[Timbowolf]

Alright everyone; emulating dragon_god I have decided to lay out a few things right here in my first post. This is really just so everyone is clear on a few things, though I'm probably preaching to the choir.

1. The Inheritance Cycle, which my book is a fanfiction of, is the property of Christopher Paolini, and that includes characters, locations, plot, etc. I am using these in a harmless way so there are no copyright problems. Besides being viewed for free as entertainment this book will not see any kind of publication and be sold for money.

2. However, this is a work that is written by me, and I hereby copyright it, and so taking any part of it and claiming it as your own is plagiarism. If you want to quote my book just let me know and be sure that you make it clear that is is my work. If not, you will be breaking the forum rules, not to mention the law, and no one likes that. (Not to mention I will be furious)

Well, that's out of the way. And now for an improved introduction. The name is Timbowolf, and this is my fanficton of how I want the fourth book of the IC to go. After the chapter index the prologue begins, so enter reading mode and I hope you enjoy it. And whether you enjoy it or not, all feedback it appreciated, positive or negative, so post away and I will do my best to respond to your criticism ASAP. So, without further ado...



****************

Prologue: Empire

The sun was rising over the land of Alagaesia. Its gentle rays slowly spread across the ground, awakening the world for a new day. The sun eventually reached the gigantic, ancient trees of the forest of Du Weldenvarden, mixing gold and emerald to produce a dazzling sight. Along with it came the increase in energy as the animals of the forest awakened. Galbatorix had meditated enough in the forest to know the feeling.

It would make a great fairth he thought to himself. He personally had never really liked the forest and could never understand why the elves were so attached to it. Sure, it was beautiful and full of life, but so were many other things. He simply shrugged. It was the way things seemed to work with them: nothing was ever clear. They were such a strange, cryptic people.

Galabtorix stood tall and proud in front of the huge trees of the forest. His unusually long brown hair went down to his shoulders, while he eyes shone as a light blue. Thick eyebrows and a pointed face lent him an intimidating look, as did his size. He wore a basic brown tunic with black boots. At thirty years of age he was still young, especially by rider standards, though his skills as a rider were considered very impressive for his age.

As he thought about the strange ways of the elves a voice entered his head and gently observed, It is simply their way of life. It is just how you always like seeing the ocean.

Galbatorix smiled slightly as Jarnunvosk’s mind swept across his; the feeling of being together with his dragon partner was always a good one. You are right, I suppose. Well, we should probably get going. The Council will need to know that those bandits plaguing Yazuac have been taken care of.

Galbatorix felt the wind gust around him as the magnificent red dragon that was his partner landed on the ground near him. Jarnunvosk’s red scales glistened brightly in the sunlight as she came down, from the tip of her head, down the length of her chest and bsck all the way to the pointed tip of her tail. Galbatorix easily leapt on top of her, dodging her large neck spikes and together they started their flight towards Vroengard.

Galbatorix could still remember his life before be became a rider; he had just been another boy in the village of Inzilbeth, with a family that did not want him, a few crowns he had scavenged from the street, and the clothes on his back. He had no friends, no home, almost no literacy; someone destined to live life and fade into nothing.

All of that had changed in an unexpected turn of events. On the run from a group of street thugs, Galbatorix had gotten away to find a group of round, shiny objects ahead of him, displayed on a large pedestal in the center of the village. One that caught his eye was a brilliant shade of red. Deciding that it would be worth stealing, he had run up to it and seized it, only to be caught by someone nearby; someone with a dragon.

Only minutes later Galbatorix learned that the person who caught him was a dragon rider, and the object he had tried to steal was a dragon egg, and one that would hatch for him. He could still rememeber after he had been branded with the Gewedy Insignia, the first time he had felt Jarnunvosk’s mind against his. From that day on, Galbatorix knew that he finally had someone who cared about him. And almost two decades later they were closer than ever.

The ride to Vroengard was uneventful but Jarnunvosk’s feelings were in a tumult. Galbatorix patted her neck gently and asked, What is wrong? You have not been this distracted in a long time. The dragon made no reply for a moment. Galbatorix waited patiently, knowing his partner would speak when she was ready. Finally, the reply came.

I keep having these strange dreams. All of them take place on some kind of field of ice, and there is a terrible battle raging. I cannot figure out what it means. It is very frustrating. I have never even seen anywhere with so much ice before.

