A Question of Fate Options

[mALX]

Uh oh, I got a chapter behind! I am sorry I missed that chapter, will try and catch up this weekend

[SubRosa]

I feel your pain about lightning and shock, I try to just alternate between those two terms myself, and throw in words like 'sparks', 'blasts', and 'bolts'.

“I can cut you loose inside. Come on!”
Well its about darned time! Sorry, I have done this tutorial sooo many times I just cannot help it.

my ale!
Val is definitely part Nord!



nits:
Ralof had no intentions of saving me from one death just to lead me to another.
Since we cannot see into Ralof's mind, we do not really know that for certain. He could be a Namira cultist planning on eating Val! I suggest you make this seem less absolute, such as "I had no reason to believe Ralof would save me from one death just to lead me to another.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 11 2013, 07:08 PM

[Acadian]

Shock magic. When pondering descriptions, it can be helpful to consider what each of the senses might be able to contribute. I wouldn’t use all this at once, as it is clearly over the top, but here are some example style thoughts: ’The hairs on my casting arm stood out as lightning crackled from the fingers of that hand to streak down the corridor in a blinding display of noise and light. As my powerful bolt struck the armored warrior his body convulsed, limbs flailing involuntarily. Even after he crashed to the ground, residual sparks angrily arced and danced around his smoking corpse as if reluctant to surrender the corridor back into darkness. As the odor of charred flesh that had been fused with mail and plate drifted to me, an unpleasant metallic taste seemed to adhere to my tongue.’

’A silly image of my mother admonishing against such actions came to mind and I actually chuckled out loud.’
What a fabulous observation that clearly conjured an angry mother yelling, “You could put an eye out with that thing!”

Whew! Another wonderfully intense episode. So, Valrimor has his hands free, he’s armored up, has an axe that pains his shoulder to use and is stuck behind locked gates – for the moment.

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

Excellent suggestions and thanks to you two for opening my eyes! I couldn't see the forest for the trees (no Bosmer pun intended) .

[McBadgere]

D'you know...While I admit that I'm easily pleased and pretty much always awestruck when it comes to other writers...The ease with which you're rendering this whole opening - what is essentially an - interactive FMV, is stunning...I applaud you...*Applauds*...See... ...

I'm really liking Valrimor...Brilliant and funny character...

Looking forward to more...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Darkness Eternal]

Hello! Welcome to the forums! Quite the tale we have here. I'll be a latest reader!

Prologue: You've given us some information on our protagonist and shared some of his history. Sad that he never met his father, and I do find myself wondering what could've happened to him. So, he was a mercenary for hire? A good job, depending on the client

Chapter 1: The all too familiar setting. The walk to the headman's axe. I did like his little quip about elfs and elves, he's certainly a comical fellow at times. What I like here is that you took the time and effort to explain the quest we know through his eyes, and it offered so much more and as mALX said, gave it life.

Chapter II: Run Val run! An intense scene, this one, and action-packed.

He tried to lift the woman, but most of the flesh on her legs slid away from the bone.

This was an intense image to picture, and I envisioned it as I read it along. Very nice!

Chapter III: Valrimor makes it to the keep, relieves a dead man from his armor and uses an axe, much to his chagrin. Perhaps now his Nordic side can get use to using such a weapon? Speaking of which, I do like the fact that he's a Nord/Bosmer hybrid. Very unique and he certainly looks that way in the image. Now, I am eager to see his fighting skills put to test, though it might take more than a few human enemies . . .

[mALX]

“Do you think you could cut - ”

“Move!” he shouted and gave me a shove.

Oh yeah Ralof, don’t take the second to ensure I can defend myself if needed, ROFL! The first time I played, I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t activate anything - then Hadvar cut my bindings and I suddenly realized what the issue was, lol.

Suddenly, the wall burst inward, followed by the fanged face of the dragon! A roaring gout of flame issued from the beast, immediately incinerating the Stormcloak and blasting all the flesh away from his bones. He didn’t even have time to scream. His charred skeleton shattered against the steps. I closed my eyes and shuddered, swallowing back a little bile as I did so. I

This was an amazing imagery, very visual and well done! Once again you have brought alive a scene we all know by heart, and managed to get across your characters personality through the chaos of the dragon attack. That is extremely hard to do, amazing write!


NEXT:

Hadvar ran with his sword drawn. A silly image of my mother admonishing against such actions came to mind and I actually chuckled out loud.

LOVED this little detail! Your main character’s personality comes through strongly in every chapter, regardless of what is going on - I LOVE that. I feel I’m getting to know him more with each chapter, his personality and ideals come through amazingly well!

