white light burst from her fingers and washed over her body. The flesh closed around the wound as the light faded, but Teresa could still feel pain throbbing deep within her palm. Once more she cast the spell, then again, until finally it subsided.

"Oh you're a stubborn one aren't you," Baurus said with what Teresa thought might be a tinge of respect. It was something that she was not accustomed to hearing in other people's voices. "Good. It looks like there is more to you than you give yourself credit for."

"Yeah," Teresa muttered, staring from her hand to the body of the assassin. "It's been a night of surprises alright."

She had never killed anyone in her life, she thought, nor even seriously imagined doing so. Yet here a man - and a hardened killer to be certain - lay dead at her own hand. She did not feel the slightest twinge of regret, except that she had not been able to kill him sooner.

But it did seem strange to her. She could barely remember any of it. She could not even recall consciously deciding to pick up the sword and attack the assassin. All she could remember was the outrage that she felt at seeing the Emperor die. Somehow it had just taken control of her. Teresa had never thought she had that kind of anger in her, yet she had never met anyone like Uriel Septim before either.

"You will have to get off the City Isle and go west, to Weynon Priory. It is just outside of Chorrol," Baurus said. "Stay off the roads, we don't know if the assassins will be looking. They probably would not know you anyway, but at this point we cannot take any more chances."

"What about you, and the other man?" Teresa said, looking for the last Blade, who was nowhere in sight.

"He's dead," Baurus stated plainly, nudging the assassin's body with his boot. "We were ambushed while this one here did his work. I have to stay here with the Emperor's body. I will cover your escape in case there are more."

"You should come with me," Teresa reasoned. "I've never been outside the city. If I run into trouble in the wilderness..."

"No," Baurus shook his head. "Believe me, no one is more surprised than I am that I am sending an escaped prisoner off with the Amulet of Kings. But the Emperor trusted you, and I trust him. Besides, the assassins know who I am, and they know my place is by the Emperor's side, even if he is dead. If they see me running to Weynon they will know something is happening. They will suspect there is a last Septim that they missed. They must never know that!"

Teresa nodded. His logic was inescapable. She put the amulet back in her pocket and leaned down to pick up the sword the Emperor had been carrying. It was a plain steel arming sword, the kind any legionary might use. It hardly seemed like the weapon of an Emperor.

"You will need that. It belonged to a legionary who tried to help us in the prison," said Baurus, who then dug a heavy iron key from one of his belt pouches and handed it to Teresa. "Take this too. It will open the grate at the sewer exit. That is where we had been going. By the smell of that secret passage, it leads there too. Now you had better get going."

Teresa nodded. Gripping the sword in one hand, she wiped the tears and blood from her face with the other. Then she headed down the passage that the assassin had come from.

"Talos guide you," she heard Baurus say behind her.

Nice piece. I like how you're developing the character of Teresa, she still has the underlying vulnerability she showed earlier but the Emperor (and his death) seems to have changed her slightly. She seems more confident and stronger for it.

Good stuff. Really nice to read.

This entire chapter was extremely well written, but here is something that really stood out to me:

The Emperor’s explanation for why it must be Teresa who takes the Amulet of Kings to Weynon Priory, and the explanation that Baurus gives for why he can’t accompany her are both great. I especially like the fact that Baurus sees enough of how unlikely the situation is that he chooses to comment on it.



I beg to differ Baurus, I think that maybe Teresa might be ‘more surprised’.

You have absolutely excelled with the re-writes. They are not so extensive as to alter the bones of the great story (and its wonderful protagonist), but they do exactly as you said- highlight aspects of Teresa's history and personality. Add the "meta-themes" (motifs?) that will come to fruition far in the future and- well, I am speechless. All I can say is that you have achieved the feat of taking an already brilliant story and making it even better.

Olen: Thank you Olen. You are correct about the Emperor. He is the catalyst that changes Teresa forever. He will always be the measuring stick that she compares herself to.


Destri Melarg: Thank you Dest. This part of the MQ is one of the weakest. The whole concept is really ridiculous. It only has the Emperor's visions and the Blade's faith in him to drive it. So I did my best to emphasize both, and tried to keep it from seeming too contrived. Under the circumstances, I thought it really demanded a blunt statement by one of the characters about how crazy it was.


treydog: Thank you T. We will be seeing some less subtle examples of those motifs coming in a few chapters.


* * *

Chapter 3a - Masser's Light

12th Second Seed, 3E433

Baurus had been right; the passage led directly to the sewers. It was a place of dark, wet stone. Wet with what Teresa would rather not think about. The smell was bad enough. Occasional pools of light fell from grates in the ceiling high above, illuminating narrow walkways that hugged the walls of the tunnel, while a wide channel of water and sludge flowed down its center. She followed the tunnel down the direction the water was flowing, reasoning that it must empty into the lake that surrounded the City Isle.

Screenshot

Teresa soon found that she was not alone in the dark tunnel. When she first heard the sounds she thought it must be more of the assassins. But she soon learned that was in fact something else entirely as she sneaked closer. These creatures walked upright like mortals, but were short and hunched over, with misshapen heads and limbs. There were several of them gathered around what looked to be a body that lay on one of the walkways.

Teresa was glad she had left the torch behind, otherwise the creatures would have seen her. She was not sure just what they were. She thought they might be goblins. But she had never seen one, so she could not be sure. She did know that there were three of them and only one of her however, so the last thing she wanted was a fight, even though she was larger than any of them.

The problem was there was no other way for her to go except through them. There had been no side-passages behind her, only this one winding tunnel. So she waited in the shadows, hoping they would not see her. As she watched, she saw that they were definitely looting the body they were clustered around.

One lifted something above its head, and Teresa's heart leaped. By the silhouette, it was a strung bow. She actually knew how to use that, thanks to long hours of practice with her fellow street rat and archer Methredhel. If she could get her hands on it, she thought, she might be able to do something against them.

Then another of the creatures lifted a small pouch from the body, and Teresa could hear the distinctive jingling of coins from within. The other two creatures both stopped what they were doing and looked at the first. Then almost as if on cue they dropped what they were holding and all grabbed for the pouch with a host of eager squeals.

Teresa tucked her legion sword into her rope belt, hoping that its blade would not slice it to ribbons. Then she concentrated on the symbol of her Flare spell, feeling for the magicka within her in case she needed to use it. While the creatures played tug of war with the coins she sneaked closer. They were becoming rough, and one jumped over the body and landed atop the first creature, sending both of them sprawling in the direction opposite from Teresa. The third followed a moment later, leaving the way to the body - and the bow - wide open.

This was her chance! Teresa thought. No longer trying to be sneaky, she ran up and grabbed the bow. When she drew near she also saw a bag of arrows laying on the walkway beside the body. She caught that up in her free hand as well, and as one of the creatures turned to look at her, she sped back down the tunnel in the direction from which she come.

She heard the squealing of the creatures behind her take on a new tone, and a few moments later the sound of pounding feet echoed in the tunnel behind her. The footsteps had an odd scratching sound to them, like the footsteps of a cat or dog on a hard floor. Racing back to the first turn of the tunnel, she stopped and dropped the bag of arrows, deftly catching one in her hand as the rest clattered to the ground.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she raised the bow and nocked the arrow on its string, silently thanking the Nine that neither had gotten wet in the sewage. She did not really think about her actions; hours of practice had taught her body to do what was needed. Drawing the string back to half tension, she sighted the arrow on the center of the first dark shape coming down the tunnel. Then she pulled the string back to her ear with every ounce of strength in her arms and shoulders and loosed.