Galbatorix shrugged. I do not know what to say. Maybe it is a vision, or it could just be a nightmare. I mean, I had a dream the other night.

Jarnunvosk cocked up her head. Really? What happened.

Galbatorix laughed slightly. I dreamt I was the ruler of a huge Empire, and everyone was loyal to me. Imagine that: me, a king.

The red dragon chuckled in a low voice. That would certainly be a great achievement. Maybe it will happen one day. Just imagine…</i> She trailed off as they two life partners continued to go towards the home of the riders, just enjoying the beautiful scene and being together.

*

The two soldiers were arguing vehemently. They were even starting to disregard the volume of their voices and yell loudly enough for people to come running. “"You are higher ranking than I am; you should be the one to tell him!"”

"Oh no, Keller. If that is true, then I am ordering you to tell him!"”

"But it’is your duty, [i]Captain Hesslov!"”

"You are my subordinate! You tell him!"”

"Tell me what?", came a cold, cutting voice. The soldiers looked up to see a tall man approaching them. A dark black robe streaked with red swirled around him, giving him the appearance of levitation. His face was worn with age and he was very nearly bald. His blue eyes stared out like shards of ice, and when combined with his thick, dark eyebrows and pointed face, his look was one of permanent anger. His hand rested on the hilt of a sword in a decorative, ornate sheath. A large ruby was set in the hilt.

Hesslov stuttered loudly but Keller found his tongue. “"We…just received news that Feinster has fallen to the Varden, and Gil’ead to the elves, your majesty."”

The man asked quietly, menacingly, "How did this happen?"”

Keller simply said, "Both sights were overwhelmed. Eragon Shadeslayer and his dragon defeated the three sorcerers of Feinster, and the elves managed to take Gil’ead once Murtagh and Thorn left. I am sorry, your majesty. Forgive me for bearing such harsh news." He sank to one knee, desperately hoping that it would be quick. He heard the sword unsheathed and it whistle through the air.

But the blow never came. Instead, he heard a clatter as his friend hit the ground with no head. The old man said, "There is no penalty for bringing bad news, so long as one does not remain silent. That foolish friend of yours reminds me of those idiots who came to me about the Battle of the Burning Plains. Just struck-dumb fools! You, on the other hand, had the bravery to face me and tell me of the losses like a man. If only bravery were enough to win this pointless war."”

Keller rose. "Thank you, sire", came from his lips but the man was hardly paying attention. He simply stared around, looking at the walls, and walked away. Keller let out a loud breath of relief. It was not every day a soldier survived meeting Galbatorix, king of the Empire.

****************

*Edits:
1. Added a paragraph describing Galbatorix.
2. Jarnunvosk is now a red female dragon, as opposed to black and male.
3. Added some background on how Jarnunvosk hatched for Galbatorix
4. Improved paragraph structure

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Well, there you are. If you all like it, there's more where that came from.

This post has been edited by Timbowolf: 10 March 2010 - 07:53 PM

[Lord Murphy]

It is a good start. I have not seen many fan fics that use a Galby PoV like that. I would take down the poll right now as it is to early for a true rating. Continue it and we will see how it goes. I think it is good for your first chapter.

[nagra]

Just so you know, our friend Galby never went to Ellesmera or Farthen Dur. I also agree with what pmurphy said, "It is too early for us to adequately rate your story." However, I did give you a 4 star. For a couple reasons:

It is interesting, which means I read every paragraph
It is easy to understand
And it is original (so far) which means it can take many different paths. And for your info. you want your story to be original, but not outlandish.

However, personally I would like longer updates even if they are less often.

Good luck with the rest of the story.


~ |\| /-\ G |Q /-\

[arzakov]

I agree with what nagra said but I must say that I am interested in how you portray Galby here.

I won't say anything about the chapter since it is your first chapter but do keep going!

[Timbowolf]

Just so you know, our friend Galby never went to Ellesmera or Farthen Dur. I also agree with what pmurphy said, "It is too early for us to adequately rate your story." However, I did give you a 4 star. For a couple reasons:

It is interesting, which means I read every paragraph
It is easy to understand
And it is original (so far) which means it can take many different paths. And for your info. you want your story to be original, but not outlandish.