My bow, my tent, my ale! They were all likely to be ashes by now.

SPEW! Nice touch of humor in that tense situation! Awesome Write, all of this!


*

[jack cloudy]

I like how the story mixes serious with a downright comical protagonist. On the one hand we have an execution and a dragon attack, and on the other we have a BOSMER, AND PROUD OF IT! Who at times seems to be concerned with everything except his incoming doom.


And like mALX, I laughed whenever he tried to get someone to let him use his hands again.


The dragon attack was downright vicious with the way you described people being torched left and right. I admit I cringed when the one guy in the tower was reduced to ash and the woman below died from losing her legs. At times, my imagination is a bit too strong.


Two details I noticed. First, I thought that Hamir is the kid who wants to see the soldiers but gets sent inside. Having him as Hadvar's kid is no big deal though. I mean, they all look the same anyway.

The other is when rude and angry Stormcloak man gets executed. I always thought it was a Stormcloak who yelled about the Imperial bastards. On the other hand, having a random townsperson do it helps sell the chasm of the civil war again. No city is clearly on one side or the other, aside from the uniforms of the local troops and the Jarl. That's what makes it a civil war.

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

Wow. We have new readers! Thanks to you all for joining in and taking the time to read and comment on Valrimor's tale.

@SubRosa - Great call on your well appreciated nit. The devil is in the details, and that was good one. And yes, Val's Nordic half does love his ale!

@Acadian - Thanks again for the shock spell suggestions. Very helpful. Fears of eye loss while running with sharp objects...what mother hasn't fretted over this? Good thing Hadvar didn't have a Red Ryder BB gun!

@McBadgere - I am glad you are enjoying my take on the opening tutorial. A neurotic part of me worries about readers saying under their breath, "It's a tutorial...three chapters already?...get to the meat already!" But it is a perfect setting to develop Valrimor, so I'm running with it.

@Darkness Eternal - Thanks for joining in. Val's father is indeed a mystery to him, so he doesn't know what the man actually did for a living. This will come out in future writes (I'll not give up more than that ). Val's fighting skills shall soon be evident...

@mALX - Welcome back! I laughed out loud when you told of not being able to activate anything. The exact same thing happened to me! Many have commented on the incineration scene and the wounded soldier scene. I was really worried that they may have been too "over the top" with horrific descriptions. I am relieved that this doesn't seem to be the case. I was trying hard to convey how devestating an attack by such a beast would really be, something the game kind of glosses over.

@jack cloudy - Thanks for joining in as well. Val's thinking process is a bit twisted at times, much like his author's. He has a tendency to use sarcasm and humor as a defense mechanism against fear. Regarding the details - In the game, it is entirely likely that Haming is not Hadvar's son, and it is entirely likely that "Imperial bastards" was yelled by a Stormcloak. I wrote the way I did to suit the way I wanted the story to flow. I will confess early here that I do intend to change actual game facts however I may see fit to meet my ends. I was glad that you were ok with both instances, but rest assurred, there will be others.

I want to thank all of you for your interest, comments, and critiques. They are most appreciated!

Now, the next installment...when we left, Ralof and Val were at an impasse in the vestibule of the keep...

Chapter 4 – In the Bowels of Helgen Keep

17th Last Seed, 4E201 - Continued

The sound of activity echoed in the hallway. Footfalls and clanking armor found our ears well before a familiar female voice ordered a soldier to get the gate open. By then, Ralof and I had secluded ourselves in the shadows on either side of the gateway, crouched and prepared to strike with our axes. Ralof gave me hand signals, raising one finger then pointing it at me, then raising two fingers and pointing to himself. It was a simple plan. The first through the gate would be mine, and the second, his. I would wait until both Imperials were all the way into the room before making my move, insuring that Ralof could cut off any retreat by the second.

It happened quickly. As soon as the second Imperial entered the room, I jumped out of the shadows and slashed into the sword shoulder of my target. Due to my injury, the blow was not as effective as it could have been. It glanced off his armor and did little more than alert him to my presence. The Imperial yelled and spun to face me, pulling his sword back for a thrust. He never had the time to complete his move before my axe reversed course and laid his throat open. He dropped his sword and grasped the wound with his hands while falling to his knees. My axe looped back again to the top of his head, splitting the leather helmet and his skull. He was dead before he finished hitting the floor. Ralof had just as quickly disposed of his opponent. It was the same female Captain that had ordered us to our deaths before a dragon had flown out of myth.

What an odd twist of fate.

