Thrain

dude, i bow down before your greatness. you are indeed a master compared to the rest of those comedy apprentices.

i loved it man, absolute quality.

well bugger me with a yardstick, she's only gone and finished it. and it ain't half-bad either

honestly, this is a bloody good story jol. i've said before i like you writing style and though i believe you cannot be perfect due to the subjective nature of the fom. anyway i'm babbling.

in reference to that latest (and last ) chapter, i particularly like the way the epilogue is written. a nice twist to the canon which, to be honest, is refreshing. it also drove home Irenicus' single-mindedness and his complete lack of compassion which, although touched upon in the game, is not fully explored elsewhere. It also gives a good insight into Bodhi's bloodlust and the general eroticism that you gave vampirism earlier (so continuity, very nice ). Finally, i found myself feeling sorry for Valen. whether you intended to make her the tragic figure or not i felt that, even though she is a vampire (ergo inherently evil) she found love in a man who ends up being a hero (not strictly canonical but something which certainly exists in Yoshi's character), she loses the direction in her life when she makes the decision not to follow Bodhi to Athkatla, primarily because she knows the party will have to go there to retrieve Imoen's soul if they don't catch Bodhi in Underdark.

basically jolyth, my dear, this is a bloody good read and i thouroughly enjoyed it

now if only cry of the moon 2 could be updated, i wouldn't have to get back to the shambles that is my real life *hint*

coming along nicely.

i would say you should go on holiday more often, but then youd keep us waiting more so long live inspiration!

loved the latest chapters jol, almost trembling with anticipation

Bethal checked her coin purse to see if she had enough money to drown herself in cheapest, dirtiest ale The Gallows had to offer. She had only been drunk twice, when Laith had stolen the innkeeper's keg and all the village's children got very merry together. Still, she presumed getting drunk was what adventurers did; at least the bards said that's what they did.

The jingle of the few coppers in her purse hid the rustle of the leaves that she should have heard behind her. But then, with the rain and her incessant mumbling to herself, Bethal wouldn't have heard a pitched battle raging around her. The path in front of her was well worn and she could make out cart tracks, which meant she definately was on the right road. It was only because she was looking down that she noticed the other tracks on the road. She had often hunted with Laith and his brothers and knew that the depressions in the ground below her were from men running. The blurred edges of the tracks, despite the mud that was sludging beneath her feet, showed her that the men were twisting and turning, like they were being chased. She straightened up and loosed her bow while hooking the light purse onto her belt. Slowly turning in her jerkin she tried to block out the rain as she listened for any movement in the nearby trees. Notching an arrow she fired one into the nearest bush to try and flush out any would-be assailants. As the shaft flew Bethal could hear the slight whistle of the air on the polished wood, but it caused no disturbance as it found its mark on a trunk above the leafy greenary. She sighed and cursed herself for being so eager to see adventure everywhere instead of finding a warm place to camp down for the night. Trudging over to the trees to retrieve her arrow (which she had paid good money for, after all, and if it wasn't going to bleed any monsters she certainly wasn't leaving it behind), Bethal pondered whether to find a group to join up with. Adventurers always had companions, and maybe she could make a name for herself and form her own group, like Drizzt or Mazzy Fentan.

When the squirrel dived from its hiding place in the bush to sprint up the tree, Bethal shrieked and jumped in the air. Any thoughts of adventure were driven from her head as the shock of seeing the creature rush in front of her set in so quickly. When she had recovered and her heart stopped pounding, she giggled that she would be so frightened at such a harmless animal. The only thing that stopped her from responding to the girlish instincts of cooing over it and petting it was the thumping rain which was now removing any sign of tracks from the path. It drove her on, but the adreneline from her encounter lifted her heart and she began to sing...