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[Elrik Konun]

Epoch trotted up to the gates of Terim and smiled at the guards, "Jessy, haven't you got a real job yet?"
The guard he spoke to laughed heartily, "Well if it isn't the grand adventurer Epoch. How've you been you old dog!"
Epoch smiled, "I've been good. You gunna let me in?"
"Of course! Go on!"
Epoch waved as he passed on through the gates on his horse and headed to the stables where another old friend stored his horse. He decided to go shopping and headed to the plaza.

[Fadriendel Augcastil]

Ietoro, the only Elvish Rider in the Empire and one of Galbatorix's most powerful vassals, had been pitifully reduced to a tax collector. With Murtagh's return to Uru'Baen, Fadriendel had been immediately dispatched to whatever job had yet to be done. Fadriendel was assigned to visit some of the wealthiest Merchants to collect their large sums of tax money personally.

This is a job for soldiers, not a rider. He thought bitterly, as he left the home of a merchant whom actually cried when Fadriendel cleaned out almost all of the money in his Safe box.

Why would he do this? Have I not served him well?

"You should already know why." Kael said, barging in on his thoughts, "He does not want you and Murtagh together."

Why would he not want us together? Neither of us have plans to overthrow him.

"I do not know why."

Fadriendel sighed inwardly, and rearranged his sweeping black robes, and raised his black veil higher so that only his eyes would be exposed.

Where are you, Kael? Fadriendel said suddenly.

"I am hunting. Do you need me?"

No, you may continue.

Fadriendel and Kael broke the connection as Fadriendel turned into the market. He had learned from the last man that one of the men on his list was working in his shop in the market. Fadriendel had every intention of causing a scene at his job, and embarrassing him. He had every intention of getting some pleasure out of this silly, juvenile "mission".

Fadriendel swept in the large store and past a blonde haired, green-eyed young man whom he gazed at with vague interest as he made his way towards the tottery old merchant, who was making small talk with a customer as he took an order.

"Good Morning." Fadriendel said in a harsh, grinding voice.

The old man looked up. He recognized Ietoro's eyes through the slit between his cowl and veil, and began to panic. He had not done anything to incur the King's wrath, why had be sent a Rider to accost him?

"G-Good Morning? How may I help you, Sir Ietoro?"

"I have been sent on behalf of King Galbatorix, Lord of Alagaesia, to collect from you...(He looked at the list in his hand)...One-thousand, seven-hundred and eighty-two gold pieces for taxes on this establishment, and another five-hundred pieces for a donation toward the War Against the Varden. I will be taking it, today. If you don't have the full amount at hand, I am authorized to take it from your private stores, or repossess your property until the debt is paid." He boomed.

As expected, many customers looked up and craned their necks to see what had transpired.

"What?! I-I don't have that much money! Is there any way I could...make payments?" The old man said, shrinking under Ietoro's gaze.

"Tsk, Tsk. I had hoped you wouldn't say that. I could break it into three payments for you, however..."

"What? Please don't hurt my family." The man said quietly.

"No harm will come to you. However, you will required to pay a fee of three-hundred gold pieces."

The man looked devastated, but there was nothing he could do.

There goes my daughter's wedding...again. He thought.

"Very well." the old man said. He turned and went into the back to retrieve what money he could, a tear ran down his wrinkled cheek.

Fadriendel turned back towards the customers when the old man left. They immediately went back to their business. Fadriendel thingyed his head slightly when he locked eyes with the blonde man again.

[Elrik Konun]

Epoch stared at Fadriendel unflinchingly. He looked deep into the rider's cold merciless eyes, and then smiled. He approached him with a strange jump in his step and said, "Why, I couldn't help but over hear. It seems that you are asking for donations to the army in order to help fight against the Varden. Why, I was under the impression that the Varden wasn't a threat, but now you're telling us that the empire can't handle it? Is the king in over his head?" He tried hard to supress his grin. He enjoyed messing with the epmire's troops, and this one was bound to be fun. He also didn't plan on letting him put that poor old man out of buisness. (uh, are you allowed to be a rider? Your profile says peasant.)