Ralof searched the Captain’s body while I searched her aide and cursed the pain coursing through my arm. It was Ralof that met with success, and he walked to the opposite gate that was still closed. The sound of tumblers falling into place and a slightly squeaky hinge proclaimed success. There was a thunderous crash somewhere on a floor above us, declaring the keep was no longer undamaged.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s get out of here before the dragon brings the whole tower down on our heads.”

I did not need to be told twice. We sprinted through the passage and down a set of stairs. When we reached the next level and turned a corner, we narrowly averted a bone-crushing death as a large section of the stone ceiling crashed to the floor in front of us. The roar of the dragon punctuated our near demise as a grim reminder of our dilemma.

“Damn, that dragon doesn’t give up easy,” said Ralof.

“Did you expect it to?” I retorted sarcastically. Ralof started to reply when we both heard voices coming from just beyond the only doorway available to us.

“Grab everything important and let’s move!” one voice commanded, then added, “The dragon is burning everything to the ground.”

Both of us drew our axes and Ralof went through the door first. It was a fairly well lit and apparently well stocked storeroom. Ralof never slowed down, sprinting to the next door and attacking the first Imperial he saw. Within seconds, we had sent two more Imperials to meet their makers.

“I’ll guard the door. Check the room for potions and supplies. We’ll need provisions once we’re out of here,” Ralof said.

My shoulder was throbbing with pain, so the first thing I did was discard my axe and procure a sword belt from one of the dead Imperials. I would need to add a notch to the belt, but that would come later. After a quick but thorough search, I was able to find several vials of healing potion, some bread and a couple bottles of wine, some rabbit meat, and a few apples. My shoulder barked again as I raised a wine bottle and drank deeply.

Oh Gods yes, that’s good…

Then I opened a vial of healing potion and downed that as well. I relished the instant warmth and soothing exhilaration of its healing powers. With a large grin, I raised the wine bottle to show Ralof and tossed a vial of potion to him. After placing all of the provisions into an empty burlap sack I had found, I joined Ralof at the door.

“Ready?” he asked.

“No, I would rather stay here and finish this wine,” I replied, “but lead on sir.” I replied with a flourishing gesture toward the door.

Ralof grinned and proceeded through the door, down another passageway to another descending set of stairs. He was a few paces ahead of me when suddenly he yelled, “Troll’s blood! It’s a torture chamber!” and ran ahead, drawing out his axe.

By the time I arrived, he and another Stormcloak were standing over yet two more Imperials that would be late for supper. I surveyed the room for any other possible assailants, and then resheathed my sword. As I looked around, I realized that there was far more blood than there should have been from the recent skirmish.

“Was Jarl Ulfric with you?” Ralof was asking the other Stormcloak.

“No,” she replied, “I haven’t seen him since the dragon showed up.”

Then a backpack on a small table caught my eye. I went over and opened it. Lock picks and a small slim dagger! The picks went immediately to my breast pocket, the dagger to my belt. I added the burlap bag to the backpack and slung the straps over my shoulders. Ralof had started searching the chamber also. The woman kept a watchful eye on both exits.

“Wait a second. It looks like there is something in this cage,” Ralof said as he walked over and checked the cage door. “There is a dead prisoner in here, and coins on the floor near him, but the cage is locked. Can you pick this Valrimor?”

Nodding and grinning, I pulled a pick from my pocket and walked over to the door. A few pokes with the pick and a twist of the dagger took mere seconds to pop the lock. I looked at Ralof as I shoved lightly on the cage door with my finger, and said, “Child’s play.”

The door swung in and I quickly rifled through the dead man’s pockets. I was rewarded with a coin purse. I grabbed the loose coins from the floor and then saw the book. It was a mage’s spell tome with a one word title, Sparks. I recognized it immediately for what it was and recoiled. A childhood memory flooded through me.

"I didn't mean to Ma!" cried a blond Bosmer child...

I closed my eyes and shook my head to clear the memory, then left the book where it lay when I exited the cage.

“I got it all,” I said to the others, “let’s keep moving.”

EDIT - Fixed some punctuation issues, added date, changed some wording.

This post has been edited by ThatSkyrimGuy: May 21 2013, 12:36 PM

[mALX]

I would need to add a notch to the belt

Your main character keeps me in stitches with his inner dialogue, between his dry humor and absolute common sense I very much like him already!

I relished the instant warmth and soothing exhilaration of its healing powers.

I loved this whole paragraph, but pulled this sentence out - really nice, describing the feeling of the healing potion as it works! Loved this whole section!

Valrimor is a very endearing character, his personality shines in this chapter; as well as throughout the story so far. Very much liking this story!

