Treachery:
Vroengard
Doru Areaba: Council Chambers
The council had erupted into heavy debate. The situation at hand was overwhelming. The only resounding noise in the normally ordered chambers was one of great disorder.
Suddenly, the chamber doors burst open, and standing in the doorway, the leader of the Riders, and head of the council, Vrael.
"Silence!" He bellowed, his dark robes swishing violently as he spoke. He looked around the chamber. People fell dead silent under the ancient gaze of their admired comrade. He spoke again, in a commanding voice.
"Men! Are you not the honored appointees of this grand council? Are you not defenders of the faith, and of the righteous heart that cries your names? Are you not… Riders?" He looked to one of his subordinates he had known personally for many decades. "Jharr… tell me. What has transpired? What is so grievous that our proud warriors quake before me like small children?"
Jharr looked uneasy. He pushed through some of the parchments that littered his stone top. He pulled one forth and kept glancing at it before gathering the nerve to speak.
"It… he, Galbatorix has just decimated our entire western offensive… and it is worse." He paused, looking around the room as others gathered themselves, knowing what he is to say. "And he has done such not only with Morzan, but with our own. Twelve of them."
Vrael did not blink. "What of the elves… and the dwarves? Will they heed our call? Will they aid us?"
A new man stood.
"Nay. They will not."
"Why, Galsch? Surely there allegiance does not stand to waver. They still support the cause of the just… do they not?" Vrael did not show emotion.
Galsch hesitated a moment before speaking again.
"The dwarves have never been much more than our friends… but they have no real loyalty to us when we suffer such a plight. Too many have fallen already, and… their natural distrust in our dragons has grown. I fear that if they were to stay, they may be driven mad. To a point of being dangerous." He seated himself back on his bench. "Unfortunately, we have already lost them in this war. They have retreated to their cities in the Beor Mountains… we cannot rely on them further."
Vrael crossed the room with a sullen expression on his worn face. He sat at his seat and interlaced his fingers together as he wearily prompted his next question.
"And what of the elves… what can we expect from them? Or have we failed them as well?"
Riskej stood. "The elves have felt that our efforts are in vain. …unlike the dwarves, they will re-supply us… but even their battle aid has been lost to us. From this point on, we fight this threat alone."
Vrael waved his hand and all the council members sat at their seats and grew quiet. He sighed heavily.
"So it has come to this… our allies are lost to us… our forces dwindling… our enemy growing. The time has come to save that which we can, and hope to give a false confidence to Galbatorix and his forces as he makes his way here… to the heart of Doru Areaba…
"Derash, take what dragons and hatchlings that remain to the eastern shores of Alagaesia. Young Galbatorix will not risk the entirety of the Hadarac Desert to pursue you, and crossing into the lands of the elves would mean his defeat. There you should be safe. Remember to stay to the north as you travel. West by the coast, north past the wastelands, over the uncharted lands of the Urgal's last territory, and into the sacred plains of the east. Yes… there you and the dragons should be safe.
"Shadoria, you will prepare our defenses here, to keep him delayed, and his forces at bay. Jharr, Galsch, Riskej, and the others will assist you. While I will stay here, and guard our city. If I can defeat him here, we can rebuild this land, and forever bury this painful history in the past… where it belongs."
He looked over everyone in the room.
"Remember, as we fight this threat, we do so not to preserve our name… but as our duty to all those who will suffer… should we fail."
He rose and the others followed his lead.
"Let us prepare… and let us fight, to victory!"