[ptcruiser]

Ok everybody, this is my version of book four. Please comment and critique.

Wyrda abr Dragons

Chapter 1:
Quiet

A peace settled over Eragon as he felt the beat of Saphira’s wings beneath him, a peace he had not felt since the Battle of Feinster two days before, where his masters, Oromis and Glaedr, had been slain by the dark king Galbatorix and his slaves Murtagh and Thorn. Eragon had reflected much upon whether or not Murtagh and Thorn were to blame or not, but he had not reached a solution. He did not let these thoughts trouble him, however, for he was at peace, if only for a short time.

Eragon gave a deep sigh of gladness as he and Saphira winged their way through the blue sky, not caring whither they went. Flying calmed his mind like nothing else. You were right, Saphira. He spoke to his partner. We needed to get away for a few hours and clear our minds.

Saphira snorted, and a jet of blue flame shot from her mouth. Of course I was right. Dragons have an infallible knowledge. Besides, you needed to stop grieving for a while. Eragon, I am just as sad as you are, but Oromis and Glaedr were old, and they had a long, rich life. Do not mourn their passing, for they died doing what they wanted to do. Besides, Glaedr still lives, and we may be able to comfort him later on.

You are right, as usual, Saphira. Eragon replied. However, I do not know how we can comfort Glaedr. Nothing we could say could ever stop that overwhelming grief. Gone. That was all he said. Gone. How terrible to be alone, totally alone, without the person you love the most. Perhaps we can comfort him somehow. However, we must let the future take care of itself until it becomes the present.

Why little one, that was almost wise! Saphira teased him.

I am honored, O most wise and prodigious dragon. Eragon said, a grin forming on his mouth.

Saphira turned her head back toward him, looking at him with a large sapphire eye. Do I detect a not of sarcasm?

Oh no, O wisest of all beings... Eragon suddenly let out a yelp as Saphira did several barrel rolls. There goes my breakfast.

Saphira shook with silent laughter. That should teach you not to argue with a dragon.

It should. But then, it probably won’t. I’m a slow learner. Happiness and laughter surged across their mental link, and Eragon gave a shout of joy. “Saphira, lets have some fun!”

A roar and a blaze of flame erupted from Saphira’s mouth as each surge and beat of her wings carried her higher into the clear blue sky and closer the clouds. As the air started to get thinner, she asked, Ready?

Ready. Eragon replied. Saphira suddenly dived, her wings folded and her neck outstretched. The wind tore at Eragon’s hair and clothes, and he yelled in a giddy feeling of weightlessness. They spiraled down and the ground spun as they grew closer. About two hundred feet above the ground, Saphira unfolded her wings and leveled out, swooping over Feinster and the Varden campsite.

She roared and breathed fire as many of the Varden cheered. Was that fire absolutely necessary? Eragon asked as they flew toward their tent at the edge of the camp.

Absolutely. It’s very good for morale.

Eragon laughed. Yours?

Of course not. I meant the Varden’s.

Eragon smiled as they glided to a stop. I won’t argue, even though I am a slow learner.

Saphira chuckled. Indeed. And when did you learn that enlightening fact?

A few minutes ago. Is it all right if I go to the food tents since I lost my breakfast?

It is. I believe I will go hunt, I have not eaten since before the battle. Remember though, there will be a council this afternoon. Nasuada said so.

I remember, but that is why I have you around. You remind me of all the things I need to do.

You should still remember things. I won’t always remind you. What if I didn’t?

You wouldn’t. Would you?

Who knows? And with that, Saphira took off to hunt. After telling the elves who guarded him where he was going, Eragon set off towards the food tents.

The Varden seemed noisy to Eragon’s finely tuned elven ears, but it was a happy noise. Morale had never been higher, a large city had been captured, word was that the elves had left the forests to help them, and the Varden had a powerful rider. Consequently, when Eragon expanded his mind to his surroundings, he felt an overwhelming attitude of hope from the people of the Varden.

He threaded his way though tents, warriors, small children, carts, animals, and everything else that composed the Varden. Every once in a while, someone would call out, “Thank you, Shadeslayer!” These outbursts warmed his heart. Eragon arrived at the food tents with a happier heart than in many a day, and also with a very empty stomach.

One of the cooks recognized him and had a table and chair ready in an instant. “What can I do for you, Shadeslayer?” he asked.

“I’d like a loaf of bread and a mug of ale.” Eragon replied. Soon after, he was sitting at a table ravenously eating the bread, interposed with long droughts of ale, and altogether looking very little like a dignified elf. He had told the cook to give him a table in the corner of the tent, and so very few people recognized that a dragon rider was in the tent.

As he finished his meal, he saw a familiar figure come into the large tent. Eragon signaled one of the servers. “Ask my cousin to come over here.” The server nodded and soon came back with Roran in tow.

Eragon signaled him to leave, and he got up and embraced Roran. “It’s good to see you.”

“I tried to see you yesterday, but the elves said you could not be disturbed.” Roran said.

“I was meditating.” Eragon said, revealing nothing else. Roran looked slightly confused, but did not press the issue. “What have you been doing since I left?” Eragon asked.

“Well, I don’t really want to tell you this, but someone must. I’m famous.”

Eragon laughed. “I thought you already were famous!”

Roran sighed. “Even more so now, I’m afraid.” Eragon’s eyes grew wide with amazement as Roran told how he had killed 193 men in a fight.

“That is amazing, Roran! You deserve to be famous with a record like that.”

Roran looked at him. “That is not all, I’m afraid. I wrestled with an Urgal and won.”

Eragon choked on his last bit of ale. “You what?”

“I wrestled with an Urgal and won. He challenged me, and I had no choice but to accept. Luckily for me, I won.”

Eragon stared at him, still trying to believe that his cousin whom he had grown up with was capable of such extraordinary feats. He finally found his voice. “Congratulations Roran. All I can say is, you have some extraordinary courage and heart. It must run in the family.”

Roran looked at him to see if he was joking, and Eragon laughed. “I was kidding, Roran. That really is something. You should be proud of that.” He watched his cousin for a moment, and somehow got the feeling that not all was right. “Is something wrong?”
His cousin sighed. “Yes Eragon, there is. Katrina has been having contractions, and she is only three months pregnant. Could you look at her? I don’t trust any other spellcasters.”

