Glad you and the Fox enjoyed the poetry- my father was a sergeant during WWII and introduced me to Service and Kipling early. That is one of the many wonderful things he did for me that I will never be able to repay. The best tribute I can manage is to pass it on.
Yup, I have a tendency to allow my characters to lug around summoning scrolls and rings and amulets- which they never remember to use... I just don't play magic-based characters enough.
After the fight with the final hunter, I thought you would have a hard time doing better when Dragol showed up. And that's what I get for thinking! What a brilliant, crunching, cinematic battle that was. Julian dodging that great axe which, even inexpertly handled, is still deadly. And having to remain aware of the pesky archer all the time, as well.
This was a Hall of Fame fight scene- training and determination overcoming muscle and avarice.
Sorry Aleron could not be kept alive, but it saves Ursanne from having to kill him herself. And it adds a realism that is often lacking- a reminder that no matter how heroic your character, s/he can't save everyone.
Brilliant work.
Full Version: Old Habits Die Hard Part Two
I will say only this.
I couldn't have plotted, and written, that fight scene better myself.
nuff said.
I couldn't have plotted, and written, that fight scene better myself.
nuff said.
I like how Dragol was just going to leave Julian locked up in the Fort. Even better yet, how she taunted him into turning to fight.
Now that was an exciting fight! Especially so that Dragol was not a trained fighter, and made rookie mistakes. It is nice to see a villain who is not an uber-fighter, but rather a leader. Julian, otoh, shows her experience in the way she picks her ground and takes her time, wearing him down until she can find an opening to exploit.
Finally, we see a good use of her skeleton. Bones! That was the same name my character Saya used for her skeleton (whom I eventually made into a companion with the CM Partners mod).
nits:
A place under the walkway where the ground rose nearly to the underside of the walkway, its arched support providing additional cover, appeared in the corner of my eye.
You have walkway twice here, and sentence that rather runs on as well. How about:
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a place where the ground rose nearly to the underside of the walkway. Its arched support provided additional cover, so I retreated there. Placing my back to the wall in the corner created by the exterior wall of the keep and the support pillar, I let the orc come to me.
Now that was an exciting fight! Especially so that Dragol was not a trained fighter, and made rookie mistakes. It is nice to see a villain who is not an uber-fighter, but rather a leader. Julian, otoh, shows her experience in the way she picks her ground and takes her time, wearing him down until she can find an opening to exploit.
Finally, we see a good use of her skeleton. Bones! That was the same name my character Saya used for her skeleton (whom I eventually made into a companion with the CM Partners mod).
nits:
A place under the walkway where the ground rose nearly to the underside of the walkway, its arched support providing additional cover, appeared in the corner of my eye.
You have walkway twice here, and sentence that rather runs on as well. How about:
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a place where the ground rose nearly to the underside of the walkway. Its arched support provided additional cover, so I retreated there. Placing my back to the wall in the corner created by the exterior wall of the keep and the support pillar, I let the orc come to me.
A grand ending, very well choreographed and written, it felt like I was there watching. I agree having Dragol unskilled (but still a massive orc with an axe) was a good move, it adds realism that the main boss was a better mobster than fighter.
The archer was a nice addition to even things up, I would say that her injuries seemed a bit severe to be doing much swinging of swords, though perhaps being shot isn't as bad if you're halfway though a fight (and she is the hero of kvatch ;P).
And I suspect we'll be seeing more skelitons in the future, the inclusion of magic into her style is great, and the development is slow enough to be convincing.
The archer was a nice addition to even things up, I would say that her injuries seemed a bit severe to be doing much swinging of swords, though perhaps being shot isn't as bad if you're halfway though a fight (and she is the hero of kvatch ;P).
And I suspect we'll be seeing more skelitons in the future, the inclusion of magic into her style is great, and the development is slow enough to be convincing.
@Acadian: Yes, Julian helps me write. That’s the fun of writing - getting inside someone else’s head and experiencing what they experience. I had to laugh at your description of an archer nightmare!
@treydog:
@Foxy: Your comment = music to my ears!
@SubRosa: I figured why would Dragol kill Julian? Leave her there for the next clients! Bones will accompany Julian only for a while longer, until she gets proficient enough for the next level. I’ll think about how I want to rewrite that sentence you pointed out. Thanks for the input.