Wasting no time to see if she had hit, she anxiously bent down to yank another arrow from the bag. A high-pitched scream came from down the hall, and a moment later she heard a loud splash. She rose and pulled the bow to half tension once more, noticing a thrashing in the water in the center of the tunnel. She ignored it, and just as before she quickly sighted her arrow at what looked like the center of the dark shape of the second creature ahead. Then she pulled the string back to full tension and loosed.

She felt that same cold rage inside her that she had felt when fighting the assassin. Only this time it was not all-consuming, not so personal. Instead it was a hard serpent in her chest wanting to strike out and kill. Hard enough to steady the tremble that Teresa could feel ready to course through her frame, and cold enough drown out the thundering of blood in her ears. She let that cold fury drive her as she reached for a third arrow.

But the second creature did not go down as the first had, and before she could draw her bow another time it was upon her. Teresa saw a short blade glittering in its hand, and now panic did flood through her. Backing away, her sandaled foot slipped in the muck and she fell onto the walkway as the arrow fell from her fingers. The creature loomed above her like a wraith, raising its weapon in its hand. With a scream she threw her hands up in front of her, reflexively turning loose the magicka within her as she did.

The bolt of fire from her Flare spell illuminated the sewer in red light, briefly giving Teresa her first good look at her enemies. They were green-skinned creatures, having huge, pointed ears and elongated skulls packed with dagger-like teeth. Their arms were bony and terminated with clawed fingers, and their legs were similarly thin, ending in bare feet tipped by claws.

The goblin - as Teresa was now certain it must be - gave out a short scream that cut off in mid exhale. The stench of roasted meat overpowered the effluvium of the sewer in her nostrils. Then the creature limply fell onto her, still hot and smoking from the flame that had burned its life away.

The twang of a bow shot filled Teresa's ears. A shock ran through the limp body of the goblin, and a moment later she saw the feathered end of an arrow protruding from its back. The third goblin was an archer, Teresa realized as she pushed the corpse off of her and scrabbled on all fours around the corner of the tunnel.

Her body shook as she reached for another arrow. The familiar action seemed to steady her nerves however, and once more she felt that cold hardness within her rise to the fore. She stood and took a deep breath. Raising the bow and drawing it to half tension, she stepped sideways around the corner and back into the tunnel.

Screenshot

She let half of her breath flow from her lips and sighted in on the goblin archer down the tunnel. Pulling back the string to her cheek, a moment later her arrow was in flight. Then she stepped back around the corner to ready another. Even as she moved, she heard the twang of a bowshot come from down the hall and gritted her teeth. But the goblin's arrow did not find her as she stepped to safety.

She heard a brief screech from the tunnel, followed by a heavy thud. A moment later Teresa stepped back into the hall with another arrow ready. The goblin archer was nowhere in sight. He must be down, she reasoned. The first goblin she had shot was still thrashing in the muck in the middle of the sewer. She stepped closer with her bow at half tension. Now she could see that her arrow had pierced his leg at the knee.

That must really hurt, she thought without the slightest bit of compassion. She walked up to the edge of water channel and stared at the creature. The goblin stopped thrashing and glared back up at her, eyes blazing with hatred. With one smooth motion of her bow, Teresa finished it.

Your combat this time around is much better - it shows how you have matured as a writer! Kudos!

It's been a while since I read the original chapter, but this reads so much smoother than I recall. I agree with Foxy - Kudos!

Excellent work!

Just read through it and I really am starting to enjoy it

I especially love the screen shots that you are putting in, it adds a bit more to the story me thinks ^^,

I've also figured out the subscribe button thingey on the forums so I shall be watching this very closely

The gutter rat of the Waterfront is proving that the goblins are no match for her.
Go girl!!!

I go to you and Acadian for inspiration in how to describe combat with a bow. This chapter certainly didn't disappoint. I know that you are a fan of quiet reflective chapters, but that doesn't mean that you aren't versatile enough to do combat well.

D.Foxy & haute ecole rider: Thank you both. I used the opportunity of the re-write to tweak the description of the combat at bit.


Fiach: Thank you Fiach. I have the game on PC so I figure I might as well take screenshots. In fact, I have about a dozen different saves just for making them.


Winter Wolf: Thank you Wolf. They are lucky she did not rob them blind first!


Destri Melarg: Thank you Dest.


* * *

Chapter 3b - Masser's Light

The tunnel fell into a silence that was only pierced by the steady dripping of water and the sound of Teresa's own gasping breaths. The skin of her left arm ached where the bowstring had rubbed against it with every shot, and her fingers throbbed in pain from releasing it with her bare hands. That was what she got for using a bow without an arm bracer and a shooting glove, she thought.

Looking down at her hands, Teresa saw that they were trembling. A moment later she dropped to the stone floor, shaking all over. Her heart pounded like a hammer in her chest, and the pain in her arm and fingers became worse and worse.

Yet in spite of it all, she felt exhilaration coursing through her body. She was alive! she thought, she had faced three goblins and she was alive! She sat there, just happy to still be breathing, and waited for her hands to stop shaking.

Once they did she concentrated upon her healing spell, then released her magicka with a glow of white light that fell around her body. This time it only required a single casting for the pain in the scraped skin of her arm and fingers to stop.

The wood elf rose to take a closer look at the body the goblins had been fighting over. It was a man, an Imperial perhaps, and did not seem to have been dead for long. He was dressed from head to toe in brown leather, including a thick cuirass that could not be mistaken for anything except armor. His head was bare except for a curious-looking pair of goggles that he wore. An arrow had pierced his leg, and his throat was torn out in a huge gash.

The work of the goblins no doubt, Teresa thought. But who was he? He was not a legionary, or one of those assassins, that was for certain. Was he a thief? she wondered. She had heard that some of them used the sewers as an underground road, hidden from the eyes of the Imperial Legion. What about the goblins themselves? Was it normal for such creatures to live so near to the city? Just under its nose in fact?

Teresa shook her head. She would probably never know the answers to her questions, she reasoned. All that mattered right now was that she was still alive, and she had to get moving.

Still, her street instincts moved her to gather up the bag of coins the goblins had been fighting over. Likewise she pulled the leather cuirass from the dead man's frame a moment later and settled it upon her own shoulders. It felt heavy and uncomfortable, but if there were more goblins ahead it might save her life, she thought. His gloves followed soon after, and rifling through his belongings she discovered a dagger and a handful of lockpicks. Of varying shapes and sizes, there seemed to be one of the latter for every type of lock imaginable.

Looking over his boots, she shook her head when she realized that both of her feet could fit into one of them, and left them behind. She briefly considered trying to take his greaves, but the idea of leaving him laying naked in the tunnel just seemed wrong to her. Finally, she pulled the goggles from the dead man's head and settled them over her own eyes out of curiosity.

She was startled when the tunnel suddenly lit up as if it were under the noon day sun. She could see every individual stone in the walls, and every droplet of water that fell from the ceiling. A shaft of light from a grating in the ceiling ahead was so bright that it was nearly blinding, prompting her to turn her head away. Strangest of all, nearly all of the color had vanished from the world, reducing it to a grayish landscape broken only the occasional bits of muted red or yellow.

It was just like a Night Eye spell, Teresa thought. She had made enough potions of it for thieves in the guild to know. She knew that many of them preferred it to normal vision when they did their work, as it allowed them to see in the dark without making any light that would give them away.

