The battle of Belatona

[Kathena]

Amanes walked through the dirty allyway, glancing down at the footprints of the werecat and the human. Hm, the werecat I knew wouldn't talk to most humans. Maybe this one is different then the one I knew. The elf thought as emerged from the ally, tossing her curls out of her face with her right hand. She hadn't had much time to fight in the battle, for the healer that had tended to her wounds from days before at not allowed her to get outside of camp. She hated being kept away from life. She felt like she was being pushed into a cage like an animal, and beside, she would have to face the world sometimes. So why not now? At least she did get a chance to fight in the Battle of Belatona. She wished to fight along side the Varden for the first time, as well as getting to know who she was fighting with. Amanes had met a couple of descent people. Most of them were humans formerly of the Empire or Surdan warriors, but she still got to knew a few people. None of them she liked as much as the friends she had lost on the journey to the Varden. They had been friends for over seventy year, and she was not ready to give them up at the time. But things change, people change. She would never be the same without them. The choice she made with her friends the day they left Ellesmera changed her life, they even changed her true name, but she didn't know what it was. She had known before, but now when she thought that name it didn't sound like her. She was not the joyful person she use to be. She was now a sorrowful elf, who had no real friends in the world.

A salty tear stung Amanes's chocolate brown eyes as she chased the horrible thoughts away. The dirty blonde haired elf wiped her eyes with her hand she her eyes hardened slightly. She had a personal mission right now. Why was she pausing to cry? Even though that was not her intentions, she scowled herself for it. Then, taking a deep breathe, she glanced down at the ground. One would have thought she had no way to follow the werecat, but those who thought such things were wrong. The werecat had killed a soldier before she left, and she bloodsoaked paws had made prints on the cobblestone. A small smile flashed on Amanes's face, brightening her mood. Trying to ignore the emotions inside of her, the elf followed the footprints. They curved along a short road, and then led down a rather long one until the turned the corner once more. Amanes was focused by now, for that was one of the few things her father had taught her before he died. How to focus on what you wish to achieve, and how to forget the things that haunt you. She had never quite understood the haunting part, but she quickly took in the other knowledge.

Amanes stepped around the corner and glanced around at her surroundings. There was a warrior, two dragon riders, a human, and a werecat. She stared at the two dragon riders, for she had always admired them. They were amazing, and the dragons were so beautiful. Then she glanced at the warrior, and final turned her gaze to the werecat and the human. Smiling, she slowly made her way of to them, saying quietly, "Hello?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mrreow," Silis whispered in response to Cicymyst's question. Yes, she was ok. She didn't seem hurt that badly, or so she hoped, but it was mostly all in her head. She still couldn't walk on it though. Then when Cicymyst asked if they wished to go on looking for something else in the battle she smiled. The large black cat nodded and purred happily. Then she slowly padded up to Cicymyst, limping with her wounded leg.

The black cat looked at the human before a smooth voice entered her ears. A sense of joy spread over her and her eyes gleamed. Is that... No, it can't be. My stupid mind is playing cruel tricks on me. Fate is cruel, and it would never give me a chance to redo my life, to find my happy place once more. She reminded herself. With a small sigh, she turned towards the voice. She frowned at first, but her unfriendly frown turned into a excited smile. Silis stared into the elf's eyes and her pelt seemed to gleam. These were the same brown eyes she had known long ago, the ones of an elf she had lost. I suppose fate isn't so terribly cruel after all.

[cicymyst]

Cicymyst whirled around at the sound of the elf's voice, whisking his sword from its scabbard and aiming it at the newcomer. He was strung very tightly after the recent encounter with the dragon rider. "Who are you?!" he inquired behind a furrowed brow that scrunched up his unruly almost-unibrow, " Varden or Empire?" he was tired, yes, but he could take on any elf with Silis on his side. 'Id probably need a whole lot of healing, though.' he ammended. As he spoke he reached out from behind his rock-solid mental barriers and brushed the elf's conscience as to ascertain her intentions. He was cautious, though, not wanting to lose his identity in the familiar, yet alien expanses of an elf's mind. Cicymyst's doubts died when he saw Silis smile at the elf. He lowered his sword and leaned in to hear what the elf had to say.

[Cloquet]

Aldric ran panting over to the wall. He ducked down quickly and put his left arm up, which had a shield on it, to make him self look less threatening. He sitting in an alley way, going over and over why in the world he was even here. It was his first battle with the Varden, his first proper battle, shouldn't he be invigorated? The truth was, was that he was terrified. But even that doesn't matter. All that mattered was that he was in a battle, he could lose his life in a moments notice. Nothing else mattered, not the reasons behind battle, not the immoral act of killing, not even winning or loosing. All he knew was that he wanted to live to see the sunrise tomorrow.

Only last night had he learned that he would be acting as a soldier in the next battle. Indeed back then he had been excited that he was finally participating in a large scale battle, but now... The day had been full of blood, crashing walls, and dragons shooting flames into the Varden's ranks. It's like a mad house! He glanced upward at the different dragons soaring through the sky. Riders were so ridiculously strong, it was like fighting a god. Not only them, but the elves were like the most seasoned of warriors. Of course they've had years of training. He seemed to be the most ill equipped of any one in the battle. Especially since the suddenness of him actually joining in he hadn't had time to learn how to fight with a sword and shield.

Well that's enough of that. He pushed himself off of the wall and peered out of the alley way. More and more Varden soldiers were pouring in from the gaping hole in the wall. He looked over in another direction, spotting an elf woman, or at least he thought so by how she looked. It was very strange looking at a being from the stories he had heard on the docks. Elves were so graceful, so elegant, even in battle. He looked at her in wonder for a moment more, then noticed she walked down another alley way. Where the hell is she going? Shouldn't be fighting? Of course he wasn't fighting at the moment either.

He could see an expanse of soldiers heading towards the center of the city, Belatona would fall in no time. So what was the harm in him trailing after the elf to see what she was doing? He rolled his right shoulder as he walked into the frey once more. The sword he held still felt awkward no matter how much he had swung it already. He swung it once more, at an unsuspecting empire soldier, then he clumsily swung again, until the wards shattered and Aldric finally smashed his head in with his shield. Magic was weird, and Aldric was sure he'd never truly understand how it worked. All he could do was hope that he had some kind of ward on himself, of course he wasn't important so it would probably be small. It didn't matter though, he fought like he had no wards. He cut and maneuvered, more of the latter, his way towards the alley way the elf had gone through.

