Old Habits Die Hard Part Three, The old dog practices new habits Options

[haute ecole rider]

@mALX: If I can give you goosebumps, my job is done.

@SubRosa: Yes, I felt that those two bravos can not survive this Gate without doing some growing up. But as Julian and I know all too well, old habits die hard. Their transformation won’t be quite as complete as we would like. But at least it’s a start!

@Acadian: I prefer to refer to my summons by name rather than “summoned atronach” or just plain “summons.” And yes, it is Julian reverting to old habits when she gives her companions the confidence at the end.

@Destri: I’ll let you decide for yourself if Julian’s lesson sticks once Farwil is back in familiar surroundings.

@Fox: Aw, gee, thanks! Now where’s that darn twirl emoticon when I need it? Would you accept this instead?

@treydog: As a veterinarian, I understand the importance of learning. Life is about learning. If you stop learning (or changing), you die. It’s that simple. And Julian has learned that hard lesson a long time ago. I’m glad you liked my latest “show!”

Count Indarys turns out to be less irritating than his son. Sort of.

**********************
Chapter 18.3 The Count's Gratitude

Amminus Gregori, to his credit, sized up the situation quickly, and had the guards escort us to the Chapel for immediate healing. While we rested under the care of Ohtesse, Count Andel Indarys, Farwil’s father, arrived with half the Guard in tow.

After a murmured conversation with his son, the Count turned and looked across the infirmary at me. Slumped in an easy chair, my right arm in a sling, I sipped at tea mixed with a powerful healing potion. Of the three of us, I had sustained the least physical injury, only a broken shoulder. However, my magicka had been badly depleted, which left me weak as a baby.

“You’re exhausted, Julian,” Ohtesse said to me, drawing my attention from the Dunmer Count. “You need to rest for a while, before you can travel again.” With a gentle touch, she adjusted the sling over my left shoulder. “Keep this on for a full day - your right shoulder will heal stronger for it.” The beautiful Altmer woman met my gaze with her hazel eyes. “You can stay here while you recover.”

“Nay,” the Count spoke from behind Ohtesse. She bowed and retreated. “Julian of Anvil,” he turned to me and waved me back down when I tried to rise. “You are welcome to stay in the Castle.”

“Thank you for your kindness, serjo,” I bowed from the waist. Indarys nodded at his bodyguard, who drew up another easy chair for him. As the Dunmer noble seated himself, the soldier took up position behind him. I looked into my tea. “I have a bed at the Mages Guild here in town.”

“Ah, you are a mage, then?” Indarys rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, steepling his fingers in front of his chin.

“No, serjo,” I shook my head. “Only a mere Associate.” When I caught Ohtesse’s stern glance from across the infirmary, I took another sip of the medicated tea. “I have much to learn about magic.”

“And being a Redguard, you don’t have much magicka to begin with,” Indarys held my gaze. “You are more a fighter, no?”

“I was trained to it, serjo.” Finished with the last of the tea, I lowered the cup to my lap.

“And yet you gave my son all of your healing potions, and you saved his friend’s life at great risk to your own,” the Count lowered his hands, turning one of them to study his immaculately manicured fingernails. “I’m certain Farwil tried your patience dearly. Like any father,” now he pinned me to the chair with his red gaze, “I love him dearly. Yet, he has much to learn, before he can take my place as Count of Cheydinhal.”

Memories of how Farwil had dealt with two incapacitated companions at the end still fresh in my mind, I considered the Count’s words. “It will take him time to find his maturity, serjo,” I looked across the infirmary, where Farwil sat on the edge of Senyan’s cot, regaling not a few of the Count’s Guard with stories. Though his voice was for the most part too quiet for me to hear, an occasional huzzah! - along with some manly chest thumping - would reach me at intervals. The right side of my mouth quirked slightly as I looked back at the Count. “But I have no doubt when the time comes, he will do well.”

Now Indarys clasped his hands loosely in front of him, watching his son. “I do see a little maturity already,” he agreed. “For that, and for my son’s life, I owe you a great deal. What is it you want most from life? Name it, and if it is in my power, it is yours.”