Eragon nodded. “Of course, although pregnancies aren’t really my specialty in healing. I have a council this afternoon, how about I come over to your tent after words?”

Roran nodded in relief. “Thank you, Eragon. I will see you late this afternoon then.”

“I have to get back to my tent.” Eragon said. “So, I will see you later.” He walked through the tent, hurrying before anyone recognized him. In a moment, he was out and walking back towards his tent.

When he arrived, Saphira was just winging her way back. Saphira, I think I will take a nap before the meeting.

All right, little one. Saphira replied. Eragon walked into his tent, and quickly fell asleep.

Edit: I writing this for fun, but primarily to improve my skills as a writer. Critique is appreciated. Also, updates could come daily, or weekly, depending on my schedule.

This post has been edited by ptcruiser: 15 November 2009 - 08:20 AM

[DuBrisingerShurtugal]

This is a very good start I want to see where you go with this.
Only problem I found:
“I wrestled with a with an Urgal and won."
Should be
“I wrestled with an Urgal and won. "
Other than that good work.

This post has been edited by DuBrisingerShurtugal: 30 July 2009 - 12:52 AM

[ptcruiser]

Thank you. I fixed that. I know some people won't like the slow beginning, but it is my intention to build my characters and plot from the ground up. This next chapter is kinda slow, not my favorite to write, but we may see some action in a few chapters. Anyway, here is chapter 2.

Chapter 2:
Council

Eragon.

No, I don’t want to wake up yet.

ERAGON! The force of Saphira’s mental yell pulled Eragon out of his slumber, and he sat up, rubbing his head.

Why did you have to do that? He asked. You made me wake up with a headache.

You were going to sleep through the meeting. She replied. It’s in half an hour!

Oh. Thanks, I guess. He severed the link and went to the washbasin to wash his face. The cool water refreshed him, and he put on a fresh tunic, one that the elves had given him. As he belted on Brisnigr, he spoke to Saphira.

Saphira, I have been thinking. Nasuada has a day where everyone comes and bring their problems to her for her to judge. Now, I do not want people to bring their problems to me, but they do anyway, so why don’t I have a day where people can have audiences with me? That at least would prevent them from mobbing me every time I so much as stick my nose out of the tent door.

That is a very good idea, little one, although I think they will still mob you. You are a dragon rider, and I am a dragon. They will still want to see you, but I think that this would help.

I’m glad you agree, I will speak to Nasuada about it after the council.

Speaking of the council...

I know, I know. He walked out of his tent door and squinted at the bright sunlight. You were right. The council will start soon.

She sighed mentally. Of course I was right. Didn’t we go over that this morning?

Eragon grinned. Right. He walked up to the leader of his group of elves, Blodhgarm. “I am going to meet with Lady Nasuada. I will fly on Saphira, and you can meet me there.”

Blodhgarm nodded. “As you wish, Shadeslayer.”

As Blodhgarm summoned the other elves, Eragon was once again struck at how formal most elves were. They spoke little, and courtesy was a must in their culture. One could not risk offending when a grudge could be held for centuries. He continued musing on this as he mounted Saphira.

The flight to Lady Nasuada’s tent went quickly, and Saphira was soon landing. Eragon leaped off as four of the Nighthawks walked up to him. “Eragon Shadeslayer, to see Lady Nasuada. She is expecting me.”

The Nighthawks nodded. “You are expected. Go on in.”

Eragon nodded his thanks and walked through the door while Saphira went around to where a hole was cut in the side of the tent for her head to stick through. Nasuada stood to greet him.

“Eragon. I’m glad you could make it. And Saphira.” She said, acknowledging to where Saphira had stuck her head in through the hole.

He looked around, and saw King Orrin. Islanzadi was visible in a scrying mirror. After nodding to them, he took a seat and listened as Nasuada once again began to speak.

“This meeting is basically to discuss strategy.” She said. “After the capture of Feinster, morale is at an all time high. We must keep this and add to it. However, the soldiers are tired. They need to rest. From what thought I have given to the matter, I believe we should wait two days, and then march towards Belatona. This will give the men sufficient time to rest, but will also not wait for the morale to fall. What do you all think about this plan?”

The tent was silent for a moment, and then Orrin stood. “I agree with Lady Nasuada. My men need rest, but I have never seen them so hopeful. I concur with this plan.”

Even as he sat down, Islanzadi spoke up proudly from the mirrror. “The elves need no rest. Gilead was taken with minimal casualties, and my people are still fresh. However, The Mouning Sage has fallen, and his dragon is no more. The elves will mourn their deaths for three days. After that, they will march Dras Leona to help capture the city.”

Moments after she spoke, a messenger came in and spoke to Lady Nasuada in whispered tones. Lady Nasuada said something to him and he ran out.

“I think we are in agreement then?” she asked. Everyone nodded. “I have good news.” She said. “I just received word that Orik has gotten the clans together, and they are on their way. They will march directly to Dras Leona, and should be there by the time the Varden arrive.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Orrin stood. “That is indeed good news."

"We have one other pressing matter to discuss." Nasuada said. "That is, the other dragon and rider. I briefed King Orrin on this." she said, seeing the looks on the other faces of the council. "Basically, should we spread the word that there was another dragon and rider? It would be good for morale, but also, it would not be good when they learned of their untimely death."

Eragon was silent, he was mostly a bystander. He knew he had little say in the matter.

King Orrin stood. "If I may be so bold, I believe that we should not tell the troops of them. When I learned, I felt quiet angered that the elves had never told us about this. They could have been a great help. I understand things a little better now," he said, looking over a Islanzadi, "but I still feel that the general masses might feel angered that the elves had withheld such great knowledge and such monumental help from the Varden and the Surdans."

"Moreover, the fact that Galbatorix's slaves were so easily able to overcome these riders might be disastrous to the morale of our troops when they think that our rider, although very powerful, is centuries younger than these august beings. That could be disastrous, and some of the new recruits that came when they learned we had a rider might slip away, leaving us with fewer men."

