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Post by Timmir on Dec 10, 2013 0:04:05 GMT -5
Farore watched as Eragon went over to Brom and began to bombard the man that was his father with several questions. It was a sweet scene seeing two brothers finally being reunited with their father. However she can't help, but feel like there was something wrong. Yet she couldn't put her finger on what. At least, not until Isrydia asked her how Brom could be here seeing how he was dead.
Farore eyes went wide as she suddenly realized why this scene was so strange. Brom was dead. It was completely impossible for a someone to come back from the endless abyss they disappear to upon their death. At least, she thought it was, but here was a dead man right in front of her. So was this just an illusion or something else.
"I'm not sure." Farore whispered back to Isrydia, "Yet, I would keep your wits about you as this is most probably an illusion to lure us into a trap. After all, the dead don't rise from the grave. They just can't." Farore began to sound unsure of herself as she ended her statement.
"So he's your dead father. Huh? Does none of that seem strange to you, because the last I check, ghosts were just a myth." Trelik warned Brenton as he felt uneasy about this whole situation.
A red dragon then landed near the group, with it's rider immediately getting off of him. Upon hearing the rider's name, Trelik took several steps back. Having already had a couple close encounters with empire riders, Trelik didn't plan on trusting Murtagh for the time being. Fortunately though, the rider's attention seemed to be on Eragon more so then everybody else.
As Farore watched the scene in front of her unfold, she began getting an uneasy feeling that she was being watched. She swiftly turned around to see a shadowy figure in the distance behind her. As she looked at the figure, she couldn't help, but feel a twang of familiarity with the figure. But why? Did she possibly knew this person? If so, then...
Without any warning, the figure suddenly took off, heading away from the group. "Hey! Wait!" She called out to the figure as she quickly gave chase.
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Post by Quetzal on Dec 17, 2013 15:01:39 GMT -5
Isrydia suspected Farore might be right about the trap. The dead rising had been reported numerous times, but they were all pretty sketchy accounts from a long time ago. She hadn't heard of anyone alive claiming convincingly to have seen a ghost. Yet here one was... possibly. She didn't notice the figure Farore could see, so it startled her when the dragon spirit suddenly called out and chased after something. Arlyn's eyes quickly found a moving shape, pointing it out to his Rider before it disappeared from view. Most likely another ghost had appeared. Isrydia and Arlyn didn't follow her. If Brom's appearance was anything to go by, it could end up being quite a personal encounter. It would be best for other people not to be there if that were the case.
Eragon saw Brenton move towards the female Rider, seeing her glance at the king but not say anything. For once he was not filled with dislike, but instead felt a great gratitude for letting him speak with Brom. He started to raise his arms as Brom moved to embrace him, but stopped when he realised they couldn't actually touch. His father's arms might pass through him, but it was still something and he was glad for it. He could feel a slight coolness which was of some comfort to him. "After you... died, Saphira and I managed to get to the Varden with the help of Murtagh here. He wasn't a Rider then, nor was he with the Empire," he waved a hand at his half-brother. "We fought at Du Weldenvarden-"
"What if this is a trick? The others seem to think so," Saphira stopped him. She had been listening to the other Riders while he had not. Eragon frowned but had to admit she had a point. It seemed to good to be true, having the chance to talk to Brom again despite his death.
"You can't be real. Can you?" he was suspicious now. He turned to Murtagh to address what his half-brother had said. It was true Murtagh and Thorn couldn't be hear to fight them, since not only would they have already been under attack but with all these Varden and neutral Riders around the red dragon and his Rider would probably have been defeated quickly. Not being able to tell him his true purpose here was not so suspicious either, as there was no chance Galbatorix would let him go without forcing him to be unable to tell anyone why. Eragon was reluctant to answer the question, but in the end did. He didn't mind Murtagh knowing, and the Empire would know through him but he could just leave out any important bits. "I would never abandon the Varden. Saphira and I went out on behalf of the Varden, and we woke up months later in the North. We still don't know who captured us or why," He was telling more or less everything he knew. The Empire would no doubt already know he had turned up in the North recently, since there had been many soldiers around, but he wasn't sure if they knew he had no memory of anything between then and his disappearance. |
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Post by Emiryal ♕ on Dec 22, 2013 0:33:33 GMT -5
Murtagh gave a slight nod of acknowledgement when Eragon mentioned him. The time Eragon was speaking of to Brom had been the only time in his life he'd felt free. In a way he was a bit bitter, if Brom had not died he might have been able to help him, he might have still been free.
