this is it [varden war council]

[Quetzal]

Nasuada sat at the head of a large table in the spacious council tent. She would have liked to have this meeting in a more comfortable, spacious and sturdy hall in Dras-Leona, but the city was behind them now. Uru'baen grew closer every day. It would not be long before they arrived to make camp near its walls to bring the city under siege, and once they did they should have a plan for the deciding battle. Everyone had their own ideas. Now was the time to bring them all together, a representative from each major group participating in the fight, to finalise those plans. The table, a cheap foldaway thing made of light wood, was littered with detailed maps and plans. The Nighthawks surrounded the tent, and all sorts of intricate spells had been woven to shield the tent from all directions. No sound from inside the tent could be heard from without. The inside would appear a black shadow until one stepped inside. No smells, thoughts, anything could could pass through the thin canvas walls. The tent flaps would not open unless the guards or any of the people invited to attend the council - that was, herself, Eragon, Saphira, Orrin, Orik, Garzhvog, Grimrr, and Arya.

One thing it couldn't block out was the cold. It was a crisp spring morning, and Nasuada had chosen a skirt with a loose-fitting shirt with sleeves cut at the elbows. This left her forearms bare, the scars from the Trial of the Long Knives ten clear pale lines against her dark skin. She liked to show them in times she needed to be seen as a good leader. They reminded herself and others that she could be strong.

Strong as she was, in truth she was nervous. It was sensible to be nervous. She was leading her group to fight against the last of the Empire's cities. Strong, with all the Empire's force concentrated here as there was nowhere else for them... this would be their biggest challenge yet. Many of the people around her would never see their families again. It was a terrible thing to knowingly lead men to their deaths, but she hoped it was all for a better future. Ridding themselves of Galbatorix would vastly improve the quality of life of so many people, she strongly believed. Galbatorix... there was another challenge. If this were to end things once and for all, he would have to be captured, preferably killed. Eragon was the best man for the job, or so her men claimed. She didn't care who killed the king so long as the deed was done. It would have to be a Rider. If they could coax Galbatorix out, he would hardly leave without being perched atop Shruikan's back so to fight better. The Varden had a few Riders, but so did the Empire. If the Varden Riders could occupy the Empire ones, Eragon could lead a couple of them in to worry Galbatorix. Eragon had been preparing for this moment for a long time, he would probably be the best suited to the task as well as being one of their strongest fighters... she stopped her train of thought. That was best discussed with the Council, and Eragon himself.

As if on cue, the tent door opened and the young Rider walked in. He had been surprised when the Nighthawks just let him pass, but he supposed the fact that he was able to open the tent flap proved he was him. While on this march he'd normally worn the same worn walking boots and comfortable shirt and trousers that any common soldier would wear, he'd dressed up for the Council. His rich blue cotton shirt was clearly meant to match Saphira's scales, but the dragon had to stand outside as she was too big to fit in the tent. He was clean shaven, his brown hair combed artfully into order, making him look far more sophisticated than normal. His trousers were a spotless brown, his leather boots with their brass buckles freshly polished. A blue cloak fastened at his chest with a noble brone dragon hung from his shoulders, the hood of which he pulled down off his head as he entered the tent. All this made him look almost handsome. Something in his dress, sharp cheekbones and smooth complexion - something Nasuada attributed to his now slightly elvish blood - and his neat hair made him look handsome for once, but the thick eyebrows and signs of his low birth in his face took away from that.

"Well met. Good protection you've got set up there," he told her, taking a seat at her left. He didn't want to be seen to presume he could sit next to the leader of the Varden, but there was no one else here and it would be a bit awkward if they sat far apart with just the two of them.

"A shame you don't have a dragon-sized tent," Saphira and the Nighthawks had been permitted mental links with the interior of the tent.

Nasuada laughed. "I would love to have a mobile great hall to meet with people in, but I seem to have spent all our funds on supplying the soldiers and armouries," she replied.