A quick rummage through the corpses of the goblins yielded no great treasures as the dead thief had. They carried little more than crude iron daggers and wore filthy loincloths. The archer had a brace of arrows, but when Teresa inspected them she found they were smaller, shorter, and thinner than those she had found on the thief. They also appeared to be tipped with soft iron, where his were plainly of good hard steel. So while she strapped the arrow bag of the thief around her waist, she left the goblin's arrows behind, as she knew they would only make her misjudge her shots if she tried to use them. Once she got used to the heavier arrows of the thief that was.

That is when it occurred to her that if the last goblin had not been an archer, but instead had charged in at her as the first two had, she would probably be dead. The thought gave her a chill, and brought the tremble back to her hands. She had panicked when the second goblin was upon her, she thought. What would she have done if the third had been right behind with a knife or club? What should she do differently the next time, to be prepared for that? she wondered.

Suddenly she stopped and realized what she was doing. She was assessing weapons and tactics, as if she did this sort of thing for a living. As if she was going to continue doing so. She sounded like the legionaries did when they talked about fighting. She sounded like a warrior...

Her head spun. She was a nobody, she thought, a prole; just an orphan from the slum with no past and no future. Yet here she was alive and well, after fighting and killing an assassin and then three goblins all on her own. A curious sensation filled her chest. It was warm, comforting, and made her stand a little straighter. It was something she had never felt before, and it took a while for her to understand what it was. It was pride, she finally realized as a faint smile came to her lips. For the first time in her life, she felt truly proud of herself.

The smell of feces interrupted her chain of thought however. Proud or not, she was still in a sewer. It was time to go.

She started off down the tunnel, getting used to the weight of the leather cuirass. She did not like it at all. It was too big in the shoulders, too tight in the chest, loose in the waist, and tight again in the hips. Clearly, she thought, it had not been made for her sex.

In time the tunnel narrowed and turned into a round tube, while the dry ledges to either side vanished. With no other choice, Teresa waded into the mire and pushed on to what she hoped would soon be the exit.

Screenshot

Not very long afterward the light seemed to brighten in the tunnel ahead of her, prompting Teresa to stop and raise her free hand to her face. Carefully grasping the Night Eye goggles to avoid smearing muck over the lenses, she drew them up from her eyes and rested them on her forehead.

The tunnel was plunged into shadows that obscured everything in dark swathes. Yet in that near inky darkness she could make out a red glow ahead. It was steady, not the guttering of a torch or lantern, and her heart leaped at the thought that she might finally be nearing the way out of the dank and dark underworld.

She tried not to get her hopes up too high and drew the goggles back down over her eyes. Once again the colors of the world dissolved into a dull grey. Looking more closely ahead, she saw what she thought might be bars blocking the tunnel far ahead.

Gripping her bow tightly in hand, she slowly crept forward. She stayed as near to the wall as she could because the goo was not as deep there. It occurred to her that it would also prevent her from creating a silhouette in the tunnel, and she suddenly felt pleased with herself for being such a professional sneak, even if it was completely by accident.

She came to a gate of rusted iron bars that blocked the passage. She could smell fresh air now, and hear the lapping of water beyond. Fumbling through the pockets of her sack cloth breeches, Teresa produced the heavy iron key that Baurus had given her. With trembling hands she put it into the large square lock, but before she could turn it, she found the door swinging open under her hand.

She remembered the lockpicks she found on the thief's body. Perhaps he had picked the lock to enter this way? Or maybe the goblins had? She shrugged. It did not really matter, she thought, because now she was free.

Moving through the door, she found herself standing at the end of the stone tunnel, with the vastness of Lake Rumare spread out before her. Again Teresa pushed the goggles up on her forehead, but this time did not fuss about the lenses. The giant moon Masser glowed above her with roseate light, and the night sky around it glittered with a thousand silver stars.

Teresa looked down at herself. The sack cloth breeches that she wore were soaked with filth and blood, as was the leather cuirass and gauntlets that she had appropriated in the tunnels. Squatting down by the edge of the water, she stared at her reflection with disgust. Her pale skin was as grimy as her clothing, and her long brown hair was matted with blood.

Without a second thought she cast her bow and arrow bag aside and leaped into the water. It was cool, clean, and caressed her like the touch of the mother that she always wished she had. Staying under the surface as long as her lungs would allow, she rose up and took a deep breath of fresh air.

Then she set to pulling off her gloves, sandals, and cuirass. She knew the water would ruin the leather, but it was not like any of it had been in pristine condition to begin with, and there was no way she was going to put it back on her skin the way it was. Her sack cloth breeches and shirt followed, until finally she stood naked in the lake and let her body sink into the cool embrace of the water.

Ahhhh....feels like the first time I read your writing...

Who said you can't go home again?

That chapter was awesome. The pick of the bunch no doubt. It had perfect pace and flow, great description and a top notch ending. Bravo.


I really loved this part of the story. The style with which you write reflection is second to none.

Oh, yes, that bath at the end of the sewers. That is almost a ritual for me, a rite of passage, if you will. Nice to see that echoed here again.

The flow of this pieve is very good. It all reads smoothly and happens at the right rate to keep me fixed without rushing. I like the character development too, it seems the prouder warrior side was always there but now she's found it it will come to the fore.

Nice word choice there.

That line made me smile.

We finally get a faint smile from Teresa!

This chapter was peaceful, but certainly not quiet. You continue to develop the character before our eyes, from her revulsion at taking the dead man’s greaves to her growing sense of pride and her recognition of the reasoning of a thief.

I always thought it was very interesting that the game opens by forcing you to wade through a sewer for your freedom. I am glad to see that in Teresa’s world a sewer is a sewer, in all of its disgusting glory. That bath at the end is, as hautee put it, ‘a rite of passage’ that precedes Teresa’s entry into her new life.

Very Shawshank Redemption.

That would be Thomas Wolfe, and that is not until Chapter 6...


Winter Wolf: Thank you Wolf. There were a lot of questions there that needed addressing. As often happens IRL, Teresa will never know the answers.


haute ecole rider: "It's been years since I waded through sewers for fun." OOps, wrong game.


Olen: Thank you Olen. All of her life, Teresa has never known what she is capable of. Everyone around her has told her that she is a loser, and she believed them. The Emperor changed all that. Now the person who has been buried under the muck of Teresa's life is finally emerging.

As much as I would like to take the credit for roseate, I must admit that I have seen hot collie use it so often that I was inspired to steal it...


Destri Melarg: Yes, the first faint smile! About time too eh? Well, there are many more to come. I am tempted to go back to the prologue and tweak the first paragraph a bit to get a faint smile in there as well. Seeing that the thread is named after that trait, it does seem kind of odd that we do not see one until Chapter 3.

Good eye by yourself and haute on the initiation of the bath at the end of the sewers. It not only cleans her of the physical muck from her prison experience, but also washes away her old life as well. When she emerges, she is forever changed, born into a new life. We will begin seeing some of the evidence of that this next post.

* * *

Chapter 4a - For The Emperor

12th - 23rd Second Seed, 3E433

Still dripping with water from her bath, Teresa dressed and took in her surroundings. Far in the distance across the lake from her she could just barely make out a crumbling ruin of white stone blocks. Its elegant, curved spires were broken and its walls shattered. For some reason it made her think of White Gold Tower in the center of the Imperial City. She had heard that had been built by the Ayleids long before the Empire had ever existed. So she imagined that the ruins might have been built by them as well. She saw the distant glow of a campfire somewhere in the fallen stones, and wondered who might be there. Probably no one she wanted to meet, Teresa reasoned.