The memory that came with the book of magic spells (“Spark”) - what a huge detail that was to add! Anyone else may have grabbed it to sell, etc. - this makes Valrimor unique, really loved that part!

Awesome Write!

[SubRosa]

Into the bowels we go. Does that make Val and Ralof the equivalent of... nevermind.

My shoulder barked again as I raised a wine bottle and drank deeply.
Methinks Val would fit in nicely with the Bravil Fighters Guild...

No, I would rather stay here and finish this wine,” I replied, “but lead on sir.”
I see Val still has his now characteristic sarcasm. Seriously though, little things like this help give him definition and a unique voice.

"I didn't mean to Ma!" cried a blond Bosmer child...
This was a nice touch. I wonder what he blew up with a lightning spell when he was little?

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 16 2013, 07:40 PM

[McBadgere]

“Ready?”

“No, I would rather stay here and finish this wine,but lead on sir.” I replied.

...

I liked that... ...

Brilliant episode...

Handy with a lockpick then?... ...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Grits]

I’m really enjoying Valrimor’s sarcastic humor as he survives the dragon attack. It’s a great way for him to keep the horror of the situation at bay so he can keep moving forward.

The date at the top of each post is a great idea. Even when he wouldn’t actually write Continued, the journal entry is presented over multiple posts and is indeed continued from the last one.

I particularly loved Ralof’s hand signals before the scuffle with the Imperials. That was a great touch. I also loved that Val picked up the backpack and left the spell tome. Those details make me forget the hundred times I’ve gone through Helgen because I’m right there focused on Val experiencing it for the first time through his eyes.

I may drop behind occasionally (RL, you know how it goes), but I’m always looking forward to this story!

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

Thanks to mALX, SubRosa, McBadgere and Grits for your kind comments. Here is some weekend reading for you. It will be difficult, but resist the temptation to add "...oh my!" to the chapter title. I hope you enjoy...

Chapter 5 – Imperials, and Spiders, and Bears

17th Last Seed, 4E201 - Continued

The three of us left the torture chamber and entered what appeared to be the cell block of the dungeon. The barred and gated walls of several cells faced the walkway. As we passed these, I noticed a small leather bag near a skeleton in one cell. I had heard that the Nords in Skyrim imprisoned thieves with their loot as an irony to show the uselessness of theft.

“Hold up,” I said, and went to work on the lock. This one popped even easier than the first. I rushed in and grabbed the bag, grinning at the sound of clinking coins. In seconds, I was back with the others.

“Do I need to worry about being robbed in my sleep with you around?” Ralof asked me with a raised eyebrow.

“If you had anything worth stealing, you would,” I replied with a smile.

Ralof chuckled and we pressed on. Another stair at the end of the passage led us downward yet again. The stench of rotted flesh assaulted our nostrils. We entered another room that was even more gruesome than the torture chamber. Suspended cages, with corpses in various stages of decay ranging from fresh to skeletal, hung all around the room. We crossed the chamber quickly, and then paused at the crude entrance to a tunnel. The passage ahead was lit by braziers and torches.

“I wonder if there are more Imperials, or worse, this far down,” said the female Stormcloak.

“We’ll know soon enough. Let’s keep moving though. The sooner were through this, the better,” I replied, looking at the narrow confines of the route before us.

Ralof entered the tunnel and we followed. There was no masonry work here. This passage had been hewn from solid stone. It was so narrow that I felt as though the walls were closing in on us. I urged Ralof to pick up the pace. After rounding a few bends, Ralof raised his hand as a signal to stop. Voices carried up the passageway.

“Orders are to wait here until General Tullius arrives,” one voice commanded.

“I’m not waiting to be killed by a dragon! We need to pull back!” said another.

I turned and whispered to the woman behind me, “Does that answer your question sufficiently, ma’am?”

“On three...ready?” Ralof whispered while getting his axe ready, and then he yelled, “THREE!” and ran into the room. We followed and joined the battle. There were five Imperial soldiers against the three of us. The end result was the same as our previous skirmishes, except for one disturbing detail. The female Stormcloak had been slain. Ralof was staring down at her.

“Did you know her well?” I asked.

“No, she was a new recruit,” he replied. “I don’t even know her name.”

“I’m sorry Ralof,” I said. It was the best I had to offer at the moment, because my mind was elsewhere. I looked around the chamber for a moment and then spotted what I was seeking.

YES! Here we go…

I relieved an Imperial archer of his long bow and quiver. Looking at the other dead Imperials, I found two more quivers. Now I was properly armed with a bow and a couple dozen arrows. None of it was of great quality, but they were much more suited to my talents than this blade. I sat on a rock and pulled the wine bottle from my pack. I managed three healthy pulls while Ralof finished paying his last respects to his fallen comrade. Before putting the cork back in, I offered the bottle Ralof’s way while suppressing a belch. He declined. I shrugged, put everything away, and stood up.