"Such extravagance. You should spend money more wisely than on the people you depend on." Saphira joked back in mock disgust. Nasuada was glad the dragon was in a good mood. It was making her feel more at ease. Eragon looked more uncomfortable, but she couldn't tell whether it was being dressed so richly or the imminent meeting that was making him feel more ill at ease. He sat stiffly in his chair, looking about with a smile that didn't seem to want to be there. He was keen to get on with the Council, she could see. All they had to do now was wait for them to show up.

((Note: The Varden War Council consists of Nasuada, Eragon, Saphira, Orrin, Orik, Arya, Grimrr and Garzhvog. These characters and only these characters will be able to open the tent door and step inside. Nasuada picked a representative from each of the Varden's main groups, and any more would crowd the tent. Any other character trying to enter will be stopped by the Nighthawks who will either turn them away or get Nasuada to deal with them. This is about the Varden coming up with a strategy, not character development! If you wish to play any of the canons listed or think someone else should be added to the Council, take it up with a staff member. Thank you!))

[Brenton]

((Hmm I guess until Orik is adopted then he'll be mine.))

Orik walked briskly toward the tent, his own guards next to him but not to close. There were of course not too many as to hinder the dwarf king but still there to protect him if someone came after him. Along the way, Orik had seen many people such as Roran and even Brenton Bromsson who he thought would be here. Maybe not though since Arya would be in the Camp for the elves to be represented. As Orik got to the tent he saw the Nighthawks and nodded a gruff manner to his face and features.

They simply stepped aside and let him pass, where he opened the tent flaps that were meant to keep people who weren't invited out. Eragon and Nasuada were both there already which didn't surprise him much. Nasuada, this blasted heat in this tent is unbearable. Is there honestly no where else we can meet? A small smile broke through the dwarf's tough exterior and he quickly hid his face. Eragon how goes the life of the Varden's champion now that you are back? Orik knew why they were there but there was no sense in dwelling upon it until everyone was present.

Suddenly a knock at the tent pole cracked through the air and Orik looked up briefly, expecting trouble. But no one entered which meant it must be for Nasuada. Orik sat down next to Eragon and folded his hands expectantly.

Outside stood Brenton Bromsson who had heard about the Varden war council on his way back to Ellesmera from Surda. He really had travelled far but a stop at a council involving his people wouldn't hurt too much. Yet when the king arrived at the tent he was barred entrance and so Brenton spoke quietly. Please notify Nasuada of my presence and let her know I request to be involved in this meeting. I will wait patiently until she is ready to speak or deny me entrance herself. Brenton relaxed a bit but kept his eyes on the elves from Eragon's personal guard. They all held him in disdain and that could be a problem.

"Your majesty, I really must advise you to leave under the grounds that your sister is here in honor of you. We did not expect someone as important as yourself to show up so Nasuada didn't plan for you." Blodgharm spoke respectfully but his eyes blazed with anger.

[Dragonkin]

Gharzvog was making his way throught the camp to the meeting tent while as he walked he gained looks of scorn and anger from many of the Varden soldiers but he brushed the feelings aside as the humans simple minds could not look past previous wrongs. Garzvog walked inside the tent and bowed before Nasuada before saying "Greetings Lady Nightstalker as you have requested I have come to the council alone and now may i take my seat?" He spoke quickly but not unpolitely as his leg had suffered bad injury in one of the Varden's most recent skirmishes with the Empire.

Saphone and Tintaglia had been coming back from patrol and spotted brenton outside the meeting tent and landed next to him..
Saphone: "Atra du evarinya ono varda, Brenton~vodhr nice to see you again old friend"

[Capricorn]

Grimrr Halfpaw walked flanked by two werecat guards. He was in his humanoid form, while his guardians were in feline form, with iron armor around the top of their bodies. He wore his vest and loincloth, with his dagger visible. They approached the tent slowly. His gaze fell upon Saphira- they must have chosen a dragon representative as well. He had seen that dragon and her rider- Eragon, was it? Champion of the Varden? The werecat spoke to the Nighthawks, signaling for his guards to stay behind him. "I was informed of a meeting."