Looking behind her she could see the massive, dark stone blocks of the Imperial Prison looming high up on the hill that crowned the City Isle, and beyond that the even greater mass of the city itself in the distance. She certainly did not want to go back that way either, she thought. One experience in the Imperial Prison had been enough for a lifetime!

Teresa knew the prison was at the north side of the City Isle, and Baurus had said that Weynon was west of the city, across the lake. So she reasoned that if she kept the city to her left and followed the shore that should take her in the right direction. She would just have to hope she found a place to cross somewhere as she travelled.

So bow in hand she began to walk along the shore. Here and there she stopped when she noticed plants that she knew had alchemical properties. She could sell those to Claudette at the Gilded Carafe back in the Imperial City, Teresa thought. She might even use them herself once she got back to the Waterfront shack where she had her mortar and pestle hidden.

She had learned a long time ago to grind up simple poisons to sell to the thieves and ruffians on the Waterfront, she thought. They were always looking for an edge; to see in the dark, become invisible, or quite simply to poison someone. Most did not want to spend the time to learn to make potions themselves. Teresa, on the other hand, had nothing but time. It was not like she was going out robbing people or drinking herself silly in the taverns after all.

What would people think of her back in the city when they heard this story? Teresa wondered. Then again, maybe it would be better if she never mentioned it to anyone. No sense admitting to escaping from prison after all, she thought. The less anyone knew about that, the better.

A familiar clicking sound broke her from her reverie. It was a mud crab, she knew. She had run across many of them at the Waterfront. Nasty creatures, she thought as she looked around for it. Then she spotted it coming out of the water behind her, its beady eyes staring directly at her and pincers reaching out.

Teresa stepped back to give herself plenty of room. Then readying her Flare spell, she gestured at the creature and loosed a bolt of fire into its shell. It jumped and began to furiously click its pincers at her. Teresa fired another bolt and it fell into a smoldering heap on the shore.

The smell of the roasted crab meat brought a growl from her stomach. How long had it really been since she had last eaten? Teresa wondered. Too long, her stomach replied with another moan. She descended on the crab with gusto, cracking open its still-hot shell with her hands and digging out the meat with her fingers. She had always like crab, it was usually the only fresh thing she was ever able to eat.

Eating her fill, Teresa continued on her journey west along the shore. She came across another sewer exit after a few miles. Like the prison, once in there was enough for a lifetime as well, she thought, and steered well clear of it.

By now the sky was lightening to the east, and Teresa began to find it difficult to keep her eyes open. Casting about for a place to sleep, she found a large clump of bushes not too far inland and hid herself within. She did not want the assassins finding her, she thought, nor the Imperial Legion for that matter. No sooner had she lain down, she found herself falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

She was standing in a large cavern. Unlike the corridors and chambers underneath the Imperial Prison, its rough stone was carved out by the forces of nature. Shadows clung to the walls of the cave, and the wood elf sensed that deeper pools of darkness within them were of smaller tunnels leading further into the bowels of Nirn.

Before her however, the ceiling of the cavern was open to the sky. Shafts of yellow sunlight slanted through the gaping hole, illuminating the center of the chamber in golden light. Beneath these fingers of the sun Teresa saw a large pool of water, and as she approached it she found that its crystal clear waves held a small forest of marine plants gently waving under its surface.

Teresa stood in the light of the sun for long moments, allowing it to bathe her in its light. Then she sat, sliding her bare legs into the clear water. It was warm against her skin, and she watched how the water bent the image of her legs as she gently kicked them back and forth under the waves.

That is when she realized she was not alone in the cavern. A dark figure loomed across the pool from her. Standing at the edge of the shadows, it seemed to be wearing a black cloak, whose hood completely obscured its head. Somehow Teresa sensed the figure was female, although how she knew that was a mystery to her, as the cloak she wore betrayed no features at all.

Teresa's breath caught in her throat, and she quickly pulled her legs from the water. Leaping to her feet, the wood elf stared at the other woman. Yet the dark figure did not move. Teresa was not sure if she even breathed.

* * *

Teresa woke as the sun was lowering on the western horizon. Shaking her head at the fleeting memory of the dream, she rose to her feet and cast about herself. There was no grotto, no pool, and certainly no cloaked figure. She was completely alone by the lake shore. The only sounds that came to her ears were the lapping of waves from the nearby lake, and the distant cawing of crows.

Well, that had certainly been strange, the wood elf thought as she stretched her limbs. Yet the more awake she felt, the more the details of the dream slipped away from her memory. It should come as no surprise to have odd dreams, she imagined, given what she had been through. Let alone spending her first night alone in the wilderness.

She shrugged, giving the dream no more thought as the weight in her pocket drew her attention. While there was still some daylight remaining she drew forth the Amulet of Kings. For the first time since the Emperor had given it to her she examined it closely.

The central red stone was huge, easily the size of her palm, and cut into a diamond shape. She had originally thought it was a ruby because of its red color. However, now that she took the time to really study it, she saw that it seemed to pulse with an inner red glow. As she watched its surface, she could swear she saw tiny shifts and eddies of color, as if some energy were swirling beneath the crystalline surface of the gem. Clearly, it was no ordinary jewel, she thought.

A gold band wrapped around the main stone, and was also diamond shaped. Eight smaller gemstones were laid into the band equally along its length. Sapphires, emeralds, pearls, and a few she was not sure about. The entire thing was held by a great gold chain. It was remarkably light for its size, and Teresa could swear that it felt warm in her hands.

Out of curiosity, she lifted the chain around her head and dropped it onto her shoulders. Yet somehow it slipped from her fingers and fell into her lap instead. She tried again, with the same result. Then she undid the clasp on the chain, and this time looped it around her neck and then tried to snap it shut once more. Again, she found the amulet falling loose from her grasp.

So it was true, Teresa thought. Only someone with the blood of the kings could wear the amulet. Now she saw why it was so important. It would prove who the rightful Emperor was, and who was not.

This was really good.

I noticed the dream is new this time around. Interesting. I'm sure you're using pagan imagery, but I can't help thinking of the Native American myths of the spirit guide, as well as the Druidic system of mentoring. This is very TES-flavored, and excellent foreshadowing.

I did notice one thing:

Judging from the context, especially the sentence that follows, are you missing a not?

I'm interested in seeing the role this dark figure plays in Teresa's life in the future. I have a feeling it's going to be something along the lines of that "snake in the belly" feeling Julian gets from time to time.

Ah, reading this brings me back to the first time I read this story, way back on the old forums. I was late then, and I'm a little late to the story now. old habits die hard, I suppose.

Anyway, I love rereading the beginning of Teresa's story, especially now that you've improved and added some things. Kinda miss some of the things that you bring in much later in the story, but a fresh view of an semi-old tale never hurts. Great job, and I can't wait to see how else you tweak these first moments of Teresa's story..

haute ecole rider: You are right on all counts. Neo-Paganism is an all-you-can-eat salad bar sort of religion. We take things from all over the place, including the discipline of Psychology (especially Jungian). Then there is Core Shamanism, which is a collection of Shamanic practices from all over the globe - North & South American Native religion, Australian, Siberian, etc... that all are startling in their similarities. The names for things change, but little else. Witchcraft itself is the last remnant of European Shamanic practices that go back to the Stone Age (obviously having seen some changes over the millenia), so it does mesh very well with them.