"Also, we must take into consideration that the dwarves, while never in direct enmity with the elves, might take the knowledge that they had withheld such great help from them entirely the wrong way. As I have heard, King Orik had a hard enough time to persuade them to help us. Some of the clans might break off if they hear about this, at worst, there could be a dwarven civil war!"

"I am sure that the other leaders and our good rider and dragon would agree that a dwarven civil war is one of the worst possible things that could happen. Do my fellow leaders concur?"

He is a long winded fellow. Saphira observed to Eragon.

Indeed.

Islanzadi, ever the short of speech, replied, "I concur with what my respected human friend has so, eloquently, put. It is not a good idea to tell the world of their death."

"I agree, although it does seem a pity to waste the news." Nasuada mused. "However, I think that we must, for the time being, keep it a secret."

"As we are agreed, then." Orrin said, "I have some matters to attend to. Are there any other items of business?"

“We are finished for the present.” Nasuada replied.

Orrin nodded. “Then, I will go attend to certain matters. If you would excuse me.” He bowed and walked out of the tent.

“I too must go, I will terminate this connection now.” Islanzadi said in her cold tone. She bowed into the mirror, and then the image disappeared.

Nasuada turned to Saphira and Eragon, neither of whom had spoken during the meeting. “Eragon, until we besiege Beletona, I would you to work on figuring out how to separate Galbatorix from his Eldunari hoard. I said nothing of this during the council, because although I have told Orrin about your masters, I have not told him about the Eldunari. I thought that secret should remain a secret, at least for the time being.”

“Indeed. Not just for the time being.” Eragon countered. “That is the greatest secret of the riders. It must be kept from common knowledge at all costs.”

“Of course. Do either of you have any ideas?”

“For the present, no.” Eragon replied.

“I understand. However, this is your first and foremost priority. You must separate him from them somehow! That is our only hope.”

“Saphira and I will do our best. However, there is something else that I wanted to talk to you about. People bring me worries and problems quite often, and usually I do not have time to help them. What if I had a day that anyone could come visit me? You do the same, and I believe it would be good for morale.”

Nasuada thought for a moment. “I think that it is an excellent idea. When do you want to have your first day?”

“How about tomorrow?”

“Excellent. I will spread the word among the Varden. Expect a big crowd tomorrow. The Varden will love this idea.”

Eragon nodded. “One other question. Where is Arya? I expected her to be at the council.”

“She has gone off for the day. She asked to be excused from the council. I think that she is still in mourning for the other dragon and rider.” Nasuada replied.

“Thank you. I will see you later then.” Eragon walked out of the tent as Saphira withdrew her head. He jumped on her immediately and they took off, much to the chagrin of his bodyguards.

What dull, boring meetings humans have! Saphira snorted. I don’t even know why they asked us to the council. We didn’t say a word.

Unfortunately, I think that we are more of a tool than an ally right now. Nasuada believes that I will do her every command, and I fear that she is getting to enjoy her power over me. I know that I should have her withdraw her command over me, but I fear that the move might create disastrous conflict. Eragon sighed.

It might. However, Eragon, think of this. We should be the lead dragon and rider. Neither Galbatorix nor Murtagh deserve that, and we know the greatest rider secrets that even they don’t know. Oromis and Glaedr did not claim the title of the lead rider and dragon, but even if they had, they are dead. We are the last free dragon and rider, but are we really free?

You have sworn fealty to Nasuada, you owe a great debt to the elves, and you are in a clan of the dwarves, thereby under Orik’s command! Each of the races has a hold over you, except the Urgals. If you are truly a Dragon Rider, then you should not answer to anyone but the Lead Rider, and you are the Lead Rider!

You are right in some ways, Saphira, Eragon replied, but the ties I have to each race binds me to them. A rider should not show favoritism to any race. I am tied with bonds that cannot be broken to each race. That is not a bad thing.

No, it is not. Saphira said. However, you are not only tied to the other races, you are under their control. Remember what Ajihad said. He told you that there would be a power struggle over you. You have been neatly drawn into swearing fealty to almost every race in the land.

Eragon was surprised at her hostility. I suppose you are right, but what was I to do? There was no other choice each time! I agree that I need to sever my bond of fealty to Nasuada, but what if she takes it the wrong way? I could alienate myself from the Varden!

Eragon, there is a time to worry about politics, and there is a time to do what you must. Why should you fear what will happen? If she tries to stop you, then it will show us that she is power-hungry.

I know, Saphira, but even though she wouldn’t dare openly oppose me, I don’t want her to be my enemy!

Nasuada is wise and cunning. If you present this to her the right way, she will understand. Eragon, you need to be decisive! Stop dithering around and do what must be done!

Eragon smiled. For the second time today, I come upon the impeccable logic of a dragon. You are right, as usual. I will talk to Nasuada. Now, how about you fly to Roran’s tent? I promised him that I would visit Katrina.

I will. Do not worry, you will learn wisdom yet, little one.

Eragon laughed. Is that supposed to be a complement?

It is what it is. He shook his head and was silent the rest of the way to Roran’s tent, which soon appeared. It was, after all, hard to argue with a dragon.

As Saphira glided in to landing, Eragon leaped off. Roran was waiting.

“Thank you for coming, Eragon. I am worried about Katrina. She was fine until a few days ago, and then the contractions started.”

“I will do what I can, Roran, although I do not know much about childbirth. I will put what knowledge I have to work, however.”

They entered the tent, where Katrina was lying on a bed. She turned to Eragon as he came in. “Eragon, thank you for coming. I asked Roran to see a healer to come, and he said that you were coming. Thank you.” She said in her soft voice.

“You are welcome, Katrina. I will do what I can.” As he spoke, Eragon probed his mind out. He could detect a second consciousness in her belly, but he could find nothing wrong with the baby. He moved on with his mind, but still could detect nothing.

Suddenly a thought came to his head. Impossible. Could it be? Aloud he said, "Katrina, do I have your permission to take a small bit of blood to analyze?"

She seemed startled, but she consented. "Yes, if you think it will help."

"Roran, do you have a cup or something to hold it in?" Eragon asked. His cousin looked confused, but brought him a small cup. Using magic, Eragon quickly made a small incision in her arm, got a small amount of blood, and purified and healed the wound. He then said several sentences in the Ancient Language that Oromis had taught him.