His eyes turned to Brenton Bromsson, who was nearby. The elf king had not been invited into the meeting? The werecat king was somewhat surprised by this, but he had heard... rumors about the half-elf. Another dragon had flown down to greet him- this one had a Rider on his back, he noticed. If he was correct about the blue dragon, then he wondered who this pair could be. Perhaps they were just saying trying to eavesdrop, or get into the meeting, or something like that. The concept amused him.

The Nighthawks let the werecat king in. He yawned, strolling inside the tent. He recognized Nasuada, likely conducting the meeting. An urgal, a young human, and dwarf were also inside, he noted. "Lady Nasuada, what a pleasure to see you here. I recognize you, Eragon. King Orik of the dwarves, I presume... And I'm afraid I can't place a name for the urgal, my apologies."

He hadn't bothered much with his feline form since he had arrived. As much as he would have loved to curl up as a cat and enjoy the heat of the tent, he felt that it'd be easier for them to respect a king if he looked like a humanoid rather than a non-sapient animal. He let out a deep purring sound in his throat. "My, it's warm in here. I quite like it."

[Harbor]

Arya had been running. She dropped the illusion of having all of her fingers when she was alone, disliking the faint sieve of energy it took to maintain it to the level of quality that would fool most observers. Only the spellcasters with a greater strength than she--this far only Blodgharm and his retinue--could either see through it or break it. Thankfully, they respected her and her privacy enough to neither attempt to touch the illusion nor question her about it. They were right in thinking that she would only address relevant and pertinent questions with a relevant and pertinent answer.

Although well aware that there was a meeting with Nasuada and the other Varden leaders swiftly approaching, Arya uncharacteristically pushed the time at which she had planned to arrive in favor of just a few more minutes alone in the peace of the many small dells surrounding the Varden encampment. She enjoyed the silent peace that it provided, away from all the scratching and squabbling of the many men and beasts shuffling their way through a delayed and dangerous life while they waited for someone to begin the next battle. It wasn't that she disliked humans or dwarves or urgals, but as individuals many of them wore at her patience even though they never knew it. The werecats she felt she more fully understood.

At last Arya raised her illusions again and returned to her tent, where she rinsed her face and changed her shirt to one less worn by work or exhaustion. She kept all of her clothes in good condition, but some were simply more better suited to different assignations. The Nighthawks--whom as a whole she highly respected--nodded to her and made room for her to pass as she approached. Arya nodded back, and hid her displeasure at seeing Brenton there as well. She nodded, according him the appropriate greetings and pleasantries, and without waiting for him to announce the reasons of his presence asked, "Has trouble arisen?" She believed his uses were best served elsewhere, not that she would tell him as much in as many words without either strong provocation or very good reason.

{Will be posting mostly from my phone while away.}

[Timmir]

King Orrin rode up towards the tent where the War Meeting was to be held. These past few days have proven to be very stressful for the king as the day they attack Uru'bean, and had greatly reduced any free time the king once had. In fact, he would have came here sooner, but one of his experiments had proven to take more of his time then he had originally planned.

As he approached the tent, he saw the unmistakable shape of Saphira in the distance along with another dragon he could not name. As he got closer, he was also able to see three figures just outside the tent. One was Arya, who he was informed was to be attending this meeting also. The other two's presence at this meeting was news to him however. Especially King Brenton, whom he thought was supposed to be to busy to come to this meeting.

He got off his horse and entered the tent, glancing at the three with a mix of curiosity and anger. He then looked at everyone in the tent, finding that everyone else was already here. "Sorry if I'm late. I had some business to take care of first." He told the others, with the faint smell of wine coming off his breath.

King Orrin then glanced back at the tents entrance as his face harden. "I was not aware that King Brenton would be gracing us with his presence during this meeting." He told Nasuada, his voice betraying his displeasure of the fact. Orrin was never one who liked being left out of the loop.

((Sorry if this post seems a little out of character. I'm still trying to get his character down.))