The scene in the grotto, and following ones in the same vein, are all drawn entirely from my own personal experiences. They are actually a mix, some with the goddess whom I am dedicated to, and some with my spirit guide. My own practice has a very strong Shamanic influence, so it will come as no surprise to see it also strongly parallels the traditions you mentioned.

If it does seem to have a strong TES flavor, that is purely by accident, because I am totally throwing the TES lore (what there is of it) out the window with this. It does work well with generic fantasy settings however, so that is probably the sense you are getting.

And you were right about my missing not, thank you for wrangling it up with that horsey nose of yours.


Broken-Scale: Hi Scale! Welcome to Chorrol. I am glad you like Teresa 2.0. The good thing about taking the time to go back is that when I do finally get to where I left off, it should be much stronger than before, because I am writing with an eye for building foundations. Old habits die hard is someone else's story though...


* * *

Chapter 4b - For The Emperor

Setting aside the amulet, Teresa took the time for a quick soak in the lake and set off westward again, looking for another crab for dinner. It did not take very long for one to turn up and fill her stomach with its succulent meat. She came across some berries soon after and gathered them up for later, along with a clump of asparagus.

Teresa marveled at the beauty of the wilderness as she made her way along the shore. She had never imagined it would be like this. She had always thought the world outside the city was a dark and terrifying place. But instead it was quiet and almost peaceful if you did not count the mud crabs. The air was clean in her lungs, and everything was wide open around her. It was a world with no limits, filled with color and life.

It was long after dark when she saw the light of a torch deeper inland. Pulling her goggles down over her eyes, she looked closer. The light of the brand hurt her eyes, but she could at least see everything its flame did not illuminate. There was a large clump of towering rocks, she saw, and what appeared to be a rough wooden door leading into them. To either side of the door was hung a long string of skulls, and in front of it was the torchbearer himself, a goblin holding an axe with his free hand.

So much for peaceful, Teresa thought, and instantly dropped into a crouch. Then she realized that she was far outside of the illumination of the goblin's torch and stood back up. Looking to either side, there was no sign of any other goblins. It was just him and her.

She drew an arrow from the bag fastened to her right hip and set it on the nock. Raising the bow, she pulled it to half-tension and sighted in on the goblin. He was a long way off, so she raised her bow to compensate. It would be a difficult shot, but she knew she could make it.

But should she make it? Teresa found herself wondering. She knew the goblin would kill her without hesitation, so she felt no sympathy for it. But there were probably others of its kind in the cave. Sooner or later another goblin would come out to find him dead, she knew. Then they might go looking to see who did it, and having a tribe of goblins hunting her would not be good.

She lowered her bow and put the arrow back in its bag. This was your lucky day goblin, she thought. Giving the cave a wide berth, Teresa continued to make her way west along the island. She also realized something. Just because she could kill, it did not mean she should. That was a very sobering thought, especially when she wondered how many others might look at her in the future and have to make the same decision.

In time she came to the edge of a massive wooden bridge that extended north across the lake, which was perhaps only half a mile wide at this point. Once again she saw the light of a torch ahead of her, this time on the span itself. Only now it was moving, crossing from the opposite shore to her side of the lake. The sound of hooves clomping on wood came to her ears, and as the torch came nearer she could see it was a single legionary riding a horse.

The law, Teresa thought, just what she needed. She was not sure what was worse, them or the goblins. She wondered if they were looking for her? Or had her escape gone unnoticed in the chaos that must have followed the death of the Emperor?

She briefly thought Baurus might have cleared her name. But then she realized that might tip off the assassins and make them start looking for her. So he had probably done nothing, Teresa reasoned. That meant she was on her own, as she had been ever since she stepped foot in the sewers under the prison.

Teresa sat as still as she could in the bushes and hoped the legionary would not notice her. Her heart beat loudly in her chest as he came near. It seemed so deafening to her that he must surely hear it. Her hands were damp with sweat, and she found that her lips had gone dry. The last thing she wanted was to have to tangle with a legionary. They were metal-clad monsters who lived to fight, she thought. Worse, if you killed one of them the rest would never stop hunting you. They would track you down and butcher you no matter what it took.

She could smell the horse as the soldier came alongside her. The crackling of his torch was loud in her ears, loud enough to drown out the roaring of her heart, and she held herself absolutely still. Shadow hide me, she prayed.

Then he was past her and riding down the road deeper inland. Teresa let out a sigh of relief, only then realizing that she had been holding her breath. She waited in the brush until he was long out of sight, and only then rose and quickly scuttled across the bridge.

Reaching the other side without incident, she continued her way west down a wooden dock that hugged the shore. She found several crates and barrels on it, but all were empty except for huge spools of rope, which she imagined must be to tie boats up to the pier.

Dawn was nearing, and Teresa felt exhaustion settling into her once again. Finding another hiding spot, she laid down for another day's sleep. She always had preferred sleeping in the daylight, she mused as she drifted off. The night was so much more comforting to be out and about in.

Once more she woke in late afternoon. She could not believe how late she was sleeping. But then again, she had never been through anything like this before. Being poor, she had always walked everywhere she needed to go in the city, rather than riding a horse or carriage as the rich people did. But she had never made a trek like this before either. Let alone ever killed people...

She risked another quick dip in the lake to wash off the dirt and dust of traveling then resumed her march west along the lake shore. She found a fisherman's shack not too far from the dock, and stopped to buy bread and fruit from the owner, using some of the money she had found on the dead thief in the sewer.

Soon the lake curved away to her left, and far down its coast she could make out a gigantic bridge that spanned the miles of water between the City Isle and the far shore. Not a simple wooden affair such as the one she had crossed, but rather a massive stone edifice. She knew that was the West Bridge, outside of the Talos Plaza district. She had seen it often enough from the Waterfront.

So Weynon must be somewhere directly ahead of her, she reasoned. With that in mind she left the lake behind and continued west, plunging headlong into the great forest. It was long after dark when she passed what she imagined must be the Red Ring Road that she had heard surrounded the city on the outer shore of the lake.

After that the only sign of habitation she came across was a broken fort, which she gave a wide berth. With the sky full of stars and the twin moons casting their light down upon the landscape she could see well enough that she did not need the goggles. Teresa liked how they illuminated everything, but not how they turned the world a dull grey. She would only use those when she really had to, she thought.

Traveling through the night, Teresa marveled at the beauty of the forest around her. It felt so pristine and clean. She often found herself stopping just to touch a tree, or admire the way the moonlight filtered through its leaves. With no hustle or bustle, no footpads or legionaries, no stench of garbage, no cold stone looming up from every direction, it seemed like paradise to the young wood elf.

But what she loved best of all were the deer. They moved with such grace that it took her breath away, leaping over rocks and brush with an ease she never would have imagined possible given their spindly legs. Teresa knew most people would hunt them for their meat, but she did not have the heart to shoot them. They were just too beautiful, and were of no threat to her.

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The wolves were another story however. Her first encounter was with a single wolf, which gave Teresa the opportunity to use her innate Bosmer ability to command animals. It was something she had only used before on rats in the shantytown she called home. She was not even sure if would work on an animal as large as a wolf when she saw it, and was greatly relieved when the predator wagged its tail at her and licked her cheeks after she cast it. Much better than having her face bitten off, she thought.