[Fadriendel Augcastil]

(( All profiles say peasant until you reach 100 posts. You should probably read someone's profile before you ask a question about their rank. ))

Fadriendel watched as the young man walked up to him with an insolent look on his face. He could tell by the hop in his step that he intended to heckle him. He would have broken the young man's legs on his way over, but, he had promised his King not to harm anyone unless it was necessary.

"Why, I couldn't help but overhear. It seems that you are asking for donations to the army in order to help fight against the Varden. Why, I was under the impression that the Varden wasn't a threat, but now you're telling us that the empire can't handle it? Is the king in over his head?"

Fadriendel smiled, yet it could not be seen beneath his veils. His eyes did sparkle, however.

"Those terrorists are not a threat to our King's unlimited power. However, if you must know, this man offered to help finance the Imperial troops, when his business license was issued. It would be unfair for him to renege on his promise. He should be proud that his small donation is going towards the effort to make our land a safer place to live. As a matter of fact, you should all be as loyal as this man to your King and your country!" Ietoro said loudly, so that everyone could hear.

He lowered his face then, and addressed Epoch directly.

"You are quite the facetious one, aren't you? You would do best to keep your nose out of adults' business. What is your name, child?" Ietoro asked.

[Elrik Konun]

He could not help but grin as the man spoke, "Child?" he responded, "Why good sir my name is Epoch, and I am but a humble citizen in this fine kingdom. In fact I am a lowly stupid man, who is still quite confused. You see what I heard," he leaned in closer and lowered to a whisper, "What I heard, was that the Varden have found a new rider. A strong one at that. Shadeslayer they call him. Now if you tell me that that is true, I will be glad to donate funds to the army, for such a horrendous foe may harm our well being." He said, and as he spoke the words, he examined Fadriendel's face, for any hint of reaction. ((My mistake. Just checking.))

[Fadriendel Augcastil]

Fadriendel's eyes narrowed when the young man first insulted himself, then leaned in.

"What I heard, was that the Varden have found a new rider. A strong one at that. Shadeslayer they call him. Now if you tell me that that is true, I will be glad to donate funds to the army, for such a horrendous foe may harm our well being."

Fadriendel was shocked that the boy had spoken of Eragon Shadeslayer. He had, of course, heard of him, first from King Galbatorix, then from Murtagh. Murtagh didn't actually tell him about Eragon, but he made a Fairth of him for Fadriendel to see, which explained enough. He learned that Eragon had completed the full transformation of a human rider in a disturbingly short amount of time. This being the case, He knew that one day he would have to face him on the battlefield. Eragon would be physically stronger than Fadriendel, perhaps, but Fadriendel had ways of wielding Camthalion that would fell Eragon in seconds. Not to mention he could level a small town without causing irreversible damage to himself. He pondered Eragon's fiercely beautiful face in the Fairth for a moment before focusing his gaze back onto Epoch.

"You need not worry about your well-being, youngling, whilst I and my King still draw breath. That traitor will be dead long before the snow begins to fall. I..." Fadriendel said irritably, then broke off.

"Hurry up!" He shouted, turning back towards where the elderly man had retreated. There was a tiny sqeak, and the sound of boxes falling.

Although his face was covered, Fadriendel looked uncomfortable with the situation.

[Elrik Konun]

Epoch became serious. Fadriendel has just confirmed the rider's existance. There was hope. "So he does exist? That's interesting. Very interesting," he looked over to the pathetic old man as he scrumaged for money, then turned back to Fadriendel with a new idea, 'two birds with one stone,' he thought to himself.
"Good sir, I have a proposition for you. This old man," whom he had never met, "Is like a father to me. I have known him for years, and would hate to see him financially fall apart because of a doubt of loyalty to the empire. In exchange for not making him pay, I will join the kings guard. Your news has inspired me that my country needs me, and surely another soldier to fight the good fight is worth more than an old man's savings."