He emerged in another street and saw a few other people standing there, including a werecat, who seemed heartened by the elf's appearance. Aldric stayed behind to look onward in awe at the seasoned warriors who obviously had years of experience. He knew that no one could see him unless they really looked, but he had no doubt that they could sense him or even smell him. Hopefully I'm to insignificant for them to take heed of me. He crouched down slightly, keeping his eyes fixated on the group.

[Kathena]

Amanes overlooked Cicymyst. He didn't seem like he was new to this, but even in the day or two she had stayed with the Varden she had not seen him. Of course she had only emerged from her tent a few times but neither the less... The gracefully elf stared at the human for a couple of heartbeats before sighing.

"I'm fighting for the Varden as well," Amanes began, twisting her hair with her finger. "Hm, you seem like someone of the Varden. Judging by the fact that you are friends with a werecat." She observed aloud. Smiling, she stared down at the werecat with her chocolate colored eyes. She seemed excited, but for what reason? Amanes closed her eyes and drove her consecience towards the werecat, trying to get into it's mind. The elf thought it would be difficult, but the black cat let Amanes easily come into her mind.

Silis smiled grew as Amanes entered her mind. Now she could talk to her sister! I never thought I would see you again. Her cat-like voice echoed anxiously.

Amanes blinked slowly. Again? Where had she seen this werecat before? The dirty blonde elf looked deeper into the creature's mind, seeking it's memories. She sadly watched as the cat's sorrowful past leaked into her mind, but as a face appeared, it suddenly seemed to brighten. Amanes pushed the memories away and stood frozen, staring into her sister's piercing emerald green eyes. She let out a small sigh of relief as a tear of joy trickled down her face. It's you. I found you, finally.

Silis let out a purr of happiness and grinned out of pure happiness for the first time in what seemed like forever. Indeed, Amanes. As I just told myself, fate is not a cruel as it seems. She thought still standing on her three unwounded legs, staring up at Amanes.

With a small giggle Amanes nodded. You are right. What a great day this has been. I want to talk to the human for awhile. What is his name? She asked.

Cicymyst.

Thanking Silis, Amanes turned to Cicymyst. It took her everything she had to stop herself from bursting into tears. She had found her adopted sister after a year! That was almost Silis's whole life, and the werecat still remembered her. Then a new sense of feeling came over her. Dread. Where was Azahel? Her mother had to be somewhere... Right? She was terribly sick the day I left... She said to herself, before pushing the thought away. Looking at Cicymyst she smiled.

"I'm guessing you want to know what is going on," Amanes began slowly, her eyes sparkling. "If you want to know I will tell you. But before that, who are you?"

((I hope that wasn't too confusing... I tired to put the character's name in front of each paragraph.))

[Alanoth]

((its fine, it happens at times. onward to glory and sweet vengeance))

At Nar Ahrun's impudence, Alanoth could only grit his teeth together behind closed lips. The rams were in fact protected against magic, that much he had known a while ago, he had simply tested whether or not they themselves knew that. Obviously, they did, or at least their leader was aware. They didn't frighten him though, they were simply annoyingly arrogant Urgals--something that he had killed countless times before. Even so, they weren't really worth his time, but he did make a mental note to question Nasuada herself about this behavior.

Alanoth spat to the side at Nar Ahrun's insulting counter and his laugh. "For humans, I am very tall and thereby not a small man. For elves, I have always been powerful, and so not a small man. You, Nar Ahrun, I see nothing of you that makes you so big, simply a pack of rams to back you up when any sort of danger approaches. Still, you aren't worth the effort, I'll take my leave now, for there are more important tasks to be done here than to argue with creatures who can't reason."

As he was about to leave, having turned a bit, he stopped to address the probe on his mind. It was more than likely from the female elf, as the Urgals could not possibly use magic let alone possess it. He easily batted it away with his own defenses, having given her probe only the time to find his name, not exactly a secret if one knew elven history. So, he countered with a probe of his own, one that did not seek information, but rather to act as if it did, only to bathe her in a wave of his own grief and anger if she tried to stop its pointless probing. The technique had come in handy many times, so he attempted it now to throw her off and possibly let her know that he meant business.

Just before he left at Nar Ahrun's final warning and the woman's nod, he spoke softly to her in the ancient language. "Fricai onr eka eddyr. I am your friend." Then, he turned around and started to walk off. Alanoth was more than positive she would catch that, as few people know the Ancient Language beyond use for magic, except for elves and some riders. He was seriously risking someone of the Empire noting this and the information eventually getting back to Galbatorix, but he really didn't care. If he ended up sending Galbatorix the same message that he was trying to give to the Varden, then so be it--all the better for Alanoth, Harbinger of Life ad Death.

Alanoth left the area where Nar Ahrun and the elf woman were, heading off towards where the battle seemed to have shifted. Drawing his long sword now, he gripped his blade tightly with both hands, readying himself as he charged down the nearest alley to where Varden soldiers and soldiers of the Empire were in a deadlock in the middle of a financial district street. The soldiers of the Empire were not expecting a single combatant with an elven long sword that had a spell cast over the blade to be charging at them from the side, so Alanoth's initial attack went well. He effortlessly cut into the first soldiers he came across, taking big swipes at their torsos and necks, dispatching sometimes three enemies at a time with each swing. When other soldiers finally realized that the Varden had new found help, there was no way for them to stop him from slicing his way through their ranks.

Finally, two soldiers spotted Alanoth decimating their ranks, and disengaged from the main fray to attack this hooded stranger. It was a bad decision on their part, though ill-informed so it was understandable. Summoning extra strength to his blade's durability, he smashed down on the first soldier's shield, breaking his arm and causing him to fall to the ground in pain. The second soldier almost took Alanoth's own arm off with a halberd, but the half-elf's wards narrowly prevented any damage. He sidestepped, attacking the soldier's side horizontally, embedding the blade deep into the soldier's waist. Strangely, the man acted as if he hadn't even been touched, and swung at Alanoth with his mighty halberd again. Alanoth ducked, and with a point of his hand and a shout of Brisingr!, he threw a fireball at the warrior's head, destroying it completely as the remaining body fell to the ground lifelessly.