That was the only lone wolf she saw though. After that they all came in packs, which made her ability to command a single animal a moot point. Most of them appeared to want as little do with her as she did with them. However, when one pack became too curious for comfort Teresa was able to shoo them away a Flare spell in front of their noses. All animals were afraid of fire after all, she thought. Or at least that was what Teresa had been told.

She continued traveling that way for nearly a week, moving by night and sleeping in the day. She was not exactly sure where she was going, but she was not worried. Something inside of her had faith that she would reach her destination. It was a strange feeling, believing in herself, but one that Teresa was slowly becoming accustomed to.

* * *

She was standing in a large cavern whose rough stone walls were carved out by the forces of nature. Shadows clung to the walls of the cave, the darkest of which were smaller tunnels leading further into the bowels of Nirn. Before her the cavern was open to the sky. Sunlight beamed through the gaping hole, illuminating the center of the chamber in golden light. Beneath this Teresa saw a large pool of water, whose crystal clear waves held a small forest of marine plants.

Somehow, all of this seemed familiar to the wood elf. As if she had been to this place before. She stepped into the light of the sun, allowing it to wrap her in its warmth. Then she sat, sliding her bare legs into the clear water. It was warm against her skin, and she watched how the light bent the image of her legs as she gently kicked them back and forth under the waves.

This had happened before! the Bosmer thought, just like this. Looking up, she saw a dark figure across the pool from her. Standing at the edge of the shadows, she seemed to be wearing a black cloak, whose hood completely obscured her head.

Teresa's breath caught in her throat, and she quickly pulled her legs from the water. Leaping to her feet, the wood elf stared at the other woman. Yet the dark figure did move. Teresa was not sure if she even breathed.

The wood elf took a step forward. Who was this woman in black? she wondered, and what was she doing here, in her dream? For the wood elf was not only certain this was a dream, but that the other woman was not merely a product of her own imagination.

The figure turned as Teresa approached. As she drew nearer, the wood elf saw that it was not a cloak that the other woman wore. Rather it was black feathers that seemed to completely envelop her frame.

The figure began to raise its head…

To quote mALX: “Grrr! Cliffhanger! Arrggh!”

The dream sequences are really vivid and add a supernatural undertone to Teresa’s story. Are they going to be a recurring theme? I guess I’ll have to keep reading to find out.

I like the reason that Teresa sites for not shooting the goblin. It’s interesting to compare her reasoning there to her reasoning for not killing a deer.

I also like the fact that in your version of Cyrodiil wolves travel in packs.

Mmm... deer. Very tasty. Not as good as elk though...

Ahem. Well written, quite enjoyable. Very heavy on character development, which is good. Keep 'em coming.

Destri Melarg: Thank you D. Yes, the dreams will be a recurring feature. They are a part of Bosmer spirituality that I am creating, completely outside of TES lore. I am hoping that it will add more depth to both the setting, and Teresa herself.

I believe ultimately Teresa does not want to kill things. She does have the ability to do it without hesitation when in danger, but that is about it. I suppose there is a bit of the proto-Teresa doctrine there. Don't kill unless you have to. Of course she has yet to learn in her heart that life requires death to survive, and that sacrifice is a part of the natural order of the world.

Wolves travel in packs IRL, so they do so in my writing. I want my writing to seem like a real world, so I do my best to model the behaviour of real critters.


canis216: Venison is quite tasty! I have had it a few times, and have always enjoyed it. Never had elk or moose, or anything larger though.

Thank you C. Character development is my focus, so expect more of that than action.



* * *
Chapter 4c - For The Emperor

Teresa woke as the sun was setting, and wondered at the strange dream. It had all seemed so familiar, she thought. She was certain she had it before, sometime after escaping from the prison. Yet she could not recall exactly when.

The croaking of a raven drew her thoughts, and she looked up to see the black bird sitting on a branch above her. It turned its head from one side to another, as if to look upon her with each eye in turn. Then with a loud cry it leapt into the air and flew toward the setting sun. On impulse, Teresa quickly rose, gathered up her things, and followed in the same direction.

The ground had been gradually sloping upward since she left the lake behind, perhaps as long as a week ago. Now she found herself climbing an even steeper slope, pausing occasionally to gather up the summer bolete, lavender, viper's bugloss, and fly amanita she found there. The sky had gone dark and the stars were coming out when she finally reached the crest of the hill. Atop it she was greeted by the sight of high stone walls in front of her and stretching off out of her view to either side.

She saw torches on the battlements, and lights emanating from windows in towers regularly spaced along the wall. Here and there she saw soldiers marching back and forth behind the parapets. Continuing ahead, she soon came upon a path that ringed the walls. Following it, she found herself at a huge gate in the wall, with a large stable and horse paddock nearby.

She froze when she saw the two guards standing at the gate. They stared back at her, and she willed herself to begin walking again. As she drew near she found that unlike the members of the Imperial Legion, these men wore coats of mail covered with only a few pieces of plate at the shoulders. A quilted vest was draped over their mail and split at the waist, hanging as far down as their knees. A white tree was emblazoned in the center of the vests, as well as on the round shields they held in their left hands. At their hips they wore the same steel arming swords she was used to seeing the Imperial Legion carry however.

"Good evening citizen," one of the guardsmen said as she approached. "Welcome to Chorrol."

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Teresa stopped and resisted the urge to look to see if he had been talking to someone else. No guardsman had ever spoken to her in that tone before. It was... friendly. The way soldiers treated regular people. Teresa found herself at a loss for words.

"It looks like you have been traveling for some time ma'am," the other guard offered up, filling the awkward silence that was developing.

"Umm, yes," Teresa forced herself to speak. "A long time. I was looking for Weynon Priory."

"Not going to become a monk I hope!" the first guard said with a grin, then stopped himself abruptly. "Not that there is anything wrong with monks of course, praise Talos. Just a bit dull is all."

"No, I, um..." Teresa began, scrambling for something to say. "I'm looking for my brother. He is one of the monks there. I came out from the Imperial City to surprise him with a visit. Only I have never been here before..."

"I didn't think there were any Bosmer monks at Weynon?" the second guard said quizzically.

"Oh, he's my step-brother," Teresa replied quickly. "He's an Imperial like you men are. But we are so close I forget. It is been so long since I have seen him... I cannot wait."

"Well, Weynon is back down that road there," the first guard said, pointing down another road that lay beyond the stable. "If you follow that a few miles it will take you past some farms and right to the priory. But I would not try going there now. You better get a room here in the city for the night and go in the morning."

"That is ok, I like walking at night," Teresa said, turning to leave.

"Wait," the first guard said, reaching out to take her arm in a gentle grip. "Please. You look like you know your way around the woods, but that's not a good idea, not these days."

"Ever since the Emperor died, we have had reports you see..." the second guard said in a hushed whisper. "Of people disappearing, and legionaries turning up dead on the road, torn to pieces. It's the Daedra they say!"

Teresa's heart skipped a beat, not just from the guardsman's grip, but also from the news. They both seemed serious, and genuinely concerned for her safety. She was not sure how to feel about that. She was not sure how to feel about so many things these days.

"Oh," she said, thinking about her long journey through the wilderness. It had been very quiet and relatively peaceful, certainly more than the Waterfront had ever been. Yet if there really were Daedra roaming the land, what would she have done if one found her? "I had no idea. I had better stay here then."

