A beautiful moment of reflection.

This chapter highlights the difference between male and female writing (and indeed thinking).
Could a male write a story with this sort of clarity? No bloody way!!
When a male writes, it comes across as 'there it is, hit it.' :gun:

Hopeless, aren't we?

I love this paragraph:



Using description of the world around her to mark a change in her emotional state. Brilliant. :goodjob:

hauteecole rider: Thank you haute. We will see about Teresa's luck indeed. The funny thing about luck however, is that it can work in strange ways.


Acadian: Thank you Ac. This little scene was not in my original outline. I added it in as I started writing the chapter. I am glad I did, because it does several things for me. It shows the first time Teresa kisses the Lucky Lady, which will become a routine for her. It fleshes out her relationship with Aia, who is going to become one of her best friends in Bravil. It also shows what I already hinted at in the previous chapter, that Aia is a valuable source of information about the comings and going in Bravil. Finally, it reveals more about Pappy, both his amorous ways and the high standards he has for recruits.

I think Teresa can probably resist Pappy. But you never know, he is a hard man to keep down...


mALX1: Teresa is going to get something, that is for sure...


treydog: Teresa and her electrocuter! :shocking: Are you saying that Aia is an assassin for the Dark Sisterhood?, who specializes in Shock spells?


D.Foxy: Thank you Fox.


Jacki Dice: Thank you Jacki. I never saw Sweeny Todd. It is a musical right? I have never been much for them, except for the Wizard of Oz. I did work hard on Aia's speech patterns. I wanted them to be very unique. They took a lot of revising to get just the right "backwards" style of talking.


Rachel the Breton: Thank you Rache.


Winter Wolf: G'day mate. Well to each their own. I have no doubt that writing like this bores the snot out of a lot of people as well. This is an action game after all...


Destri Melarg: Thank you Destri. It is one of those little pieces of personal life I interjected into my writing. The times I seem to be the most content are those when I stop thinking and just pay attention to the natural world around me. The way the sun illuminates the grass, the trees sway in the breeze, the birds chirp, the water rushes by, etc... Teresa would definitely be the same way in that regard, so it flowed out naturally.



* * *

Chapter 13b ?The Lucky Lady


Teresa set down her mortar and pestle on the small table by her bed. Rows of potion bottles covered it, filled with liquids of numerous colors. She would have to buy more bottles, she thought as she looked down at her bag of ingredients, which was still packed tightly with supplies. She would need a lot more. She had used up all the bottles that she had, and barely made a dent in the store of alchemical supplies she had gathered on her trip from the Imperial City. She would be making potions for days.

Her stomach growled as she stared at the potions. Well, that was a clear sign that it was time to stop! she thought. She wondered how long she had been working as she rose and washed her hands in the basin across the room from the bed. It had been enough time for the light of the sun to grow dim through her window, and as she glanced outside she saw the fiery orb had begun to slide under the mountains west of the city.

Taking a moment to dry her hands, she stared down at herself. She was still wearing her leather armor, but now at least it was clean. That had been the first thing she had seen to after paying for her room. The way her first suit of leather had dried and cracked had taught her the importance of properly cleaning it with saddle soap and oiling it afterward.

Still, she wished she had something other than armor to wear. She had left her burgundy outfit with Simplicia at Jensine's shop. It had not seemed important enough to carry it along with her all the way to Bravil. Now she longed for the soft feel of its fine linen against her skin.

She would just have to buy new clothes tomorrow, she resolved with a faint smile. Just as soon as she sold some of her potions to pay for them, she thought. The room had cost nearly the last of her money. She could have gone to the cheaper inn, but she had not liked the look of it. It seemed too seedy, even for her. Silverhome On The Water, on the other hand, was very inviting with its clean furnishings, bright flowers, and the smell of freshly-cooked bread filling the common area.

She stopped to look at herself in the mirror over the washbasin and fussed with her hair. Once more her scarlet-dyed tresses had gotten out of place. She really ought to cut it shorter, she thought, but she liked how she looked with it long and swept across her forehead. Patiently working at it with her comb, she eventually put most of the locks back where they belonged.

Her stomach growled again, reminding her that some things were more important than her appearance. Wasting not another minute, she was out the door of her room and down the stairs to the ground floor and the common area of the inn. Even though it was a modest-sized chamber, she found it was filled with people. Most were dressed in fine linens, and several wore velvet and silk. No one wore the flax or sack cloth of the poor. Nor did anyone wear armor, except for her of course.

An orc waving his hand in the air caught her eye. Looking at him more closely, she recognized him as the same man she had passed in the lobby of the Fighters Guild when she had stormed out early in the afternoon. He was still dressed in the same blue velvet clothing he had been wearing then, and his face lit up with a smile as he beckoned her to his table.

"I would be honored if you would join me, my fair lady," he said as she approached, gesturing to the empty chairs at his table. His voice was deep. But rather than the gruff tones she was used to hearing from orcs, his speech was measured and smooth, like the sound of a musical instrument. "I am Ancondil, and as you can see I have plenty of room. I would consider it my privilege to share your company."

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion290.jpg

"Oh my, thank you. That is very generous." Teresa allowed the ghost of a smile to cross her lips as she sat across the table from the orc. Starting at his ears, a mane of raven hair grew down from around his head. Above that the green dome of his skull was shaven clean, except for a long ponytail that rose from the back of his scalp and fell past his shoulders. A book and a glass of brandy sat beside the orc's hand. In front of him was a half-eaten plate of roast lamb covered in gravy, with potatoes ladled with sour cream and chives on the side. The sight of the latter made the wood elf's stomach rumble once more. "My name is Teresa."

"It is my honor," Ancondil said, bowing his head to her. Before Teresa could reply he turned and called for the waitress, a plump but otherwise attractive Imperial woman who took Teresa's order for dinner and returned a few moments later with a glass of wine.