Can it be so easy? With a slow inhalation, I waited until the Count met my gaze. “Bruma is under threat, serjo,” I spoke carefully. “Already a Gate has opened, though the City Watch has closed it successfully. But there will be others. Evidence indicates that Bruma will be the next Kvatch. Not Cheydinhal, not the Imperial City, or any of the other cities of Cyrodiil.” As I paused for breath, I watched Indarys for an indication of the effect my words had on him.

His gaze did not flicker, nor did his bland expression change. He returned my look steadily, patiently. He has all the time in the world, long-lived as he is, as Dunmer are.

“All I ask, serjo, is that you send some men to Bruma to reinforce their garrison. Otherwise, they will fall, once the Bruma Watch is depleted.”

“And why should I care what happens to Bruma?” Indarys remarked, his face and voice very quiet.

“Bruma falls, so goes the rest of Cyrodiil,” I matched his tone. “Cyrodiil must make our stand at Bruma, serjo.”

A thin eyebrow quirked upwards. “Then I am not the only one you are appealing to?”

“No, serjo,” I answered. “Only the first.”

Indarys rose and walked slowly away, his personal bodyguard shadowing him. A meter away, the Dunmer count turned on his heel and looked back at me. “And for yourself, you ask for nothing?”

“What I ask for,” I answered quietly, “only Akatosh himself has the power to grant.”

********************
Indarys had left me without an answer. Now, two days later, I pulled myself out of the well behind the Mages Guild. Thank you, Merowald, for the Jewel of the Rumare. I was still shaking over what I had found in the depths of the well.

Dressed again my shirt and skirt, I re-entered the Mages Guild. The enchanted ring Falcar wanted sat heavily in my left hand, forcing me to move slowly and deliberately under its burden.

Deetsan saw me. “Julian!” She reached out to touch my left shoulder. “You look pale! What’ss wrong?”

“Where is Falcar?” I heard the barely suppressed anger in my tone. The slender Argonian recoiled at my words.

“It’ss my fault,” she answered in her soft hissing voice. “The way Falcar hass been treating all of uss. I wass worried about you, and angry about Vidkun -” her gaze sharpened on my face. “You know ssomething about him?”

“Vidkun’s dead,” I stated flatly. “Drowned in the well.” I held out my left hand, let the enchanted ring fall. It struck the floor with a surprisingly loud thump, denting the floor beneath it. “He couldn’t swim out with this on his finger.”

“He’ss dead?” Deetsan swayed, turning away from me, her wavering hands seeking and catching the counter beyond her. Her soft sobs reached me as she leaned heavily on the tabletop. I waited, feeding my anger. “I knew it!” her voice reflected my mood. “I knew ssomething like thiss musst have happened. Damned fetcher musst have known, yet he ssaid nothing!” She slammed her fist on the wooden surface, lifting her face to the ceiling. “How could he allow thiss to happen!”

Faces appeared around the foyer, from the alchemy lab, from the library, and from the study area at the sound of her anger. I ignored them. “Deetsan, where is Falcar?” my voice grated between my teeth.

Deetsan spun to glare at me, but I didn’t flinch. As angry as she was at the moment, I knew her good nature too well to trust she wouldn’t harm me. Besides, it wasn’t Deetsan I intended harm to, it was Falcar.

“I confronted him,” she hissed at me, her orange eyes blazing. “He wass sso furiouss when he found out I had given you thosse sspells. I threatened to report him to the Council of Magess!” As suddenly as her rage had flared up, it died back down. “I thought he would kill me, he wass sso angry. I didn’t undersstand half of hiss ranting.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “He sstormed out.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if he did ever write your recommendation.”

As quickly as hers, my own anger bled away. “Falcar’s gone?” I repeated. She nodded miserably.

“Excuse me,” Trayvond stepped down the stairs from the library. “Julian, if you go look in Falcar’s quarters, perhaps you’ll find that he has written a recommendation.”

****************
An hour later, I returned to where the mages gathered in the common room, murmuring quietly among themselves. Deetsan detached herself from the others and approached me.