The first guard recommended she stay at an inn called the Oak and Crosier that was just inside the gate. She took his advice and was glad for it. The common room was clean, bright, and filled with people eating and drinking. It seemed very friendly and comfortable-looking. Talking to the owner, a female Khajiit named Talasma, Teresa found that the rooms were not nearly as expensive as she imagined for a place so large and well apportioned. After exchanging more of her sewer-found gold she acquired a room, a bath, and her first real meal since escaping the prison.

The next morning she went shopping. Her first stop was the Mages Guild, which she had heard of from some of the people talking in the inn's common room. Their Altmer alchemist looked at her like she was a creature rather than a person. That did not bother Teresa, much. It was how she expected people to treat her after all.

The Altmer did give her a nice sum of coins for the plants she had gathered on her journey. Enough that Teresa began to think that roaming the countryside for alchemical ingredients might turn out to be well worth the effort. Certainly not enough to get rich, but far better than she was doing now.

After that a smithy known as Fire and Steel caught her eye. There Teresa found herself parting with her cracked and brittle leathers and her sword. But in return she found herself the owner of a brand new set of leather armor - cuirass, gauntlets, greaves, and boots - covering her from head to toe with the thick, yet supple material. Where the old cuirass from the sewer had felt bulky and stiff, this seemed to move with her willowy frame rather than against it. The owner said it was made for female wood elves like herself, so she was not too surprised. She also showed Teresa how to care for the leather with a solution of oils and beeswax that she sold to the wood elf as well.

From there Teresa stopped at the Northern Goods Trade Store, which she found was run by a friendly Argonian named Seed Neeus. From her Teresa purchased a simple linen tunic to replace her nearly ruined sack-cloth clothing, a pack, a bedroll, and other traveling equipment. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw that the Argonian merchant had a supply of ground henna leaves, and on a whim bought them as well.

Then she was back to the inn, where she went up to her room and set to the task of mixing the henna with water and applying the paste to her hair. She had never dyed her hair before, but knew enough other women who did, so it was not too difficult, just a bit messy and time-consuming.

When she was finished she stepped back to get a good look at herself in the mirror and nearly gasped. Not only was her formerly mousy brown hair now a brilliant crimson mane, but the rest of her had changed as well. The street urchin she had known all of her life was gone. Instead a lithe forester clad in leather had taken her place. She stood tall and straight, with emerald eyes that showed a quiet confidence behind them. The very picture of a wood elf from all the stories she had heard growing up, except for her ghostly pale skin of course.

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"It is our choices in life that define us," she heard the voice of the Emperor in her mind, as clearly as if he was standing next to her. "Some people choose poorly. Some choose to be something better."

The thought of the Emperor made her eyes moisten and a lump form in her throat. Yet she willed herself not to cry. She owed him better than that, Teresa thought. Swallowing down the knot in her throat, she looked at herself in the mirror and wondered what the old man would think if he could see her now. She had the feeling that he would be pleased.

The thought brought a faint smile to her lips. Teresa found that she liked the new person she was becoming.

Ohhhh


i...am also liking Teresa more and more, as am I liking that the setting is oblivion, because i never played it really, my machine is not good enough.

Teresa is a very likable person, and your writing is purely professional

More please?

Yes I must agree that you've handled the development of Teresa excellently. She's quite a different character now compared to the beginning but the change was progressive and quite believable. Especially as it was already there and she was unaware of it but the change in circumstances and location have allowed her to become herself almost. I'm interested to see how she develops now she has (I think) developed in that way. Also the amount of killing in volved in the main quest is something I'm interested to see affect her.

So yes, I'm loving this character development and the writing.

More?

I like the description. Very nice work.

The thought of the guards caring about Teresa is highly comical. I love it!!

Our little & lost Bosmer girl might have to start changing her views on the outside world. The waterfront has been under the Hieronymus Lex spell for so long that Teresa does unfortunately have a biased view of the world. Not that it is her fault, of course, she has yet to experience the wider outside...

Ah, the red flowing locks. At last the real Teresa is standing up. Awesome.

I think that might be the first time in your writing that I have heard Teresa use the word ‘confident’ to describe herself! This chapter has the feel of what could be many 'aha' moments in the development of the character. It comes across as very subtle and organic, the culmination of the first stage of her journey executed by a writer who cares deeply about ‘getting it right’. In this chapter, SubRosa, you have absolutely nailed it.

minque: Oblivion can be quite the resource hog. I do find it to be more fun than Morrowind though. My fiction is mostly true to the game, except in a few places. The most glaring one is that in the game Cyrodiil is tiny, just 20 miles or so across. In my fiction I have dramatically expanded the size of the province, making it take weeks to travel across, rather than just one day.

More coming.


Olen: Thank you O. Lots more character development coming as well. The first six chapters were originally written by me just to establish a baseline of who Teresa was before the real development began. But when I wrote them, I discovered that she was also changing quite a bit just in them. It is nice when that happens without real planning.

This chapter will be the last of the Main Quest for Teresa however. The events in the MQ will continue, but without her being directly involved. Teresa will learn of some of the events as she goes about her adventures, and she will experience some of the fallout however.


Zalphon: Thank you Z.


Winter Wolf: Thanks Wolf. Yep, she is finally red again. It was strange seeing her with brown hair. This of course means her temper cannot be too far behind though...


Destri Melarg: It is indeed the first time Teresa has ever looked in the mirror and actually liked what she saw. It is the first chance she has had to pause and really start taking in how much the Emperor has changed her.


All: This post will finish out Chapter 4, and include a guest appearance by another character...


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Chapter 4d - For The Emperor

After buying some bread and cheese for the road from Talasma, Teresa set off on her journey to Weynon. The priory was not difficult to find, even for someone traveling across the countryside rather than by the road. The chapel tower loomed high enough above the trees that Teresa could see it from quite a distance. Drawing nearer, she found that a chest-high stone wall surrounded the grounds, which was divided up by low walls into cultivated fields, grazing for cows, sheep, and goats, a stable, and a smithy.

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It was a miniature city all in itself, Teresa thought. People dressed in ordinary work clothes moved to and fro tending the soil or the livestock, and she received more than a few stares when she pulled herself over the wall and leaped onto the grounds themselves. No one tried to stop her however, and Teresa made her way to the chapel itself.

There she found an actual monk, a young Imperial who introduced himself as Brother Piner. While he wore the simple brown cassock of a cleric, Teresa noted the hilt of a sword rising from the folds of his robe. When she asked for Jauffre, his eyes narrowed.

"What brings you to Weynon?" he asked, extending his hand in greeting. It seemed odd to Teresa. Since when did anyone ever want to shake her hand? Yet by reflex she put her hand within the Imperial's. His grasp was firmer than she would have imagined for a monk, and she felt his thumb press into the gap between the knuckles of her first and second fingers. For some reason that struck her as being odd as well, although she was not sure why.

"What is your business with Jauffre?" the monk continued, releasing her hand.

"I was sent by Baurus," she answered, wondering if she had failed some kind of test.

The monk questioned Teresa further, but she refused to reveal more than that. The Emperor had trusted her to deliver the amulet, she thought, and after what had happened under the prison she was not about to take any chances with it.

Finally the monk walked with her to their chapter house next door. It was a large building of stone, and even included a little arched canopy for carriages to stop underneath. To keep them out of the rain, Teresa imagined. The windows were narrow slits, too slender for a person to fit through. But her archer's eye noted they were wide enough to easily fire a bow through. While at first glance it seemed like a quaint country priory, she realized that it could easily double as a fortress.