Satisfied that the soldier was indeed dead, Alanoth made a mental note to remember that some of the soldiers were enchanted so as to be immune to pain. Oddly enough, they seemed to be mixed in with the rest of the soldiers, so it was difficult to tell which ones failed to experience pain until one stabbed a soldier and the soldier kept fighting. Perhaps there was a way to detect this early on, but how escaped Alanoth, as he had only ever mastered the use of magic in fluid support of his swordsmanship or in singular use. Whatever the case, he passed it on through his mind, engaging another soldier--this one a captain from his insignia--as it charged him with a vertical attack of a short sword. Alanoth evaded the attack, slicing the man's spine in counter as he passed, causing the man to fall to the ground like a boneless fish. The old half-elf then proceeded to return to the fray and help the Varden warriors who were engaged in combat with the other soldiers of Galbatorix's command.

[Merril]

Both Merril and Ahrun watched as the stranger walked away. Ahrun simply turned his shoulder and went back to his seat, forgetting the man almost as quickly as he had noticed him. However, Merril lingered for a moment more, quickly raising her defense against his mental probe. The emotions that the man was projecting were clear, but Merril kept them out, not letting them color her own. However, the thing that shocked her most was the name. Alanoth.

The Elf had heard tales of Alanoth, one of the great riders from the founding of the order. Aside from Eragon, he was the only known rider never to bond with his dragon. She knew she had to work quickly.

With surprising speed, she set to her task, rushing to the underbelly of the Dragon, just as the Urgals continued to ravage its body. Drawing her knife, she uttered an incantation for sharpness, honing it and hardening it before she plunged it to its hilt in the chest of the dragon, just below the neck. Sinking her hand into the scaly crevasse up to the elbow, she spoke again.

"Gath Eldunari un lam iet!"

After a moment she felt an impact on her palm. Curling her fingers slightly, she stopped the large object from falling for long enough to reach in and grasp it with her left hand. It was the size of a small stew-pot. As Merril pulled it out, she hoped for the best, and was relieved when her eyes fell upon a clear gem. Storm had not had time to spill into his Eldunari. Her job here was done, and she could chase history. She sprinted after Alanoth, shouting over her shoulder to the Nar as she let the lifeless Eldunari drop to the ground.

"Nasuada will grant a place of honor to tribe Andaruk for delivering Hyperion. Good luck, great Nar."

Ahrun did not look up as she ran off. He cared not for the matters of Elves.

Following Alanoth, Merril came upon him as he waded into the fray. Climbing a nearby house, brick by brick, she moved herself above the melee, her inquisitive eyes watching.

[Ozig]

The fighting had moved from the wall to the streets very quickly. There was no longer lines of men, but scattered fighting throughout. Both forces had meshed together and for the first time Ozig could not find his sons on the battlefield, a reality that scared him and took his focus off the battle. The only members of Du Beorngar he saw were Hodvu the Werecat and Kyrik the Dwarf. Mid- observation, three red-clad soldiers charged him. Ozig drew his skinning knife and threw it into the throat of one of the men, who gurgled and clutched at his neck as his blood fountained sprayed into his comrade's eyes and halted their charge. Seizing his opportunity, Ozig swung down on one man's skull, crushing it into his neck, and then swung at the other man's leg snapping it like a twig. The man just kept staring at Ozig and dragged his snapped leg behind him as he tried attacking Ozig again. He saw this at the Burning Plains. The laughing dead were in Belatona. He hadn't noticed them before because he had only instantly killed his foes with blows to the head before. Ozig dodged his sword strike, kicked the man in the chest, knocking him over, and then clubbed his skull repeatedly until it smashed like a pumpkin.

The fighting was moving closer toward the center of the city. The dragons had joined the fighting, and their roars followed by the screams of scores of men being slaughtered could be heard in the distance. Kyrik and Hodvu were in combat with six imperial soldiers, and Ozig grabbed his skinning knife and assisted them in dispatching their enemies. When all of them were dead, Ozig asked his comrades

"Brothers, where are the rest of the Bears?"

Hodvu answered in his unfittingly deep voice

"West of us, in the more concentrated fighting in the financial district."

Ozig nodded and ran with the dwarf and the Werecat to the nearby financial district. It was a bloodbath, and it appeared that the Empire was making a final stand before they would have no more organized lines and be reduced to small pockets of resistance around the city. After the fighters in the financial district were destroyed, the only obstacle left would be the remaining imperial riders. Ozig jumped right into the fray, clubbing down imperial soldiers frantically. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed an elf cleaving down imperial soldiers like a madman. It was strange to see an elf that looked old, but stranger to even see an elf in their ranks so far from the riders. Despite his skill, he was taking on entire blocks of imperials completely outnumbered. Just as Ozig was about to muster some varden soldiers to aid the elf, The members of Du Beorngar flocked to Ozig, having seen him enter the battle. It so turned out that they had been in the financial district with the majority of the vardeners, and Elgriq and the two others had fallen back, Ozig scanned his unit. The escort they had entered the battle with was gone, probably dead. The survivors, Ozig's family, Kyrik, and Hodvu were all bloodied and exhausted. His son, Jorix, was missing.

"Where is Jorix? He asked, worried.

Du Beorngar shrugged, and Ozig decided that it was time to keep his mind on the task at hand. Half-assuring himself that his son was fine, he raised his club and charged with the members of his berserker unit to the old elf's aid, smashing into the surrounding Imperials like a tidal wave, decimating the Empire's soldiers with ease, each warrior bringing his own skill to the table. Simpsov, Ozig's crazed son, tackled a soldier through a window into a storefront. Ozig made his way to the elf and dispatched a man aiming for the Elf's back.

"Aid has arrived, Elf. You are much needed at the front so that we may decimate the remaining organized force and then move on to the riders."

Ozig continued to fight near the elf, awaiting his answer. They would need him in the critical steps to come.