“I didn’t find anything like a recommendation,” I spoke quietly as we drew away from the others. “But I found these,” I placed the two black soul gems into her hands. Her eyes grew wide in astonishment.

“What’ss thiss?” she hissed. “Necromancy?” Her hands closed convulsively over the gems, slipping them into a pocket of her gown. “Thiss iss sso much worsse than I thought, Julian.” She looked into my eyes. “I’ll take it from here. I will write you a recommendation and include it in my report to the Council.”

A knock at the front door interrupted my response. We turned as Trayvond opened the door, admitting a guardsman. “Good afternoon, magister,” he said politely to the grey-haired Redguard. “I have a message for Julian from Anvil.”

“I’m here,” I stepped forward, approaching the young man. He turned and bobbed his head, holding out a long, narrow package across both hands.

“I’m to wait for your reply, ma’am,” he said. The package was surprisingly heavy as I carried it to a nearby counter and set it down with a metallic clang. Can it be a sword? Right size, right weight. Opening a folded parchment, I tilted it toward the southern light falling through the stained glass window above the door.

Julian of Anvil - an old fashioned script:

I have considered your request. As you read this, the Captain of the Cheydinhal Guard is leading a squad to Bruma to reinforce the garrison there.

While I do not have the power of Akatosh, I hope you will accept this for yourself. Thornblade has been in my family for many generations. It has a powerful enchantment, useful against armored opponents. May it serve you well in the uncertain days ahead.

Count Andel Indarys

[SubRosa]

I like your invention of healing tea. It is a nice alternative to plain old "she drank a potion".

“What I ask for,” I answered quietly, “only Akatosh himself has the power to grant.”
Oooohhh!

The Jewel of the Rumare is handy for that one particular MG quest. Teresa does not mind Julian borrowing it. But she wishes she could have seen Julian before she got dressed again!

I enjoyed your portrayal of the Count, and how his questioning about her being a soldier or a mage must have made up his mind to give her Thornblade rather than the other reward.

[Acadian]

This was a delight to read! A nice closeout on that gate she closed, help for Bruma and a wonderful bonus - the Cheydinhal guild recommendation!

Boy, if I was Falcar, I would have been gone by the time Julian got back to the guild as well! I loved how you let the ring of burden dent the floor - that is some real show not tell!

[mALX]

I love so many things about this...to name just a few:


Count Indarys taking his time to consider before forking over that beautiful Thornblade. Because it is a family heirloom, it is all the more poignient that he thought hard about giving it and then chose to.

This was so perfect:

Though his voice was for the most part too quiet for me to hear, an occasional huzzah! - along with some manly chest thumping - would reach me at intervals.

Little touches that really bring out the personalities of the NPC's (recognizably in this instance) are peppered through your writing.

I thought this was huge, what an example of showing!!! :

I held out my left hand, let the enchanted ring fall. It struck the floor with a surprisingly loud thump, denting the floor beneath it.

AWESOME WRITE !!!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Oct 6 2010, 01:06 PM

[Destri Melarg]

My least favorite thing about the Cheydinhal recommendation is how blasé all of the mages are when told of Vidkun’s death. I am so glad that you addressed that within this chapter. When Julian tells Deetsan of Vidkun’s fate I could feel her anger and remorse. Likewise when Julian returns from Falcar’s study to find all the mages conversing quietly in the common room, one cannot help but realize that they are consoling each other over the death of a young and inexperienced colleague.

I won't quote the same passage already cited by mALX and Acadian. Suffice it to say that, when the ring hit the floor, I started smiling too.

And from my research I know that Thornblade carries an enchantment that should prove particularly useful against all those dremora still to come.

[Remko]

Loved the way you handled that annoying Farwil and the Cheydinhal recommendation. Falcar better watch his british boat for a certain pissed off Redguard.

@mALX: As far as I know, Thornblade is not the only blue blade. The reward from (I'm not sure which) the Reynald brother's quest or the Odiil brothers (Killing Fields) is also blue right?