[Gildor]

clink clink

The sound of coins being dropped into his money pouch roused Gildor from his trance. He was listening so intently to the conversation of the two men inside that he almost forgot to keep up his blind-beggar-act. The grip on his staff tightened at the sound of falling boxes and yelping, and he shifted nervously from his position outside the entrance of the large shop.

He thought Teirm would be a good place to stay while keeping a sharp ear out for any news of trouble the Empire might be brewing up, but he never thought he would be so lucky (or unfortunate) as to cross path's with the king's own personal, "little killer." Well, it seemed he was busy being the king's personal, "little tax collector," today. Odd.

Gildor tugged lightly at his blindfold to make sure it covered his eyes as well as the tips of his pointed ears, and pulled the hood of his ragged black cloak closer about his face as discretely as he possibly could. What was the infamous Oro doing tax collecting? Had the Empire really run out of people for him to assassinate? The more he thought about it, the more absurd the situation seemed, and Gildor had to swallow quietly and bite his tongue to keep himself from grinning. Though in all seriousness, there was one Empire Rider he didn't want trouble with, and that was the one inside the shop he was sitting next to. As he reinforced his mind with an extra layer of stone-hard barriers, he silently hoped that the man speaking with him, this Epoch, would hush his comments about the Varden and Eragon Shadeslayer and keep Oro engaged in conversation through other means... Although by other means, he certainly hadn't hoped he would volenteer himself to serve in the king's army, the fool. If very man serving the king was worth more than one-thousand, seven-hundred and eighty-two gold pieces to the Empire, the army would be considerably smaller.

[Fadriendel Augcastil]

"Good sir, I have a proposition for you. This old man, is like a father to me. I have known him for years, and would hate to see him financially fall apart because of a doubt of loyalty to the empire. In exchange for not making him pay, I will join the kings guard. Your news has inspired me that my country needs me, and surely another soldier to fight the good fight is worth more than an old man's savings."

Ietoro gazed at Epoch for a moment in stunned silence.

Is he serious? Fadriendel thought.

Unable to hold himself, Ietoro burst in laughter. His entire facade was forgotten, and the room was filled with a moment of melodic, laughter. Ietoro stifled it quickly, then looked at Epoch, his cold composure once again regained.

"I think you've sorely over-estimated your worth, my boy. I would take you to the King to see if you're...worthy...of such a prestigious position as part of the King's guard, however, you, i'm afraid are worth no more, than...perhaps...sixteen or seventeen gold pieces. At least for the services you've offered." Ietoro said.

Ietoro's smile widened beneath his veil. "A blind man could see that. As a matter of fact..."

Ietoro swept past Epoch and walked outside the shop. He couldn't wait to further embarrass the boy, as he grabbed the blind beggar he had seen earlier around the bicep, and pulled him into the shop, dropping a few gold pieces into his bag as he did so.

"Come with me please." He said as politely as his harsh voice would allow.

He began to pull the beggar in Epoch's direction.

"Come here, boy."

-

The Old Man finally emerged from the back room, he had taken longer than he meant to, because he wanted to make sure that his face was clean of tears before he faced Oro again. He looked shocked; Oro was striding towards a young man he didn't recognize, half-dragging a blind-beggar.

What's he doing? The man thought as he cradled the heavy back of money in his arms.

-

"Stop this! Now! You are making a fool of yourself." Kael snapped suddenly in Fadriendel's mind.

I have nothing better to do. I happen to take pleasure in destroying a man's self-esteem. Do you remember Dansel? This boy is much worse. Fadriendel thought.

"He is...but you should not be so juvenille. You are an elf!"

Fadriendel closed his mind completely with such powerful barriers, that Kael could not contact him at all.