[Quetzal]

((No worries, Harbor. Timmir, I was actually thinking how well you were playing Orrin until I saw your note at the end, so I'd say you've got the character down well))

Orik was the first to arrive. Nasuada smiled at him. She quite liked the dwarf. She liked most of the Council, save Orrin. She would like to know Grimrr and Garzhvog better, but werecats in general were difficult to figure out. "It was this or an empty field, Orik, you'll just have to deal with the warmth," she for one didn't enjoy trying to work while shivering with cold.

Eragon visably relaxed when Orik sat down next to him. Seeing his friend put him at ease. He was thankful it hadn't been Orrin to walk in first. He did not get along well with the other human at all, which wasn't like to make a good start to any meeting. "I go between spending a long time sorting people out to having nothing to do for hours or days. No one likes this waiting. What about you?" He asked in return.

"Of course you may. It is good to see you, Nar Garzhvog." Nasuada felt it was proper to greet him by his full title at a formal meeting like this. She let the Kull choose which seat he wanted to take. Grimrr entered shortly after. She nodded to him. "Grimrr, welcome. This is Garzhvog, leader of the Varden's urgals," she gestured to the large Kull, introducing the two.

"Garzhvog, Grimrr, greetings," Eragon said to them both. "I hope you are well." Saphira might not be visible from inside the tent, but she could still see what was happening through her Rider's eyes. She spoke to let them know she was there.

Blodgharm touched her mind. She was surprised. Danger already? But no, Saphira would have noticed and told them if something was amiss outside the tent. "Brenton's here."

Oh no. For goodness' sake, couldn't he just accept that he wasn't invited? At the very least he could have approached her at a different time. She thought it would be fairly obvious she was too busy right now to deal with whiny kings. "Tell him to come back later. Arya can represent the elves just as well as he can."

"He said he won't leave until you speak to him personally."

"Tell him he'll be waiting a long time, then."

"Nasuada, I don't think that's wise..."

"Fine then." She stood up. "If you would excuse me a moment, Brenton's turned up and it's best I deal with him before the meeting properly commences so to cause less disruption," she informed the group, walking towards the exit. As she did so, Orrin walked in. Predictably, he wasn't happy at seeing Brenton there. "He isn't," she said in response to his comment about the king who presumed to invite himself to things. "I was just heading out to deal with him. I won't be long; even if he refuses to leave, he can't get inside this tent. Good to see you, by the way, King Orrin," she reassured him, not mentioning the wine on his breath. Business. Sure.

Outside, she saw Arya as well as Brenton and a young Rider... Saphone? Yes, that was it. Saphone and his dragon Tintaglia. Arya meant the whole Council was here, so she was keen to get the meeting started. "Well met, Arya," she greeted the elf woman. To Brenton, she frowned. "Brenton, Arya is representing the elves at this meeting. With your... condition, we felt she was better to think through our plans. You'll still have a hand in organising your people, but we thought it for the best if she were to think through the strategies and tactics instead of you. That's final. I know you're the king of the elves, I know you want to be involved, and I don't care how strong you are or who you can beat in single combat. We have one representative from each major group, and Arya was chosen for the elves. Do what you like - get angry, wait out here all night, whatever - you won't get into that tent. You can't always have what you want, I'm afraid. If you'll excuse me, I really have to get on with this meeting. Do yourself a favour and act maturely and with more honour by leaving us to it." This gathering was possibly the most important one the Varden would have, and she didn't want to waste her precious time arguing with Brenton. She knew it would hurt him to pick Arya over him, but this was war. She had to choose the sharper minds over the ones prone to murderous rampages and insanity - what would she do if Brenton had an episode in a tent full of the most important members of the Varden? Practicality and the good of the nation were far more important than the pride of one man who was powerful enough already.

Nasuada returned to the tent. There, she'd spoken with Brenton, so he couldn't be upset by that at least. Her words might have stung him, but she had to get the message across and was really didn't have the time to listen to his argument. Sitting back down, she looked around. "Right. I apologise for that, I thought Brenton would know better. Shall we begin?"