More for me…

We moved on to the next exit, Ralof in the lead. It was a low, arched passage that ended at a raised drawbridge. Fortunately, the lever to lower the bridge was on our side. I gave it a pull and the bridge lowered into place. Ralof crossed and I followed just in time the have it smashed to splinters right on my heels. The dragon announced its culpability with a distant roar. There would be no turning back now. The drawbridge landing was a masonry platform with a set of stairs leading into a larger natural cavern. A stream babbled its way through to the other end of the cave. Water needs to find a way out, so a stream made as good a guide as any. We pressed on.

After a time, the stream continued through a space that would not allow us to follow it further. A tunnel branched off to the right. Whether or not this was a good thing remained to be seen, as a foul stench emanated from the entrance. I nocked an arrow and Ralof drew out his axe. The odor grew as we ventured deeper into the tunnel, and pale sticky masses eventually began to coalesce into more intricate webs. We looked at each other knowingly.

There would be spiders ahead.

We entered an expanded area of the cave that had walls covered with webs. We did not have time to admire the handiwork, for as soon as we entered, spiders dropped from the ceiling as if on cue. I bounded to the nearest high ground and dispatched three arrows, dropping three spiders in their tracks while Ralof took care of the other two. I shuddered. I hated spiders. Ralof actually vocalized his shared opinion. He claimed they had too many eyes. The arachnids did hold one treasure though. I asked Ralof to wait while I knelt and opened the backpack. There was just a little wine left in the bottle. I uncorked it and finished it off.

“You asked me to wait so that you could have another drink of wine?”

“No,” …burp… “that was just a binus…um…bonus. I needed the bottle.”

I went to each spider and milked as much venom as each would provide into the wine bottle. I corked my new poison and told Ralof that I was ready now. We could still hear the stream, so we followed that sound. Every now and then, it would find its way back into the caverns and passages we occupied. Ralof suddenly came to a halt so abruptly that I walked right into his back.

“What the…?”

Ralof was pointing ahead and said, “There is a bear over there. See her? She’s slee-”

“I got this,” I assured him, patting his shoulder before I crept closer to the bear.

I nocked an arrow and raised it, drawing the bowstring back to my ear. I was having difficulty aiming. My arrowhead seemed to wander back and forth. I stopped what I was doing and took the time to soak the arrowhead in spider venom, just in case my slightly intoxicated aim prevented a clean kill shot. It was probably a good thing too, because my arrow hit her in the hind quarters. However, the poison did its job nicely. She had time to let out a growl and even began to charge toward us before she dropped stone dead in her tracks. An old friend of mine had once told me, “Poison is a drunken archer’s best friend.” I was far from “drunk”, by my standards. But it was handy stuff, that frostbite venom.

“HA!” I cheered with a leap into the air, and then went into a deep, flourished bow.

Ralof just looked at me, shook his head and said, “No more wine for you!” as he walked by. I chuckled and followed. Normally, I would harvest the bear first, and properly dispose of its carcass. Normally didn’t apply to right now.

The passageway began to get lighter. I could smell and feel fresher air buffeting my face. And suddenly, there it was. Daylight was ahead. We walked out into brilliant sunshine and the ever so welcome aroma of coniferous forest. The splendor was briefly broken by the howl of the dragon, in flight and moving away to the north. I laid down right there, looked at the sky, and laughed heartily.

EDIT - Picked nits. Thanks to Acadian for the suggestion of Googling the "How to". Extremely helpful! Added date.

This post has been edited by ThatSkyrimGuy: May 21 2013, 12:38 PM

[Grits]

It will be difficult, but resist the temptation to add "...oh my!" to the chapter title.

I’m still getting over “Innnnnto the Bowels…” from the last one!

“On three...ready?” Ralof whispered while getting his axe ready, and then he yelled, “THREE!” and ran into the room.
Nords.

I love how you explained the presence of treasure on the dead prisoners.

I laid down right there, looked at the sky, and laughed heartily.
Yay, he’s free! I’m looking forward to finding out what he’s going to do now.

[Acadian]

I follow numerous stories and quite appreciate a tiny ‘In our last episode. . . .’ summary of a sentence or so to get snapped right in as I start to read a new episode. I noted that you sort of did this at the beginning of Chapter 4 and it was particularly helpful to me in this case as I have ‘offline’ for about a week. I encourage to you to fully adopt and maintain this wonderful courtesy for your readers. You’ll notice that several writers do so in their own fiction threads.