[mALX]

Loved the way you handled that annoying Farwil and the Cheydinhal recommendation. Falcar better watch his british boat for a certain pissed off Redguard.

@mALX: As far as I know, Thornblade is not the only blue blade. The reward from (I'm not sure which) the Reynald brother's quest or the Odiil brothers (Killing Fields) is also blue right?

Oops! You are right, that is blue! ARGH !!!

[treydog]

You handled the transition from the Count to the Mages Guild smoothly. Again, I applaud your decision to tell the story of Vidkun's death "retrospectively." You preserve the power of Julian's righteous anger that way.

As others have noted, your NPCs have a lot more "life" than the game gives them. "Vidkun? Nope, haven't seen him."

And Count Indarys delivers- after giving the matter reasonable consideration.

[haute ecole rider]

@SubRosa: I see you picked up on the Count’s purpose to his questions. I’m conflicted about his character in the game. On the one hand I liked how he treated my NPC’s during the Allies for Bruma quest, especially once I completed the Wayward Knight; on the other hand I didn’t like his personal habits (skooma party, wastrel ways, etc). So I can’t decide if I respect him or not. The others are much easier for me to make that decision. That conflict is something I do intend to explore in the future - he has a fascinating potential.

@Acadian: Yes, I’ve tried to pin Julian down on whether Falcar fled Cheydinhal because he recognized our implacable pilus, or because Deetsan had confronted him. Julian’s not telling.

@mALX: I couldn’t resist one last dig at the overblown hubris that is our beloved Dunmer heir. I think it is something he will never lose, no matter how much he matures in the future.

@Destri: I always felt that Deetsan would make a wonderful Chapter head because of her compassion for her fellow mages. And yes, the way the secondary NPC’s react (or fail to react) to significant events is one of the most irritating things about TES IV - more irritating than the aforementioned Dunmer heir.

@Remko: Falcar had better hope that Julian doesn’t join the hapless battlemages outside Silorn! And you’re right, Chillrend (from The Killing Field) is another blue blade.

@treydog: So you agree with my decision to show only the end of the Cheydinhal recommendation. I think almost everyone has done that quest, or at least heard about it. It is one of my least favorite quests in the game just because of Falcar’s abuse of his position of power. Argh! I’m so with Julian on that one.

On her way south, Julian finally resolves the Virtuous Blood case.

*********************
Chapter 18.4 Memorial Cave

After I double-checked the area around the cave, I let Paint loose. He remained where I left him, in front of the boarded-up entrance. After I worked a couple of planks loose, I managed to create an opening large enough for me to squeeze through.

Phintias had told me that he overheard Seridur talking about traveling to Memorial Cave on occasion. It was the best lead I had to Seridur, since he had disappeared from his home. Neither Grey-Throat nor Norvalo knew where he had gone.

Since the cave did not promise ideal conditions for archery, I strapped Daedra Slayer to my back, and my plain katana at my side, leaving my bows and quiver attached to Paint’s saddle.

The cave was typical as such places go - damp, chilly, and dark. Occasional torches warned me that something other than animals used the caverns. Working my way down the passage, I came to an intersection of two hallways. The one ahead of me brought me the smell of decayed flesh and a cool draft. The other, to my right, led up into darkness, and gave me no clue what lay beyond.

In the lower passage, I found coffins broken open, some empty, some filled with scattered bones and rotting tissue. Ahead, I heard the panting of a canine. I sought the shadows against the wall, where a clump of boulders shielded me from the open space in front of me. With pink energy in my mind’s vision, I lifted my left hand in a detect life spell. Less than three meters away, the large form of a timber wolf materialized in the gloom. His panting stopped at the same time.

Cacat! He heard me! The pink glow started stalking toward my hiding place as a soft growl preceded him. When the spell faded away, I drew my katana. In the dim glow from the distant torch, I could see the shadow pass my hiding place. My breath stopped, I waited until he had moved a few steps away from me toward the passage I had just come down. As I crept toward him, I readied the katana for a stab into his side. A stone turned under my foot, and the wolf whipped around, leaping straight for my face.