"He's real Eragon," Murtagh said. "Galbatorix knew this would happen tonight, but it will only last for tonight. Brom there is a real as I am standing in front of you. The only difference is I could run Zar'roc through you and Brom can't even touch you." Not that he was going to prove his point with a demonstration.
"That's no small feat to capture the two of you, I wonder who would do that and why," he commented. Eragon's words reminded him of when the Raz'ac had captured him when they'd killed Brom, if it hadn't been for him Eragon and Saphira would've probably ended up with the Empire instead of the Varden.
The empire's champion then glanced at Brom almost looking hurt. "Why didn't you show yourself earlier, that you were a rider. You could've helped me. I was trailing you long before the Raz'ac attacked you," he said almost accusatory. Had he known Brom was a rider he might have revealed himself sooner before the Raz'ac attack, and Brom might have not died and could've helped him. He might not have been forced to swear loyalty to Galbatorix and would've been free.
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Post by Brenton on Dec 31, 2013 16:32:36 GMT -5
Brenton rounded on Trelik as the rider spoke of things that were impossible. Riders were a myth yet a common thief like you is able to convince a dragon to hatch. There is no such thing as impossible just as unexplainable. Do not act as if you know everything and tell me that I should be suspicious when I see my father who I never knew. By the end of his rant, Brenton was standing with his fingers curled into fists and his eyes were dark as winds picked up and grew violently strong. If it had not been for Brom, a fight would've broke out but the man was beside his son.
Calm down, Brenton, or risk succumbing to the anger that created Galbatorix. You need not get angry at anyone and should remember that dragons choose not by social status but by heart and soul. The wind had a voice once again, Brom's voice.
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Post by Timmir on Dec 31, 2013 22:05:39 GMT -5
It was obvious that Brenton's word had an effect on Trelik as his brows furrow. All he was trying to do was make sure that Brenton didn't do something he would regret, yet all he recieved in return was backlash from the elvish king.
"Whatever you say, your highness." Trelik said, with venom in his voice, "Just remember that I never said it was impossible, just that it was a myth. A myth that might end up taking your life if you don't approach it with caution." With that, Trelik began walking off away from the group.
Trelik, where are you going? Neldral asked as he watch his rider suddenly walk off.
Anywhere as long as it is away from His Arrogance. Trelik paused for a second and shook his head, Just do me a favor Neldral, and stay here, will you? I just need a few minutes by myself.And with that Trelik walked out of sight.
Neldral turned to look at the others after Trelik left, understanding completely why Trelik requested him to stay with the others. While the theif would never admit it, he did actually worry about Brenton's, Isrydia's, and their respective dragons well-being, and wanted Neldral to keep an eye on them just in case something did happen. Especially since an empire rider was around, and could turn on them all at any moment.
Meanwhile, Farore chased after the hooded man as fast as she could. With a quick glance behind her, she found that she was by herself in this chase, not that she was expecting any different. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to end up in a trap, something that seemed more and more likely seeing how she gaining the feeling that the figure was purposely leading her somewhere.
She soon found herself entering a large that seemed to have once serve as a sleeping area for riders and dragons alike. In the center of the room stood the figure, staring at her with empty eyes. She then heard words of the anicient language whispered in the wind as magical barriers close off around the entrances and exits of the room.
"So this was a trap." Farore thought outloud as she examined the room to confirm that all her exits were now sealed off. Her eyes then rested on the figure as one question entered her mind. "Who are you?"
The figure responded by drawing a deep purple blade from it's sheath before charging straight at her. In one swift motion, Farore dodge the attack as she drew her own sword. Any hopes that the figure may be friendly were now dashed as she readied herself for the coming fight.
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Post by Quetzal on Jan 1, 2014 7:39:16 GMT -5
Isrydia thought that Brenton was only arguing that this was completely real because he wanted it to be. Just wanting something to be true didn't make it so. "As my uncle always said, Brenton, if something seems too could to be true, it probably isn't. We always had proof of Riders and dragons, and even after the Fall we still had Galbatorix. Ghosts on the other hand have only old wives' tales and very dodgy claims of people knowing someone who knows someone who saw one to back them up," she pointed out. She looked to Murtagh, who was stating that Galbatorix knew this would happen. The mad king was taking this seriously enough to send his champion to investigate, so it was probable that this was the real Brom.