However, personally I would like longer updates even if they are less often.

Good luck with the rest of the story.


~ |\| /-\ G |Q /-\

Oh snap, that's right! Sorry about that! I've never done this before so, should i just leave it up with the mistake or take it down or what? Also, I will take down the poll too, I just wasn't certain whether to include one or not. I based the setup off other fanfics I've seen. First time, I'm bound to make mistakes.

P.S. glad you like it!

[hrothgarknurlan]

I really like this beginning! I've never seen anyone start with a Galby flashback like that, it really gives you a feel for his character.

I would very much like to see more after that promising start!

[Feladrin]

It's good! The descriptions are alright and you also started with a Galby POV, which makes this story more... original. Good work, I give you 5 stars because I feel generous today.

[Timbowolf]

Well, so far I'm reading positive comments (thank you to everyone who has commented), so here goes Chapter 1. Warning: there won't be a whole lot of action in the book for quite a while.

Chapter 1: The Aftermath of Feinster

Most of the fires consuming Feinster had either burned out or been extinguished by the third morning following the battle. As the city was secured Eragon walked through it in one of his elven tunics with Brisingr at his hip, his brown eyes half closed with the grim realization that so many people had lost so much. Homes, livelihoods, family, that and more that been taken away from the people. Buildings lay in ruins, stone and wood covering the streets. There were still a number of bodies that were being carted out. It is a sad day when we must hurt the innocent to get at our enemy thought Eragon. Galbatorix had a shield of thousands of innocent people they would have to fight through to get at him, just one man. It was a cruel irony.

Outside the badly damaged gate Saphira, magnifiscent and blue as always, stood waiting for him. She lowered her giant blue head and nudged him as he approached. Hello, little one.

He grinned. Hello yourself. Did you see anything while you were scouting?

She shook her head slightly and snorted out a few flames. Nothing. It would seem that Galbatorix is too shocked by our victory to have done anything yet. Well, we should not be surprised. This is the biggest offensive the Varden has ever launched against him. We have taken Feinster, and I heard that Aroughs was also taken. Two of the Empire’s cities have fallen; no small accomplishment. Eragon saw that she did not mention the elves’ victory at Gil’ead. He did not correct her. The simple thought was already reminding him of the deaths of their masters.

Oromis and Glaedr had come out of hiding to engage the Empire directly and in the first battle had been killed by Murtagh. Or was it Galbatorix? Through Glaedr’s Eldunari, or Heart of Hearts, Eragon and Saphira had witnessed Galbatorix possessing Murtagh and through him killing the elf rider. And afterwards Thorn had apparently killed Glaedr. Now Eragon did not know what to think. Who was responsible?

Both Eragon and Saphria had felt terribly hurt after learning of their masters’ deaths. Oromis had been like a third father to Eragon after Garrow and Brom, and Glaedr had been the only dragon Saphira had been given a chance to be with, and both of them had been snuffed out just after deciding to emerge from hiding and fight.

Things had changed, though. While they missed them, both had come to the agreement that spending a long time grieving was not going to help them. They would be better off devoting their time to helping those who were still alive, and so put what they had learned under their masters to good use, especially since Glaedr was still around in his eldunari, though he had not said anything since Oromis’s death. Thoughts of their deaths were still uncomfortable to think about, however.

Trying to push the thoughts out of his mind, Eragon asked Do you know where Nasuada is? I would like to find out how much longer we will be staying in Feinster.

Saphira replied I think she is at her tent, though I have not seen her so far today. Figuring that was a good place to start, Eragon started walking towards Nasuada’s tent with Saphira following behind him.

As they walked Eragon looked over to see an assemblage of injured soldiers having their wounds healed by magicians of Du Vrangr Gata. The first day after the battle, Eragon had spent a good portion of the day healing injured soldiers, but the number he had healed paled in comparison to the number that remained. He was heartened to see that the numbers at the improvised infirmary had decreased again, but there were still many. No matter the result of a battle, there was always someone that got hurt.

At her tent Eragon did indeed find Nasuada, wearing a dark golden dress in deep conversation with Jormundur, who was still armored. She looked up as Eragon entered and Jormundur seemed to decide that their conversation was over, for he gave a stiff bow and muttered, “My Lady.” She nodded and dismissed Jormundur, who left through another flap.