[cicymyst]

Cicymyst watched the silent mental exchange from behind his mental walls, respecting the werecat and elf's privacy and only picking up the greatamount of joy coming from the exchange. Cicymyst waited patiently as the two beings conversed and grew their grins out wide. Cicymyst was pacing slightly, a habit that came out when he was impatient or thinking, when the elf turned towards him and inquired as to his Identity. Red flags went up immediately as his instinct blared a warning, both of which he suppressed with some difficulty. As such, he paused before he answered the elf, beginning his sentence slowly.

"I am Cicymyst, son of Captain Parthos and Alina the elven infiltrator, protagè of Eberhardt Westy. I have come to the Varden with valuable information on Empire holdings, plans, and strategies, along with my fighting and tactical prowess. I want to serve that Varden and bring down the Great Tyrant, even if it costs me my life. I have lost much for this cause, and I will not cease to fight until a kinder and better monarch sits on that throne in Ûru Baen."

Cicymyst sheathed his sword and stared into the elf's eyes, which matched his in color. He wondered where she cme from, and what her story was. Cicymyst shifted his weight onto a different foot as the elf bagan to talk again. Cicymyst liked her voice, which reminded him of his mother. He patiently awaited the next question that he knew would cone, brooding in the back of his mind about his long-lost mother.

[Kathena]

Amanes flashed Cicymyst a small smile. He was half elf? Interesting. And he sounded like a noble warrior, for he did say he would give his life for the Varden. But should I tell him about Silis? She asked herself. She batted her eyelashes as she continued to stare at him. She had seen when Silis had first met him, and they already seemed like friends. He must be trustworthy then, correct? She asked herself once more. Deciding to stop pondering on the question, the elf took a deep breath and sighed.

"I am Amanes Memorystalker, daughter of Azahel and Larail the hunter. My parents didn't wish to ever do anything interesting with there lives, but I came here to do something for once. I traveled from Ellesmera, and the jounrey was the death of my friends. I came here to fight with them for the Varden, to make something of myself, but I ended up coming alone and wounded." The dirty blonde haired elf glanced at Silis who was staring at her wide-eyed. This was more then her sister knew. She had not had time to tell her what really happened all this time. Amanes mouthed, 'I'll tell you later,' before turning back to Cicymyst.

"Anyway, I guess it would be proper to tell you what is going on at the moment. Believe it or not, Silis is my adopted sister, that I unwilling left behind when I parted from Ellesmera." She whispered, just loud enough for Cicymyst to hear. Everyone but Verque, Shemus, Cyen, Asnerae, and Dubuer had always laughed at her for having a werecat as an adopted sister. She didn't want anyone else to over hear, for she was tired of being laughed at. I have indeed change. She told herself once more.

The curly haired elf glanced at Cicymyst, wondering how he would respond. It couldn't be that bad could it? I mean, werecats hang around Ellesmera every once and awhile and it couldn't have been that strange to adopted a lonely year-old werecat, could it? She thought, blinking her chocolate eyes slowly. She hoped Cicymyst thought she was shane, but at the same time she simply didn't care. She wanted new friends, but all she truthly needed was her sister, her memories, Asnerae back in Ellesmera, and her mother. But where was her mother? She would not have been the kind of person to find in battle, so she would have been back in camp. But Amanes had a dread filling her. She didn't see Azahel in Silis's recent memories. Could it be true? Could she really be gone?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silis listened to Amanes's tale with wide eyes. They had all died? She had seen Asnerae in Ellesmera the day Azahel died, but their other friends? She had only known them for a year and a half, but that was most of her life. Most of a werecats life that is. All those days of joking around led to them dying? It's just not fair. She thought, her emerald eyes clouded with forming tears. She sniffed, trying not to cry as Amanes glanced at her. I'll tell you later? Silis didn't really want to know anymore, for the more she knew the more he would have to tell. Amanes didn't know about her mother or anything else that happened once she left. I'm sure she had her share in adventure. Silis snorted jokingly. She had been through so much since her sister had left, that she wondered what Amanes could have posibably went through. That is for her to know and me to find out. She thought in amusment. When Amanes told Cicymyst that they were adopted sisters, her emerald gaze turned to him. She knew all too much of what the elves thought of her back in Ellesmera. She had given them a good fight for acting so cruel too. But she wouldn't do that to Cicymyst, plus her leg was still snapped in half. My leg! Maybe Amanes can fix it. She is a spellcaster of some sort. She thought staring at the elf and the half human.

[Cloquet]

Aldric's crouched down even more behind the crates. It seemed that he had been right in assuming that they would be to preoccupied to notice him. What an adventure, it was much more interesting to watch these warriors then to actually participate in the battle. A bit of guilt ran through his mind, but he brushed it off when he heard more war cries coming from the streets. Sounds like Ozig and the bears. He smirked. There was no doubt that Belatona would fall at their hands.

He directed his attention back to the group, as the elf woman asked for the man's name. He seemed a very experienced fellow, probably older then Aldric, but he wasn't good at guessing people's ages. Then he listened as the man call himself, 'Cicymyst,' and go on about his parents, tactics, strategies that he wanted to share with the Varden, ect. What an odd name... 'Cicymyst' He worded it silently trying to understand each aspect of it, Maybe it has to do with him being half elf... elves have some of the oddest names anyway.

Next the elf woman told them her name, 'Amanes Memorystalker,' Her story was very interesting and sad. It was very strange to know that she had seen the wonders of the elven city of Ellesmera. He would like to go there one day. He didn't know what he thought of elves, he didn't know if they even had emotions like humans or not, but hearing her talk made him realize that they were just as 'human' as.... well humans. The werecat seemed affected by her story as well, Didn't know they could feel anything either...

He felt a little awkward, spying on them and all. He considered showing himself, but then what would they say? Of course it would be bad to be caught by them, and he'd need a heck of a good explanation. In the end he found himself still crouching by the crates.

[cicymyst]

Cicymyst was a bit overwhelmed. First he slew over thirty soldiers, and then fulfilled his dream of joining the Varden, then he fought a ruder and barely survived, and now he was standing in front of a quite pretty elf who was supposed to be Silis' sister by adoption. If he wasn't so preoccupied with the battle, then he would be a little bit more flirtatious with the elf... As it was, the revelation was a bit of a shock for Cicymyst. His laid back personality lessened the shock, but still... He had read about nothing like this in all the various libraries he had either visited or broken into on his travels. This was... new.