Eragon heard what the two other Rider's said, but believed Murtagh. "Isrydia's right, we should be suspicious, but I believe Murtagh. Brom hasn't drawn us into a trap or attacked us yet, at least," he shrugged, wanting to believe this was really his father.
What Murtagh was now asking Brom was something he'd often wondered at himself. "Yes, why were you so secretive? Why didn't you tell me you were my father, or about Brenton?" he looked over at the half-elf as he said that. No doubt he would want to know why he hadn't been talked about to his half-brother either. Saphira had known before Eragon, and was curious about why Brom had been so determined to remain mysterious. Arlyn and Isrydia were interested by all this, but it wasn't really anything to do with them. They glanced at Trelik leaving. "Is he all right?" Arlyn asked Neldral. |
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Post by Emiryal ♕ on Jan 1, 2014 16:34:55 GMT -5
Murtagh's watched Brenton as the tension escalated. "Brenton, don't be a fool," he said seeing the Elven king's hands into fists. "Fighting Trelik won't accomplish anything here. Besides I would think you would welcome the chance to meet the father you never knew," he said. While he and Brenton were enemies, had Galbatorix not put Murtagh under oath things might have been different. Besides that if Brenton started a fight chaos could easily break out into a fight among all riders here. And Murtagh didn't want to become their target as one of the only Empire riders here. He was good but he couldn't take on that many at once.
Brom though hadn't answered his question, he waited as Eragon more or less repeated it.
[anyone mind if I play Morzan for this? I want Murtagh to interact with him, but Vlaer who was going to play him isn't here.]
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Post by Brenton on Jan 1, 2014 17:38:44 GMT -5
((I'm cool with that))
Brenton trembled still as he watched the retreating figure of Trelik but everyone here had a point in saying he needed to calm down. He looked up at Murtagh and pain filled his eyes as he spoke for his words were harsh but true. Do you wish to see someone who has caused you years of pain and was unlike a father to you? Brom was never a true father nor was Islanzadi a true mother and they are both at fault for my capture by Galbatorix. If you can tell me truthfully that you forgive your father then I will forgive Brom for his lack of attention. You and Eragon both asked why he hid his identity but I knew. Someone who knew he was their father and a rider was abandoned but someone who didn't was protected to his last breath.
I could not reveal myself for it would harm Eragon. Murtagh you should understand wanting to hide your identity and Brenton understands hiding his past.
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Post by Emiryal ♕ on Jan 1, 2014 17:58:29 GMT -5
(thanks)
Murtagh glanced at Brom hearing the words. "I do understand that, but it still hurts knowing you could've helped me but didn't and now it's too late," he said. He knew what Brom said was true, he could understand why he hadn't shown himself. He had done the same thing when he'd met Eragon.
"I can't forgive my father for what he did to me. Brom might have had a lack of attention for you, maybe have been the reason you were captured but I was born into the empire! And at least your father didn't try to kill you! Think what you will, I'm not here to make you like him. Forgive him or not, it's up to you," he said almost matching Brenton's tone. He didn't particularly like being reminded about his father and it showed. He still had the scar on his back from when Morzan threw Zar'roc at him, and Morzan had never seemed to really care about him at all. What had him on edge at the mention of his own father was the idea that he could show up here as well.
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Post by Timmir on Jan 2, 2014 2:50:47 GMT -5
Yes. He just needs to blow off some steam. There's been alot on his mind lately, and Brenton outlash, along with this 'ghost', isn't exactly helping matters. Neldral informed Arlyn as small puffs of smoke left his nostrils.
His attention then turned to the others as they talked about the dead human and the secrets he had held from them. Meanwhile, the dragons of the group seemed to have chosen to remain quiet about the subject. Either they just have nothing to say, or didn't want to talk.
A thought then occured to Neldral. If one rider had come back from the dead, what was stopping others from doing the same thing? And what about their dragons? Would they be able to come back as well?
The swords clashing could be heard echoing within the room as Farore and the mysterious figure fought. The figure proved to be a skilled opponent as Farore found herself relying more and more on her instinct to fend him off. For some reason she couldn't quite understand, she found herself able to predict her opponents strikes, making it easier for her to parry and avoid her opponents attacks. However, no matter how much she tried she could not find an opening in her opponent's defenses.