@Olen: The archer hit Julian twice in the left shoulder/arm, and she was wielding the katana in the right hand. I know how I can keep going after getting bit/kicked/stepped on thanks to adrenaline. Not to brag, but I’ve groomed and tacked out a horse (and drove him on an obstacle course) after having a rib broken by my rambunctious colt (horse kick), rode my mare after she kicked me in the thigh and did something to my hip (not quite broken or dislocated), and wrestled a mean Rottie onto the Xray table after he bit my left wrist. All those things hurt like heck the next morning. If only I had Marz around at those times . . .
Julian confronts her painful injuries and figures out how to escape Fort Grief. This is the last segment of Chapter 13.
****************
Chapter 13.11 Escape from Fort Grief
The shadows were considerably longer when I opened my eyes. With a gasp, I realized that I had lost consciousness for an unknown amount of time. I could feel the growing chill in the air that signaled nightfall. With some difficulty, I sat up, and became aware of the two arrows in my left arm and shoulder. Briefly I considered pulling them out, but decided to leave that for a healer. Marz. She can help me. Gods, I hope she can silence this headache.
The Khajiit bowman lay next to me, deader than I. Reaching over, I examined his quiver. He had about ten arrows. How many do I have? Twenty-four? I decided to leave his arrows. In his pocket, I found ten drakes and took them. I also discovered two vials of healing potions in his belt pouch, and drank them hastily. The headache still persisted, but my left arm and right knee felt better.
After a couple of healing spells, I sheathed my katana and struggled to my feet. I limped over to gro-Dragol’s body and knelt awkwardly next to him, searching his pockets. I found about twenty septims and a key, different from the ones I had removed from the hunters. The big Orc had little else of value, so I left him with his shattered axe. The nearby pillar provided support as I pulled myself back onto my feet and limped to Loche’s body. I looked down at what was left of his face - gro-Dragol’s axe had done its job a little too well. The old Breton was unrecognizable.
I knelt next to him and recovered his house key, six drakes, and a brass ring with an inset pearl. Slipping them into my belt purse, I sat quietly next to the body. Now I have to go back and tell his wife he is dead. What she has feared the most has come to pass, and I couldn’t stop it. I dreaded the look on her face when she learned the news. The smith hammered harder at the thought.
Getting back to my feet was a struggle, and I started walking towards the gate. I found it locked, as Loche had said. An examination of the barrier revealed no lock for the key I had removed from gro-Dragol. As I leaned against it, I could see the rowboat with the taciturn Argonian sitting on his haunches next to it. The man was gazing out across the Niben, as motionless as a statue. Do I call out to him? He works for gro-Dragol, am I going to have to kill him too? I hated the thought of it, since he seemed thin and unhealthy in worn sackcloth clothing.
The key heavy in my hand, I turned it in my fingers thoughtfully. Where does this key go? How do I get this damned gate open? Wait, it opened by a crank handle outside, there has to be another one in here somewhere. I searched my memory as I looked around the keep. This key must allow me access to an interior crank to open that gate. But where?
Not out here, I decided, for I hadn’t seen anything like a door or a gate. With a glance at the heavy door leading into the Hunter’s Run, I regarded it thoughtfully. Inside. It has to be inside there. Past those traps? But I had explored every passage, every doorway in there, except . . . Wait, there was a locked gate with a room beyond, just within the entrance. I wonder . . .
I pushed myself off the wall and limped slowly to the door to re-enter the Hunter’s Run. Just a few paces down the corridor, in the shadows between the front door and the first pair of wall torches, I spotted the half-remembered bronze gate. I checked it - still locked. It was too dark to see how it was secured.
I wrestled a nearby torch out of its socket. Its light fell on the gate, and I could see the lockplate on its right side. Gro-Dragol’s key fit, and the tumblers turned with a satisfying click. The gate now open, I held the torch in front of me to cast light into the space beyond.
The room was small, barely bigger than an alcove, and in the center, on the floor, was a crank handle much like the one I had turned outside the keep. The torch in my left hand, I reached for it and turned it clockwise. It didn’t shift. The other direction was more successful, and I felt a click within the handle.