"Ancondil? that's an interesting name for an orc," Teresa said, lifting the glass to her lips. The wine was sweet and fruity on her tongue, and she closed her eyes to savor the lovely taste before allowing it to slide down her throat. "I thought most orc names had a 'gra' or a 'gro' in them?"

"They do," the orc said. He had stopped eating when Teresa sat, and now wiped his hands on a small cloth. "Unlike most orcs however, I was raised by high elves. Hence my elvish name."

"Really?" Teresa could not prevent her eyebrows from rising in surprise. "How did that happen?"

"I was orphaned at birth," Ancondil said, lifting the snifter of brandy in one hand and gently cupping it in his thick fingers. Taking the time to roll the glass around, he watched as the dark liquid swished around the wide-bottom of the container. "I was found on the steps of the Chapel of Arkay in Cheydinhal by their healer. Shortly afterward I was adopted by a high elf couple in the Mages Guild, Eilonwy and Orintur. They raised me as if I were their own, quite a testament to Altmer willpower I must say!"

"Oh my goodness!" Teresa nearly gasped. "Me too! Well, except for the chapel and everything afterward. I am an orphan too that is. I was raised on the streets of the Imperial City by an Imperial woman, Simplicia. They call her 'the Slow' because of how she had Helljoint for a long time."

"By the Nine, now this is quite the turn of luck is it not? that the two of us would meet at this time and place, both so far from our homes?" Ancondil declared, raising his glass in a toast. "Here is to us then, siblings in circumstance if not in blood."

Teresa allowed a faint smile to crest her features once more and raised her glass to meet his. His mention of luck made her remember kissing the statue of the old woman in the street outside. Aia had said her luck was going to change after she did so. Now she wondered if indeed it had.

She found herself liking this orc. The way he spoke so well and looked so dapper in his fine velvet said he was money. Yet unlike other wealthy people he did not come across as being full of himself. Rather he seemed very down to nirn with his easy manner and quick humor.

"You stopped eating?" Teresa noticed, looking at the unfinished food on his plate.

"It would be terribly rude of me to eat before you are served," Ancondil said.

"Oh don't be silly!" Teresa exclaimed, "it will get cold! Go and eat!"

"That would be ungentlemanly to say the least," Ancondil declared. "Perhaps if you share the meal with me? The lamb is quite delicious."

"Oh no, I don't eat meat." Teresa shook her head. "You go ahead until my fish comes. I grew up on the streets, you don't have to impress me!"

"Really? you do not eat meat?" Ancondil asked with a lifted eyebrow. Teresa noted that he still made no motion to continue his meal. "When I saw you earlier at the Fighters Guild I had thought you were a huntress, come straight from the wilds of the Great Forest itself."

"I had," Teresa said, looking down at her hands. The last thing she wanted was for him to remember how she had stormed out of the Fighters Guild. She hoped she was not blushing when she forced her gaze back up to his. "But I am a gatherer, not a hunter."

"Indeed? I have never been able to pass up a good steak myself. Well, to each their own I always say." Ancondil declared, raising his glass once more to her before taking a sip of the dark liquid. "Did your business at the Fighters Guild go well? That is if it would not be too indiscreet to inquire?"

"No," Teresa muttered. She thought about what Aia said, how the guild commander told people to their face that he did not want them. "Well, maybe not. I don't really know. How about yourself? Did you need to hire someone?"

"Oh goodness no!" Ancondil laughed, "I was there to join!"

"You were?" Teresa wondered aloud. "You don't look like someone who would need to work for the Fighters Guild."

"Well, here is to looks being deceiving." Ancondil raised his glass once more and took a small sip. "In spite of my attire, I assure you I am personally quite destitute. It is my parents who are wealthy. I came here to Bravil to make my own fortune. I would starve as a poet or a musician. On the other hand breaking things has always been something I have been successful at."

"Did they accept you?" Teresa asked, stifling the urge to smile at his quip. She remembered her own ordeal to prove herself. What might the guild master have put Ancondil through to show his worth? she thought.

"Yes indeed." Ancondil said with a smile. "Although I am still sore from the trials their leader put me through! I sit here before you a proud - albeit probationary - member of the Fighters Guild. At least until my background check is complete."

That caused Teresa's eyebrow to lift again. So the guild commander was doing a check on Ancondil as well, she thought, even when it was plain he was a straighter arrow than Hieronymus Lex? Then maybe the Imperial had not been lying after all, she thought. Perhaps he did want her for real?

This is wonderful, and I too find myself drawn to this Orc for some reason!

Fave quotes:



(knowing his arrows are feathered on both ends, ROFL !!! )


Describing an Orc as "dapper" - really funny image that creates - but he fits the description, lol.




That one was just plain perfect !!

So that's what that orc was for!

He seems to have potential as an interesting character. I enjoyed his observation that he's good at breaking things! Like heads?

As for keeping Pappy down, why would I want to see that? I want him UP! :thumbsup:

(By Akatosh, I'm turning into D.Foxy!)

I already can't wait until the next chapter!

Foxy has rubbed off on all of us. I blame him for the Minx wars too! (of which so far it has been determined that I am the only one who is NOT a Minx).

Just a holdover from my days as a thespian....



Someone has hustled off with your "h" there...

I enjoyed Teresa's growing social sense and her feeling that perhaps she CAN belong to something greater than herself. And her Orcish host is quite a treat, too.

Once again, a story that I thoroughly enjoyed. You lavish us with details that merely leave me asking for more (with gravy and chives please ). My stomach is rumbling and I am searching for my brandy decanter.

Teresa continues to be endearingly Teresa, and your introduction of Ancondil was superb. I quite simply savored every bite of this. Well done!