Cicymyst nodded as he listened to Amanes' story, blushing despite his best effort when she batted her eyelashes at him, and then paced across the street as he lost himself in thought. As he thought his elf-ears picked up a slight intake of breath from behind a group of crates and barrels. He sidled over to the barrels very cautiously and casually, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. His heart began to pound in excitement, like it always did before a fight. He sat on an outlying crate, removed his helmet, ran a hand through his long-ish forward-growing ebony hair, and returned his thoughts to the question that had been posed to him by the pretty elf-maid. 'Sisters?' he thought incredulously, "That's never been done, as far as I'm aware." he added vocally. "I think that's fantastic, and probably means something special." He then moved a finger to his lips, winking at the elf to allay any possible fear. He had dealt with situations like this countless times (okay maybe not countless, but a whole heck of a lot), and he knew just how to respond to such an eavesdropper. He was totally relaxed as he prepared to spring...

[Kathena]

Amanes's ear caught a slight sense of movement which made her pause for a moment. Huh, she thought. What could that be? She didn't know, but she wanted to be prepared in case an Empire soldier leaped out at them. As Cicymyst get more tense, she put her hand on her sword handle, ready to pull it out in at any second. Running her fingers across it's cold stone leaves that weaved around it. She loved her sword. She had almost had it her whole life, it was the only thing she had had from the beginning of her life to the present. Everything else she had lost, but it didn't matter. Not anymore. Sure she would miss her past, but her friends couldn't be helped, Dubuer can't be helped.

The female elf turned to Cicymyst and smiled once more. He seemed to be taking it as all the others did... Thinking it was aquirred, but she didn't seem to mind. At least he didn't laugh at them. If he can take this then he has to be trustworthy. She told herself, blinking in a slight sense of shock at the half human. The female elf's tiny smile turned into a small grin. She hadn't met anyone new since she left Ellesmera, except for a few people on her jounrey, but that didn't turn out so well. Amanes twisted her curly hair with her left hand, the one that wasn't gripping her sword. She secretly hoped that it was an enemy warrior spying on them, but an ally would be just as good. She hated war, but she wished to prove herself to the Varden because she adores being trusted. But meeting a new friend can be just as pleasing at times.

"I'm glad the you don't think it's too strange," Amanes said with a smile. "Most people just laugh... And it isn't that weird having a werecat as an adopted sister. You get use to it after awhile. So, where did you use to live? You said you were protagè of Eberhardt Westy, correct?" She asked glancing at Amanes for a moment and then back to Cicymyst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silis watched Amanes and Cicymyst with a smile. She was happy for her sister. It didn't sound as if Amanes had seen anyone except for her dead friends for a long time. The large black cat flicked her tail and glanced around. She did catch the noise around the cargo, but she chose not to pay attention to it. Her claws were unsheathed and she was ready to fight if needed, but her leg still throbbed and needed a rest. She needed to find someone that could heal it, for she didn't want to wait months and months for a leg to heal! That a was pure waste of time. Yawning, the black werecat watched her friends once more.

[Cloquet]

Sweat started running down the sides of his face. The sun was beginning to rise higher into the sky, and with no battle to fight the heat was undoubtedly starting to get to him. He turned his back to the group and took his shield off, then his helmet. His forehead glistened with sweat and he closed his eyes for a moment. As far as an enemy attackwent he wasn't to worried, since everyone in the group seemed to be Varden, or joining the Varden, and the Varden was already beginning to take over the inner reaches of the city. He adjusted his position slightly to make himself more comfortable, That's it I have to show myself. There's no point in staying hidden any longer.

He averted his gaze back towards the group, but turned again in complete shock. The man named Cicymyst had finally caught on to Aldric's location. He was sitting on a barrel not five feet away from him, obviously getting ready to spring at him. He wouldn't kill me right? He knew that, that wasn't true though. Men like that could lop off thirty soldier's heads without a second thought about who's heads they were lopping off. No doubt he had a sword on him that could pierce through Aldric's armor like butter. The thought made his breath become more labored, and he felt him self begin to tremble. Strange, he had never thought that he would die in the alley ways of Belatona. True for a part of his life he had thought it would be a Varden soldier that would eventually get him, but that had changed once he had gotten older.

He shook his head slightly, such talk was unbecoming and he would not accept defeat so easily. Although he knew that he had to be careful now, the slightest bit of motion could set Cicymyst off. If he knows then do the others know as well? More then likely Amanes had caught on as well, since she was an elf. Quickly he tried to think of the possibilities to reveal himself before Cicymyst sprung on him. Fighting would be the stupidest thing to do, for many obvious reasons. So he did what seemed to be the best choice. He took his sword and pushed it into full view for the others to see, hoping that they would realize that he was unarmed which he was more experienced in than with the sword. He jumped up as fast as he could and lifted his hands into the air to show his empty palms. He took a step back, his heart beat thumping in his ears at a quick pace. “I'm no threat,” A very demeaning, yet true, statement, “I'm a courier for the Varden, my name is Aldric Elsterson.”

He let him self smile a little. Wow what an awkward situation. It almost made him laugh, but he kept himself from doing anything other then a faint smile, seeing as how it would be even awkwarder to laugh in the middle of a battle. He looked over to Amanes, finally seeing her face, and she was indeed beautiful. Elves were very beautiful of course, but he felt himself blush a little from looking at her. It made him feel even more embarrassed to know that he was being judged by a girl like herself.

[cicymyst]

Cicymyst whirled about, knocking the few crates and barrels that separated him and the eavesdropper and drawing his sword simultaneously, both well-practiced motions quick as lightning. He saw the blade slide towards him, which put him on guard immediately, red flags and warning bells going up and off inside his head. If the eavesdropper was willing to part with his sword, then he would likely be able to defend himself with his bare hands at least to a modicum. He closed the distance cautiously, his body tensely locked into his familiar ready stance, the friendly weight of the sword in his hands encouraging him. Cicymyst kept the point of his blade threateningly aimed at the man's face.