She turned to Eragon and gave him a look he could not describe. It was hard to tell anything from it. Her voice, however, was not so unexpressive. “Eragon, do you know what we have accomplished? For the first time since the fall of the Riders, we have taken a city that was part of the Empire. And because you were here with us, it makes the victory even more heartening. This is a good victory for us.” Eragon simply nodded, knowing Nasuada had more to say.

Her next words were more serious. “But we must not get overconfident. We still have a great deal of work ahead of us. We have almost finished making our preparations to leave. The dwarves should hopefully be here by tomorrow morning. The moment they arrive we march with them towards Belatona.”

Eragon asked her, “Are you sure the men will be ready by tomorrow?”

Nasuada replied in a hard voice, “They must be. Galbatorix has so far not reacted to our victory, meaning he is likely not sure of what his next move should be. Until he is, we have the advantage. We need to push hard, for we are still in a dangerous position. As long as Belatona and Dras-Leona are under his control he has the advantage over us in numbers and in supplies. A long, drawn-out war will go in his favor. Until those cities are under our control, we cannot rest longer than is necessary. We march with the arrival of the dwarves, whether the Varden are ready or not.”

Saphira asked Eragon What about the elves? Where will they go next?

Eragon repeated the question to Nasuada. She replied, “I spoke with Queen Islanzadi earlier this morning. With Gil’ead secured they will march towards Dras-Leona. Once we have taken Belatona we will meet them there and together all of us will take Dras-Leona. From there, only Uru’baen remains.”

The capital of the Empire, and Galbatorix’s lurking place thought Eragon grimly. Being forced to confront Galbatorix on his own terms was something Eragon had been hoping to avoid, but it seemed that Galbatorix would be the one to decide the place of their battle.

Nasuada took a moment to rub her temples gently. She then cursed slightly. “I just hope things do not get worse as we get closer. The Council of Elders is beginning to question my judgment again, and this time the one person among them I thought I could rely on, Jormundur, agrees with them.”

Saphira growled as Eragon asked, “What is going on? Are they simply putting pressure on you?”

“I almost wish they were. But over the past two days they have started to take it upon themselves to give around orders without my knowledge. If Sabrae had had her way, we would have been plundering Feinster for everything it had. Luckily, Jarsha warned me about it and I intervened. But they are starting to flex their muscles, and that worries me. The five of them, Jormundur, Sabrae, Elessari, Umerth, and Falberd are all giving me a headache lately.”

Eragon asked with surprise, “Jormundur?”

Nasuada gave him a sad look. “Jormundur has been at times like a combination of uncle and father to me, but in this case even he is against me. He thinks I should surrender command to the council until my wounds are completely healed. He wonders if the war is beginning to affect my judgment. Does he really think wounds like this will slow me down?! I am fully capable of leading, and the wounds are getting better every day. Within a week or two I should be fully healed. And has the war affected my judgment? I think for the better! Hmpf! And the worst part is that I am worried that if I and the Council start to be at odds with each other, we could divide the Varden, and that is one thing we absolutely cannot afford. It will mean the end.”

She stepped closer to Eragon and put a hand on his shoulder. “You are a very powerful weapon in the game of politics around here. You have sworn your loyalty specifically to me, and the Council is afraid of that. Understand Eragon: I do not want to bring you into this, as it could begin a three-way split, and this is not your battle, but you must know that if this gets out of control I will have to resort to drastic measures.”

Eragon gnawed his lip worriedly. “What do you mean by drastic?”

“Meaning I might have to leave the Varden and appoint you in my place. No matter the Council’s standing, they could never challenge you. I would rather this not have to happen, but if they directly challenge my authority it may be the only way to stop them.”

Eragon asked, “Are you sure you would not want them in charge of the Varden?”

Nasuada nodded with complete certainty. “There was a time, not so long ago, when I would have been perfectly happy to let them rule. Now, maybe it is my pride speaking for me, or my survival instincts, but I will not let them take control of the Varden. If they do, everything my father stood for will be lost.”

Saphira commented bluntly If only it were as simple as just getting rid of them. There are number of ways it could be done.