((Brenton, Dragonkin, if you want Brenton and Saphone to interact by all means make another thread, but as I already said this is about the Council. Seriously, this thread is not supposed to be about Brenton being upset/angry, we really do need to focus on the War Council and leave all that stuff out of this. You're welcome to make a different thread about him being angry, but please just leave this for the war council.))

[Brenton]

((Lol he isn't angry, and probably won't be for a long time.))

Brenton listened to what Nasuada had to say, barely getting time to open his mouth to protest before she was already back in the tent. Quickly he examined the wards and noticed they would stop intruders from entering but that was in, unless said intruder was bent on getting in. Luckily the king wasn't that desperate. These wards wouldn't stop me if I wanted in that tent but I didn't come here to fight. As to why I'm here, Arya, this was not because of trouble or even lack of respect. I happened to pass through on my way toward Ellesmera from a trip to Surda. There was no reason why I shouldn't stop to talk about the elves since you have been gone longer than I have. Please do tell Nasuada that she knows nothing of me or my behavior if she thinks I would get upset enough to attack. Still, what an intriguing idea that would be to see Garzhvog, Orik, Orrin, and Grimrr all try to fight me.

As he turned to leave, Brenton stopped and concentrated on the wards of the tent. He found them easily enough but to lower them for his purposes would be tricky. Brenton pulled out a parchment and charcoal, quickly scrawling "You wouldn't have kept me out anyhow." When he got the right wording in the Nether gathered, Brenton spoke in the harsh tongue. The wards flickered just long enough for Brenton to send the parchment floating through the open flaps and in front of Nasuada. After that Brenton was done. Saphone, I have to get to the forest to plan for war. If the Varden is represented by Arya then I trust that is good enough but the elves are still under my rule and they await my return. After the last word, Brenton shifted into Vaentr and took to the air right there next to the tent. He angled toward Ellesmera and was gone.

[Quetzal]

((Dragonkin said I should post for Orik and Garzhvog this once, so that's what I'm doing.))

Garzhvog was grateful to sit down, and looked about at the group. Two humans, a Rider, a dragon, a dwarf, a werecat, a Kull, and an elf would soon arrive. What an odd mix the Varden had drawn together. The difference in the urgals' strength had surprised him when he'd first made the pact with the Varden. Fighting alone they had been strong, true, but this group had brought them organisation. Working with other races and combining their clever tactics with their brute force... well, each urgal and Kull was proud of what they had done so far. Come the battle, he would lead every one of his people into becoming a war hero. Wouldn't that be something!

Orik wasn't too happy when Nasuada announced that Brenton had showed up. He could understand where the guy was coming from so had some sympathy - he'd been through a tough time, and he knew he wouldn't like to be excluded from speaking on behalf of the dwarves. All the same, they'd all been through great hardships, every soldier and general and lord. Brenton had brought a lot of his on himself from what he'd heard. Some crystal thing he'd tried to use to gain more power had gone wrong. He wasn't sure. Impartial to whatever Brenton was doing, the man was still wasting their time. "Brenton certainly does enjoy showing up uninvited, doesn't he? Always trying to prove something, that one." He commented to Eragon. "He's your half-brother, isn't he? You had quite the collection."

Eragon scowled. Brom had other sons, a fact that he disliked. He knew it was selfish, but he didn't like the idea of sharing a father, or what it said about Brom that he had only stayed around Eragon. His father was a good man, but other children left behind cast doubts on that. Having never known Brom was his father when he was alive, he'd never thought to ask about any other children he might have. Murtagh he had long accepted as a brother. They had been friends once, and he dearly missed what the man had once been. Hopefully they could be friends once more after all this was over. Orik was a brother, too, although clearly not bound by blood. Brenton was different. Murtagh and he shared a mother, but Brenton shared his father. The thought of Brom with Islanzadi was... strange, to say the least. He couldn't imagine it. There was another Bromsson he'd heard of, a man named Mikkel, but Farria and Isrydia had both told him they'd met him and his real name was Arathale, which made him think the Bromsson bit was a lie. There were a few Morzanssons kicking about, but they weren't really his brothers. They were his half-brother's half-brothers. He wasn't sure what that made them in relation to him.