The absence of a crimson tunic was somewhat reassuring, but Cicymyst had been in enough scrapes with the Empire as to not put it past them to disguise one of their spies as a Varden soldier. Cicymyst gazed into the man's eyes, seeing a hard life, not too different from his own, reflect back at him. The man was sweating profusely, his exposed skin shining with his sweat. Cicymyst could also see him blushing at Amanes, and he felt a surge of rivalry rear its head, although he forced it back down.

"You may say that you are one of ours," Cicymyst said slowly, "but you must understand that your words have little value to us. How do we know that you aren't an Empire spy? The only way we can make sure..." Cicymyst paused here and gathered his entire mental strengh, "either obtain the truth if you cooperate, or pry it from you if you don't." With this warning Cicymyst launched several strong and accurate probes toward the man's mind, seeking his identity and allegiance. "Amanes, Silis, if you would back me up? I can take him, but it never hurts to have friends. That's what they're for, right?" Calling the two sisters friends gave him warm fuzzier, as it was the first time in two entire years that he could truly call anyone his friend.

[Kathena]

Amanes caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eyes, making her quickly unsheathed Arget Undir, her sword. But as the human came into sight so slowly lower her weapon. He didn't seem like any threat, and he had set down his sword. He can't be that bad. She told herself, glancing at him with her soft chocolate colored eyes. What a strange day. She thought. I have met two new people, I found my adopted sister, and I have been able to fight my first war with the Varden. The elf finished her train or thought, staring at the human. Aldric Elsterson. She repeated the name in her mind to make sure she wouldn't forget it before glancing at her hands. She was still holding her sword. Aldric said he was part of the Varden, and if so she wouldn't need her sword. Blinking slowly, Amanes pushed her sword into it's place in her belt and glanced down at her armor for no certain reason. Still shiney. She thought in approvial before looking back to Aldric.

"Nice to meet you, Aldric Elsterson. I am Amanes Memorystalker," the elf said in a low voice. She overlooked the human before glancing over to Cicymyst. What did he think about this man spying on them? Then she glanced over at Silis. She didn't seem to be much bothered, but she didn't seem too pleased either. What should I think then? She asked herself. She pondered on this for a few more seconds before continuing. I don't mind. It's fine with me. She finished her thought. With a small sigh, Amanes relaxed her shoulders, letting herself become less tense. Her thoughts became more simple as she just stood there and stared. It was surprisingly rather peaceful. She hadn't been at peace for a year. Every since she arrived outside of Belatona to join the Varden she had been breathing very roughly because of her wounds from the fight she had gotten in with Empire soldiers days ago. Now her breathing was smooth, and rather clear. It seemed like most the battle had calmed down quite a bit since it started, and everything was silent. Emily, Zilo, and Levonla were still nearby as far as she was aware of, but they didn't seem to be paying any attention to Silis, Aldric, Cicymyst, and her at the moment. She glanced calmly at Aldric and smiled.

"So how did you come to find the Varden?" She asked curiously. He doesn't seem to bad. She told herself. She had a bad habit of repeating things to herself... But sometimes she wished she didn't. It gets kind of annoying after awhile, but it's all worth it in the end. Reassurance could be a good thing, to change the bad things into something you could stand. She shifted her legs uncomforably, her brown leather boots squeaking slightly as she did. She almost giggled at the sound, but inside she just put a smile on her face. It seemed like a better solution.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silis blinked her piercing emerald green eyes at Aldric. He just set down his weapon as he approached them. Smart. The large black cat commented, swishing her tail back anf forth. The short haired female werecat stayed sitting down. The black cat turnedher head to the side, trying to observe the human closer. But Cicymyst was right. Why on earth should they trust him? She didn't see why Amanes didn't seem to think much of it, but she did agree with him.

"Mroew," the black cat muttered glaring at Aldric.

[Cloquet]

Aldric flinched a little when the blade was thrust at his face and his heart picked up another two beats. Cicymyst didn't trust him, which was made clear when he spoke again. That was probably a smart thing, he and Cicymyst were not to different, although it was obvious that Cicymyst had had much more training then himself. I could let him probe my mind like how the Varden did when I joined. The thought made him shiver, but it was the only way to get him to trust Aldric. Before he could suggest it though Cicymyst seemed to be a step ahead of him.

The shock of an alien mind entered his consciousness, forcing it's way through to his mind. It felt like a pressure was on his head, and he felt his knees shake a little from the sudden attack. He had heard that when that happened you were suppose to concentrate on one thing, but instead he let Cicymyst into his mind. Again he felt that terrible sensation of someone prying at his thoughts and learning every aspect of him. He felt that his privacy had been violated in a way.

Everything around him slowly refocused in his vision and he felt Cicymyst slowly begin to leave his mind. He knew that Cicymyst hadn't wanted to hurt him, only to see if he was a spy or not. At least now Cicymyst could vouche for him when he said he wasn't a rebel spy. The whole experience left him with a bad taste in his mouth and he remembered why he didn't like magic so much.

He spat on the ground then looked back over to the group. Amanes seemed to be calm about all of what had just happened, probably just her nature to be peaceful. He nodded his head towards her and mumbled, "Well met, Amanes..." His voice was weaker then he had anticipated. He tried regaining some of his prowess and tilted his head back slightly as he spoke, "I found the Varden on a nice day like this actually, I had set out from Feinster, the town of my childhood, and came upon Dauth. They reacted violently, but I managed to get myself into the Varden by letting them search my mind." He couldn't help but shiver slightly at the now fresh memory. He didn't feel the need to explain how he had worked at the docks for most of his life, nor did he want to tell about the orphanage, or how he had a brother and loads of friends, but he had no idea where they were, if they were fighting with the Empire, or if they were even still alive. He put a smile on in spite of it, such things did not need to be dwelled upon. Life will go on for him.

He glanced back quickly, wondering if it would be better for him to join in the battle once more.

[Emiryal ♕]

Firern glided over the city as both he and Emiryal surveyed the battle. Storm and Hyperion were gone. And he didn't know where any of the other Empire riders were. Firern dipped low and bathed the Varden soldiers in black flames before he glided towards their fallen comrade. Firern circled above Storm. He couldn't land or they'd be attacked by the Varden there. As it was arrows constantly were being fired at them only to be deflected by Emiryal's wards.