This fight went on for several minutes as neither side was able to get an advantage over the other. Farore knew this would continue on if she didn't do something to tip the scales. Glancing up at the roof, she figured out how to get her advantage as she spoke a line in the ancient language. The part of the roof above the figure began to noticeably collapse as he looked up himself and started to speak in the ancient language. This momentary distraction gave her the opportunity she needed to thrust her blade through the figures chest.
Time seemed to stand still as she believed she had slain the figure. Yet the figure just finished his spell before giving her an unnerving stare as she pulled her blade from the figure. She was just stun to find her attack had no effect on the man, stepping back as she tried to figure out who he could be. It then clicked.
"Your a ghost, like Brom." She thought aloud, not knowing what to do now. How could she possibly defeat someone who was already dead?
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Post by Quetzal on Jan 2, 2014 7:00:25 GMT -5
Eragon was frustrated with this ghost. He didn't care if he'd kept his secrets to protect him, he'd still kept them and so much could have been different if he'd known his father at least when they were traveling together. "Brom, so much could have changed if you hadn't kept so many secrets. You would still be alive, Murtagh wouldn't be with the Empire. I would still have someone to go to for help and advice, and I would have listened to you better back when we first left Palancar Valley," he wasn't angry, just sad. There was no telling how the future would have changed had Brom not died, but in his eyes it was probably better than this. "What you did may have been to protect me, but it meant you died. You can't protect me when dead," he pointed out. So much had changed and seeing this man only drove that home. When this man was alive he'd been a child with someone always helping him and telling him what to do. The moment he'd died he'd lost that. He'd been forced to mature and despite not knowing much about Riders he'd had to act like he knew what he was doing since he was the Varden's champion and hope against Galbatorix.
Having always had to be strong and ahead of the game, Eragon refused to cry. Saphira felt his sadness and touched her muzzle to the top of his head, breath making his hair ripple. It brought him comfort. He reached up and laid a hand on her, never wanting to let go. "Little one," she murmured to him, voice full of sympathy. She missed Brom too. Too everyone, she said, "What's done is done. We can't change the past, so we should forgive or we'll never move on," she looked at Brom. Eragon nodded, slowly leaving her to approach Brom. "I'm sorry. I... I've just... I've missed you."
Isrydia and Arlyn watched all this. Their attention was drawn away by the shadow in the air next to them. They could not think for the life of them what it was, but the form gradually solidified into a dark figure. They understood then; another ghost. Arlyn twisted his head around as next to him cam a faint humming, eyes widening as he saw another dark shape forming, this one huge. In a moment the darkness condensed and was given colour. On either side of the pair stood a tall young-looking elven man with sharp green eyes and sandy brown hair. The shape next to Arlyn took the form of a large white dragon.
The man grinned as he looked around at the starlit mountain. He breathed in the air happily. "It's been a while since I walked among the living," he said. The dragon stretched his wings, forcing Arlyn to duck, and took to the air, wheeling around joyfully. The man laughed. "Who are you?" Isrydia asked him. She knew he was dead and assumed he was a Rider by his dragon, nothing more.
"My name is Eragon, and he is Bid-Daum," Eragon waved a hand at the dragon. "We've been watching this world from the realm of the dead, and when we realised how weak the barrier between worlds would be tonight, we couldn't resist," he smiled at the woman. "So, you are a Rider, then? I should like to see that the Riders of today are like in person," he looked around. All these people were Riders, it seemed, as there was a dragon for everyone present and one left over, either wild or belonging to an absent Rider. The dragons were all of different sizes, too, the smallest being the pale blue one at this girl's side, the largest the gold one by the half-elf.
Isrydia nodded. "You're Eragon? As in, the first Rider?" she asked in amazement. She hadn't expected him to appear.
Eragon turned away from Brom and stared. "You know, I've never met anyone with the same name as me before," he was stunned by the appearance of his namesake. |
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Post by Emiryal ♕ on Jan 4, 2014 22:39:02 GMT -5
A loud piercing ear splintering screech filled the air as an explosion of blue filled the air. No one was the target it just lit up the area briefly. Then a small black dragon landed near Eragon, or well both Eragon's. The dragon was very small in comparison to most here, in size he only appeared to be a few months old. But in reality he was the oldest being here. The dragon seemed delighted with the turn of events and was paying particular attention to Eragon, the first Eragon that was. Instantly he reached out with his mind to the ghost of the first rider and welcomed him, but not with words but with pictures and emotions finally after sending a torrent of thought, he spoke. "Eragon, Bid-Daum, welcome back, it's been a long time,"[/b] he said.