Nasuada returned and the meeting commenced. She looked at the paper he teleported inside. Always a show-off, that one. She could have sworn the elves had claimed to have warded against any kind of Nether magic... oh well. Brenton wasn't a threat. She tossed the note to the ground.

The meeting had officially started, then. Garzhvog spoke. "My urgals and Kull are strong, but we're built for going all-out in attacking, not using your sneaky strategies. We should be used to storm the walls, or if you're using some tactic to get those with more brains an less force, you should stick us at the front of your army as you enter the city and we'll cut down all in our wake." He smiled. He was realistic about what his people were useful for. The thought of using all his strength and tasting a sweet victory was a happy one.

Orik nodded. "Dwarves often go underestimated in battle on account of our size, but we have good strength too. We can carry out a trick if you'd like, of course. The elves or werecats might be best for that, though."[/blockquote]

[Capricorn]

Grimrr nodded to the urgal leader, glancing around the tent for an open seat that he could take. "It's a pleasure to see the urgals fighting alongside us." He said, moving towards a chair and seating himself in it. He noted that Garzhvog's chair had likely been brought in just for him- he was far larger than anybody else at the meeting, except Saphira, who of course was outside.

When the paper slipped into the tent, Grimrr glanced at it, tilting his head. The elf king had managed to break the wards- the werecat wasn't exactly surprised, considering that Brenton was a half-elf and a Rider, but that was still rather curious. The werecat had heard rumors about him, although it was still fascinating to see such an action in person. The werecat king made note of that.

He nodded at Orik's comment, deciding that it was a good time to state what his race was capable of. "We'd be excellent for pulling off a surprise of sorts- depending on your definition of a 'surprise', of course. Furthermore, the werecats can be used as spies. It wouldn't be extremely difficult for several large cats to sneak in and watch the Empire's movements from within. We could send out messengers to report our finds- numbers and such. And once the battle begins, we can attack from within. They'll never know what's hit them until it's too late."

[Harbor]

Arya felt the muscles lining her spine twisting taut, like mistreated piano strings, as Brenton answered queries and statements from Arya and Nasuada. As an ambassador, and simply because it suited her personality, Arya had always striven to maintain a thick boundary between her opinions and her actions; however, Brenton’s status, however questioned it may be, as a king and his relationship as her half-brother made it extremely difficult to do so with him. It didn’t help that he seemed to have no similar compunctions.

Her teeth pulled back into a snarl as Brenton manipulated the world’s magic, and her hand half-rose in readiness to stop him if he forced her too—his use of magic to force his way around theirs, to force his presence where it wasn’t wanted, to where it had already been dismissed, just to prove a petulant point and to have the last word, was beyond any disrespect from a member of their class of ‘nobility’ that she had ever seen, and that included all of her experiences of Orrin in one of his lesser moods. She wished she could send a ‘benediction’ after him—May you learn respect—but doubted that it would work, and she was loathe to send her magic, like her half-brother, where it was not wanted.

Arya waited a moment longer to assure that her clear, cool expression would remain firmly in place, a cold lake without a ripple despite the voracious wind, before entering the tent after Nasuada. When she saw the note on the ground her upper lip twitched as though to curl in disgust, but she settled for simply burning it: its presence was not necessary, and while she did her best not to assume the opinions of others, she doubted anyone in their collection would chide her either silently or verbally for the tiny spell. ”We apologize for the breech, Nasuada.

”Dwarves would be an excellent advantage for some form of unexpected attack,” Arya agreed with Orik, not hesitating to give agreement in this instance—she knew that her criticisms of the dwarves, for a variety of reasons, throughout her life had frayed their willing cooperation with her and other elves, and elected to voice agreement where it wasn’t necessarily required in an effort to assuage the offenses she had previously caused, particularly since she wasn’t about to cease speaking where she believed a disagreement was needed. ”The urgals will do well where their strength is most needed,” she said in response to Garzhvog, since it was only fair to give him his response as well. It wouldn’t do to be seen as ignoring the urgals, particularly not when their assistance was so needed.