I cite this because of how much I like what you did here. You make choices on what to include and what not to. Combining show, tell and dialog, you have perfectly presented what you want, but spared the details of Teresa's actual conversation with the waitress. Very smoothly, efficiently and effectively done. I am taking notes and trying to learn here.

Let me congratulate your work in progress, as you bring your 'new and improved TF' Bravil Fighters Guild to brilliant life.

As for keeping Pappy down, why would I want to see that? I want him UP!

(By Akatosh, I'm turning into D.Foxy!

:blink:

Foxy has rubbed off on all of us. I blame him for the Minx wars too! (of which so far it has been determined that I am the only one who is NOT a Minx).

:blink: :blink:

The world would explode if there were THREE Foxies...


... although I must admit both you laidies - er - I meant ladies - (Honest Spelling Mistake, REALLY!!!) - - are quite Foxy, too...hur hur hur, as my friend Ole Andy would say...


:rofl:


And now to be serious for a nano second, I think that the character of the 'Orc Gentleman' is an absolutely BRILLIANT invention. And yet...so obvious, too! Why didn't I think of it before, myself? Orcs are stereotypically stinking louts - why not create one smooth and cultured, just to heighten the contrast with the crowd?

That said, your Description of the Orc's smooth yet genuinely good manners was perfect - a small gem of balance and good humour!

This is, BTW, why I love RoseMinx's writing... (more fuel for the Minx Wars there, more hur hur hur)

* Foxy was struck by lightning *

...and the electric shock made him into a pol-lee-TEE-shian, which gave him an election...

I know, I know, but SHE MADE ME DO IT!!!

A cultured Orc and a Bosmer who won't eat meat, this sounds like the beginning of a beautiful friendship. :hehe:

I must say that there was a moment when you almost lost me in this chapter. One of my biggest pet peeves is a certain irritation that occurs whenever someone uses the term 'well spoken' to describe someone of a different race. As if there is only one way that any representative of a certain race is supposed to speak. I realize that you used the term only to impart that Ancondil sounded as if he came from money, but I still felt that old twinge. You can imagine my delight when Ancondil turned out to be a well-rendered, nuanced character that grew more endearing as the chapter went on. Bravo, SubRosa!

mINX1: Are you sure Hieronymus' arrows are feathered at both ends? I mean, has he ever had a girlfriend?


hauty cole rider: Yes indeed, Ancondil was in the previous chapter to set up his appearance in this one. Of all the new characters I created for the Bravil FG, he is probably the one I like the most, as he is such an unusual person. Breaking heads is indeed what he is best at (although he is not a bad poet either, as this post will show). Being an orc kid of high elf parents was sure to get him into a lot of fights, something we will learn more about in future chapters.


treydog: Oh, so you were from the city of Thespiae? Shame how those 700 of you guys fought at Thermopylae and then had all the glory stolen from you by those Spartiates. I suppose you are no longer a Thespian because of how the Thebans drove you all out after Leuctra... Too bad. Glad you found a new spot in ETN though...

Thank you for finding my "H" for me. Must have been the Gray Fox who stole it, blasted thief! I hope they string him up when they catch him!

Teresa is getting a little better at talking to people. However, the rest of this chapter will show that she still has some hurdles to overcome when it comes to forming relationships with others.


Acadian: Thank you Acadian. I am glad it was most filling.


D.Foxy: He is not only cultured, but also a poet and musician as well...


Destri Melarg: They are quite the pair are they not? Quite the turn of luck to bring them together. I always imagine Ancondil's voice-acting being done by Kelsey Grammer. Thank you Destri.


All: This will be a bit long, but I did not want to break this scene up any further.

* * *

Chapter 13c ?The Lucky Lady


Just then Teresa's lake perch arrived, smothered in butter sauce and sprinkled with basil, and flanked by a small pile of chipped potatoes. Her stomach growled again as she breathed the aroma of the fish deep into her lungs. A moment later she was digging into the meal. She had to force herself not to rush like she usually did when she ate. Instead she took her time and tried to savor every delicious bite, as Nerussa had chided her to.

"Life is filled with sensual pleasures Teresa," the Altmer woman had told her once as they basked in the warm afterglow of lovemaking. "Whether it is the taste of a fine wine, or a good meal, the warmth of the sun, or the soft skin of your lover under your fingers; take the time to glory in every pleasure life brings you. It is often the simplest things that make living the most rewarding."

"So you mentioned being a poet and a musician?" Teresa asked between bites of food.

"In my own, very modest way," Ancondil said. She was glad to see that he had started eating once more, now that her own food had arrived. "My lute is upstairs in my room. I would not be so cruel as to torture an entire room filled with people with my playing. I am really more a fan of each really, rather than a player or writer."

"Oh, I would love to hear," Teresa said. She had never met an orc who liked poetry or music, let alone tried to play or write. Come to think of it, she had never met anyone of any race that did, aside from Nerussa. Then she took a bite of the deep-fried chips. They were still steaming from the fryer, and she had to gulp down a mouthful of wine to cool her tongue. "Nocturnal that is hot!"

"Careful there, that looks hot!" Ancondil exclaimed, then looked sheepish after the glance Teresa could not help but to shoot him. "I suppose you have discovered that already however?"

"So what were you reading?" Teresa asked, looking over at the book that sat on one side of the table. She was going to let those chips cool down before risking another bite, she thought.

Oh, that is Drels Alano, of Suran." Ancondil declared. "Dancing With Shadows, it is his most famous collection."

"Oh read me some then," Teresa said. She remembered how lovely it had sounded when Nerussa had recited poetry to her

"Well, if you insist," Ancondil said, then took a sip of brandy to clear his throat before continuing. He did not look at the book, or even touch it. Instead he stared directly into Teresa's eyes and began to speak.