As I ducked down, I raised my left hand and caught the fur of his throat in my grasp. The force of his attack bowled me over onto my back, but I kept my left arm stiff. Because of my hold on his pelt, he could not reach me with his teeth. Keeping him at arm’s length exposed his soft underbelly to me, and I took advantage of it. My longsword fell to the ground, and I drew my dagger. Blood and intestinal contents splashed onto my greaves before I could kick his body off my small blade.

On my knees, I looked forward and back, listening for other enemies. Silence met my ears, and I sheathed the dagger, picking up my katana. I retreated back to my hiding place and cast another detection spell. No pink glows this time. The range of my spell was limited, but it allowed me to see what was near.

Further down the passageway, I entered a misty cavern. I must be below the level of the lake, I realized, looking at the thick vapor covering the floor. A soughing noise drew my attention to the left side of the cavern. Ghost! Damn! My plain katana would be useless against it. Putting the katana away, I drew Daedra Slayer and crept forward, feeling my way across the uneven ground toward the undead. It turned around, facing my direction. I dropped down into the fog bank, but the ghost appeared to have missed me. It floated past me, so close I could feel the cold death emanating off the spirit. Crouched, I took a long step behind it and stabbed with the enchanted blade. Fire consumed the ghost, as it dissolved into a blob of ectoplasm on the floor.

I scooped up some of the ectoplasm into an empty vial. It’ll make a good poison. I secured the bottle and placed it back in my pouch. Still on my knee, I listened for a few moments more and was rewarded by footsteps off to the right of the cavern. Boots. Not bones, creature or ghost. I replaced Daedra Slayer at my back, and started moving toward the sound, my own booted feet silent on the stone floor.

When I was close enough to hear the breathing, the other stopped, turning slowly. I could see the slender form of a Breton in the faint torch light. “Who’s there?” she called softly, her voice sensuous. “Wolf? I can smell you. Why did you come down here, boy?”

I realized she could smell the blood and guts from the wolf, splattered on my greaves. With a frown I wondered how she could scent it with the damp air and the overpowering stench of decay.

“What did you catch, wolf?” she whispered, moving slowly toward me. I remained still. “Did you leave me some?” The short hairs on the back of my neck rose as I listened to her voice. “Come here, boy,” she whistled. “Ah, I can smell you, so close now,” she sighed, stepping into the torch light.

My eyes widened at the sight of the glittering fangs in the woman’s mouth, and I stifled the gasp in my throat. Vampire! She stopped, her eyes arrowing at me, where I hid in the shadows. “You!” she hissed. “Where is my pet?”

Concentrating on a ball of fire, I flung my most basic fireball spell at her. It wouldn’t be strong enough to disable her, but that was not my intention. Domina Incendia would be so much more effective, and a better use of my magicka. But I needed time and distance to call my atronach.

As soon as the flames left my fingers, I flung myself to the right, rolling behind some boulders. My eyes closed, I pictured the voluptuous daedra into being. The purple flare and swooshing sound told me my spell was successful, and I kept moving. While Domina Incendia flung fireballs at the Breton vampire, I sheathed my plain katana and pulled Daedra Slayer from my back. Domina Incendia did her job and kept the Breton occupied long enough for me to move up behind her. A stab into the back of her thigh was sufficient to finish off the vampire.

Thank Akatosh Martin used the fire damage sigil stone on this, I thought as the corpse shriveled rapidly into dust. I searched her remains, taking some of the fine ashy powder. A ring was in her purse, a silver circle that glowed with a faint blue gleam. I slipped it on my right ring finger, curious to see what the enchantment was.

The dark cavern flashed into clear vision, only everything was blue. Disoriented, I blinked and looked around, amazed at the clear detail I could see. Night eye. Only problem, I can’t see my shadows. In places like this, I had learned the hard way to maximize the dark places to my advantage. Still, the ring would be useful to reconnoiter new areas before moving into them. I spotted another cavern opening off of this one, and another form moving about near a bright glow that must be a fire. The ring back in my palm, I found my shadows and returned to them, moving on.