She sent this directly to Nasuada’s mind, and she gave small smile after hearing it. “Yes, you are right, Saphira. However, the circumstances do not allow such solutions. Besides, resorting to assassination is something I will not do; it is as low as one can go. No, we will just have to wait. If Belatona goes well than maybe there will be no problem. The morale will be so high that it would be foolish for them to try and overthrow me. But if anything goes badly wrong…” She trailed off but Eragon did not need her to finish. He knew a major mistake on her part could destroy the Varden’s stability. He admired how she could still stand tall under such pressure.

***************

*Edits:
1. Added more decription of Eragon and Saphira’s appearances
2. Added paragraph or two describing how Eragon and Saphira overcame their grief from the deaths of Oromis and Glaedr
3. Improved paragraph structure

***************
Go ahead and comment, as both postive and negative feedback are appreciated. I'm working on getting a link to the book through my posts but it hasn't worked so far. In the meantime, if everyone continues to like what I'm posting, I'll keep going in the story. It will continue with Chapter 2: Son of Morzan.

This post has been edited by Timbowolf: 16 December 2009 - 03:06 PM

[holyknight]

I'm really interested to see how this works out.

[Feladrin]

I'm really interested to see how this works out.

I was about to say the same thing . I really wanna see the Murtagh chapter, don't ask me why. Murtagh stories always seem more... interesting, at least for me.

This chapter was really good, and I didn't found any mistake. The storyline is flowing pretty smooth and the descriptions are ok . But what I liked is what Nasuada(or it was saphira) thought about assassinating the council members. Oh my, that would have been so cool, and so evil!

[Lord Murphy]

You are doing a great job. This is one of the best new fan fics that is around. Keep it up.

[baneofdurza]

WOW thats all i can say apart from THIS
*mutters your true name*
i order you to update name slave and to read my signature

[Timbowolf]

Nice, I'm glad everyone likes it. I hope it will start to spread around more as I put more of it up. Okay, here's chapter 2.

Chapter 2: Son of Morzan

Murtagh’s eyes flittered as he slowly woke up, surrounded by the cold, black walls of his room. No matter how many times he saw it he could still not get used to it. It almost reminded him of his time imprisoned among the Varden. But then he had been happy, something he could not brag now.

Right against his back laid Thorn, stretched out on the floor and still asleep. Ever since he had gotten to a reasonable size Murtagh had forsaken sleeping on a bed so that he could sleep at Thorn’s side. The red dragon was his only comfort in his life, and he felt much better when he was around.

Murtagh just sat there for a while, watching Thorn’s chest rise and fall with his breathing. A few minutes later Thorn awoke. He gave a loud, growling yawn and stretched his legs, scraping the floor slightly with his claws. Then he flexed his new tail. It had taken almost two days but through a very advanced spell Galbatorix had managed to put Thorn’s tail back to the way it was; just another part of Thorn that the king had accelerated.

Accelerated growth; according to everything logical it was a very risky procedure, as without the experience of growth you were trapped in a body larger than it should be; even the elves were wary of using it. Sure, Galbatorix’s methods had improved since his acceleration of Shruikan’s growth, but the side effects seemed unavoidable.

Murtagh could remember when Thorn was still small and Galbatorix had begun accelerating his growth. That had been less than three days since Thorn had hatched. There were times when Thorn did not know his own strength and smashed walls or, on two occasions, had killed nearby soldiers by accident. Murtagh could remember a cold hand squeezing his heart as he watched Thorn suffer. And he remembered with hate how Galbatorix had laughed at these incidents. No words, just laughing. Laughter at the sight of a poor dragon hatchling who should not have been going through the torture he had been enduring.

Thorn looked at Murtagh with his deep, sad vermilion eyes. Good morning, young one.

Murtagh thought back Morning. How does your tail feel?

Thorn waved it around a few times and flexed it, then looked back at him.

It is fine. Galbatorix is not known for making mistakes.

Murtagh clenched his teeth at those words; he hated that Galabatorix’s dark methods always seemed to work so well. Thorn noticed this and said gently, It is alright. Calm yourself. We will have to report to Galbatorix later this morning, and you know he hates it when you approach him angry. Murtagh reluctantly consented and calmed himself down as best he could, Thorn helping him along the way by joining their minds and transferring some of his calm over to Murtagh.

Then, Thorn? What did you think of that Rider we fought over Gil’ead?