"Was there even a cause too lost,
Ever a cause that was lost too long,
Or that showed with the lapse of time to vain
For the generous tears of youth and song?"

"Oh my, that was lovely," Teresa remarked. "But sad. You said you write your own too?"

"I do take a feeble stab at word-smithing from time to time, but I assure you, it is nothing fit for hearing." Ancondil insisted, lowering his gaze.

"Don't be modest, let me hear," Teresa insisted. "You speak very well. I like hearing your voice."

"Well, if you insist my lady, but only because one so fair as yourself has requested," the orc said with a smile.

"We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without color,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other kingdom
Remember us?if at all?not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men."

"That was amazing!" Teresa felt the urge to clap. Instead she allowed herself a faint smile as she looked at the orc across from her. "You really wrote that?"

"Yes indeed." Ancondil sat up a little straighter, and his eyes sparkled at Teresa's words. "It is not finished yet however, there is more I would like to add. You really enjoyed it though?"

"I have not heard much poetry," Teresa admitted as she took a sip of wine. "But that was some of the best I have. It really is kind of dark though."

"I suppose that is what speaks to me most clearly." Ancondil shrugged. "But enough about me. What of yourself? The wild forester of Cyrodiil? You said you were a gatherer? I could not imagine living out in the wilderness myself. I am afraid I would not last a day without a hot fire and a warm brandy!"

"Oh, it is not so bad," Teresa said. "I used to think the forest was daunting too, until I was in it for the first time. Then I found out it was like? coming home for the first time in my life."

"So what brings you in from the wild hinterland then?" the orc asked.

"I still like a hot fire and a glass of Tamika's myself," Teresa laughed. "I have a lot of alchemical ingredients I gathered on my way here from the Imperial City that I need to blend and sell too."

"Oh, so you are an alchemist then?" Ancondil looked surprised, and continued with a grin. "I spent some time at the Arcane University myself. I was banned from the alchemy laboratory within my first week in fact. They say it took another week just to get the smell out. I thought I was the worst alchemy student they ever had, but apparently there was Khajiit even worse than I was?"

"I'm no real alchemist either," Teresa said, thinking of all those plants in Patvir's Guide that she had never heard of before. "I just know how to make a few potions is all. But you are a mage? Shouldn't you be in the Mages Guild instead of the Fighters Guild?"

"You have probably heard of great magicians such as Galerion the Mystic?" Ancondil declared grandly. "Well, I am nature's way of balancing out such greatness. I have never had any magical talent whatsoever. Even the simplest light spell is beyond my crude fumblings. To make matters worse, I was born under the sign of the Atronach, so I cannot even regenerate my own magicka. I only went to the University to make my parents happy. Not that they were thrilled when I was asked to leave due to my abysmal performance?"

"Really?" Teresa said. Even she could cast spells, she thought. It was not all that difficult, even without being University-trained. Granted she could only cast them a few times before her magicka was exhausted, and the big spells were completely beyond her. Yet she could still use some magic. "Not even alchemy? That is just mixing things together?"

"Ahh, yes, but as you know, even alchemy requires the directed will of the practitioner in order to draw out the magical properties of the ingredients and bond them together to create a potion. Otherwise you are just crushing plants." Ancondil explained. "Of course you have those natural alchemists who can just throw things together with apparently no effort at all. But even they are applying their will, they just do not realize they are doing it. Whenever my will meets anything magical, bad things happen, usually extraordinarily so I might add?"

Teresa furrowed her brow. It took applying will to mix potions? she thought. She had never done anything special before. She just picked out the right things and ground them up. Granted, smashing them all down to powder did take effort sometimes, and after hours of doing it she did feel tired and sore, as she did now. But that was just from the physical strain, she thought, was it not?

The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully, and Teresa excused herself shortly after finishing her meal. The fish weighed heavily in her belly, and her limbs felt as if they were filled with lead. After all that happened during the day she was exhausted. So much had occurred since she had come to Bravil that it was hard for her to believe that she had only come to the city in the afternoon. All she wanted to do now was sleep, she thought.

Ancondil, however, insisted to escort her to her room upstairs, in spite of her protestations. He said as a true gentleman it was his duty. Teresa had no idea what a gentleman's duty was, but was too tired to argue. It was not until she unlocked her door and turned to wish him a good night that she realized that his intentions were not entirely ceremonial after all.

His eyes had a fire in them. The kind she was starting to see more and more often in men looking at her. He wanted to do more than just walk her to her room, that even she could plainly see.

Suddenly she was keenly aware of the way he towered over her, and how the body underneath all the velvet he wore bulged with muscle. Was he going to be trouble? she wondered as her heart quickened its pace.

"Ancondil, I'm not?" she started to say, but as they so often did, the words deserted her as she stared into his eyes.

"Not interested, is that it?" he finished the sentence for her, his gaze now shrouded in the flickering light of the corridor.

"It's not that I don't like you, I do." Teresa bit her lower lip as she tried to explain. "It's just that?"

"I am an orc, that is it right?" his voice was soft now. Where at dinner his words had been filled with mirth and a quiet sense of self-confidence, now Teresa thought she detected something else, bitter defeat.

"No, I don't care about that. I think you are wonderful," she said, hoping he would understand what she had to say. "It's just that you're a man?"

"Yes, and you are a woman," he said dryly, and for a moment Teresa saw the old Ancondil surface again. "I rather noticed both."

"No?" Teresa stammered, trying to muster the courage to say what she must. "I mean that's the problem. You're a man. I don't? feel that way about men. If you were a woman I would love to spend the evening with you, alone."

"Oh." Ancondil blinked. He looked as if a pile of bricks had fallen onto him. "You mean you? Oh my stars! What an oaf you must think I am!"