"Rest well elda-Storm and Hyperion. May you finally have the rest you deserve," he murmured in the ancient language. He didn't want to leave Storm's body there but there was no way they could bring it back with them. Storm was more than a century older than Firern.

Firern then rose higher after saying his own farewell then flew above the main fighting in the city. Emiryal amplified his voice with a spell before he took a deep breath an spoke. "Soldiers of the Empire! Retreat! The city is lost," he shouted. The Empire had lost and if they continued to fight they'd loose more men, men they would need for other battles. The Empire soldiers started to retreat at his command.

[Kathena]

Amanes glanced at Cicymyst, wondering why he would act that way towards a fellow Varden member. I guess he could always be an Empire spy like Cicymyst said... She thought, sheathing her sword. She didn't want to fight, but she believed him. If he story was true, he couldn't be a spy. The Varden wouldn't have let him in if they read his mind and he was a spy. The elf put her hand on her hip as she thought, her silver armor gleaming in the sunlight. At least he payed attention knew I said my name. She told herself, sighing. She wasn't as relaxed as before, but she was trying to calm down. She had no reason to be that stressed, and it wasn't good for her either. A small, warm breeze blew at Amanes's hair, knocking some of it in her face. The elf glanced at the curls infront of her chocolate brown eyes. Taking her hand of her hip, she tossed her hair out of her face. Glancing at Aldric once more she smiled.

"It's strange to have someone search your mind... It's almost just as strange to look through someone else's as well." The elf commented, glancing at Silis. The werecat knew very well why she was called Amanes Memorystalker. Her largest talent with magic was seeing into others minds, seeking their memories. It's a good thing to use in battle, but she always ended up in tears afterwards. It was a sorrowful thing to do, because the Empire's soldiers always had a sad past. She hated it, but what else would she do? She would have to kill them anyway. She might as well guilt them out of life, but deep inside she knew that was wrong. There was no way she could admit that to herself. She was to softhearted, to caring. How could she ever survive fighting? She had many weakness, but this was her largest weakness of all. Amanes touched her sword gentily to remind herself that she had to do this for the good of Du Weldenvarden. If news of the evil King had never reached Ellesmera then she would never be here, and her best friends wouldn't be dead.

"So, if the battle is over as some say, should we head back to camp?" Amanes suggested, hating to stay in the former city of the Empire for to long. It seemed so dreary... Hopefully the Varden could fix that. Glancing at the human, the half human half elf, and the werecat a faint smile grew on her lips. She had had a great day! She met two new friends, recovered from her injuries, and was reunited with her adopted sister. Nothing could be better, and nothing could make this day worse. It was perfect for now, except for one thing. She had no idea what happened to Azahel and Silis after she left Ellesmera. She wanted to know what happened to Silis, and she knew Silis wanted to know what happened to their friends along the way. There were things that must get done between them. Plus the streets of Belatona were still crawling with Empire spys... They creaped her out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silis glanced at Aldric, Amanes, and Cicymyst. they seemed happy talking to each other... To bad she couldn't join in. She hated being in werecat form, for she couldn't actually speak to any of her allies and foes. I can't wait to I can get back to camp. She thought happily. Then I can change back into humanoid form and really speak. The large black cat pricked her ears as she heard Emiryal's shout. Haha, and I can't wait for the next battle. I'll find a healer to fix my leg, and then I want my revenge. She told herself, flicking her black tail back and forth.

"Mreow," the black cat meowed hopefully in response to Amanes. She wanted to go back, she really did, but she couldn't walk there very quickly. Either way she would get there sometime within the day.

[Alanoth]

Both Merril and Ahrun watched as the stranger walked away. Ahrun simply turned his shoulder and went back to his seat, forgetting the man almost as quickly as he had noticed him. However, Merril lingered for a moment more, quickly raising her defense against his mental probe. The emotions that the man was projecting were clear, but Merril kept them out, not letting them color her own. However, the thing that shocked her most was the name. Alanoth.

The Elf had heard tales of Alanoth, one of the great riders from the founding of the order. Aside from Eragon, he was the only known rider never to bond with his dragon. She knew she had to work quickly.

With surprising speed, she set to her task, rushing to the underbelly of the Dragon, just as the Urgals continued to ravage its body. Drawing her knife, she uttered an incantation for sharpness, honing it and hardening it before she plunged it to its hilt in the chest of the dragon, just below the neck. Sinking her hand into the scaly crevasse up to the elbow, she spoke again.

"Gath Eldunari un lam iet!"

After a moment she felt an impact on her palm. Curling her fingers slightly, she stopped the large object from falling for long enough to reach in and grasp it with her left hand. It was the size of a small stew-pot. As Merril pulled it out, she hoped for the best, and was relieved when her eyes fell upon a clear gem. Storm had not had time to spill into his Eldunari. Her job here was done, and she could chase history. She sprinted after Alanoth, shouting over her shoulder to the Nar as she let the lifeless Eldunari drop to the ground.

"Nasuada will grant a place of honor to tribe Andaruk for delivering Hyperion. Good luck, great Nar."

Ahrun did not look up as she ran off. He cared not for the matters of Elves.

Following Alanoth, Merril came upon him as he waded into the fray. Climbing a nearby house, brick by brick, she moved herself above the melee, her inquisitive eyes watching.

Ozig nodded and ran with the dwarf and the Werecat to the nearby financial district. It was a bloodbath, and it appeared that the Empire was making a final stand before they would have no more organized lines and be reduced to small pockets of resistance around the city. After the fighters in the financial district were destroyed, the only obstacle left would be the remaining imperial riders. Ozig jumped right into the fray, clubbing down imperial soldiers frantically. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed an elf cleaving down imperial soldiers like a madman. It was strange to see an elf that looked old, but stranger to even see an elf in their ranks so far from the riders. Despite his skill, he was taking on entire blocks of imperials completely outnumbered. Just as Ozig was about to muster some varden soldiers to aid the elf, The members of Du Beorngar flocked to Ozig, having seen him enter the battle. It so turned out that they had been in the financial district with the majority of the vardeners, and Elgriq and the two others had fallen back, Ozig scanned his unit. The escort they had entered the battle with was gone, probably dead. The survivors, Ozig's family, Kyrik, and Hodvu were all bloodied and exhausted. His son, Jorix, was missing.