I looked around the room one more time, not finding anything of interest, and returned the torch to its sconce. Back outside, I could just barely see the gateway out of the keep, and saw that the double gates stood open. Did it! I started towards it, then remembered the wine! Loche stashed the bottles in that lean to.
Detouring to the shack, I found the faded silk robe folded beneath the weathered boards. The bottles were still underneath the red fabric. As I picked them up, a sudden urge - an urge to uncork one bottle and take a deep draught of the wine - overwhelmed me.
The force of the sudden craving dropped me to my knees, breathless. I closed my eyes and put the bottles carefully down on the silk robe. The smith’s hammer was pounding in my skull now, and a metallic, horrid taste developed in my mouth, a taste that only drink or skooma could wash away.
I’ve been fine for weeks! Why now? Then it hit me. The headaches. They had stopped when the Emperor first spoke to me, and only returned when I hit my head fighting that Orc hunter in the flooded room. With the smith’s hammer the craving for drink had slowly increased, until now my hands were sweaty and shaking.
I need healing. Badly. Akatosh, let Marz heal me. Something stirred in my gut. Slowly, I wrapped the bottles in the silken robe, using the sleeves to tie the bundle together. That dreadful taste resisted my efforts to swallow it away, so I limped to the gates and looked through them. The thin Argonian still sat on the dock, his haunches on his heels, tail extended behind him as a brace. His back to me, he gave no indication that he was aware of the combat that had occurred within the keep.
My improvised sack clenched in my left hand behind the Kvatch Wolf, I drew the katana and limped out. I watched the Argonian as I picked my way carefully along the short, rocky path to the dock. He did not move, but continued gazing towards Bravil.
Once on the weathered boards, I stopped and cleared my throat. The scaled head whipped around, then his body followed as he whirled to stand facing me. His eyes widened when he spotted me, and widened further when he glanced behind me at the open gates of the keep.
“gro-Dragol let you out?” he hissed, incredulous. I shook my head. His eyes narrowed at me, and I raised the tip of my katana. “You killed him,” it was a statement. When I nodded, his tense posture relaxed, and he grinned. “Good, I am free of him at lasst.”
“What?” I asked him, still wary of subterfuge on his part. He put his long-fingered hands together and bowed slightly.
“I owed gro-Dragol much, much drakess,” he answered. “He had me working for him, ferrying clientss, prey, and him here. I had to be at hiss beck and call.”
“Obviously he never paid you enough,” I said after a moment. We regarded each other silently for several long seconds, as the sun lowered further towards the western horizon.
“Come, it iss late,” the Argonian said. “I will bring you back to Bravil.” He looked at me up and down. “You need healing, and resst.”
@treydog:
QUOTE
I have a tendency to allow my characters to lug around summoning scrolls and rings and amulets - which they never remember to use . . .
Exactly the way I play! Writing this segment was rather easy considering my adrenaline was already pumping after the previous one!@Foxy: Your comment = music to my ears!
@SubRosa: I figured why would Dragol kill Julian? Leave her there for the next clients! Bones will accompany Julian only for a while longer, until she gets proficient enough for the next level. I’ll think about how I want to rewrite that sentence you pointed out. Thanks for the input.
@Olen: The archer hit Julian twice in the left shoulder/arm, and she was wielding the katana in the right hand. I know how I can keep going after getting bit/kicked/stepped on thanks to adrenaline. Not to brag, but I’ve groomed and tacked out a horse (and drove him on an obstacle course) after having a rib broken by my rambunctious colt (horse kick), rode my mare after she kicked me in the thigh and did something to my hip (not quite broken or dislocated), and wrestled a mean Rottie onto the Xray table after he bit my left wrist. All those things hurt like heck the next morning. If only I had Marz around at those times . . .
Julian confronts her painful injuries and figures out how to escape Fort Grief. This is the last segment of Chapter 13.
****************
Chapter 13.11 Escape from Fort Grief
The shadows were considerably longer when I opened my eyes. With a gasp, I realized that I had lost consciousness for an unknown amount of time. I could feel the growing chill in the air that signaled nightfall. With some difficulty, I sat up, and became aware of the two arrows in my left arm and shoulder. Briefly I considered pulling them out, but decided to leave that for a healer. Marz. She can help me. Gods, I hope she can silence this headache.