The results were clear. Katrina had been poisoned, but with what he did not know. Who would do such a horrible thing? He wondered. Trying to kill an innocent baby?

"Roran, could I speak to you for a moment outside?" He asked. Roran started to come with him, and as he looked back, he thought Katrina looked somewhat frightened.

His cousin grabbed his arm as they exited the tent. “Eragon, what is wrong?”

“Roran, I think that Katrina has been poisoned. With what, I don’t know, but the antidote needs to be found, and soon.”

A curse found its way from Roran’s lips as he contemplated the news. “What do we do?” he asked.

“First of all, tell Katrina that I need to consult an elf about what I think is wrong. It probably isn’t a good idea to tell her that she has been poisoned, it might be harmful to the baby. I will go consult the elf that might be able to know what is wrong. Do not worry, Roran. We will figure this out.”

Roran nodded. “I trust you. Go find the elf, and quickly.”

Saphira, let’s hurry! Eragon called mentally as he leaped on to her. They soared over the camp, intent on finding the elf in Eragon’s bodyguards that knew the most about healing.


Ohh, a well, semi-cliffhanger. Next chapter should come this evening or tomorrow morning.

This post has been edited by ptcruiser: 31 July 2009 - 12:32 PM

[gyerv59]

A good begining, like you said, its allitle slow, but your building. I was wondering if you were going to have erogan find oput about Rorans whipping?

[ptcruiser]

@ gyerv59: I'm not sure if I will have him find out or not. If he does, it will not be through Roran, Roran is too proud to tell Eragon about that.

Ok, I over one hundred views, but only two people have commented? Please, tell something you like or hate, critique, something!

I am building the plot and characters like I said, but we will see some action in a few chapters. Anyway, here is chapter 3.


Chapter 3:
An Eventful Evening

Saphira swooped over the camp, her sharp eyes searching while Eragon expanded his mind to search.

Saphira, try flying to where our tent is. They probably went back there. Eragon sighed. Blodhgarm will not be pleased that we went off without telling them where we were going.

And why should he care? We have no need of bodyguards, as you and they well know. I tire of them constantly following us around.

So do I, but Saphira, they have been given a mission: to protect us at all costs. They still feel the need to fulfill that mission, even though we need no protection. We should be a little more lenient with them. I suppose when I have time, I should explain things to Blodhgarm. It is easy to see that he is offended.

You are right, little one.

Saphira, land by our tent. I sense Blodhgarm’s mind. With a graceful flaring of her wings, Saphira glided into a perfect landing beside the tent. Eragon leaped off while she was still in the air, and went into a roll to absorb the shock. He was off the ground in an instant and running towards Blodhgarm.

Blodhgarm looked at him coldly. “Shadeslayer. It is kind of you to grace us with your presence.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for this now, Blodhgarm!” Eragon spoke in frustration. “I am sorry for leaving my bodyguards behind, but right now, I need Lunimeer. My cousin’s wife has been poisoned, and she is the best elf at healing. Where is she?”

Blodhgarm surveyed him for a moment, and motioned toward the small elven tents. “She is in the third to the right.”

“Thank you.” Eragon raced to the tent door. He entered and saw Lunimeer sitting on a bed off dry leaves, meditating. Her tent was normal for an elf, with little but a bow, arrows, and a short sword. However, from hooks along the tent wall hung many herbs, some dried, and some fresh. Lunimeer not only was a healer through magic, but she also knew what herbs were good for illness and wounds.

“Lunimeer, I am sorry to disturb your meditation.” Eragon said as she looked up. “My cousins wife has been poisoned, and I thought…”

“Of course. I will come at once.” She replied. “Do you have any idea what poison it is?” she spoke this as she gathered several herbs off the wall.

“No. However, she is pregnant, and it induces contractions. She is only three months pregnant, so it could be fatal to the child, and I do not know what side effects it has on her.”

“Let us go. I have what I need.”

“Good.” Eragon said. “We will fly on Saphira, it will be quicker.” He heard her give a small gasp, and figured that she had never flown.

Saphira, go easy. I doubt she has ever flown. Moments later they were winging their way across the camp to Roran’s tent.

Eragon, I sense great fear in you. What is so wrong? Saphira asked.

Saphira, even if Lunimeer can heal Katrina, if there is poison, then there is someone who planted the poison. That can mean one of two things. Either, someone is trying to hurt me through Roran, or someone is trying to hurt Roran. We need to know who, and why.

We will figure this out, Eragon. Perhaps Lunimeer will know what the antidote is.

Perhaps. But I did an extensive study on poisons when I was training with Oromis, and I never heard of something that induces contractions in pregnant women.

Eragon. Do you really think that you, after studying for a few months, would know ever poison there is? Lunimeer has been studying plants and healing for centuries. I’m sure she will know what to do. Saphira sent him comfort across the mental link, and pulled some of his worry out.

Thank you, Saphira.

When they arrived at Roran’s tent, Lunimeer turned to him. “I will not need you. It would be best if you did something else while I see if I can heal her.”

Eragon nodded as Roran came running out to meet them. “Roran, this is Lunimeer. She is a famed healer, and you can trust her completely.”

Roran nodded, and turned to Lunimeer. “Lunimeer, thank you for coming. Katrina is inside…”

Saphira shook her head as they went into the tent. Well Eragon, it seems we have the evening ahead of us. What should we do? We could fly again.

Yes, let us fly. Saphira, I think we need to find Arya.

Eragon, Saphira gently reminded him, you promised Arya you would not bother her.

I know, and I keep that promise. However, I am her friend, and it seems to me she has no one except you and I to share her grief with. You and I comfort each other, but who does she have in the camp? We should find her.

Saphira sighed through their mental link. I agree. Where do you expect to find Arya?

Where she loves to be most, in the middle of nature.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eragon and Saphira had searched long before they found her. In a small grove of trees, Eragon finally found her consciousness and told Saphira to land.

Saphira, would you wait here? Keep in contact though.

I will, little one. Be careful, though, and do not let your feelings get in the way of your friendship.

I will not. Don’t worry, Saphira, I only go to comfort her.