(( To avoid making a short and pointless post on my part, unless Gildor decides to struggle, you can just pretend that Ietoro asked him to feel Epoch's bicep and tell him whether or not he thought he was worth more than sixteen gold pieces as a soldier. ))

[Gildor]

"Now really, I don't think this is necessary-" Gildor started to say with careful protest as he was dragged inside, though he hardly tried to resist. He knew better than to try to force himself away from the rider's strong grip. He certainly hadn't wanted to get mixed up in this, but now that he was, perhaps it was best if he just went along with it. Maybe then he'd get away without revealing his race or identity, or anything else important.

Even so, he was also inwardly eager to get back at Fadriendel for quite literally dragging him into this mess... but not eager enough to do anything too stupid. Yet.

Pocketing his coin pouch, Gildor reluctantly did as he was told and reached for Epoch's upper arm. After running his fingers down the muscle and giving his bicep a light squeeze, he put his hand to his chin thoughtfully.

"Hm. He is skilled with a bow... and a sword," he stated, though quickly added, "but so are many men in the King's guard," to avoid any unwanted hostilities. It was obvious this young man was worth much more than a meer sixteen gold pieces, but again, to appease Oro, Gildor answered with what he wanted to hear: "Worth maybe seventeen... or ninteen-and-a-half."

He couldn't help but muttering it in a manner that clearly revealed a lack of honesty.

[Elrik Konun]

Epoch had not anticipated Ietoro's method of testing him, but nonetheless, allowed the apparently blind man to examine his bicep.
"Hm. He is skilled with a bow... and a sword," he stated, though quickly added, "but so are many men in the King's guard," to avoid any unwanted hostilities. It was obvious this young man was worth much more than a mere sixteen gold pieces, but again, to appease Ietoro, Gildor answered with what he wanted to hear: "Worth maybe seventeen... or nineteen-and-a-half."
Epoch heard the lack of honesty in the man's voice, but knew that it would not be noted. Instead he turned back to Ietoro and smiled, "Well I suppose you are right good sir. And I congratulate the empire on its amazing method for testing soldiers. The size of a bicep, I can also see how an urgal would beat out an elf any day. I mean, come on, take your pic, any urgal is bound to have larger muscles than an elf, therefore the urgal must be a better choice.

[Fadriendel Augcastil]

Ietoro watched with vague interest as the blindman felt Epoch's bicep, considered it, then spoke.

"Hm. He is skilled with a bow... and a sword... but so are many men in the King's guard. Worth maybe seventeen... or nineteen-and-a-half."

Ietoro was quite surprised to see the beggar go along with his silly game so easily, but his fear only made the game more fun, and easy for Ietoro. Another thing troubled him, however. The beggar seemed to pick up alot of information from the boy's arm. Had he made it all up? Or was it something else?

"Oh dear me...it seems I was a bit off. Well, it's settled then--" Ietoro began, but the child spoke. Ietoro paused to listen.

"Well I suppose you are right good sir. And I congratulate the empire on its amazing method for testing soldiers. The size of a bicep, I can also see how an Urgal would beat out an Elf any day. I mean, come on, take your pic, any Urgal is bound to have larger muscles than an Elf, therefore the Urgal must be a better choice."

Ietoro's eyes smiled with condescension.

"You are so very young, Epoch, my boy. This man, here, was not checking the size of your bicep, for that is irrelevant in these days. He was checking the feel of it. Your bicep must feel very very weak to be worth only, what was it, nineteen gold pieces? I'm sure even this lowly beggar's sword arm is worth more than that. Let's see..."

Ietoro, his hand still curled around the man's bicep, gave it a quick squeeze. His eyes narrowed, and he pressed it lightly with each fingertip, then rubbed it for a second. He did not respond at first, but opened his mind to Kael.

"What has happened?" Kael asked immediately.

Fadriendel sent Kael a picture of the beggar.

I am holding this man's arm. As part of a joke, I am to compare the strength of his arm to this boy. (He sent a picture of Epoch) However, I am almost certain this blind beggar is an elf. Fadriendel thought.

"Unmask and capture him, quickly. Do not hesitate any longer."