The Khajiit bowman lay next to me, deader than I. Reaching over, I examined his quiver. He had about ten arrows. How many do I have? Twenty-four? I decided to leave his arrows. In his pocket, I found ten drakes and took them. I also discovered two vials of healing potions in his belt pouch, and drank them hastily. The headache still persisted, but my left arm and right knee felt better.
After a couple of healing spells, I sheathed my katana and struggled to my feet. I limped over to gro-Dragol’s body and knelt awkwardly next to him, searching his pockets. I found about twenty septims and a key, different from the ones I had removed from the hunters. The big Orc had little else of value, so I left him with his shattered axe. The nearby pillar provided support as I pulled myself back onto my feet and limped to Loche’s body. I looked down at what was left of his face - gro-Dragol’s axe had done its job a little too well. The old Breton was unrecognizable.
I knelt next to him and recovered his house key, six drakes, and a brass ring with an inset pearl. Slipping them into my belt purse, I sat quietly next to the body. Now I have to go back and tell his wife he is dead. What she has feared the most has come to pass, and I couldn’t stop it. I dreaded the look on her face when she learned the news. The smith hammered harder at the thought.
Getting back to my feet was a struggle, and I started walking towards the gate. I found it locked, as Loche had said. An examination of the barrier revealed no lock for the key I had removed from gro-Dragol. As I leaned against it, I could see the rowboat with the taciturn Argonian sitting on his haunches next to it. The man was gazing out across the Niben, as motionless as a statue. Do I call out to him? He works for gro-Dragol, am I going to have to kill him too? I hated the thought of it, since he seemed thin and unhealthy in worn sackcloth clothing.
The key heavy in my hand, I turned it in my fingers thoughtfully. Where does this key go? How do I get this damned gate open? Wait, it opened by a crank handle outside, there has to be another one in here somewhere. I searched my memory as I looked around the keep. This key must allow me access to an interior crank to open that gate. But where?
Not out here, I decided, for I hadn’t seen anything like a door or a gate. With a glance at the heavy door leading into the Hunter’s Run, I regarded it thoughtfully. Inside. It has to be inside there. Past those traps? But I had explored every passage, every doorway in there, except . . . Wait, there was a locked gate with a room beyond, just within the entrance. I wonder . . .
I pushed myself off the wall and limped slowly to the door to re-enter the Hunter’s Run. Just a few paces down the corridor, in the shadows between the front door and the first pair of wall torches, I spotted the half-remembered bronze gate. I checked it - still locked. It was too dark to see how it was secured.
I wrestled a nearby torch out of its socket. Its light fell on the gate, and I could see the lockplate on its right side. Gro-Dragol’s key fit, and the tumblers turned with a satisfying click. The gate now open, I held the torch in front of me to cast light into the space beyond.
The room was small, barely bigger than an alcove, and in the center, on the floor, was a crank handle much like the one I had turned outside the keep. The torch in my left hand, I reached for it and turned it clockwise. It didn’t shift. The other direction was more successful, and I felt a click within the handle.
I looked around the room one more time, not finding anything of interest, and returned the torch to its sconce. Back outside, I could just barely see the gateway out of the keep, and saw that the double gates stood open. Did it! I started towards it, then remembered the wine! Loche stashed the bottles in that lean to.
Detouring to the shack, I found the faded silk robe folded beneath the weathered boards. The bottles were still underneath the red fabric. As I picked them up, a sudden urge - an urge to uncork one bottle and take a deep draught of the wine - overwhelmed me.
The force of the sudden craving dropped me to my knees, breathless. I closed my eyes and put the bottles carefully down on the silk robe. The smith’s hammer was pounding in my skull now, and a metallic, horrid taste developed in my mouth, a taste that only drink or skooma could wash away.
I’ve been fine for weeks! Why now? Then it hit me. The headaches. They had stopped when the Emperor first spoke to me, and only returned when I hit my head fighting that Orc hunter in the flooded room. With the smith’s hammer the craving for drink had slowly increased, until now my hands were sweaty and shaking.