"No, not at all," Teresa said, feeling relief course through her. "I think you are one of the most amazing men I have ever met. I like being around you. That's the problem. I forget that sometimes men are attracted to me. It's not something that happens very often, believe me! So I guess I don't think about how I act sometimes, or how someone else might take it. It's all my fault really. I'm so sorry I made you think that I was, well, you know?"

"I have been such a fool," Ancondil said, stepping away from her. "Please accept my apologies. I would have never made such an ass of myself if I had realized."

"I am sorry Ancondil," Teresa said. Now he looked so forlorn that she had to resist the urge to put her arms around him to console him. But even with as little she knew about men, she had no doubt that would be the worst thing she could do. "If I were to want to be with a man, you would be the one. Believe me, you are the best one I have ever met! It's all my fault."

The orc mumbled something under his breath. The only word that Teresa could hear was 'Sappho', and she had no idea what that might mean. She watched as he retreated down the hallway and out of sight. Then the wood elf sighed and turned back to her door. Men were so complicated! she thought.



Notes- The first poem is Hannibal, by Robert Frost. The second is The Hollow Men, by T.S. Eliot.

Oh! A beautiful chapter!

I liked Nerussa's admonition that the world is full of sensual pleasures and one must stop to smell the roses, otherwise life just isn't worth living.

I really liked the "Hollow Men" poem - it is the sort of poetry I do enjoy, on the rare occasion I do read it.


Sounds like Ancondil may have been the second worst alchemy student - no one can top that certain albino Khajiit! :angel:


I can see him doing this: :facepalm: without you having to write it.


How appropriate that our Orc poet should refer to what is quite possibly the most famous lisbian poet evah! :rock:

That rang very true- especially when a person has had to learn to bolt any food before it can be stolen, it is a hard habit to overcome...



I really like the concept you illustrate here- and Ancondil's wry wit in stating it.

And yes, Teresa is still learning to navigate the perilous reefs of relationships... But her kindness and sense of right will see her through.

Bravo! Once again, you manage to bring a supporting character more fully to life while developing Teresa at the same time.

I quite enjoy listening to her internal debates and ruminations.

A wonderful meal, complete with Tamika's and brandy. Yum. Your stories keep making me hungry! Seriously, I do enjoy your detailed food descriptions; they add a rich flavor to Cyrodiil.

You quite artfully wove references to poetry thoughout this story, and each was perfect for its situation.

It was interesting to see how Teresa handled the awkward situation as bed time approached. Her thoughts on how she got there and how to deal with it made perfect sense and were well-portrayed.



I heartily concur with the above comments, and the many wonderful passages cited. Let me add one more that made me chuckle:

Was he calling her Sappho or going to go get some Sappho poems to recite to her? He didn't seem mean, is why I asked. Awesome chapter, you can even make a dinner conversation interesting reading!

My fave line has already been quoted...hmmm, I wonder who that Khajiit was? :rofl:

RE: Lex - not a girlfriend...more like someone he was using (or was using him) sixually to get info - Myvrynra Arano - and say, does anyone know why Bethesda chose to put two women into the game with the same name? There is also a Mivrynra Arano in Cheydinhal !!

Awesome Write Minxtress!!

Relationships Mixups are the very devil. Why, I once remember...well...never mind.

Your take on alchemy is EXCELLENT. I really wish that could be put into the next TES game as standard, so that efficiacy of all potions is a product of incredients ( and why just one vanilla incredient? Let's purify them, use an instrument called the distiller or purifier) plus the alchemical skill plus the quality of the tools (higher quality mortar and pestle, better potions) plus the WILLpower... now that would make for an interesting game!

I thought these moments absolutely rang true. How typically generous of her gender that Ancondil comes on to Teresa, and Teresa apologizes to him for it.

I kept wondering why both of those poems sounded so familiar.

Another male heart broken.... way to go Teresa.. :rofl:
Loved your take on alchemy!

hauteecole writer: Thank you haute. Nerussa's advice is a something I learned myself a long time ago. Sometimes you just need to stop and appreciate the good things in life, like a cat purring on your lap or the taste of a good chili.

I have been a fan of poetry since I was in the fifth grade. My teacher had a year-long poetry unit, and I learned and recited things like Paul Revere's Ride, Casey At The Bat, and The Charge of the Light Brigade. My favorite poets are probably Robert Frost and Emily dikeinson, which shows you my tastes, but I also like some Tennyson and Whitman too. Expect to see some of them cropping up in the future...

I am glad the head-slap was evident. I wanted to convey that feeling without actually saying it.

I was hunting for something to call same-six people in Oblivion. I doubt there is anything in the game lore, so I just worked on my own. Rather than invent a term that would not mean anything to anyone, I fell back to my history and poetry to pull out Sappho. I knew some people would recognize the name and probably get a kick out of seeing it.


treydog: I am one of those people with a habit of eating quickly. I always have to force myself to slow down. I grew up poor is why. It is a habit all poor people share.


Acadian: Thank you A. Perhaps I should introduce the Mithril Chef as a supporting character?


mALX1: He was saying something to himself, under his breath, along the lines of "just my luck to pick someone who prefers sappho to [insert man-on-woman poetry here]."

That is Tanasa Arano who is in Cheydinhal, not Myvryna. They share the same Bride of Frankenstein hiarstyle however...


D.Foxy: As I wrote this chapter I had Love Stinks by the J. Geils Band running through my head. Not just because of what you have seen already, but also the next two scenes as well.

Among other things, I am a Witch, so I try to bring some of that to my descriptions of how magic works. That is why I talk so much about symbols when Teresa casts spells. The other important thing is of course the will of the individual, since magic is simply creating change in accordance with will.


Destri Melarg: Well, Teresa really is partly to blame. When a woman has dinner with a guy, asks him to recite poetry, and clearly enjoys it, it is sending a clear signal. It does not necessarily man she wants to have six with him, but a guy does have good reason to think she is at least interested.