Arya suppressed a sigh, glancing once at Eragon to see what he made of Garzhvog’s remark upon half-brother’s. If it was bothering she knew it would still show on his face. How nearly amusing, she realized, that Garzhvog’s comment could apply to her as well; and how nearly amusing, that Eragon had wanted a connection to her, and how Brenton, almost, made them family.

[Timmir]

King Orrin had to admit, he was surprised that Nasuada hadn't invited the elf king to this meeting. It just seemed like something she would do. Though it was nice to know that Nasuada had respected him enough not to do something like that without informing him about it first. At least, he hoped she would inform him about it first.

As she came back into the tent, it seemed that the Brenton had a point to make as a piece of paper materialized in the tent. "That elf has no sense of respect, or subtlety." Orrin commented under his breath as he returned his attention to the reason they were holding this meeting in the first place.

King Orrin listened silently as the other members of the meeting talked gave suggestions of what each what each of their races could do. It was odd seeing how he saw that since they had been fighting together for a good few months now, that they would all have a good idea what each of their troops are able to do. He hoped they did at least, or they would have no chance taking down Uru'baen.

"Well then, I don't believe I need to say what my warriors are capable of. We've been assisting the Varden quite some time now after all." Then a question formed in the King's head, "Nasuada, do you happen to have a count of how many riders are currently under the Varden's command?"

((Sorry for the slight delay.))

[Quetzal]

Nasuada was glad when Arya burned the note; she didn't want the reminder there throughout this meeting of any weakness in their security or about Brenton's upset. She felt bad for excluding the king, but this was war and victory took precedent over people's feelings. By his comment it was clear Orrin wasn't keen on the elf, but then again Orrin wasn't keen on anybody.

She nodded as people spoke, listening carefully. She addressed Orrin's question first. "Yes, I do. It's more than the Empire has from what my spies say, but I can't say for certain. I wouldn't put it past the Empire to keep a few hidden from the world for a long time. Eragon?" The Empire were cruel in their ways. Locking up a Rider and dragon could make them cold and deadly in battle.

Eragon was more specific. "There's myself and Saphira, Caspian and Sephora, Konner and Talon, Saphone and Tintaglia, Isrydia and Arlyn, Fasail and Aroure, to name a few. Seventeen pairs in total." He was pleased with the group they'd gathered. Most of them made for good company, and Saphira enjoyed the company of other dragons.

"Some of them only joined after we began calling people to arms, so a few a fighting to remove Galbatorix rather than for the Varden to win. They'll be just as loyal and determined in the fight, I'm sure. None will back down," Saphira was proud of her fellow dragons and knew her kind wouldn't flee from so important a battle.

Nasuada nodded, thinking this a good time to link what the others had suggested about their group's strengths so far together with her existing ideas. "Right. I thought we should try playing to everyone's strengths, as you've said. The walls of Uru'baen are strong and thickly guarded. Almost all the Empire's strength will be there. Getting past them will be our greatest challenge. I thought we should split our forces into two groups," she cleared space over a map of Uru'baen, "and strike the city here and here," she pointed to two gates on the map. "This one will be harder to breach, but there are fewer places for archers. I thought it would be wisest to send the urgals, Kull and dwarves there so they might break down the gates. The other gate is weaker, but there will probably be more soldiers guarding it. The humans and elves have spellcasters and better archers, so will be better able to deal with the archers at the weaker gate. Spells won't break through the gates, however, and the gates might still be too strong for humans and elves to break through, so they should make their way up a guard tower to open the gate. Werecats can help there. The guards aren't like to notice a couple of stray cats finding their way into the towers. When the battle begins, they can help attack the guards and open the gates. Surprise is key there. The Empire probably know by now that werecats will be fighting against them, so will be more wary of any large cats in the city. Your people will have to be careful and sneaky. They can attack from within. Once the gates are breached, the two forces can make their way through the city, join together here and push through to the castle. Empire Riders will try destroying our forces as they march or stand by the gates, so our own Riders will have to keep them busy." She looked around once she had finished explaining, awaiting responses and improvements.