I need healing. Badly. Akatosh, let Marz heal me. Something stirred in my gut. Slowly, I wrapped the bottles in the silken robe, using the sleeves to tie the bundle together. That dreadful taste resisted my efforts to swallow it away, so I limped to the gates and looked through them. The thin Argonian still sat on the dock, his haunches on his heels, tail extended behind him as a brace. His back to me, he gave no indication that he was aware of the combat that had occurred within the keep.
My improvised sack clenched in my left hand behind the Kvatch Wolf, I drew the katana and limped out. I watched the Argonian as I picked my way carefully along the short, rocky path to the dock. He did not move, but continued gazing towards Bravil.
Once on the weathered boards, I stopped and cleared my throat. The scaled head whipped around, then his body followed as he whirled to stand facing me. His eyes widened when he spotted me, and widened further when he glanced behind me at the open gates of the keep.
“gro-Dragol let you out?” he hissed, incredulous. I shook my head. His eyes narrowed at me, and I raised the tip of my katana. “You killed him,” it was a statement. When I nodded, his tense posture relaxed, and he grinned. “Good, I am free of him at lasst.”
“What?” I asked him, still wary of subterfuge on his part. He put his long-fingered hands together and bowed slightly.
“I owed gro-Dragol much, much drakess,” he answered. “He had me working for him, ferrying clientss, prey, and him here. I had to be at hiss beck and call.”
“Obviously he never paid you enough,” I said after a moment. We regarded each other silently for several long seconds, as the sun lowered further towards the western horizon.
“Come, it iss late,” the Argonian said. “I will bring you back to Bravil.” He looked at me up and down. “You need healing, and resst.”
That touch...of the sudden, unexpected craving for a drug - I have seen that happen to addicts in real life. Kudos for realism, Hautee!
At .11, this is one of your larger chapters. Looks like a lot of people came to grief in that fort...
I had forgotten about Julian having the drinking problem as well as the skooma one. The skooma tends to be overwhelming in the mind. I liked how it was the Emperor who "cured" her of her addictions, albeit only temporarily. It helps reinforce that he was a larger-than-life person, someone who changes everyone he meets.
Hopefully Julian will get some of that well-needed rest and healing, she certainly needs it!
I had forgotten about Julian having the drinking problem as well as the skooma one. The skooma tends to be overwhelming in the mind. I liked how it was the Emperor who "cured" her of her addictions, albeit only temporarily. It helps reinforce that he was a larger-than-life person, someone who changes everyone he meets.
Hopefully Julian will get some of that well-needed rest and healing, she certainly needs it!
I'm so glad Julian figured out how to get that gate open. 
You really put me in Julian's head as she wrestled with the tempting relief of the wine. I was holding my breath, unsure what to expect - even from our strong Redguard - until she managed to choose as she did. I'm so proud of you, Julian. I so hope Marz can help.
To make matters worse, Julian must deliver the tragic news to Ursanne.
I was worried about how you were going to handle the Argonian 'driver'. I should not have worried, for the answer is 'brilliantly'. Your explanation not only made perfect sense, but it was also very satisfying. I'm glad he did not have to join the body count at Fort Grief. Of course I'm also a little selfish in wanting to spare poor Julian's arrow-pierced left shoulder the challenge of trying to row to Bravil by herself.
You really put me in Julian's head as she wrestled with the tempting relief of the wine. I was holding my breath, unsure what to expect - even from our strong Redguard - until she managed to choose as she did. I'm so proud of you, Julian. I so hope Marz can help.
To make matters worse, Julian must deliver the tragic news to Ursanne.
I was worried about how you were going to handle the Argonian 'driver'. I should not have worried, for the answer is 'brilliantly'. Your explanation not only made perfect sense, but it was also very satisfying. I'm glad he did not have to join the body count at Fort Grief. Of course I'm also a little selfish in wanting to spare poor Julian's arrow-pierced left shoulder the challenge of trying to row to Bravil by herself.
Greetings.
There are so many chapters to praise you on so I will stick with: OMG! this is awesome. The realism of your character is brilliant. Most of the time I forget that you are following a quest because your writing is so natural. Another congratulations is in order for your descriptions of food. I hopw Julian can resist that wine, I hear S'drassa at the Leyawiin mages guild is developing a cure for skooma addiction
Keep up the good work. 