Beyond the heavy oak front door she found a simple but comfortable abode. Yet for all of its size, it seemed strangely empty to the wood elf. Given all of its space and the number of laborers working in the fields, she would have imagined there would be dozens of monks in the monastery proper. Yet as Piner took Teresa to Jauffre's office on the second floor, she did not see another soul within the building. Had they all gone somewhere? Teresa wondered as the monk told her to wait in an anteroom, while he went through another door to announce her.

So Teresa waited, but the monk did not return, nor did anyone else issue from the office. Time seemed to drag on forever. What was taking so long? the wood elf thought. She only needed a few moments to give Jauffre the damned amulet, then she could get out of there and get back home.

Perhaps she should have told Piner that she had the amulet after all? she mused, that might have gotten some action. Memory of the red-robed assassins dispelled that thought however. Better to be safe, she reasoned, than sorry.

So with nothing else to do, she paced back and forth, growing more frustrated with every moment. Was Jauffre really in there? she wondered, or was Piner just stalling her? Why would he do that? Could he be one of the assassins? Could Jauffre be dead even now, and the other Blades whom she expected to be here?

No, she thought, not with all of the people going about their business outside. If there had been a bloodbath like under the prison, they would have all fled. Besides, there were no signs of fighting either inside the building or without. No broken furniture, or bloodstains, or smell of dead bodies, or clouds of flies that flocked to such things.

Finally Teresa could take no more, and shoved the door to the office open and burst inside. Within she found Brother Piner standing in front of a desk. Behind it sat a middle-aged Breton with a shaven head, also wearing an ordinary monk's robe. Teresa knew instantly that he was no priest. He sat with his back too straight, his eyes were too hard, and his every motion was that of a soldier. Teresa had seen it all her life. You could always spot a legionary, no matter how hard he tried to hide what he was. Their soldier's demeanor was burned into them like a brand into a horse.

Standing to one side of the room was a tall Redguard. Her straight, milk-white hair was tied in a ponytail, and her face was worn with care. She wore a full suit of leather armor, much like Teresa's own. An arming sword hung from one her hips, and a quiver of arrows from the other. She had that same stiffness in her frame and aura of danger hanging about her as did the seated monk.

Another soldier, Teresa thought, although at least she was not pretending to be a monk.

"What in Nirn do you think you are doing!" the shaven-headed man growled, rising from his seat. That also made the sword tucked under his robe plain to see. "We have important matters to discuss. Now wait outside and you will be dealt with appropriately."

Teresa felt herself wilt under his harsh words and even hasher stare. She wanted to squeak like a mouse and scurry off to hide. Exactly what she had done all her life when the Imperial Legion turned their wrath upon her. But she did not do so this time, much to her own surprise. Instead she shut the door behind her with only a slight tremble in her hand. When she turned back she saw the Redguard had a hand on her sword, as if it were just casually resting there.

"I am here for the Emperor." Teresa found herself spitting out with an extreme effort of will. "He sent me here."

"What?" the Breton said in surprise, his tone more gentle now. "Just who are you? What are you doing here?"

Teresa took a moment to calm herself. For days she had imagined this moment, rehearsed it all in her mind. But now that she was here she did not know what to say. It was nothing like she had imagined. She felt like she was fighting the goblins all over again. Her heart was racing, her throat was dry, and her skin cold as ice. She had to control herself, she thought. She had faced an assassin; she had faced goblins, she could face this soldier pretending to be a monk.

Rather than talk, she reached into one of her new belt pouches and drew forth the Amulet of Kings. The Redguard's hand fell away from her sword and her grey-green eyes widened, as did those of the two men.

"By Talos!" the Breton gasped.

"Jauffre," Teresa said. The surprise evident on all three of their faces made her feel more in control of the situation. She looked to the older monk. "Are you Jauffre?"

"Yes," the Breton said. His voice had lost all of its former anger, and now seemed filled with joy as he rounded his desk and stepped closer. He reached an eager hand out to her. "I cannot believe it. You have the amulet!"

For a moment Teresa recoiled out of reflex. Then she steadied herself, and set the Amulet of Kings in Jauffre's fingers.

"My name is Teresa, and the Emperor wanted me to give this to you," she said, now feeling calm, as if simply referring to the old man had brought her strength. She remembered his piercing blue eyes, and again felt their warmth fill her. "He said that he has another son. One the assassins did not know about. He said you know where he is. Find him, and give him the amulet."

For a moment Jauffre stared at the giant red gemstone in his hand with wonder. Then his features settled back into a mask of determination. He looked to the Redguard first and laid his free hand on the woman's shoulder.

"Go Julian," he said, voice now filled with enthusiasm. "Ride hard to Kvatch!"

"I will bring Martin back, sir." The Redguard saluted Jauffre, closed fist thumping against her leather-clad breast. Teresa almost felt like she would blush when she turned to her and did the same. Then she left the room, her pronounced limp barely slowing her determined stride.

"I do not know how you managed to get this," Jauffre said in amazement, looking from the Amulet of Kings to Teresa. "But you did the right thing coming here. You may have just saved the Empire, all of Tamriel, from destruction. When the Emperor and the Princes died, I sent all the Blades I had here at Weynon for his last son. We are waiting for them to return with him. He was illegitimate, so his birth was kept a secret to avoid a scandal, and to protect him from the Empress. Now he is our last hope."

"But where are my manners?" Jauffre continued, now the kind host as he lead her to a comfortable chair next to his desk. "Come and sit. You must be tired from your journey. Are you hungry? I will send for some food."

Teresa allowed herself be led to the chair and sat down. Her heart slowed with relief. It was finally over! she thought. The moment she had put the amulet in Jauffre's hand, it felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her.

She recounted her story at the Breton's prodding, and he plied her with sweet cakes and wine. She discovered that Jauffre had known the man who had died in the alley, saying that he was an agent of the Blades who was watching Daedric cults. When she told him that she had been arrested for his murder, the monk swore that he would have the charges against her dropped.

"Now," he said after she had finished, "how can I reward you for what you have done? I cannot give you a title, only the Emperor can do that. My order is not wealthy, but I am sure we can spare some gold though."

"No," Teresa said, shaking her head. "I cannot take anything."

"You have done a service to the Empire which cannot be dismissed," Jauffre said staunchly. "I must do something for you in return."

"You do not understand," Teresa said, tears welling up in her eyes. "He died right in front of me, and I couldn't stop it. He believed in me, and I just watched him die..."

"Do not carry that guilt with you," Jauffre said quietly, rising to lay a hand on her shoulder. Not the soft hand of a monk, but the hard grasp of a soldier. "Could have, would have, should have... Play that game with yourself and it will drive you mad. Believe me, I know better than most."

Teresa gently took his hand and moved it off her shoulder. While part of her desperately wanted to be comforted, she could not let a soldier see her this way. Her entire lifetime had taught her to never show them weakness, else they would exploit it. She did not think Jauffre would do that, but old habits died hard.

She rose, knowing that she had to get out of there. Jauffre did not try to stop her as she walked to the door.

"The new Emperor will know what you have done, and I will never forget," she heard Jauffre say as she opened the door. "If you ever need anything, come and find me, or him. Anything..."

Teresa nodded. Part of her was screaming to take the money and live rich and fat for the rest of her life. But another part of her saw the Emperor's face in her mind and remembered his words. He had given her something no amount of gold could compare to. What she did, she did for him, and nothing else.

Yay for Teresa
Yay for Jools
None can beat her
That is true
Now let's read on
our story bright
while events creep on
see Teresa FIGHT!!!