Eragon walked into the grove of trees with the quietness that only an elf could muster. Even his finely tuned ears could hear nothing but the whispering of a few small rodents. He could see why Arya had chosen the place. Rays of sunlight gleamed through the interwoven canopy of leaf-covered branches, and a peace seemed to hang over the place.

He had only walked a few steps before he found her. She sat on a mossy bank beside a small, slow-running stream. Her raven hair fell over her leather covered shoulders. The thin, elegant sword lay beside her. A tear-streaked face stared into the brook, and emerald pools looked as if they were about to add to the brook again.

Eragon was about to say something, but then he remembered when he had comforted Saphira in Ellsmera. Instead of saying something, he merely sat down beside her and likewise stared into the brook.

They sat like that for many minutes, in silence that was only broken by the quiet babbling of the stream. Finally, Arya broke the silence. “You didn’t have to come.”

Eragon said nothing, but continued to stare into the brook.

Arya did not speak again for another moment. Then, “How could they have died? Oh Eragon, when I was a child they comforted me when my father died. Oromis tried to reconcile me and my mother, although he failed. To all the elves, Oromis and Glaedr were a symbol of the past, the glory and also the tragedy of it. They were the last link to the peace of old. Call it a broken symbol, or twisted if you will, but they gave the elves hope.”

“The elves did not see Oromis’s seizures, nor Glaedr’s missing leg. They saw a symbol of what was, and what was to come. When they decided to leave the forest, the entire elven nation rejoiced. And now, they are dead, snuffed out in minutes by that cursed traitor Murtagh and his twisted dragon. Oh, how I hate them. They have taken the elves symbol of hope.”

Eragon was surprised at her hatred. I hope that it does not continue. Murtagh and Thorn were not completely responsible for what they did. Galbatorix controlled them.

“Arya,” Eragon said. “I know that you and the entire elven nation is grieving, as Saphira and I are, but let me tell you something that Saphira told me. Oromis and Glaedr lived a long life. They died doing what they wanted to do.”

“Look at me, Arya.” Arya turned to him and stared deep into his eyes. “Do you think that Oromis and Glaedr would have wanted you to hate their killers? When I saw the battle through Glaedr’s eyes, I saw only regret from both of them for what they planned to do. They pitied Murtagh and Thorn, as do I. Oromis and Glaedr did not want to be mourned, they knew that it was likely that they would die, but they did their duty, as we should.”

“Who are you to speak of duty to me?” Arya said with a ferocity that surprised even Eragon. “I have done my duty to Alagaesia by transporting the egg. I have given everything to this war, and it has taken everything from me. Duty! My mother spoke of duty, as did Brom. If I had never ferried the egg, I would still have my mate. I would be happy.”

“Do you really believe that, Arya?” Eragon said softly, tears forming in his eyes. “This war has taken everything from me also, but I must hope. If I did not, I would go mad. Think. If you had not ferried the egg, Saphira never would have hatched for me. Would you truly be happy knowing that you had the chance to do something great, and did not because you were afraid of what you would lose?”

Arya was silent, and Eragon continued. “Oromis and Glaedr did what they knew was right, no matter the cost. The question is, will you? Or will you wallow in grief? I do not say this to offend you, but as your friend.”

So silently that Eragon barely heard it, Arya said, “But I am alone. There is no one now. I am alone.”

“No Arya. You are not alone. You have me and Saphira, and Glaedr is still alive. Never say that you are alone when you have friends.”

“Thank you, Eragon.” She whispered. They sat silent until the moon rose over the land, supporting each other as friends.





Next chapter will be a Roran POV. We might, just might see action.

This post has been edited by ptcruiser: 30 July 2009 - 05:43 PM

[golden glaedr]

Cool! This is an exciting story. I'll try and post after every update.

[Lord Murphy]

Okay, this is a pretty good story for you starting out but like most stories you need to add more detail. It is not terriblly lacking in detail but it could still use some work. It was like all of a sudden Katrina was poisened. We need to know more about it.

As for the people saying that it is too slow. Don't listen to them. I think that you are doing a pretty good pace. Most people go way to fast when they are starting off a new story. You seem to be remembering a lot of the key elements and that is good.

One thing that I think you could do better on is your diolouge. It needs to have a little more. All of the desicions seem to be fast. Where as in the book entire pages can be taken up by a single person.

Lastly post count and views. A lot of people tend to check out a new story and that is probably why you have that many views. But a lot of the people that read the stories are not members. Even the members that read these stories do not always post. If 10% of the people posted all of the time I would be surprised. So keep up the good work. PM me if you have any questions or if you need help with anything in the future.

[DuBrisingerShurtugal]

Hey sorry for not posting for a while I've been staying on becreative most of the time.

This new chapter was good though I agree with pmurphy. In CP's book Nasuada or someone with that importance took up about one and half pages in meeting and they lasted for a long time but yours seem like it lasted about five minutes. Thats all I do for critque. do you have a c-level yet? I haven't seen it in your post.
Can't wait till your next update,
DBS

[ptcruiser]

Thanks for the comments, everybody. pmurphy21, could you be a little more specific about where I am lacking in detail? I know that the meeting was kind of fast, but I had a little trouble with that. If I have time today, I will edit Katrina's poisoning and the council.

I will work on that stuff, and I should have the next chapter up sometime today. Roran POV next.

Edit: DBS, I thought that they had discontinued C-levels. I will read the rules again.

This post has been edited by ptcruiser: 31 July 2009 - 09:21 AM

[ptcruiser]

Ok, I did some editing, so you might want to go back and reread chapter 2.

Here is chapter 4:

Chapter 4:
Possible?

Roran felt as if he were about to go mad. Katrina was poisoned, and the elf could do nothing. He had not seen Eragon since the night before, and the elf had only said that she was doing all she could.

He felt like screaming in frustration. Katrina had been his help, by his side. It was for her and the baby that he had performed such incredible acts. And now, with their lives in jeopardy, he could do nothing. He shook his head in frustration at the thought. He had no power over what would happen.

But Roran knew he had to do something. He walked into his tent and motioned for Lunimeer to come over.

“Will she be all right if I leave for a few hours?”

Lunimeer nodded. “Yes. I gave her something to make her sleep, and something to slow the poison.”

Roran looked over at his for the moment peacefully sleeping wife. She looked so beautiful, lying there. In his mind, he thought, I will be back soon, my love.