Let me also say how much I appreciate (as I’m sure mALX and SubRosa do) your reading and commenting on each or our sagas in the ‘Commentasaurus’ thread. It is gratifying to hear your wonderfully welcome observations!

‘The sound of tumblers falling into place and a slightly squeaky hinge proclaimed success. There was a thunderous crash somewhere on a floor above us, proclaiming the keep was no longer undamaged.’ -- I quote this for two reasons. Firstly, I love your use of sound to obliquely, but clearly tell us, what is happening here – wonderfully done! Secondly, the word ‘proclaim’ is rather distinctive – enough so that when used twice in close proximity it detracts from the stellar quality of this passage. Alternatives for one of the ‘proclaim’ uses might be variations of announce, attest or perhaps declare.

We don’t see a lot of axe fighting descriptions in fanfics here and I really liked your description of Valrimor’s use of one that favored finesse and momentum over brute strength.

And we see Val is quite the skilled thief with a lockpick. Woot! Wine, a bow and plenty of arrows! What else could a wood elven rogue need?

’The dragon announced its culpability with a distant roar.’ – - Again, I love your use of sound to enrich your descriptions!

‘I hated spiders. Ralof actually vocalized his shared opinion.’ – - Val and Ralof have plenty of company among the various characters here at Chorrol! How clever to 'milk' them for poison.

“Poison is a drunken archer’s best friend.” – -

This story continues to be simply a delight to read!


Nits:
You are a bit inconsistent regarding punctuating your dialogue. I recommend Googling ‘dialogue punctuation’, which can shine plenty of light on this rather complex art. Here are a few selected examples from Chapter 4 regarding comma vs period use:
“Damn, that dragon doesn’t give up easy.” said Ralof.’ -- The period after ‘easy’ should be a comma.
“I got it all,” I said to the others, “let’s keep moving.” -- This passage is perfect. The speech tag is effectively inserted in the middle of a sentence of dialogue.
“No.” she replied, “I haven’t seen him since the dragon showed up.” –- The period after ‘No’ should be a comma since you are linking the speech tag to that clause (by not capitalizing ‘she’). Use of a comma or period after ‘replied’ depends on your intent. You could keep the comma after ‘replied’ if you intend the entire passage to be one sentence of dialogue. On the other hand, if you intend the last clause to be a new sentence or statement, you would precede it by a period. Confusing, eh? It was our own SubRosa that really helped me get a handle on dialogue punctuation and, as I implied above, I found that doing some internet research on the subject proved very helpful.

’Looking that the other dead Imperials, I found two more quivers.’ – - (From Chapter 5) I suspect you wanted ‘at’ instead of ‘that’.

[mALX]

This last chapter has to be my favorite so far, I could have quoted the whole thing! From Valrimor'd drinking affecting his aim, Ralof's reactions to it, Valrimor's inner dialogue, the "Nord Rush" into battle, using the wine bottle to hold the spider venom - this chapter was AWESOME from beginning to end! A couple edits were missed, but the content was so stunning I didn't care, LOVED this chapter! Totally Awesome Write!

I love your main character's personality a LOT, and you are more than making the familiar tutorial come to life, I am loving this story!




This post has been edited by mALX: May 19 2013, 07:04 PM

[SubRosa]

“If you had anything worth stealing, you would.”
Now Ralof is going to hide the Honningbrew when Val is around!

I loved Ralof's Nordic math in the countdown to three as well!

I agree with Ralof and Val about the spiders. Euch! Too many legs as well. Nothing needs that many legs.

That was a clever use of the wine bottle by Val. I just hope that in his sauced state he does not forget that there is spider venom in there now rather than wine!

Awww, he killed the bear. I was expecting him to use the Bosmer Command Animals power to make the bear an ally.


nits:
“Orders are to wait here until General Tullius arrives{.}” one voice commanded.
That period ought to be a comma, as Acadian noted about a few other sentences. I think the easiest way to understand punctuation of speech is to just pretend the parenthesis are not there. So look at the above as: Orders are to wait here until General Tullius arrives, one voice commanded.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 19 2013, 07:22 PM

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

Thanks for following the story and for the great comments.

@ Grits - I could never figure out why loot would be lying next to an imprisoned skeleton, so I had to try for something plausable. Thanks for the comment.

@ Acadian - I will be adding a "What has come before..." sentence or two before each new installment. But I really want to thank you for the punctuation advice. I found some very helpful information. At some point, I'll go back and fix everything to date, but future posts should be correct. You help has been invaluable...thanks again.