This dragon was in fact, the first dragon that had ever been born. He'd lived through all these ages, mostly in hiding, but now he'd shown himself. He knew of Eragon from before the riders were created, though it hadn't been until the creation of the riders that he'd met the elf.
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Post by Brenton on Jan 7, 2014 14:04:23 GMT -5
Brenton looked up at Brom once more and a small flash of defiance flickered across his face but then then the half elf jumped into the saddle of Grazael. With a large whoosh of air, the golden wings extended and Brenton felt Grazael rise into the air. He wouldn't forgive Brom so easily when the man had sent him away but protected Eragon. Eragon had been someone important to Brom but he wasn't anywhere near as important.
Brom watched sadly as his son flew off into the sky with nothing close to a look of forgiveness or a word of farewell. If he were still able to cry, the older man would have been weeping for his son. I wasn't able to protect you forever, Shadeslayer, but I did my best while alive.
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Post by Timmir on Jan 9, 2014 4:21:53 GMT -5
Brenton's sudden departure came at abit of a shock to Neldral. Sure, he understood the fact that Brenton harbored hard feelings towards his father, but Brenton taking off like that just seemed so unlike him. So immature for the elf king. Though, he guessed that this was just something Brenton would have to get over on his own.
Brenton's departure wasn't the only exciting thing that happened though as another ghost of a rider appeared, but this time he came alongside with his dragon. It turned out that these the ghost rider was, in fact, the first dragon rider to have ever existed. This intrigued Neldral greatly, and it seemed he wasn't the only one as another Dragon appeared, seemingly sharing Neldral's interest with this elvish Eragon.
Something was different about this dragon though, he seemed different from all the other dragons Neldral had seen to date. While the dragon looked small, Neldral could sense that this dragon was much more ancient then he seemed. Though he could not tell how ancient this dragon really is.
Neldral relayed the news of everything that had just happened to Trelik as the thief walked through the halls of the outpost. While Trelik didn't pay it much mind, it did intrigue Trelik greatly why Brenton would have left like he did. Perhaps they did have more in common then he had thought.
Then there was this whole ghost thing. First Brom, and now Eragon, the first rider to ever exist, and his dragon. How were they able to come back? Is this only temporary? Would they be the only ones to come back? These questions and more buzzed around Trelik's head like an annoying insect as he walked.
"Well, if ghost were going to come back from the beyond, I can't think of a better place." He said to himself as he took nature at the lonely and eerie vibe this whole place gives off. He then took note of a nearby bookcase. Out of pure curiosity, he went towards it and examined it even closer. The shelves themselves were devoid of anything, except for the dust that clung to them.
"At very least this place could use a good cleaning through." He said as he started walking away. However, something stopped him as he turned around. In front of him stood a man that Trelik knew all to well. Someone Trelik was hoping he wouldn't encounter.
"Dad"
The figure gave Farore no reply as he swung his blade at her, which she barely parried. She then saw an opening and slashed through the figures abdomen. Yet, as she feared, her blade went right through him without leaving a scratch.
"What do you want? What are you doing here?" She asked in desperate attempt at trying to get an answer from this man. However, he seemed to just ignore as he swung his blade at her, which she easily dodge.
"Well, if your not going to give me any answers. I guess I'll have to get them myself." She said in frustration before she closed her eyes, sending her mind towards the figure's. She immediately found herself blocked off by mental walls. She had expected this, though, so she immediately went searching for any hole in the defense. After only a short while searching, she found it and slipped right pass her enemies defenses.
Inside the figure's mind, she was surprised to find that she couldn't see any of his memories. Instead, everything just seemed to be shrouded in a combination of anger, depression, and confusion. There was something else there too, however. Something she could barely tell, but before she could try to see what it was, another mind drove her out of the ghost's.
She opened her eyes to see a skeletal dragon materializing right next to figure. She guessed that this was the figure's dragon, and it was the mind that had drove her out of the mind of it's rider. This wasn't good seeing how she was already having a hard enough time dealing with the rider. Now it looked like she had to deal with both the figure and his dragon.
The figure needed a second to recover from Farore's mental attack, before looking at the dragon. His attention was then drawn to Farore as she took another battle stance getting ready for round two. Yet, instead of taking a battle stance, the figure raised his hand, where she could see a faint silvery light illuminate from it. She realized to late what was about to happen.