“Thank you.” Roran said to the elf. He strode out of the tent and with purpose made his way to the training grounds. He felt like bashing heads with his hammer, and since there was a not a battle going on, a blunt sword would have to do.

He arrived and went straight to the weapons tent. A large field had been marked off for warriors training, and surrounding it were several tents that held armor, dulled swords, and shields. Roran selected a short hand-and-a-half sword with a broad blade and a round shield. He then walked out on the training field.

An instructor walked up to him. “Stronghammer, have you come to spar with someone?”

“No,” Roran replied. “I have come to challenge anyone who wants to challenge me. Would you announce it, please?”

The instructor’s face showed surprise, but he spread the word that the famed Stronghammer would spar with anyone who challenged him. In almost no time, a line of veteran, and also young, proud warriors formed. A crowd began to gather. There were at least ten challengers.

The instructor asked, “Stronghammer, how many will you spar with?”

“All of them. All of them at once.”

“What?”

“I said all of them. All of them at once.”

There was much whispering when the news was told. Even the mighty Stronghammer could not compete against that many men at once! The crowd grew larger.

Roran felt adrenaline pump through his blood. He was one against seven, several had withdrawn when they heard that the fight was not to be one on one. He surveyed his opponents. Against that many, I need to be quick. I can’t let them surround me.

The gong rang, and three immediately charged him, while the other four began to circle him. Roran calculated. One had a longsword, one a sword and shield, and one a large, blunt axe. Instead of waiting for them to meet him, he charged with a battle roar. He blocked the blow of the battle axe with his shield, ducked a sword thrust, and drove his sword into the stomach of the man with the longsword. A blow that would have killed with a sharp sword was counted as a killing blow.

One down, six left.

The man with the battle axe swung, and with a resounding crash it slammed into Roran’s shield.

Blast, he’s strong.

Roran parried two sword blows, and then dodged the battle axe. The force of the blow drove the axe into the ground, and as Roran blocked another sword blow with his shield, he held his sword up to the man’s neck.

“Dead.” He said.

Two down, five to go.

With only one of the original three, it was easy to dispatch the other man. He fell when the blunt sword smashed into his helmet with a resounding thud.

Three down, four to go.

Roran knew that the next would not be an easy fight. The four remaining were the veterans who hoped to have a one on one fight with him. He was right. They approached him one by one.

The first was easy. He swung with a longsword, but was a little over-eager. Roran dodged easily and slammed his training sword into the man’s stomach.

Four down, three to go.

The next was not so easy. He bore a shield similar to Roran’s and a one-hand sword. They traded blows for many minutes, and Roran began to get frustrated. Neither could overcome the other. If I had my hammer, he’d be dead right now.

With a roar, he rained ferocious blows down upon the man, who blocked them with his shield. Roran waited for his opportunity, and when it came, he slammed his shield into the man’s face and while he was knocked down, he pointed his sword at his throat.

“Dead.”

Five down, two to go.

Roran was drenched in sweat, but adrenaline surged through him at a faster rate than before. He hated killing people in battle, but there was a fierce joy that he could not keep at bay when he fought. It came surging upon him like a flood, and he lifted his sword in challenge.

He surveyed the next challenger. This man bore an enormous two-handed claymore, which matched his giant frame. The sword was at least five feet in length, and the blade was three inches thick at the hilt.

Whoa.

Roran’s first mental survey proved correct as the claymore crashed into his shield with a force that felt as if it would break his arm. He staggered back and swung his sword. The man batted it away as if it were a fly, and retaliated with a swing that almost knocked him to the ground. Roran backed away, mind racing.

Two more times he blocked the monster sword, and then an idea came to him. He slipped his arm out of his shield, and hurled it at the man with all his strength. It gave him a small advantage, and he took it. With both hands on his sword, Roran swung with all his strength, putting everything into every blow. The man was caught off guard, and backstepped, trying to regain the offensive.

Roran dodged a weak blow and swung his sword down, knocking the claymore out of the man’s hand. He flipped his sword up to the man’s throat and gasped, “Dead.”

Six down, one to go.

The crowd roared. At first they were doubtful, but now they cheered. “Stronghammer, Stronghammer!”

Roran acknowledged their cheering with a nod, and turned to his last opponent. The man had no armor on, and he bore two short swords, which he twirled with deadly ease. To Roran’s surprise, he did not attack at once, but waited for Roran to catch his breath. Roran nodded his thanks, his lungs were pumping like the bellows in Horst’s blacksmith shop.

When he had caught his breath, he picked up his shield and raised his sword in challenge. The man crossed his swords in an X and walked towards Roran.

This is going to be a totally different fight. Roran thought. The man obviously relied more on speed and cunning than brute strength.

When only ten feet separated the combatants, they charged and met with a clash of steel and a flurry of blows. Roran was immediately on the defensive. The man was a whirlwind, twirling his swords in a blinding flash of cold steel. Roran used both shield and sword to block, but he knew he could not last for long. The man was too fast.

His mind raced as he tried to formulate a plan. Slowly it came to him. The man was fast, and his blows precise, but they did not pack much power. With that in mind, Roran jumped back out of the way, and for a split second, he had time to swing. With all the force in his arm, he swung at the man. His opponent blocked the swing, but Roran’s strength was to great. The sword went spinning out of his hand.

Roran smiled. The fight was as good as over. The man grasped his remaining sword with both hands, and prepared in the ready position, waiting for Roran to make the first move. Roran dropped his shield and grasped his sword with both hands likewise. For a moment, they stood there, motionless.

Bellowing like a wild bull, Roran suddenly attacked. The man met his swing with equal strength, and pushed him back.

What?

His opponent obviously knew just as much about this kind of fighting as the other. He was a master, his blade moving in precise strokes designed to keep Roran guessing. Roran wished he had kept his shield.

He blocked two blows, and then swung upward, a hard blow to stop. The man twisted to parry the blow, and once again, Roran had an opening. With all his strength, he swung the blade into the man’s arm. There was a cracking sound, and the man dropped his sword and clutched his arm, groaning.

With almost careless ease, Roran put his sword to the man’s throat.