In this manner, using a combination of detection spells and the enchanted ring, I was able to locate several vampires moving through the passageways and chambers of the cavern. Domina Incendia and Daedra Slayer kept busy keeping those despicable creatures away from me, taking advantage of the vampire’s intrinsic weakness to fire.

Finally, in the last chamber I searched, I found the whole point of this expedition. The tall Altmer, clad in Elven armor, paced restlessly around a pile of shattered coffins and decaying body parts. After a quick scan of the cavern revealed no other enemies nearby, I straightened up and stepped out of the shadows. Seridur stopped and turned in my direction.

“Hello, Seridur,” I spoke quietly.

“I knew you didn’t have it in you to slay Jenseric,” the Altmer sneered at me, drawing a Dwarven claymore. “So I’ll have to kill you, then find Jenseric and do it myself.”

“You lied to me,” my left fingers twitched, heat building up in them concurrently with my anger. “Jenseric is no vampire.” My blood boiled as I thought of how Seridur had used me to do his dirty work, just as he had framed an innocent man for the death of his prey.

Seridur shrugged nonchalantly, then dashed to my left, faster than my eye could follow. I flung myself forward in time to avoid his lunge at me. My hurled flare missed, but made him flinch. That gave me time to call on Domina Incendia once more. She ran after Seridur, sending more powerful fireballs sailing everywhere. He was very fast, but my atronach managed to keep him away from me long enough for me to slide to the wall.

Risky maneuver, cutting down on my mobility. But I’ve got to cover my back somehow. I can’t let Seridur get behind me. The Altmer was amazingly fast and agile. He managed to duck every one of Domina Incendia’s fire spells, and when she faded away, he turned on me. I waited, Daedra Slayer ready, until he was within blade range, then feinted a stab. When he side-stepped to my left, I turned the stab into a swing.

I’ve only to contact him with the blade - the fire enchantment will slow him down. But he’s got the reach on me. Watch that claymore. It can crush my bones through my mail easy.

The large Dwarven blade blocked my lighter enchanted katana, and Seridur flicked it away easily. The finely wrought steel of my sword sang discordantly as I tried to recover. That claymore rose, then descended towards me in a blur of motion. Leaping away from the wall, I spun into Seridur’s body and kicked him hard on the instep.

His breath hissed, and he staggered back. I moved with him to stay within the arc of his blade, and reversed my grip on the hilt of Daedra Slayer to slice into his thigh. Fire bloomed along the blade, fed on his flesh.

Seridur screamed, and elbowed me away. I landed on my back, sliding into a stalagmite hard enough to knock the breath out of my lungs. A couple of ribs snapped in the middle of my back. Seridur followed, limping from the burning wound in his left thigh, and changed his grip on the claymore so it was pointing down, at my chest.

With a groan, I leveraged myself off the rock spire and slid sideways, backhanding the enchanted blade into his right thigh. As the blade pulled clear I avoided the descending claymore and spun back to stab my weapon into Seridur’s groin. A wrench of the tip of the burning sword managed to sever the large blood vessel in the inner thigh. Fire and blood sprayed out of the wound, the burning liquid splashing across my face. Turning away, I wiped frantically at it. Cacat! Nearly got in my eyes! Almost as quickly as it had burned, the fire went out, leaving my left cheek hot with pain.

As I whirled around, I saw Seridur collapse into a pile of ash, his claymore clattering against the stalagmite before falling to the ground. I stayed on my feet for a few seconds more, before I, too, fell down, shaking as my natural adrenaline drained away.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Oct 7 2010, 05:48 PM

[D.Foxy]

That was an EXCELLENT description of hand to hand fighting, and showed a very good tactical knowledge as well.

Have you been spending time in a dojo?

[SubRosa]

Concerning the Count, also keep in mind that he had his wife murdered by the Dark Brotherhood to get rid of her (the latter is not stated openly, just extremely strongly implied). Nice guy.

so close I could feel the cold death emanating off the spirit
This is a particularly nice turn of phrase. I see Julian does much better against ghosts than Teresa!