"Where is Jorix? He asked, worried.

Du Beorngar shrugged, and Ozig decided that it was time to keep his mind on the task at hand. Half-assuring himself that his son was fine, he raised his club and charged with the members of his berserker unit to the old elf's aid, smashing into the surrounding Imperials like a tidal wave, decimating the Empire's soldiers with ease, each warrior bringing his own skill to the table. Simpsov, Ozig's crazed son, tackled a soldier through a window into a storefront. Ozig made his way to the elf and dispatched a man aiming for the Elf's back.

"Aid has arrived, Elf. You are much needed at the front so that we may decimate the remaining organized force and then move on to the riders."

Ozig continued to fight near the elf, awaiting his answer. They would need him in the critical steps to come.

((ozig: my char has a hood up, no one can tell that he's old or an elf. whatever, I'll just say that and not let anyone know that Alanoth is half-human))

As the new Varden joined the fray, Alanoth found it difficult to answer their leader, a gruff man who wielded a hammer of sorts in battle. Alanoth was currently in a deadlock with a soldier bearing a greatsword of sorts. The soldier was very strong, Alanoth was actually having to try to fight this man off. The man was bleeding from several locations, yet he still fought fiercely, showing he was yet another of the painless soldiers that Galbatorix had created. Alanoth quickly drew a short sword with his left hand, stabbing it right into the soldier's left eye. The man went limp, falling over with a clatter as Alanoth put away his long sword, drawing his other short sword so as to begin fighting with his preferred swift slashes fighting style. Alanoth slashed into the back of some of the Empire's soldiers, working his way back to the gruff man with the warhammer.

When he got there, he finally answered the man while fending off blows from both the left and the right. "Your timing is good, these Varden warriors could use the help. As far as I know they've been fighting for hours, and they could use a rest. I'm fine, but if you hadn't arrived, I fear these warriors may have fallen no matter what I did." Alanoth spoke quickly, getting in his words between parries against three or four soldiers. The red armored soldiers fought wildly, apparently knowing that the upper hand was no longer theirs. When a rat was backed into a corner, it tended to fight back hard, and this situation was no exception.

After a moment of pushing back the soldiers he was engaged to, Alanoth finally noticed a similarity between the gruff man with the warhammer and the Varden whom Alanoth had originally been aiding. The warriors seemed to have a similar look about them, as if they each came from the same home or at least had known each other for some time. Evidently, the gruff man who had spoken to Alanoth was the leader of this group of able fighters, and now he was here to aid his men. A courageous act indeed, to put the lives of one's own men above his own life, something that was uncommon these days. Alanoth decided then and there to watch this man, to see just how far his courage, skill, and strength would take him. If fate was so merciful this man could help the Varden's effort infinitely.

Turning his attention back to the soldiers at hand, Alanoth quickly made a swift spinning maneuver, slashing the throats of each of the soldiers as his blades spun in a circle around him. Each gushed out blood, the soldiers grasping at their throats in vain to keep ahold of their lives that were quickly draining away. Alanoth turned to the gruff leader of these Varden warriors, finally responding to his request. "I'm afraid I can't help you at the front, I don't even know where the front is as of yet. These men need my help, and I'm sure that there will be smaller skirmishes and pockets of the Empire's resistance throughout the city. My help wouldn't change the situation in the front." Alanoth quickly probed the man's mind for a name before finishing speaking. "Ozig, leader of the Bears, I commend you for your honor and bravery, stay alive and keep fighting, the Varden need you, they don't need an old vengeance seeking relic like me."

Alanoth then broke away from the man, fighting his way deep into the fray, attempting to reach a pocket of Varden warriors who had become surrounded by soldiers who felt no pain. Beginning his deadly work, Alanoth called upon his memories of the artful fighting techniques of his days with the elves, beheading the Empire's soldiers left and right. His wards kept him safe from the blows he failed to dodge or parry, though each strike at his energy fueled the rage he felt from his renewed memories of the past, the pain and hatred of that traitor revitalizing tenfold. His eyes flooding with fury, he let out a mighty warcry as he decimated any and all of the Empire's soldiers in his way.

[Ozig]

Ozig nodded at Alanoth as he departed. He understood that the man was clearly here on his own business, and had chosen the winning side to use as a tool to accomplish that business. Another break in the fighting allowed Ozig to survey the field for his son, Jorix. In the heart of the city, not much could be seen but a long street full of dead bodies. Ozig realized that he was one of the few living people within view. He jogged around the corner, towards the din of another skirmish to find Du Beorngar taking on about twenty Imperial foot soldiers.

Ozig gritted his teeth and charged in once more. The grabbed a soldier from behind and threw him to the ground. He immediately stomped the man's head several times, creating a bloody mess on the cobblestone street. An imperial archer notched his bow and pointed it at Ozig, and Simpsov sprinted from across the street and tackled the archer through a storefront window just as the arrow released, sending it far from its mark. The remaining Imperials were vanquished, and Ozig let out a victory cry which the other members of Du Beorngar repeated. As he checked the bodies for loot and war prizes, Kyrik, the dwarf, yelled

"Ozig!"

Ozig turned to see the dwarf and the rest of the bears standing at the entrance to the store Simpsov tackled the imperial soldier into. Inside the building was his son, Jorix. He had two arrows in his lower abdomen and one in his leg. Mabryn was working on healing him in the ancient language. Ozig felt as if he was going to throw up. That was his baby bleeding on the ground. There was a blood trail on the floor leading to him. He must've been injured and then dragged himself in the building for cover. Ozig felt weak. The fire in his heart was immediately doused when he saw Jorix's blood, HIS blood on the ground. He had never actually realized that he was allowing his sons to risk their own lives while he fought to protect them. This would surely change everything. Ozig immediatley snapped back into his role as commander of their unit.

"Simpsov, Rikard, take Jorix back to camp and have him patched up further. You two get your rest its been a long day. The rest of you Come with me. We have to finish this."

Simpsov stood in protest and yelled "Father!"

Ozig turned and stared his son in the eye and said "What?"

Simpsov backed down and followed orders. Ozig and the rest filed out and proceeded to subdue the remaining little pockets of resistance. The Battle of Belatona was over, but Ozig seriously needed to re-evaluate his priorities in this war.