“Dead.” He spoke in triumph. The crowd erupted into universal cheering. The mighty Stronghammer had once again produced an amazing feat, and they were in awe.

“Go find a healer and heal your wound. Are you all right?” Roran asked the man, concern in his eyes.

The man looked at him, defeat and wonder in his eyes, and said, “I am all right, at least once I find a healer. Stronghammer, you are one crazy fighter. Where did you learn to fight so daringly?”

Roran grinned. “It runs in the family.”

The man shook his head and walked off to find a healer magician. The instructor walked up to Roran. “Stronghammer,” he said, “I have never in all my life seen fighting like that. But, Stronghammer, are you all right…”

Roran stared at him. The sun beat down on him. He shook his head. The man was, spinning. Upside down. Roran gave one last thought, and knew no more.

Edit: Please, if you comment, tell me what you think of the battle scene. I really need critique on it.

This post has been edited by ptcruiser: 01 August 2009 - 03:27 PM

[Brisingr Shade]

I liked this chapter, it showed how Roran has progressed, and I think it was well described. Just 2 things:

-The "x down, x to go" was repeated quite frequently. I think it would have been better if you had skips in between. Like "One down, six to go", then descriptions of Roran beating three people, and skip straight to "Four down, three to go". Or something like that.

-Wouldn't the men have attacked all at once? It seemed like they were fighting Roran one by one.

Overall, I like this story. It's a lot better than anything I could write.

[ptcruiser]

I liked this chapter, it showed how Roran has progressed, and I think it was well described. Just 2 things:

-The "x down, x to go" was repeated quite frequently. I think it would have been better if you had skips in between. Like "One down, six to go", then descriptions of Roran beating three people, and skip straight to "Four down, three to go". Or something like that.

-Wouldn't the men have attacked all at once? It seemed like they were fighting Roran one by one.

Overall, I like this story. It's a lot better than anything I could write.

Thanks. I put the x down, x to go for emphasis, but I might take some of them out. And the reason they didn't all attack at once was, the first three weren't veterans, they just wanted to beat the heck out of Roran. The other one's were hoping that he would beat everybody else, they wanted to prove they could win in one on one with such a famed warrior, and Eragon's cousin at that. That is why the last three, although they attacked one at a time, were so hard to beat. They were some of the best warriors in the Varden. Maybe I should edit that a little to make it more clear.

On another note, a chapter might be up this evening, but most likely not till tomorrow. The next is another Roran POV, and then chapter six is an Eragon POV.

[Lord Murphy]

I thought that it was pretty good for your first fight scene. One thing that I was talking about with detail is things like at the start of the last chapter. I did not see you describe one thing. You said how people were feeling but not their expressions. Talk about how Roran's eyebrows furrowed in frustration when the elf said there was nothing more to do. When he walked out of the tent say how the tent flap swished in the wind or how it brushed against him. It is not big important things but it will make the book much better.

I think that you have shown much improvement in the last chapter compared to the previous ones. If you take your time and re-read it(I know how much it sucks, even I rarely re-read a piee of my own work) your chapters will do much better.

As usual let me know if you need help with anything or have any questions about what I have said.

[ptcruiser]

pmurphy, that is EXACTLY the kind of critique I wanted. Thank you. I will do some work on that part. And, I know this might sound like Newb question , but, how exactly do you PM someone? Does it have to do with the send message, recieve message part in My Controls?

Anyway, thank you for the critique. And to everybody else, the next chapter probably won't be up till this afternoon/evening.

Edit: Nevermind, I think I figured it out.

Edit2: Sorry everybody, no update tonight.

This post has been edited by ptcruiser: 01 August 2009 - 08:23 PM

[ptcruiser]

Here is chapter 5, sorry for the wait.

Chapter 5:
A Fallen Captain

“Bah. He is fine. The man has had no water, and fought out in the hot sun. Men. He probably hasn’t eaten yet either.”

Roran shook his head as the world around him came into focus. Several people that he did not know were staring at him with concern. The woman talking looked familiar… Roran finally placed her. It was Angela, the herbalist. “What, what happened?” he asked.

“You passed out, after acting like an idiot and fighting without drinking any water beforehand.” Angela stated curtly. “You, of all people should know better! Ah, being Eragon’s cousin, you must have some of his foolish blood.”

“How do you know I am Eragon’s cousin?” Roran asked. He was stilling trying to place the events of the past few hours.

“I will not tell you how I know, that would be like a magician revealing magic. However, let me tell you this, everyone in the Varden that knows anything knows who you are. Now, sip this.” She said, giving him a cup of water.

Roran did so, and felt much better as the cool liquid traveled down his parched throat. He looked around him. The crowd, once they found that he was all right, had quickly dispersed. “Thank you.” He said, handing the cup back to her.

“You are welcome, if you wish to be.” She said tartly. In a somewhat curious tone, Angela continued. “Whatever possessed you to take on all those men? Wouldn’t one at a time have done?”

“No.” Roran said darkly, not offering any other explanation. He could see she was about ready to burst with curiosity, but he had just remembered. Katrina. Oh, Katrina. What do I do? That didn’t help you, it didn’t help me either. His feelings, which had been kept at bay during the battle, came rushing back to him like a flood.

“Roran Stronghammer, is something wrong?” Angela asked him.

“Nothing you could help with.” He said. “But wait. You are an herbalist, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“Do you know of a poison that induces contractions in pregnant women?”

She looked at him in a strange way. “Why do you ask?”

“My wife has been poisoned with that.”

Angela looked at him with sudden wonder. “So that’s what he wanted!” she cried, more to herself than any other. “Solembum was right! I knew I should have listened to that werecat!”

Roran was now thoroughly confused. “What?”

She turned to him, triumph in her eyes. “Ha. A man came to my tent. He was in a hurry, he said his wife was having a baby, and he needed something to induce labor. I didn’t like his looks, and neither did Solembum. However, I gave him the stuff because I had no proof. But it looks like Solembum was right.”

Roran’s mouth went suddenly dry again. “And what was this man’s name?”

The herbalist thought for a moment. “He was that captain that got demoted. Edric, I think his name was.”

Roran tasted bile.

Edric.