Thorn thought for a moment before saying, He was old, and an elf. And he was on the side of the Varden. And his dragon was ancient. He was gigantic. All the more impressive when you know that his growth was not accelerated, like mine’s or Shruikan’s. He was easily almost Shruikan’s size. Murtagh agreed. The gold dragon had been one of the largest living beings he had ever seen. And the elf, he too must have been ancient. And now they were both dead.

Do you think he really was the last? Or are there maybe more riders out there who survived the Fall?

Thorn held little optimism. No, Galbatorix and the Forsworn kept careful track of the riders they had killed. The survival of those two was likely an accident on the part of Kialandi and Formora, who had imprisoned them.

Murtagh glanced at him. How do you know so much about the fall of the riders?

Thorn replied, Shruikan has talked about it a number of times. Usually he just has a rush of memories, and from there I can usually determine what he is talking about. Some of it I purposely try not to listen to. What has been done before us can be very scary.

Thorn looked at him and asked, Why are you curious about the elf rider? Are you thinking about what we did again?

Murtagh asked him right back, Do you think about it? About what we did?

A low growl escaped Thorn. Murtagh, I killed one of my own kind, one of the last. Of course I think about it!

Murtagh quickly laid a hand on his face. I am sorry Thorn; I did not mean it like that. I was just curious, because I also think about the rider. I know nothing about him, but I feel empty when I think about killing him. I felt this too when the dwarf king was killed, but this time it feels worse. Killing has never bothered me before, but these killings do.

Thorn replied, There is no need to apologize; I, too, feel emptiness when I think of the dead golden dragon. But that is not what truly bothers you the most, is it?

Murtagh shook his head. No, more than what happened, how it happened bothers me a great deal. That is the second time Galbatorix has possessed me. First there was the dwarf king, and now this new Rider. I do not like the idea of him being able to take control me.

No, it is not a good feeling. Even I felt his control on me as I finished off the gold dragon. His mind is just so cold, so ruthless. He could kill anybody who got in his way; even one of us. That was the part worrying Murtagh. He had so far not seen Galbatorix since Thorn’s tail had been healed, and during that time Galbatorix had not said one word about the mission and its results. Murtagh knew it was coming, though. It was only a matter of time.

Thorn curled his tail and then asked What about the sword?

Murtagh shrugged. What about it? It is just another rider’s sword; he has hundreds of them. There was still a reasonable amount of energy left in the pommel of the sword, but what does that mean to Galbatorix? No, I do not think recovering the elf’s sword will gain us very much favor with Galbatorix. We do not even have the dragon’s eldunari; he had none, meaning he had already surrendered it, maybe to Eragon and Saphira. No, that may have earned us a little praise, as it would have been a large one, but no, the sword means nothing. When Galbatorix finally gets around to meeting with us, he is going to be furious.

Right on cue the door opened and in walked Galbatorix. He looked at both Murtagh and Thorn and then addressed the former. “So.” He then became silent and said nothing. Murtagh wondered why. Was he so angry he could not find the words? Or was he ecstatic with glee? There was never a way to tell with Galbatorix.

Finally he leered at Murtagh. “I had thirteen loyal followers among the Forsworn, and right now I would trade ten of you for any one of them.” Murtagh jumped up off the floor and glared at him. He opened his mouth but Galbatorix resumed speaking.

“I have given you more power than any rider your age ever had in the old days! I have accelerated the growth of your dragon until he is almost a year’s worth of growth larger than what he should be! I have given you access to one of the greatest sources of magic in Alagaesia, and still you remain worthless to me!”

He quieted again but this time he was quiet only for a few second before resuming. “On the Burning Plains, it was only through my possession that you killed the dwarf king and nearly sent their people into chaos. By your own dithering mind you could not bring Eragon and his dragon to me. Right there, you could have ended this. But no, you followed the path of a coward! Then, I gave you a chance for redemption. And that time, you failed me out of weakness! By all of my calculations, you should have won, but you did not! A few of those slant-eyed, forest-loving, scroll-reading, noble-minded elves were able to push you back! And at Gil’ead you again required my help to kill Oromis and his dragon. And even with that we lost the city because your dragon did not watch his tail! What am I going to do with you, Murtagh?! The Varden and the Elves have taken four cities away from me, and they stand ready to attack even more. Why? Because I was unlucky enough to get stuck with the weaker of the two riders!”