He will flee.

"Then do not let him escape!"

The connection was closed, and Ietoro nodded, as though he had finished his pondering. Suddenly, his free hand flew through the air as he turned toward the beggar at an amazing speed, his fingers curled around the bilndfold as he attempt to yank it off.

[Gildor]

It took every ounce of sense in his being for Gildor to keep himself from smacking Epoch to get him to hush up. If the boy knew what sort of person they were dealing with, he would have gone along with Oro's game as well... Or perhaps that was giving him too much credit. At least Gildor's purpose in the game had been served, and he'd get out of this unnoticed... or so he thought.

"Your bicep must feel very very weak to be worth only, what was it? Nineteen gold pieces?"

"Nineteen-and-a-half."

"I'm sure even this lowly beggar's sword arm is worth more than that."

"Surely."

"Let's see..."

Gildor suddenly tensed. "What?!" He exclaimed, though since Oro still had his arm within his grip, he was unable to pull away as quickly as he could have. Gritting his teeth, he reluctantly allowed Oro to handle him long enough to examine his arm, hating every second of it. Payback would be sweet when the opportune moment for it arose. He didn't have to take notice of how carefully Fadriendel touched his arm, or the way the sound of his breathing tensed with discovery, for Gildor could sense his suspicions, realizations, and intentions building all around them. He was going to go for his blindfold.

Although he knew resistance was futile at this point, he backed away from Oro with an equal amount of wild speed. Despite his quick attempt to get away, the blindfold was stripped from his face. The sudden flourish of motion knocked back his dark hood as well, further revealing his pointed ears and milky, sightless gaze. And it was a gaze that, instead of being angry, cautious, or frightened, actually looked quite... mocking.

Without warning, the blind elf suddenly let out a desperate laugh, sounding as though he'd either given up on the situation or had gone mad. He didn't try to flee just then, but rather steadied himself on his feather-tipped staff as he tried to stifle his chuckles. For an elf, he certainly wasn't acting like one.

"You do the King proud, mate. You've got me figured out. I am an elf." Gildor said humbly, and backed away with his arms spread wide in surrender. It would have been a more convincing surrender had he not said it with such a knowing grin. "Though I'm not alone here, am I?"

The time for payback was then.

"I became curious when I first felt your footsteps against the road. Compared to the people around you, yours were much softer and quieter. That's int'resting, innit?" He asked, and leaned heavily on his wooden staff held with both hands. His words were clearly directed at Fadriendel, though his faint smirk and pale stare went straight through him and Epoch.

"No mortal's grip feels so authoritative as yours did when you dragged me inside. And now, when you were able to discover my race with but a simple muscle examination... Very impressive. And the speed with which you removed my blindfold might even be described as inhuman, don't you think?." With that, Gildor stood upright and walked with a bit of a sway in his step as he slowly circled around Epoch and Oro, headed towards the exit.

"So who is it really who's got who figured out now, eh? Because you know, and I know, and you know I know, and I know some people who you probably don't know who would love to know what I know, you know? So gentlemen, if you'll please excuse me, I'll just be going on my merry little way."

Despite his confident swagger and smile, he looked ready to run at a moment's notice.

[Elrik Konun]

Epoch stared in awe at what was unfoldding before him. An elf uncovered, here in Terim? And what was he getting at? Surely he wasn't implying... Either way Epoch had gotten in way over his head, and although he was not often one to run away, he was also not a fool. Mocking a soldier of the king was one thing, but getting between one and an elf, especially one who might me an elf himself?
"Well, I'm sorry but I'm late for an appointment. Apparently you have no use for my services in the army, so I shall take my leave." He walked over to the old man standing by and slipped him 60 gold, while Ietoro was looking at Gildor, "It's not much, but it's all I can spare," he whispered to him, "May good fortune smile upon you and your daughter," he said as he headed for the door, hoping that Ietoro would be to distracted to stop him.

[Fadriendel Augcastil]

"You do the King proud, mate. You've got me figured out. I am an elf."