@ mALX - Thanks and I am glad you have enjoyed this rendition of the tutorial. I hope that future installments can measure up. Thanks again for your very kind words.

@ SubRosa - I considered using the Command Animal ability, but knowing that it was the last enemy they would face, Val would have had to kill it eventually anyway when the spell wore off. In game, I find that I rarely use that ability. Perhaps I should more often. Thanks!

Author's Note - From time to time, I will be posting interludes to provide backstory information. They will be in 3rd person format instead of narrated by Val. Please note the dates on these for reference. Actually, this is why I started putting dates on all of the previous posts, and on future ones as well. This next post is one of those interludes. I do hope you all enjoy it.

Interlude 1

4th First Seed, 4E149

Erik sat staring at his flagon of ale. It was his fifth one and the effects were on the verge of causing two flagons to appear where there should be only one. His friend Jonsin was chatting up a particularly attractive she-elf. She was likely Bosmer, based on her size and skin tone. Jon was doing everything he could to convince the elf to come up to the room that he and Erik had rented for the night, while she seemed to be trying to milk him for every possible drink that the inn had to offer. At the moment, her goal was a shot of Cyrodiilic brandy. Jon obliged, and then asked Erik if he wanted one too. Erik declined and took another swig of ale, thinking Jon should really slow down. He had put down twice as many beverages as Erik, and they both had to leave early in the morning. The journey to Bruma would be long enough without a dose of muzziness to make it miserable as well.

The bard that The Merchant’s Inn had hired for this evening’s entertainment left much to be desired. He was playing a lute that was sorely in need of tuning. The crowd did not care. In fact, based on the empty kettle that was supposed to hold tips from the patrons, the crowd didn’t even know he was there. They were too busy gambling or fighting or drinking themselves blind. Imperial City, and the entire Empire for that matter, had changed since the end of the Septim line. It was as if all reason had left mankind and merkind alike. Lawlessness ran rampant in the streets and taverns. The Imperial Legion was spread thin, preparing for a possible attack from the Aldmeri. The City Guards, if one could call them that with a straight face, were second rate soldiers that were corrupt much more often than not. They would turn a blind eye toward thievery and thuggery, as long as you had the coin to buy them.

“Put me down!” said a female voice.

Erik looked up and saw that Jon was carrying the she-elf over his shoulder. She was beating on his back and kicking her legs. He couldn’t tell if her protests were real or feigned from where he sat. So Erik just rolled his eyes and ordered another brew, since it was likely that he should stay away from the room for a while. The bard finished his tune, thanking an audience that failed to acknowledge his existence. He picked up a drum and started tamping out an erratic beat that had no timing at all. Someone in the crowd yelled for him to stop playing, but the bard ignored it and kept trying to find a beat. That was when a very large man walked over to the would-be entertainer, picked up his lute, and smashed it across the back of the bard’s head. The poor fellow collapsed like a bundle of rags. This action elicited an immense brawl at that end of the bar. Erik chose to leave rather than get caught up in this miniature riot. He rose and went upstairs.

When Erik approached the door to their room, he could hear muffled yelling. Occasionally, the words “stop it” and “no” were mixed in. He entered to find Jon on top of the she-elf; having his way with her while she struggled to get out from under him and tried to scream through the palm of his hand. Her eyes were wide with terror, and it was painfully obvious that she was not a willing participant.

“What in the Gods names are you doing, Jon?” Erik yelled.

Jonsin looked over his shoulder with a sweaty grin and said, “You should have come up with me. Now you’ll have to wait your turn.”

Horrified and enraged at the same time, Erik grabbed his friend and violently pulled him off of the elf. Jonsin lost his balance and toppled backward when he tried to stand with his pants around his ankles. His head hit the corner of a dresser on his way down and he did not move at all after that. A pool of blood began forming behind his head.

Erik turned his attention to the elf. She was trying to cover herself with the torn remnants of her dress, her breath coming in short, sharp sobs. He walked toward her to help, but she recoiled.

“Get away from me!” she rasped, with a look that conveyed fear, anger, and shame at the same time.

“I just want to help you. I think Jon is dead. We have to get out of here. I don’t have enough money to bribe a City Guard.”

She looked at Jonsin’s body, then back at Erik. She seemed to be weighing her options. Then her eyes went wide again.

“Stendarr help me! The guards might think I am a…a…a brothel girl! They might even think I killed him!” she exclaimed.

Erik opened the dresser. He grabbed a shirt and some pants and tossed them to the elf.
“Get dressed, quickly,” he said, “You can come with me. We’ll get out of here and I’ll help you get somewhere safe. What’s your name?”