Thorn snarled while Murtagh said in a poorly restrained voice, “You think I am weak? I’m not weak, and I swear to you I will prove it one day. I will even swear in the Ancient Language if you want me to.”

The king snorted. “I cannot afford to lose you just yet, as I know you would fail in attempting to impress me and die. No, you have proven yourself to be one of my most worthless assets. I can think of dozens of loyal, sturdy men under my command who I would take as a rider over you in a heartbeat. If only your father were still here; he would have picked his teeth with you.”

Those last words awakened a deep-rotted fury in Murtagh. Before he could stop himself he asked, “If you miss him so much why do you not bring him back from the dead? You and he and can share your little dreams of power without me.”

At first Galbatorix looked like he had been slapped in the face. Then his look went to rage. “You forget your place, Murtagh.” He raised his hand and Murtagh was on the ground, screaming in pain. Thorn reached out with his mind to comfort him but Galbatorix shielded it. Thorn looked at Galbatorix but he was then frozen in place by another spell.

Almost five minutes passed and Galbatorix finally released Murtagh. He looked down at his slave and kicked him once in the ribs. “Remember Murtagh; I hold your destiny in the palm of my hand. And if this doesn’t work, maybe torturing Thorn will get me some cooperation from you.” With that last thought Galbatorix stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Murtagh lay where he was, shaking as if having a seizure. Thorn slowly walked over to him and nuzzled him gently. Murtagh got up slowly, wrapped his arms around Thorn’s neck and hugged him hard, feeling very helpless before such a powerful master. The two remained there for a long time, together as one, even under the control of Galbatorix.

**********************

*Edits:
1. Added a paragraph or two about how Murtagh and Thorn feel guilty about Oromis and Glaedr.
2. Improved paragraph structure

*****************
Another one down. Again, I hope more people will start commenting so I can be sure there is interest. I'll post the next chapter once I get some feedback. The next chapter will be Chapter 3: Enlistment. Until next time.

P.S. Cute, baneofdurza. Now I suppose I'll be a slave to you just like Murtagh is to Galbatorix. Whenever you want a new chapter, I'll have to post one, I guess. In the meantime, I'm glad you like the story.

This post has been edited by Timbowolf: 16 December 2009 - 03:11 PM

[baneofdurza]

to use your own words in your story NAME SLAVE

“I had thirteen loyal followers among the Forsworn, and right now I would trade ten of you for any one of them.”

NEVER CALL ME CUTE AGAIN OR YOU WON'T HAVE FINGERS TO TYPE WITH
*breathes deeply*
still your going better then one of my other name slaves (YES I DO HAVE SEVERAL)
oh and i forgot to mention
I HAVE THOUGHT OF EVERY WAY TO DIE AND HAVE WARDS FOR THEM
yes i know i am a cruel sadistic bastard
oh and i might not be on for a few weeks the school decided to start expelling Yr 8's in my house were down to 2 from 4*gulp* and i am soon on the list *mega gulp*
oh and UPDATE NAME SLAVE

This post has been edited by baneofdurza: 12 June 2009 - 05:02 AM

[Feladrin]

Baneofdurza, please try to use proper grammar and don't say random stuff just like that. You may be joking, you may be not, but almost all your posts contain spam and random stuff.

Here are 2 important rules:

All posts must contribute to the story in a constructive matter. Any sort of spamming will not be tolerated. Spamming includes (but is not restricted to) begging for updates and in general making posts that have nothing to do with the posted story. Any sort of spamming will result in a warning or a possible post-suspension.

Posts in the Writer's Hangout Subforums should ONLY INCLUDE constructive criticism, praise, story ideas, and suggestions for improvement. Low content posts (e.g. only posting something like "Great story") doesn't help the writer improve in any way. Short explanations for why you did (not) like it etc, is expected as a minimum.

Anyway, getting on-topic: I really liked the way you portrayed Murtagh, especially when he wants to demonstrate that he is not a weakling.
Will you keep him like this or you will have him change his true name?

The only thing that I felt that you could do better would be to add some emotions when they talked about Oromis and Glaedr. How did they feel about killing him? And what after? Did they enjoy it or they are simply pissed because they were used as a tool to kill a free rider?