There are so many chapters to praise you on so I will stick with: OMG! this is awesome. The realism of your character is brilliant. Most of the time I forget that you are following a quest because your writing is so natural. Another congratulations is in order for your descriptions of food. I hopw Julian can resist that wine, I hear S'drassa at the Leyawiin mages guild is developing a cure for skooma addiction
Keep up the good work.
And we leave Fort Grief... I suspect Marz will have some tutting to do after healing her (and we may discover more about those headaches). And it looks like another Argonian likes her now, perhaps she could get him to drop her off on a little sunny island in the Nibben for a break after she's done beating up Dagon...
I can see there being some rest anyway, if she goes where I expect at least.
Great stuff, and pleanty drawing it on though I am looking forward to the next (?) quest. A lot.
I can see there being some rest anyway, if she goes where I expect at least.
Great stuff, and pleanty drawing it on though I am looking forward to the next (?) quest. A lot.
What stands out to me about this installment? Well, let's start with the first sentence and read through to the last one. Yes, that covers it.
You very effectively describe the toll taken not just by the last fight, but all the ones before. And, with exhaustion comes craving. Athlain can identify.
The fact that the Argonian is another debt-slave was a nice touch, especially so as Julian sought to persuade rather than kill indiscriminately. If Marz is unable to solve the skooma problem, there is a certain red-haired elven princess who has had some success...
You very effectively describe the toll taken not just by the last fight, but all the ones before. And, with exhaustion comes craving. Athlain can identify.
The fact that the Argonian is another debt-slave was a nice touch, especially so as Julian sought to persuade rather than kill indiscriminately. If Marz is unable to solve the skooma problem, there is a certain red-haired elven princess who has had some success...
13.10 Hunter’s Revenge
You had me by opening with the worst part of the quest, stepping out of Fort Grief (what a great name!) just in time to see Aleron get the axe (literally). From there the battle that followed did not disappoint. In the hands of a lesser writer Julian taking down both Kurdan and his Khajiit friend so soon after her epic battle inside the Fort could have buried the needle on the uber-scale. Your handling of it not only showed Julian’s abilities, but her limitations as well.
IMHO you could simplify the sentence that SubRosa pointed out by saying something to the effect of:
A place where the ground rose nearly to the underside of the walkway caught my eye. Its arched support would provide additional cover.
*Must . . . resist . . . Dhertee Inuu-Endo!*
13.11 Escape from Fort Grief
The return to Bravil and its unwelcome reminders, the return of the smith’s hammer that puts paid to both peace and sanity. It is no wonder that Julian’s craving would revisit itself upon her with such force. Your description of it was remarkable, and I must confess to the pride I felt in Julian that she was strong enough to resist the call. Well done to you both!
*Oh you are killing me, hautee!!!*
You had me by opening with the worst part of the quest, stepping out of Fort Grief (what a great name!) just in time to see Aleron get the axe (literally). From there the battle that followed did not disappoint. In the hands of a lesser writer Julian taking down both Kurdan and his Khajiit friend so soon after her epic battle inside the Fort could have buried the needle on the uber-scale. Your handling of it not only showed Julian’s abilities, but her limitations as well.
IMHO you could simplify the sentence that SubRosa pointed out by saying something to the effect of:
A place where the ground rose nearly to the underside of the walkway caught my eye. Its arched support would provide additional cover.
QUOTE
Finally the axe blade shattered, leaving him with half a shaft in his two fists.
*Must . . . resist . . . Dhertee Inuu-Endo!*
13.11 Escape from Fort Grief
The return to Bravil and its unwelcome reminders, the return of the smith’s hammer that puts paid to both peace and sanity. It is no wonder that Julian’s craving would revisit itself upon her with such force. Your description of it was remarkable, and I must confess to the pride I felt in Julian that she was strong enough to resist the call. Well done to you both!
QUOTE
The big Orc had little else of value, so I left him with his shattered axe.
*Oh you are killing me, hautee!!!*
QUOTE(Destri Melarg @ Aug 16 2010, 06:56 PM) 
QUOTE
Finally the axe blade shattered, leaving him with half a shaft in his two fists.