[Brenton]

((It's been a month since this was last posted in so I'm doing a check to see if we need to give the Varden more time to plan or just commence with the war. As of right now one council is done but we can wait longer if Nasuada and the others have to discuss more.))

[Brenton]

((Okay dragonkin has disappeared and it is agreed that we think the plot needs to move forward past this point. So I am taking over as Nar Garzhvog and if anyone wants they can temp Orik until Mazzy decides to make a form or not.))

The room was doing nothing but talk about all of these different strengths and weaknesses of each race which Nar Garzhvog could understand. Going in while knowing that someone was stronger than you or weaker than you gave a good idea of where to place them in the ranks. Still this had been going on for some time and they had yet to settle of where anyone was going to attack. As Nasuada finished explaining though, a strange and uncharacteristic thought popped into his head. With finality, the kull slapped his palm against the table and rose to full height so he was sure to have the group's full attention.

Is that not what they would be expecting of us to do? After all you in the Varden are constantly talking about strategies so wouldn't the Empire be prepared for splitting up the troops. I'm sure they are more than ready at that section of the wall where we are going to breach while casting heavy spells at you from the other section where you'll enter. It seems a little to obvious to me and that is coming from a kull who despises strategy. As he finished, the kull's head began to throb from all of the thinking past a simple slash and hack maneuver that he was well accustomed to.

[Rhythm]

(Gonna try to RP as Orik until I get his application up. I hope this post isn't too much... I'll change it if it is.)

"Thank you, Arya," Orik said, albeit a bit suspiciously. It was no secret that the elves did not think too highly of his kind and the flattery came as a bit of a shock to the dwarf, but in the end he decided to accept it graciously. 

Nasuada had made clear what she expected of the dwarves in the upcoming fight, and it was much like what was expected of them in nearly every battle. Fight. Kill. Die. Orik figured that the slight lull in conversation made it a suitable time to offer his thoughts. He looked at Nasuada, then his Foster Brother, and hoped for everyone's sake that what he was going to propose was reasonable. 

"I would speak. Aye, the dwarves are strong, but that's not all we're good for. We've not spellcasters of the elf, nor the brute strength of the urgal, and we certainly couldn't best a dragon, but we've a strength of our own and a way with the earth. If a tunnel could be found that led into the damned city, it wouldn't take too much time to expand it. Mine brothers could be done within a days, a week at most." He glanced about the room, a determined look on his face. As he spoke, he felt his temper flare. "We grow tired of feeling unappreciated in battle. Garzhvog is right. They-" At this, he waved his hand viciously in the general direction of Uru'baen. "Expect us to slap our hammers against the gate. I won't stand by and watch them slaughter us again, not if I can help it." 

With a few breaths he calmed himself, continuing as he felt his heart rate steady and the urge to slam his hammer on the table subside. "I'm sure there's a tunnel that leads beneath the gates. But could we find it? Arya? Eragon? Nasuada? Could it be done?" 

[Harbor]

Arya maintained her steady facade of polite attention, as unwilling as ever to express her vexation at the attitudes of certain attendees, and equally unwilling to express full agreement with those with whom she wasn't irritated. Those who tended to disagree with her hated to see it, and hatred made men and women alike uncooperative, untenable. To treat everyone with the same distant civility tended to work the best at assuring the alliances of all of them.

"Would it be plausible to drop a number of fighters on the walls and guard towers, to overtake them and open the gates?" she asked, glancing about the room. Not being a Rider, she didn't have the right to request of the dragons their services.They may be on the Varden's side, but that didn't make them the Varden's subjects. Dragons were a will of their own.

Orik's suggestion made her blink, but then of course a dwarf would consider that possibility. "During the beginning of Galbatorix's reign one may have been built by those wishing to either escape or enter the city," she surmised. The residents may have had the courage for it before Galbatorix began tightening his fist about them. "Do your people have the means to find it without endangering yourselves unduly?" Or would they be forced to search through the books and scrolls of which they had such a limited supply?

{Short sorry.}