Ietoro looked happy beyond description.

"An elf, in my father's kingdom. He will reward me greatly for--"

"Though I'm not alone here, am I?"

Ietoro frowned, but did not respond.

"I became curious when I first felt your footsteps against the road. Compared to the people around you, yours were much softer and quieter. That's int'resting, innit? No mortal's grip feels so authoritative as yours did when you dragged me inside. And now, when you were able to discover my race with but a simple muscle examination... Very impressive. And the speed with which you removed my blindfold might even be described as inhuman, don't you think?. So who is it really who's got who figured out now, eh? Because you know, and I know, and you know I know, and I know some people who you probably don't know who would love to know what I know, you know? So gentlemen, if you'll please excuse me, I'll just be going on my merry little way."

Ietoro bowed his head slightly, then eyed Gildor as he circled him.

"So, my grace, speed and power automatically makes me an elf, does it? And to correct you, I had no idea you were an elf, until you told me...nevertheless, I thank you for your compliment. I will admit, I am not human, anyone could guess that, but am I not what you call an elf, either. I am something else entirely. And i'm afraid you're not going anywhere."

The was a blur of motion as Ietoro flew past Gildor and blocked his exit. Ietoro reached out to seize Gildor by his hair, when the boorish youth spoke and distracted him.

"Well, I'm sorry but I'm late for an appointment. Apparently you have no use for my services in the army, so I shall take my leave."

His eyes moved to look at him, and he noticed the old man with the pouch of tax money. Ietoro jerked his head slightly, and the pouch flew from the man's hand toward Ietoro. In the split second that Ietoro looked away from Gildor as he caught the pouch, his hand centimeters from his hair, anything could happen.

[Gildor]

If it hadn't been for Epoch's small distraction, Gildor would have been caught then and there. With only a few extra seconds at his disposal, he barely managed to duck under Oro's arm, sweep past him and out the shop untouched.

The lad was a bit of a stick, but I owe 'im.

Without another thought, Gildor rushed down the marketplace road as fast as he could. Tangled gray hair whipped behind him as he dodged around a knot of noisy people in front of a vegetable stand, and his cloak billowed out as he leapt over a dog he sensed wandering into his path. Against the cobblestone he could feel Oro's pounding footsteps in close pursuit - much too close for comfort - and determined that the best chance of escaping was not in running, but in hiding. First he would lose the Rider, then hide somewhere, wait, leave the city when all was clear, and hope that Oro's dragon wasn't waiting for him at the gates. It was a simple plan that called for a lot of luck, but it was the only thing he could think of while sprinting for his life.

In a rash attempt to throw his pursuer off, Gildor dashed around a sharp corner and darted between two converging carts, slipping past them the way a cat squeezes itself through a thin doorway. From behind the carts, he disappeared into an alley and ducked behind a tower of potato sacks piled against the wall. Holding his breath, he focused on the tremors in the ground as he felt Fadriendel's footsteps pound up to, then run past the alley and into the distance, along with something that felt like an explosion in between. A few minutes later, Gildor allowed himself a relieved sigh. He was free... for now.

Satisfied he was rid of the Rider, Gildor stepped out from his hiding place a few minutes later, threw his hood up over his head, and quietly headed back down the street with a triumphant sway in his stride, the end of his staff brushing lightly against the cobblestone while he walked. As he was weaving his way through a crowd shoppers, his hand accidentally collided with something. It was too hard to be a person and too soft to be a cart. Gildor frowned, sensing something wrong here. With his curiousity getting the better of him, he gave the thing a gentle, experimental poke, and was suprised to find that it was a person after all. Just a rather tall and strong person, with a strangely familiar feel about them.

"Sorry about that, mate. Thought you were a horse," he said apologetically, giving the man his most winning smile. "Been searching for a nice, fast steed lately. Thought maybe I'd finally found-"

Gildor's sentence cut off and his smile vanished as he was rewarded with a familiarly firm grip clamping tightly around the collar of his cloak.