The man who had given foolish orders. The man that put Roran down. The man that he had disobeyed. The man that had chastised him for saving the entire company. The man who, indirectly, was responsible for fifty lashes of pain.

Edric.

And Roran knew, knew without a shadow of a doubt, that if anything happened to Katrina or the baby, Edric would die.

Reality suddenly came back to him. “Is there an antidote?” he said, voice filled with hope.

“Of course there is. There is an antidote for every poison, you just have to find it. Remember that. I’ll go get it and meet you at your tent.”

Roran was about to ask how she knew where his tent was, but she was already dashing off, muttering to herself. “Solembum, you were right. Solembum, you were right again. An antidote for every poison. Mushrooms, that’s it! I have found it.”

He shook his head. Is the woman crazy? Although rage was still in him at Edric, joy over came him. There is an antidote. Katrina will be all right, and so will the baby! Aloud, he yelled, “YES!”, making quite a few people stare at him strangely.

Weariness forgotten, Roran dashed off toward his tent. He felt like a boy again, racing Eragon through the woods. A horse reared and started trying to buck its rider as Roran dashed right under his nose.

Roran hurtled a campfire, and screams of rage from an old woman added to the normal clamor of the Varden, but he never looked back. Finally, he was almost to his tent, when he bowled into a burly man.

The man groaned, Roran was now lying on top of him. Roran gave one look, and shook his hand. “Horst, isn’t it wonderful?” Without stopping for a reply, Roran dashed off once more towards his tent.

Horst looked after him strangely. “What has gotten in to him?” he wondered aloud. He shook his head and continued on his way.

Roran burst into his tent. “Katrina, we have an antidote!”

She looked at him with total confusion. “What?”

Roran could not say anymore. He sat down on the bed and kissed her, joy in his heart. “You and the baby will be fine, my love.”

“Does Eragon know what is wrong?” she asked.

“No. But someone else does.”

Angela came bustling through the door as he was about to tell her about it. “Out. Now. Shoo! Come back later. Go see that Edric fellow. I will heal her.”

Lunimeer had watched the proceedings with an expressionless face. Now she walked up. “What exactly do you know about healing?” she said, with an obvious condescending attitude.

“Most likely a lot more than you do.” Angela replied. “Bah. Magic using elves. Only herbs can combat this poison. Toadstoo… excuse me, frogstools to be exact.”

Roran ignored them as they began to argue about different herbs. “I have to go now. I have a matter to attend to.” And his brow darkened as he said so. “Angela the herbalist and Lunimeer will take care of you and heal you. I will be back soon.”

He pecked her on the cheek and strode out of the tent door, shoving aside the flap with a kind of ferocity. Rage was beginning to form in his eyes, and his hands worked as if itching to grip the neck of a certain someone.

“Edric.” The name was bitter on his tongue, and he spat as he said it. “That cold-blooded idiot. That fiend. He will pay for this.”

Roran walked purposely toward Nasuada’s tent. He arrived, and two Nighthawks, and Urgal and a human, crossed their spears in front of the doorway. “State your name and business.” The man said.

“Roran Stronghammer, to see Lady Nasuada on a private matter.”

“One moment please.” The man walked into the tent, while the Urgal looked warily at Roran. Although Roran’s name was well known, and he had visited Nasuada before, the Nighthawks took no chances.

The man returned. “You are admitted. Go on in.”

Roran nodded his thanks and with a purposeful stride entered the ornate tent. Several chairs sat tidily at the edge of the tent wall, and a large, well-oak desk sat at the center. Lady Nasuada sat behind this, dressed in a long wine red dress.

She dispensed with most usual pleasantries. “Stronghammer. To what event do I owe this unexpected visit?”

Roran gave a grim smile. He watched as shock appeared on her face as he told his tale.

For a moment, she was silent. Finally, she said, “Roran, I believe you. However, not everyone else will. Some will think you are trying to gain attention with a false story. Will Angela and the elf testify that this is true?”

“I believe they will.”

“Good.” She signaled one of her guards. “Send two Nighthawks to arrest former captin Edric, and send a messenger to get Angela the herbalist and,” here she looked at Roran.

“Lunimeer.” He supplied.

“Thank you. Lunimeer the elf. They are located at Roran Stronghammer’s tent. Bring them here if possible.”

“As you wish, my lady.” The man dashed off to perform his instructions. Lady Nasuada turned to Roran. “Roran, we will hold a trial immediately. Such a despicable act has tarnished the Varden.”

Roran said nothing, his mind had already faded back to memories, memories of when he had first seen Katrina.

He was suddenly startled out of his reverie. Lunimeer and Angela stood in the tent, and two Nighthawks dragged in a kicking and cursing figure. “Let me go! I have done nothing wrong!”
The man said.

A haze formed over Roran’s eyes, and his breath quickened. Almost without thinking he walked forward. He could feel his hands closing around the man’s neck, and he squeezed. A choking sound came to his attention, but he heeded it not.

Shouts rang in the back round. Hands gripped him and tore him off his enemy. The haze began to fade, and his senses returned. Edric was lying on the floor, gasping for air, his face purple.

The moment he got his breath, he glared at Roran. “You.” He gasped. “You. You disobeyed my orders, but because you are the rider’s cousin, you got off free, and I got demoted. I watched though. I watched your whipping, and every one of those lashes gave me pleasure. It wasn’t enough though. I made you suffer. Your wife and baby will die!” he choked on his words, and they faded into a maniacal laugh.

The viewers in the room were stunned by his words. Angela whispered to herself. “Mad, he is. Mad. Mad as a rabbit.”

Nasuada stood. “I think we have enough evidence. That was as good as a confession. Edric, I hereby sentence you to death by hanging for the attempted murder of Roran Stronghammer’s wife and baby.”

Roran suddenly wondered if this was right. The man was guilty of attempted murder, but he was obviously mad. No, he thought, Edric is guilty. He is guilty for letting himself become mad, and he could do much more harm. This sentence is just.

As Roran thought these thoughts, one thought now invaded his mind. Katrina will be all right.

Edit: Sorry, I forgot to put the italics in some places. I just put them in.

Edit2: Since I have some time today, the next chapter should be up tonight or tomorrow morning.

This post has been edited by ptcruiser: 04 August 2009 - 10:30 AM