"Jierda" The figure said, it's voice sounding like the wind. Crystal then screamed in agony as she felt every bone in her sword arm suddenly shatter. Needless to say, the pain forced her to drop her sword as she moved her free arm to cradle her newly crippled one. The figure seemed to chuckle with a glee as it began to approach the wounded dragon spirit. Farore immediately dropped to the ground as she picked up her sword with her other hand, holding it out ready. She had no idea if she was ambidextrous, but it looked like she was going to find out if she couldn't figure out a way to save herself.
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Post by Quetzal on Jan 9, 2014 14:52:43 GMT -5
Eragon II and Saphira exchanged a nervous glance as blue light accompanied by a loud screech made Saphira seem an even more vivid shade of blue than she had been for a moment. Shadows lingered on Eragon's face while others fled, the contrast between light and shadow sharply highlighting the young man's features. He was emotionally exhausted and it took some effort and help from his dragon to remain calm and brave. Isrydia and Arlyn both jumped, having been looking at where Brenton and Grazael shrank in size as the night sky swallowed them. Grazael was welcomed as a golden star for a brief moment before darkness engulfed him.
The other Eragon, however, smiled at the blue light. There was someone he missed. His heart sang as the black dragon landed near him and the man named after him. The grin did not leave his face as he bowed in respect to the Nameless One. Bid'Daum dove down, folding his wings in slightly to increase his speed. It was good to feel the cold night air of the world of the living hitting his face again. The first dragon to be joined to a Rider turned around to angle his feet at the ground, wings extending again and dramatically slowing his fall as he did so. He landed gently next to the black dragon. It was funny how the two were so similar yet opposite in appearance. They were both firsts for dragons; one the first dragon, one the first to have a Rider; they had both been incredibly significant in history; they were ancient and wise; there was more besides. Yet Bid'daum was pure white, huge, and dead, but the Nameless One was pure black, small, and alive.
"Nameless One, it is an honour to see you again," Eragon spoke respectfully to the dragon. They had seen much of each other before. When he had first started raising Bid'Daum during the war on dragons, Eragon had met the Nameless One to show peace could be had between elves and dragons. The Nameless One had taught him much about how to raise a dragon. Without such knowledge Bid'Daum may not have survived long despite his best efforts. Even after other Riders and dragons were bound together by the new pact made, Eragon and the black dragon had spoken often because of the dragon's high ranking and influence among others of his kind.
Isrydia, Eragon II and their dragons were all tense, but relaxed when they saw Eragon I treat the new dragon as a friend. "He's smaller than me but I think he's far older than any other dragon I've seen. Maybe older than Bid'Daum, I can't tell," Arlyn told everyone other than Eragon I, Bid'Daum and the Nameless One. Eragon II glanced over at Murtagh and Thorn, checking they didn't show any sign of this being some trick. "Who is this?" he said aloud.
Eragon I looked back at him. The Nameless One has always been something of a recluse, so he didn't know how much information these people would know nor how much the first dragon would want them to know. "That's for him to answer himself," Bid'Daum replied to all present in a deep, careful voice. |
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Post by Brenton on Jan 9, 2014 16:25:11 GMT -5
((This has to be before Emiryal posts so sorry Emiryal))
The sky lit as bright a mid day just as a pillar of fire shot into the air and heated everything. As the light dimmed, a glow stayed in the air and a large red dragon landed on the edge of the volcano that for a normal being would be a half day's travel. Yet the dragon leaned forward and looked down in wonder. They have a right to know who is within their ranks. This dragon has no name and is oldest after myself and Ender. Other than that I care not if you tell them. Inferno, for that was this massive dragon, had rarely intervened but this was an odd situation.
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Post by Emiryal ♕ on Jan 16, 2014 23:40:02 GMT -5
The Nameless One did not dip his head to Eragon in return. As a formality he required the higher respect. It had been eons since he had seen Bid'Daum and Eragon. Much had changed since then and much would change again, that was the way of things. He was one of the few things that stayed more the same than most. His guidance had once been sought by Eragon in help with Bid'Daum, but now he was hardly known and hunted down as a relic of interest rather than for his guidance.