"...Oh."

He shouldn't have let his guard on Fadriendel down so soon.

[Elrik Konun]

Epoch stood just down the street from where Gildor was being captured. They had thought him to be naive and stupid, but now it was the elf who was so foolish? He stared intently at the guard, trying to figure him out. If not an elf, what could he be? A shade? He hoped not. All Epoch knew was that this was bad news for the elf, and that he could not let him be captured by the empire. He had to act. Hopefully he could think of a plan that wouldn't get him killed. The man could obviously use magic, so that ruled out simply duking it out.
He decided what he would do, and quickly ran over to them, "If you let him go..." he gulped, "If you let him go, then I can take you to Eragon!" he shouted. Even admitting that he knew the Varden's new Rider's name would put him in great danger, let alone bluffing about his wherabouts. He cursed his own rash stupidity, but stared on in confidence nonetheless.

[Fadriendel Augcastil]

In the milisecond Ietoro was distracted, he felt a light breeze. He looked up with unfathomable fury as he saw Gildor's back as he left the shop. He cursed out loud with such power that the earth itself near shook. He dropped the bag of money and ran out of the shop in a blur of motion. A young woman was struck by Ietoro's body as he ran and was knocked aside and fell into a man's cart. After running just out of arm's reach from Gildor, Ietoro slowed for a second.

This gold is too heavy... I should--

He looked up; two carts had converged in front of him, what was worse? Gildor was gone. Ietoro broke the barrier of his magic and in the next second, he speeded up, and waved his right arm powerfully. There was a rushing sound, and the carts were broken into pieces and thrown apart with such force, that the bones of the horses and men guiding them could be heard crunching as they were crushed against the stone building on either side.

Ietoro ran through the maelstrom, unfazed by the blood that stained his pure white robes. The elf was the only thing that mattered to him; he would destroy all who got in his way. Suddenly, he stopped. He jogged backwards and looked down a side alleyway; Gildor was tottering down it, he'd recognize that hair anywhere, now. Ietoro ran into the alleyway behind him, his feet making no sound as he ran so much more cautiously. As he was just feet behind Gildor, he moved left, closer to the cobblestone wall and his feet left the ground.

He ran along the wall, rushing past Gildor in complete silence. After passing him, his feet left the ground and he turned as he landed in equal silence before him. Gildor stopped as he reached him, considered him for a moment, then gave him a light poke.

"Sorry about that, mate. Thought you were a horse been searching for a nice, fast steed lately. Thought maybe I'd finally found-- Oh."

Ietoro grabbed Gildor by his collar with both hands, then lifted him from the ground until Gildor's face was a head above his own.

"Oh, yes. You belong to Galbatorix, now, Elf."

A familar, blond, green-eyed youth suddenly ran into the alley. He was bone white and looked petrified. Ietoro glanced at him, but looked back at Gildor.

"If you let him go... If you let him go, then I can take you to Eragon!"

Ietoro let out an irritated sigh.

"I grow tired of your nonsense, child. You cannot take me to Eragon, you are not worth anything as a warrior, and you are more stupid than any stone I have ever stepped over. The only use anyone could get out of you is a night's pleasure, if that. I know a Lord here in Teirm who may be interested. His name is Lord Farquar. Go find him." Ietoro spat.

He removed his left arm from Gildor and pointed it at Epoch. There was another rushing sound, and unless Epoch had a way to escape a spell of that immense strength in such tight quarters, he would be thrown backwards with such force that he would fly out of the alley and past the street, crashing into the flower cart on the opposite side.

[Gildor]

Caught by surprise, Gildor dropped his staff and heard it hit the cobblestone with a clatter as he scrambled for a handhold. He eventually grabbed hold of the only thing available: Fadriendel's wrists.