RemkoNL: Ancondil will recover. He is good at that. Besides, there is someone else in his future...


All: This will be another big post, but I did not want to break the following scene into 3 posts. Instead it will be long, but just two.

* * *

Chapter 13c ?The Lucky Lady

* * *

Teresa was awake and out the door shortly after dawn. It felt strange being up and about at such an early hour. Usually she was just going to bed as the sun came up, she thought, not rising with it! But as she walked down the stairs to the first floor of the inn, she felt strangely invigorated. Well, she had probably slept for twelve hours straight, she thought with a faint smile. She ought to feel refreshed!

The smell of frying eggs and bacon assaulted her nostrils as she entered the common room, destroying whatever appetite she might have had. A few of the other patrons were there ahead of her and eating breakfast. When the waitress asked if she would like some she could only shake her head as she made her way to the door. The idea of eating anything so soon after waking made her feel queasy, that it was meat only made it all the worse.

Carrying a bag of potions in one hand and another sack full of ingredients in the other, she made her way down Bravil's main street. She passed the brooding edifice of the Fighters Guild, and once more wondered what she should think about yesterday. Did their commander really want her after all? she thought. Even if he had, would he still want her after she had stormed out with her eyes filled with tears?

She sighed and looked away. She had other things to think about, she told herself. She had potions to sell, more bottles to buy, and far more to mix up with the ingredients she had left in her room. Then she needed to buy some real clothing, so she would not have to walk around the city wearing armor all the time. Maybe something velvet, she thought, or something with lace?

The main street ended at another river that cut across the city from her right to the left. It split into two branches directly in front of her, creating three separate islands upon which Bravil stood. One branch of the river continued to her left, toward the rising sun, and ended in a partially submerged gate at the city walls. The other, wider leg of the river turned at a right angle and flowed straight away from her and emptied out into the bay south of the city.

In the pie-shaped wedge of land between the two branches of the river on Teresa's left loomed the castle, draqed with rust-colored banners of the same back-facing deer that the city guard wore on their surcoats. A wooden bridge spanned the water to her left, connecting the castle to the island upon which she stood.

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The third island lay across the river to her right, and was filled with more stone and wood houses. She could see the high walls of the city rising in the distance behind them. One shop along the far riverbank caught her eye. Its wooden sign sported a pair of crossed arrows and had 'The Archer's Paradox' written across it. Teresa made a mental note to go and investigate that later in the day.

The ground dove steeply in front of her to meet the water. Several sets of stairs cut along its length, leading to a long row of docks stretching the entire length of the watercourse. She saw a few small fishing boats tied up to shore, but most of the slips were empty.

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There was one large ship however, one of the big sea-faring craft that she had often seen on the docks of the Imperial City. As she gazed down she could see the Redguards of its crew unloading crates onto the dock, while locals carried them up the stairs and began loading them onto wagons and carts on the street where Teresa walked.

Remembering the directions the guardsman had given her the day before, Teresa made her way west along the riverbank. The street here was still paved in stone, but she could see that it turned to hard-packed dirt as soon as it moved away from the water's edge. She passed a shop called 'The Warlock's Luck' that tempted her to stop. But it looked more like a spellcaster's store than an alchemist's, so she continued down the thoroughfare.

Coming to another bridge that spanned the river to the third island, she found the city wall rose in its circuit not far beyond. Sitting on the bank of the river beside the wall was a high manor house. A great stained glass window colored to look like an eight-petaled flower was perched in the center of the second floor, and she knew that she had found the Mages Guild.

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She found the door was unlocked as she tried the handle, and let herself in. A short hallway led to a wide open foyer, surrounded by other chambers in all directions. The great eye symbol of the guild was painted on the hardwood floor beneath her feet, this time decorated with magical runes. The walls were hung with soft hangings of velvet and silk, and the room was populated with bookcases, cushioned benches, plants, and several decorative urns. The light of the morning sun spilled through the open windows behind her, augmented by a chandelier lit not by candles, but rather by glowing crystals of the like she had often seen in Ayleid ruins.

"Good morning!" came the perky voice of a Breton. Turning to her left, Teresa saw a woman with brown hair tied back in a single braid walking down a stairway to the ground floor. She was dressed in blue velvet, and her eyes sparkled as they set upon Teresa. "I am Delphine Jend, Master of Destruction. How can the Mages Guild help you today?"

"Umm, good morning, I'm Teresa" the wood elf said. She guessed that the Breton was in her late thirties, given the lines just beginning to form on her features. Yet she could not take her eyes off the dress that she wore. Its velvet shimmered in the light, looking delightfully soft and warm. She had to resist the urge to reach out and run her fingers across its smooth surface.

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"What a lovely dress that is," Teresa found herself saying, suddenly feeling self-conscious in her leather cuirass. "Wherever did you get it?"

"Oh you like it?" the Breton fairly pranced in front of Teresa, and now the wood elf noticed the delicate lace patterns set within the velvet, and the stitching of cloth of gold that encircled its sleeves and waist. Then her eyes lit upon the sapphires that glittered in the Breton's ears, and the shining gold of her necklace. "It is something I picked up at Palonirya's the last time I was in the Imperial City."

"It's beautiful, you're beautiful," Teresa breathed, feeling a pang of envy rising within her. By Dibella, this was what a woman was supposed to look like, she thought. All soft and curvy, decked out in brilliant jewels and shimmering velvet. On the other hand she was all stringy whipcord and bone, and dressed head to toe in leather.

"Oh my, you are quite the flatterer aren't you, what did you say your name was, Teresa?" The Breton grinned, taking the wood elf gently by the arm and leading her toward one of the side chambers. "You must be new here in Bravil. I am sure I would have recognized you if I had seen you before, what with that lovely hair and that skin-tight leather. You must have to beat the men off with a stick I bet!"