*Must . . . resist . . . Dhertee Inuu-Endo!*
"It takes two hands to handle a whopper"
@Foxy: Alcoholism runs in my family, so I’ve seen the same things you have. Thanks for your validation of my little touches. I felt the addiction needs to be addressed from time to time. The Fort Grief quest was great for so many reasons, and the resurgence of the addictive cravings is just the icing on the cake.
@SubRosa: This is the largest chapter I’ve written thus far. I wanted to remind everyone that Julian found skooma after drinking failed to subdue the pain she was experiencing. Alcoholism is addiction, just legal, at least in this country at this time.
@Acadian: It made sense to me when I first wrote this quest to have a chauffeur row Julian out to Fort Grief, since there are quite a few islands in Niben Bay. It’s kind of hard to swim with sword and shield, and rather far!
@hazmick: Welcome to Old Habits Die Hard! Thanks for taking the time to read through the whole thing! I know it’s a lot of ground to cover, and I’m glad you did. The food sounds so appealing (for the most part) simply because I do my own cooking and love to experiment with flavors. So far, I haven’t made anything that tasted as bad as Maulhand’s stew!
@Olen: A nice sunny island? Sounds good! Though I think Julian would prefer one of the many islands off of the Gold Coast rather than one out in Niben Bay.
@Auggie Doggie: Does that certain red-headed princess make house (field) calls?
@Destri: I’m surprised that it was you, not Foxy, who found Dhertee Inuu-Endo! Thanks for the help on rephrasing that troublesome sentence in 13.10. At all of you who commented on Julian’s resistance to the craving, it ain’t over yet!
@mALX: LOL!
Instead of posting the next chapter, I figure it's time to close this thread and start a new one. At way over 200 posts it's getting quite long.
Old Habits Die Hard Part Three
This starts with Chapter 14. Thanks for staying with me and Julian this long! I’ve enjoyed writing this thus far, and have enjoyed all your wonderful comments and encouragement even more.
@SubRosa: This is the largest chapter I’ve written thus far. I wanted to remind everyone that Julian found skooma after drinking failed to subdue the pain she was experiencing. Alcoholism is addiction, just legal, at least in this country at this time.
@Acadian: It made sense to me when I first wrote this quest to have a chauffeur row Julian out to Fort Grief, since there are quite a few islands in Niben Bay. It’s kind of hard to swim with sword and shield, and rather far!
@hazmick: Welcome to Old Habits Die Hard! Thanks for taking the time to read through the whole thing! I know it’s a lot of ground to cover, and I’m glad you did. The food sounds so appealing (for the most part) simply because I do my own cooking and love to experiment with flavors. So far, I haven’t made anything that tasted as bad as Maulhand’s stew!
@Olen: A nice sunny island? Sounds good! Though I think Julian would prefer one of the many islands off of the Gold Coast rather than one out in Niben Bay.
@Auggie Doggie: Does that certain red-headed princess make house (field) calls?
@Destri: I’m surprised that it was you, not Foxy, who found Dhertee Inuu-Endo! Thanks for the help on rephrasing that troublesome sentence in 13.10. At all of you who commented on Julian’s resistance to the craving, it ain’t over yet!
@mALX: LOL!
Instead of posting the next chapter, I figure it's time to close this thread and start a new one. At way over 200 posts it's getting quite long.
Old Habits Die Hard Part Three
This starts with Chapter 14. Thanks for staying with me and Julian this long! I’ve enjoyed writing this thus far, and have enjoyed all your wonderful comments and encouragement even more.
I don't know how many times I tried to save Aleron on my first play through hahaha. Your writing had me sitting on the tip of my seat although I damn well knew how it was going to end...
Hautie!
Your story is brilliant, I've read it through so far, but I've decided to read the whole thing once again....at one time, just because...You know how it is...some books you can read over and over..and never get bored, instead you find new things...
Hence....the author wishes this thread to be locked.....so be it.
Your story is brilliant, I've read it through so far, but I've decided to read the whole thing once again....at one time, just because...You know how it is...some books you can read over and over..and never get bored, instead you find new things...
Hence....the author wishes this thread to be locked.....so be it.
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