"N-now honestly," he said in a reasonable tone to his captor, though couldn't keep his voice from shaking with nervousness. "It was a compliment, mate. H-horses are... a-are fast, smart, and from what I've heard, handsome creatures. Strong too." He paused there to consider the situation, and added, "Very strong. And you, obviously, have quite a lot of strength in you." Raising his index fingers (the only gesture he could make under the circumstances), and smiling again, (though not as confidently this time), Gildor concluded, "So, now that we've got that little misunderstanding all cleared up, what's say you put me down now, hm? You're starting to rip my cloak."

Indeed he was, and Gildor did not fancy having to fix the tear later. He was running out of thread, and getting more of the same kind was a troublesome trip. And if he could help it, he'd rather talk his way out this mess than publicly use magic or fight with his staff. However, just as he was about to deliver another set of compliments and reasonable requests for release, he felt another familiar presence approach them.

"If you let him go..."

By the sound of the voice, he could clearly tell it was the boy from the shop. If Oro's tightening grip on Gildor's cloak wasn't choking him and making the color in his face drain away, then hearing Epoch's voice there beside them certainly did the job.

"Lad, you needn't mix yourself up in all this," he said quickly in a low and serious voice. "Now please, in the value of your life, don't say anything-"

"If you let him go, then I can take you to Eragon!"

"Yes, like that, thank you," Gildor muttered resentfully and gritted his teeth. No doubt the boy would be killed now, like the horses and drivers were back down the road. He listened as the Rider gave his uninterested response and waved Epoch off with cleverly harsh insults in an annoyed tone and waited for the attempt on the boy's life he knew was sure to come. He felt Oro's magic building as he prepared to launch a spell so powerful it could be heard rumbling in the air...

And then he felt Rider remove his left hand from his cloak to cast it...

Seizing the short window of opportunity that had suddenly revealed itself, he shouted, "Rïsa!" and plucked his staff out of the air as it rose to his outstretched hand. With one swift, fluid motion he swung the wooden pole around and brought it crashing down on top of Oro's right hand, breaking the Rider's grip from his collar as well as several of his fingers. Without time to even gasp for breath, Gildor dashed around his former captor and once again sprinted down the road with incredible speed, causing a little more commotion than before since the soldiers in the area had rushed to the scene. There was no time to even think of resucing Epoch from his painful and potentially deadly landing; the kid would have to figure a way to save himself on his own, if he even could.

Now, to pull off another miraculous escape. He couldn't use the running, hiding, leaving method this time, since Fadriendel would be on to that in an instant. If he could only make it to the city wall and then to... Somewhere. He didn't want to acknowledge it, but it seemed he wasn't getting out of this without being recaptured. As grim as it was, he couldn't help but thinking, Ah well, there's a firs' time for everything. He leapt over a stray dog and darted around a fruit stand, turning and whacking it with his staff as he ran. It's contents spilled on the street, tripping and slowing down the soldiers chasing after him. He could, at the very least, put up a good struggle and go down fighting.

[Fadriendel Augcastil]

(( Be careful of god-modding, you got pretty close on this post. ))

"Rïsa!"

Ietoro turned back as he saw Gildor's staff come down on his right hand. It hurt, but not very much since had not been focused. Ietoro dropped him more from surprise than pain. Gildor flew past him at an impressive speed. Ietoro did not run at first this time as he heard the Imperial soldiers struggling to catch him. He sighed, and looked at his bloodstained robes.

"Oh, no. I liked these robes..."

Kael, I grow tired of the game of cat and mouse.

"I am coming."

Ietoro looked back at the main street, the wreckage he caused and the soldiers as they bumbled here and there.

"How embarrassing."

Ietoro turned and looked up at the roof of the building next to him. He crouched, and pushed off with his feet, putting an ounce of magic behind his jump and soared into the air. He did a somersault in mid-air and landed on the rooftop. He saw in the distance, a black speck; Kael. He waited, and watched the signs of upheaval, where Gildor was obviously running through. He opened his mind a little further, and sent tendrils of thought near Gildor, to make sure he did not disappear again. Kael was getting closer...