"Umm, that's not usually a problem?" She thought about Ancondil the night before as soon as the words slipped from her mouth. He had certainly liked something! she thought. Teresa felt her cheeks begin to warm as the other woman led her into what looked like a dining room and motioned her to sit while she busied herself with a silver tea service.

"I will just make us a cup of tea to get the morning started, and we can sit and talk," the Breton said over her shoulder as she lifted the top of the teapot. Pointing her finger within, a wisp of flame short forth, and a moment later steam was rising from the innards of the container. The mage turned to Teresa and smiled. "Heating water is one of the many advantages of being a battlemage."

"You don't have to do that." Teresa offered as the other woman brought over the tea and poured them a pair of cups. "I only came here to sell some potions, and buy some bottles?"

"Then you will need to talk to Ardaline then," the Breton explained, pushing a delicate cup filled with brown fluid toward the Bosmer. "She runs the alchemical storefront."

Teresa lifted the porcelain cup to her lips and took a sip. She had to stifle the urge to wince at the bitterness of tea, let alone its heat. Yet the Breton woman looked so expectantly at her that she had to nod and force a smile to her lips. "Oh, that is good." Teresa lied, "but maybe a little hot."

"Good tea is supposed to be hot," the Breton proclaimed as she lifted her cup to her lips and drank nearly half its contents in one gulp. How she could manage that without screaming was beyond Teresa, but the magician looked content as she went on. "Nothing like a good spot of tea to get the blood flowing I always say!"

Teresa risked another sip of the acerbic liquid, and once again fought the urge to make a face. She had never tasted anything so harsh. How could anyone like this? she wondered. She would rather have goat's milk any day.

"I really need to see this Ardaline then," Teresa bit her lower lip as she rose to her feet. At this point she would do anything to avoid drinking more of the horrible brew. "I do not want to take up any more of your time."

"Young people, always in a hurry?" the Breton muttered as she stood and led Teresa back through the lobby and into another of the side chambers. This one was lined with shelves containing potions of all colors. A small bookcase rose against one wall, and a long counter ran down nearly half the room. Behind it were more shelves containing mortars, pestles, alembics, retorts, and other alchemical gear.

Standing next to the counter was a young Altmer woman with blond hair that was styled similar to that of Tadrose, with two thin braids running down her cheeks in front of her ears, and the rest bundled together behind her head. Her eyes were wide, azure pools, that gave her an innocent, almost child-like quality. She wore a linen outfit that consisted of a blue top whose sleeves she had rolled up the elbows, while a green dress with plunging neckline and thin shoulder straps was layered over it. While it was far more ordinary than the extravagant velvet that Delphine wore, the layering of different-colored apparel created a subtle, yet attractive effect. Teresa made a mental note to herself to try to look for similar tops and dresses when she went shopping later.

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"Good morning Ardaline," the Breton said cheerfully, "I brought you a customer."

"Oh hello," the young Altmer said, fixing the deep blue pools of her eyes first upon Teresa, then on the bags which the wood elf carried. "My name is Ardaline, how can I help you."

"Hi Ardaline," Teresa said, feeling an instant liking for the other woman, whom she guessed might be near her own age. She carefully set down her bags on the counter with a clinking of glass, and extended her hand to the Altmer. The alchemist took her fingers gently within her own, her skin feeling soft and warm to the touch. Teresa could not help but to notice the difference between it and the handshake that Pappy had offered her the day before. "I'm Teresa. I just got in town yesterday. I walked down from the Imperial City and gathered up some ingredients that I was hoping to sell. I have some potions I made too."

"Sure," the Altmer woman smiled. "Let us see what you have."

Teresa first opened the sack of her potions, and began to carefully arrange the tiny bottles across the counter top. They were not labeled, but she could tell each by their subtle variations in color of the liquids within. "These are Healing, these few here Invisibility, these are Feather, this is a Night Eye, and here are some Shields." she said, proudly, pointing to each group of potions in turn.

"Oh my, you have been busy." Ardaline breathed as she looked over the sea of bottles across her counter. Lifting one before her eyes, she passed a hand over it. Tiny sparkles of purple light illuminated her eyes. Setting down the bottle, she looked back at Teresa with those glowing purple orbs. "You do good work. Most of the alchemists here cannot create potions with this potency."

"What is that spell?" Teresa could not help but to ask, even as she felt the blush warming her cheeks at the other woman's compliment. "It tells you what the potions are?"

"Oh yes," the other woman explained, looking surprised. "It is a simple mysticism spell, anolyze Alchemy. It was one of the first spells I learned at University. Given all the potions we handle here it is a must."

"That is incredible!" Teresa breathed, "I had no idea there was such a thing."

"Really?" the other woman said, the purple light fading from her eyes as her spell expired. "You did not go to the Arcane U? Given the quality of your work here, I thought you were a graduate?"

"Oh no," Teresa said, feeling her cheeks continue to flush with warmth. "I could never have afforded that. I only picked up a few things on the streets is all."

"Indeed?" the other woman asked. "Who was your teacher? They must have been rather skilled."

"No one," Teresa looked down at her feet, feeling herself beginning to squirm under the other woman's attention. Stop it! she told herself, she had every right to be proud of what she could do. "I just learned a few things over the years. There are really only a few potions I know how to make."

"That is amazing," the Altmer said with a smile as she cast her anolyze spell again and began looking over the rest of Teresa's potions. Picking up each in turn and studying it, she also set her fingers to the bottles. A yellow point of light sparked from her fingertips as she traced designs upon them. The glass underneath rose to meet her hand, creating a raised impression of the symbols she drew upon the glass. Teresa instantly recognized the two serpents coiled around a central staff that Ardaline inscribed on her Healing potions and the shield for her Shield potions. They were the standard symbols she saw on all Mages Guild potions.