An exciting showdown with Seridur. I like how you emphasized his vampiric strength and speed.


nits:
The first vampire Julian faces starts off as a Bosmer, then later you describe her as a Breton. I think she was supposed to be a Breton all the way through?

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Oct 8 2010, 02:33 AM

[mALX]

I loved how you wrote Julian's reaction when she first realized the girl was a vampire - so perfectly natural and believable !!!!

Her initial entry into the cave was intriguingly written - I pictured someone having to do that on an unused cave. Unsure how Seridor got in regularly, maybe the boarded up door was a false front? Anyway, I really liked the thought of her having to break into a cave by removing boards and squeezing in - that detail was easily visualized and a brilliant idea.

You had several of those descriptors (always do in your stories) that really bring the reader in to being able to envision the story as it unfolds - one of the huge pleasures of reading your writing !!!

[treydog]

This one certainly set my heart racing. Your descriptions of spell-casting, combat, and Julian's tactical decisions were incredible.

I do hope she has a Cure Disease potion handy, after getting splashed by Seridur's burning blood....

[mALX]

I do hope she has a Cure Disease potion handy, after getting splashed by Seridur's burning blood....

GAAAAH !!!! I didn't think of that !!!!! ARGH !!!!

[Acadian]

Wonderfully done, Rider! The pacing, feel, tenseness was beautifully woven here to leave me with a pounding heart.

Your specifics were clever and rich as well:
Switching to a dagger while 'hugging' the wolf.
Optimizing fire against the vampires.
Forcing herself to fight the claymore user up very close to negate the very long range of his weapon and in fact, use it against him.
Wonderful use of the flame atronach.
Realizing she needed her enchanted blade to fight the ghost.
And, well, you get the idea - great stuff all wrapped into a beautiful spooky atmosphere.

I loved how you gave the Breton vampire a personality as she searched for her 'pet'.

Julian is truly a force to be reckoned with. You have built her into this so slowly and gradually, that is seems the most natural thing on Nirn. Both Uriel and Martin chose wisely in seeing the potential in Julian.

Again, wonderful!

[Destri Melarg]

Tactically speaking, Julian’s foray through Memorial Cave is a primer on the techniques of the battlemage when fighting vampires. Redguards all over the Alik'r are turning in their graves!

One thing that struck me during the incredibly well-described duel with Seridur is that we are finally seeing Julian in combat at full strength (or at least as close to full strength as she has been since this story began). I can’t imagine that there are many in Cyrodiil who can stand toe to toe with a claymore-swinging boss vampire and live to tell the tale. If the flame atronach she summons is Domina Incendia, does that mean that when Julian gains the skill to cast it, the storm atronach will be Dominus Tempestuous?

I must bow to your superior knowledge of lupine sensory perception. I know from my own experience that hiding from a dog that is actively trying to sniff me out is next to impossible. I must assume that Julian benefits from some insight that is beyond me.

And please tell me that Julian has a cure disease potion!

[haute ecole rider]

@SageRose: Good catch on the Bosmer/Breton. It was supposed to be Breton! Fixed!

@mALX: Thank you - I love the descriptions meself. My favorite stories are the ones that put me there. So I’m just passing it on, so to speak.

@treydog: Not to worry, Julian’s already a step ahead of you.

@Acadian: Yes, that segment was packed with detail! And to think that it was all from memory! I haven’t fired up the game in over nine months - been too focused on writing. But all of my PC’s have done that quest, so it’s very familiar ground to me by now.

@Destri: That claymore wasn’t what scared Julian in that fight, it was Seridur’s speed and agility. I don’t know yet what her next summons would be, but I’m sure she’ll come up with a neat name for it.

It seems like only last week that I started the third thread, and now it’s time to begin the fourth already. Thanks to all of you who have read, and those of you who have commented on Old Habits Die Hard. Your continued enthusiasm and support are much, much appreciated. It’s so nice to know that others see Julian as I see her.

Here is the link to the fourth thread:
Old Habits Die Hard Part Four

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