The black dragon sat up on his haunches as the pillar of fire shot into the air. He knew what it meant and waited for the old dragon to appear. As Inferno spoke the dragon glanced around at those gathered. He kept his identity hidden for a reason but change was inevitable. Perhaps now he should let himself be known. With Inferno here there was no danger to him. He knew the guardian was on his side. "Inferno is correct, most call me The Nameless One. To most I am legend or a forgotten story. I helped Eragon and Bid'Daum when the riders were young." he said to everyone there his voice sounding rather youthful despite his age. "Inferno my friend, forgive me for not seeking you out sooner. I did not know the guardians were awake again," he said. Having been reclusive information like that never reached him.
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Post by Timmir on Jan 27, 2014 23:52:03 GMT -5
Neldral continued to watch in silent as the scene unfold in front of him. Between ghosts and ancient dragons, tonight has proven to be a very interesting night afterall. He did wonder though what was going on with Trelik. He had not heard anything from the rider for awhile now, and he was starting to get worry. Still, Neldral knew Trelik could handle himself, and if anything did come up then Trelik would tell him. Right?
"Trelik? Is that you?" Uthar asked as he clumsily walked over to his son.
Trelik had no idea how exactly to respond, and ended up nodding in his confusion, saying. "Yeah dad, it's me." Uthar smiled as he heard this and stepped forward to embrace his son, but only ended up walking through him. Trelik turned to find Uthar staring at his hands, obviously confused at what just happened.
"So... You are a ghost. Like the others." Trelik said to Uthar as a frown curled his lips. He had hope for a moment that maybe his father would be different. Yet that proved to not be the case.
Farore mind race as she tried to find a way to stop this ghost as it approached her. Thinking back to when she had entered the ghost's mind, she remembered the cloud of confusion that had taken hold. Maybe, just maybe, if she could clear the anger and fear that had taken a hold of his mind, then he would stop attacking. It was a long shot, but it had to work.
She clumsily parried a blow as she searched for the words that might save her life. The task proved to be quite difficult as her arm roared in pain as she also had to keep focus in battle she was in. The words did come to her though as she began reciting them, feeling the energy begin to drain from her body as she did so. It was only at this point she realized how much of a cost this spell could have on her. She feel to her knees once the spell was finished, feeling her supply of energy nearing empty.
Though did it work?
She looked up at the figure as it had gripped his head, his eyes closed shut as he struggled against the magic just place on him. He took several steps back away from Farore before he opened his eyes again and looked at Farore. A flash of worry passed through the Dragon Spirit as she believed her spell didn't work. Yet, as he looked at her, only one phrase left his mouth.
"I'm sorry Farore." With that, he quickly mounted onto his dragon and rode off, releasing the magic barrier as he did so.
Farore sighed in relief as she felt relief wash over her. While part of her did wonder how the ghost knew her name or why exactly it attack her in the first place, she didn't care. All she wanted right now was to return to the other's and get her arm fixed up.
With a flash of light, she turned into a dragon and quickly flew back to where she had left the others. She found herself arriving a lot quicker then it took her to chase after the man, but wasn't surprise seeing how she flew this time instead of just running. As she arrived however, she saw a couple of new faces had arrived as a couple had seemed to disappear altogether. Not wanting to further injure her broken arm, or leg as it was now, before transforming back into her humanoid form, landing on her feet with a slight stumbled.
"So what did I miss?" She asked Isrydia and Arlyn, obviously exhausted from the experience she just had.
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Post by Quetzal on Jan 30, 2014 13:52:47 GMT -5
The Eragons, Isrydia, Bid'Daum, Saphira and Arlyn were all watching the Nameless One with great interest, although the living Eragon's eyes kept flicking over to ghost of his father. Brom had been oddly quiet, and he was worried it meant he might leave. Hopefully he was just thinking. He was pondering this when the six of them had their gazes wrenched skywards by the appearance of a colossal dragon. The older Eragon and Bid'Daum knew that this was no dragon; this was a guardian. They bowed to him as he landed, while the other Eragon and Isrydia exchanged a glance. They and their dragons listened to the words that were spoken, but that brought little more than more reason to regard the two dragons with awe. It was clear the Nameless One was the first dragon, but they were unclear who the larger dragon was. The small black dragon referred to him as Inferno and a guardian, but Eragon did not know what that meant.
Eragon looked at Isrydia and Murtagh. "The guardians...?" he asked, hoping one of them knew what that meant. Inferno was impressive, true, but he wasn't sure what he was. Older than the first dragon, apparently.