"So that's a spell too," Teresa breathed as she watched the Altmer magician marking each bottle. "I thought you had the bottles all made with those symbols?"

"Oh goodness no," Ardaline declared. "Imagine if someone put something poisonous in a health bottle by accident. That would be embarrassing! Besides, it is probably cheaper for us to buy plain vials and mark them ourselves. I don't know how you manage to keep track of them."

"Oh, I can tell by the colors," Teresa explained, pointing to the bottles. "Even with potions of the same school, like healing and fortifies, there are little differences in the shade."

"You can see that?" the Altmer looked surprised. "I could never tell by just looking. You really have some talent I think. Have you thought of going to the University? You could learn quite a bit."

"Oh I don't have the money for something like that," Teresa explained, trying to imagine the small fortune that an Arcane University education would cost. She remembered her promise to Simplicia. She was going to buy the old woman a home, somewhere nice and quiet, with a garden. "Besides, I have other more important things than me to spend my money on."

"I know it can be expensive, I will be paying back my loan for years," the guild alchemist said as she continued to go through the bottles. "But it is well worth it. The University has a special Alchemy program too. It is only three years, not the six for full mages, plus a year internship of course. If it's only money, the guild will sponsor you and loan you the tuition. So long as you have talent of course. Given what I see here that is not a problem for you."

"I just can't see me doing that." Teresa looked down at her feet again, trying to imagine herself in the Arcane University. As if they would allow a prole from the streets like her into a fancy place like that! she thought. They would probably laugh her straight out the door.

"I am sorry," the Altmer woman's voice caused Teresa to lift her gaze. Now she saw that the golden cheeks of the high elf had turned a bright crimson. "I did not mean to sound presumptuous. I am just not good with people is all. That is why Kud-Ei has me working the Alchemy counter. She says I need to meet more people."

"I know exactly what you mean," Teresa breathed, her hand instinctively reaching out to brush against the soft skin of other woman's fingers. She thought about what a fool she had been with Ancondil the other night, and how she had lost her temper with Pappy before that, and ran crying from his guild hall. "Sometimes I think I must be the biggest idiot in the world."

"Oh no, you are brilliant!" Ardaline exclaimed with a smile. "Look at all these potions. This is journeyman quality work, some nearly master. Take these Healing potions. I can see you used lavender to make them. That is one of the most difficult plants to extract healing properties from. The apprentices here could never hope to use it for healing."

"It is? Teresa thought aloud. She had no idea. Once again she remembered what Ancondil had said about some people being natural alchemists. Could that be what she was? "You can tell what I made them with?"

"Oh yes, you can see that with anolyze Alchemy," Ardaline explained. "Although it takes some practice first. Like you said before about the colors, there are subtle variations you see in the symbols that form a potion's enchantments. After a while you learn to pick up on them all."

"Do you think you could teach me those spells?" Teresa's mind whirled at the possibilities. Both would make her work so much easier!

"Well, I am no instructor," Ardaline's brow furrowed as she spoke, then her features lightened into a smile once more. "I am sure Kud-Ei or Aryarie could though. We can take it in trade for some of your potions. You should still have a good bit of gold left over, you have some quality brews here."

"That would be wonderful!" Teresa managed a faint smile at the thought of her eyes sparkling with that same purple light as she examined the potions she found in the old forts and Ayleid ruins. Then she remembered her other bag, and she opened it as Ardaline busied herself setting aside the potions that Teresa had made.

Next time Maxical goes to lunch with Delphine, she will have to order sausages and perch and set them in the middle of the table, see which one she reaches for first !!! ROFL !! Just kidding. Delphine can't make tea and wonders why everyone runs off so quick - :rofl: Awesome write !!

Wonderful alchemy chapter! Alchemy is one of my favorite parts of the game, and I tend to master this skill very quickly because I love making potions (and poisons for my assassin character). Comes from my science background, I guess.

It was a wonderful umm, what would I call it? "chick interlude," starting with a early morning walk around Bravil, leading to clothes, then to an amazing introduction to the potential of alchemy and spells. :wub:


I know that "sour- or bitter-tasting" is the archaic meaning of this term, but in modern American usage it's more commonly associated with tone of voice or choice of words, such as "he spoke acerbically." Maybe in this context, you're looking more for acridic or sharp?


My feeling is that this should end in a question mark: "My name is Ardaline, how can I help you?"

That's it for the nits. I'm sure Acadian or someone else will see something I missed!

Thanks for continuing to write TF. It's a great read! I've been a fan for some time, but I think you've made an addict out of me when you introduced Pappy! :drool:

:read: A wonderful relaxing interlude.

I thoroughly enjoyed the rich descriptions and dialogue, complete with Teresa's inner thoughts.

You have introduced some logical and clever magical innovations.

Great job of capturing the bubbly temperment of Delphine and the shy nature of Ardaline.



She thought about what an{a?} fool she had been with Ancondil the other night,
Heh, I can see you probably did a late edit and perhaps the original had 'an idiot' or some other word that required the 'an'.

Let me get these out of the way first:



Must be an apothecary specializing in willow bark concoctions....



"Lit," I think?



And I see the Acadi-editor beat me to that one...

You have such a gift for description and dialogue and the inner workings of Teresa's (sometimes confused) mind. And it a treat for us that you let us "look over your shoulder" and see Tamriel through her eyes.

Again, your ideas on alchemy provide so much more depth, both to the concept itself and to Teresa's innate talent.

Perhaps it is a somewhat "girly" chapter, but what is wrong with that. I have contended before that it takes an outstanding writer to make the quiet moments as compelling as the "action scenes." And so you do, and so you are.