“My name is Ellinar.”

* * *

2nd Evening Star, 4E149

Erik looked forward to every visit. Elli had adjusted well to living in Bruma, given the circumstances of her arrival, and her condition. She always had a warm embrace for him when he arrived. If only he could tell her how much his heart sang when she squeezed him that way. He always brought her a bouquet of wildflowers just so he could see that beautiful smile of hers. And of course, he always brought her enough money to live on until his next visit. But this visit was special. During this visit, he would stay with her until her child was born.

Evening Star was a bitterly cold month in Bruma. The journey into the Jeralls was particularly difficult this time, due to the unusual amount of snow this year. The trip out would be equally as difficult, but he would not be leaving as quickly as normal. Perhaps the passes will have thawed out some by the time he left. Snow was beginning to fall again as he prepared to knock on the door to Elli’s house. Suddenly, he heard a scream from inside. Without hesitating, he dropped his customary bouquet while drawing his sword and rushed inside.

Elli was lying on the bed, covered with sweat and clenching the bed sheets in her fists. Her head and back were propped up by several pillows. Her knees were elevated, and there was a woman sitting on a stool at the end of the bed.

“One more push should do it Elli. You’re doing fine,” the woman said.

Elli gave that final push, trying to sit up and forcing another howl through gritted teeth. She hadn’t even noticed that Erik was standing there. He sheathed his sword and held his breath, watching and waiting for the new life to emerge. The wait was short and he heard a tiny cough before the baby began crying. The woman at the end of the bed smiled broadly and exclaimed, “It’s a boy!”

Later that evening, Erik and Elli sat together on the bed. She held the sleeping baby in her arms, swaddled in a wool blanket. Erik was convinced that she had never been more beautiful. Elli caught him staring at her and blushed, then smiled and said, “What?”

“It’s just amazing. I think motherhood becomes you. You are positively glowing,” he replied, returning her smile. “Do you have a name picked out for him?”

She sighed, looking off into an unknown distant place. It was often customary for a first born son to have some derivation of his father’s name. Erik realized that this thought caused Elli pain, and he suddenly wished that he hadn’t asked the question. Then she turned and gave Erik a very serious look.

“Where was…he…from?” she asked.

“Um…Skyrim. Riften, I think,” Erik replied.

She stared off into space again, then blinked and said, “I am going to name him Valrimor, for Valenwood and Skyrim. That is the only acknowledgement I shall give his father, may he rot in Oblivion.”

Erik put his arm around Elli and said, “I think you have done your son justice with that name. It certainly gives more respect to his father than the man deserves.”

Elli turned to Erik and looked up into his eyes, their noses almost touching. She seemed to look deep into Erik’s soul.

“I want you to be his father,” she said, and kissed him.

* * *

22nd Sun’s Dawn, 4E152

Valrimor was sitting on the floor, stacking some small blocks of wood. Elli was watching Erik load a backpack with supplies.

“Must you go? You could stay, you know. Hanreid is looking for help over at Hammer and Axe,” said Elli, pleading her case.

“You know I must go. Working as a bodyguard, I can bring home three times what I could hope to earn in a month as a blacksmith’s apprentice. I will be back in three weeks,” Erik replied.

Valrimor pulled himself up at the corner of the bed and stood on wobbly legs, looking at the two of them. His grey eyes and starkly blond hair gave testimony to his Nordic blood, and at the same time, contradicted his swept back and pointed ears. Suddenly, he said, “Da-da.”

“See?” Elli said, “Val wants you to stay too,” and then she gave that smile that always melted Erik’s heart and batted her eyelashes.

“My love, please don’t make this harder than it need be.”

Erik bent over and picked Valrimor up. He gave the child a hug and kissed him on the cheek.

“You take care of your mother until I get back, little one,” Erik told the boy. Then he placed the child on the bed, hugged and kissed his wife, and promised to return in three weeks.

EDIT - Fixed a math mistake. Fixed a nit.

This post has been edited by ThatSkyrimGuy: May 23 2013, 10:52 PM

[McBadgere]

Oh aye, I try to catch up and ye post another bit!!... ...Well, I'll have to get back to you on that one... ...

Loved the run through the last section of the Helgen bit...

Obviously happier with a bow and arrow than the axe...Fair dues...

Loved the spiders section and then the need for the bottle sorted with much gusto... ...Like the excellent Subrosa said, let's hope he doesn't forget... ...

And then we're off and running towards destiny...*Gazes off into distance*...And when I say we I mean Val is... ...

Brilliant stuff...

Love it!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

I'll get to yer interludes in good order, sir... ...