Before Murtagh could have a chance to say anything, Isrydia jumped in to explain. Eragon had been away for a while; he must have missed the Branches. "Do you know about the Rider Branches?" she asked him. He nodded, having had that explained to him on the journey south after his rescue, "Well, each one has a guardian. Inferno must be the one for the Fire branch, by the look of him. The guardian for my branch, Air, is Aether Nomos, a great white bird two metres tall," she explained. She did not know of the other guardians, having not spoken about them much.
The ancient Eragon spoke up then. "The Branches were founded a good many decades after the Rider Order was. The guardians protect their branch and the element associated with it. Aside from Inferno and Aether, there's also Terra Nova, the fox-like Earth Guardian; Riptide, the sea-serpentine Water Guardian; and Ender, the draconic Psychic Guardian," he explained. "I've paid close attention to the Riders even from beyond the grave, so I have seen the fall of the Branches and saw them reestablished recently," he looked to the boy named after him and Murtagh, "It would also seem you two have a big part to play in the future of the Riders, too. As do many others," he couldn't predict the future, but people on both sides of the civil war rested a lot of their respective hopes on Eragon and Murtagh's shoulders. That Brenton was significant, too, as king of the elves.
Isrydia and Arlyn wondered what part Eragon I had had to play in the Branches. Bid'Daum was white, so he would have been in the Air Branch just as they were. Unless they'd decided not to join a Branch. Saphira found Arlyn's mind again, enjoying talking to another dragon and not wanting to reach out to Thorn's mind. "We keep finding more and more we've missed. It frustrated Eragon a lot," she remarked. Arlyn was sympathetic. "I can't claim to understand what you've been through, but Isrydia hates not knowing too. She always tries to work everything out,"
Farore's return was a relief. "You've missed quite a bit," Isrydia began. This evening had no dull moments. "Brenton insulted Trelik so Trelik left. Then Brenton and Eragon got angry about their father, and Brenton left. Eragon - the first one - appeared with Bid'Daum. That's him with the big white dragon. He's a ghost like Brom. The other two dragons aren't ghosts, but they're the oldest here. The small black one is known as the Nameless One and is the first dragon. The massive one is Inferno and is the Fire Guardian. Now what about you? Who was that figure I saw you chasing?" she asked. |
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Post by Brenton on Jan 30, 2014 17:37:35 GMT -5
Inferno rested his head down close to the Nameless One while everyone spoke and he tried to avoid unleashing more fire upon the world to crisp anything in a moment of lax control. As the black dragon replied to Inferno though, he raised his head just enough to look at the Nameless One once again. The guardians just awoke once more recently when the Branches were reformed and it wasn't a big deal with the common folk. Still, you are welcome to visit any time you want because no matter what, I'll protect a fellow ancient dragon. Now, Bid'Daum and Eragon, how have you been since the last time this meeting was happening? Inferno's voice rumbled in the heads of everyone like crackling fire but with the sound of age and wisdom as well as sorrow yet to be forgotten.
In the distance, just over the clouds, Brenton rested on Grazael's back while the golden dragon flew in lazy circles and the king moped about what he had done on Ristvak'baen. All Brom had done was shown up and he hadn't excluded Brenton but was talking to him as well when the king grew frustrated and angry just to leave in a huff and a roar for he felt like he was being mistreated for whatever reason. The wind was blowing against his face and the clouds left water droplets on the skin as Brenton huddled down into his cloak with his face buried against his chest.
There's no reason for you to hold a grudge against your father for something he couldn't help you with in the first place, Brenton. It's not like he knew that you were going to be taken captive but when you showed up I'm sure he was afraid that Eragon would be because of his heritage. Please, Brenton, go back and apologize to them all while you still have a chance to talk to Brom or it will eat at you for the rest of your life.
Brenton sighed and nodded once as Grazael angled his wings so that they were flying toward Ristvak'baen once again to see all of the people on the mountain top. He could tell more people were there and even Inferno had shown up and was obviously speaking to everyone on the mountain for he was busy not noticing Brenton swooping down on a twelve year old dragon, in size at least.
Brom looked up and saw the dragon flying back down to the mountain top, golden and holding a half elf king on his back like it was no challenge. The old man who was now a ghost felt pride at how his son was flying back even though he was still obviously angry at those on Ristvak'baen. Brom turned to Eragon, his son, and smiled slightly even though he had rarely smiled at the boy when they were traveling together. This was one boy who had grown into a good man with his journey to the Varden.
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