And so it began. The siege upon Vroengard, the island across the sea, was under attack. Perched on a hill, overlooking the Rock of Kuthian, Vrael and his pale dragon oversaw the preparations for the war against the dark elves. In the valley stood Galzra, the Lone Rider. Having lost his dragon in a war with the Urgal shaman while assisting the dwarves in their war versus the Urgals that had refused to make peace after the dethroning of Galbatorix.

Hearing the thump-thump of the marching infantry and the clacking of the cavalry along the stone plain, Vrael felt a sense of pride yet also doubt, for Dark Elves were far superior to human ability in almost every aspect; but dark elves did not have dragons. Taking position in the valley, the front lines condensed to form an almost beetle-like formation to protect from Elvish arrows, and Galzra chanted an incantation, encasing the legion in a translucent purple shield. The cavalry positioning themselves at the rear of the plains, and the archers and rangers stringing their bows and crossbows on the platforms in the tall Moonwood trees surrounding the field, the preparations were almost completed. Hearing the intimidating beat of dragon wings, the thunder of scaled fliers approached. Headed by Eragon, mounted upon his sapphire dragon, the thunder drew closer until they landed on a nearby plateau. "They approach!" Bellowed Galzra, and looking towards the sea, Vrael saw the ruby sun pockmarked by Dark Elf fliers upon their griffins and pegasi approaching, most likely wielding their poison tipped lances. Remounting their dragons, Eragon motioned to the riders to split up and flank the attacking force, his son, Chrom, leading the left flank that was comprised of wyverns and the occasional sylph into their side. Eragon, leading an attack made up of only dragons, used spell power and axe-wielding Riders went to cut into the body of the aerial adversaries.
Flying to the beach upon his alabaster mount, Vrael went to place wards upon their fleet that counter most of their terrestrial assault. Sliding to a halt upon the beach, Umaroth blew a pillar of white-hot fire to the skies, an admonition to their attackers. Muttering spells to shield the ships of any aerial assault or shrapnel produced by the ramming. Leaving the beach, the vessels approached each other, rangers cocking their crossbows to prevent any boarding. Crack. The first two ships collided, splintering the Elvish craft as the Vroengardian vessel pushed back, leaving the elves to drown. Raining fire upon another ship was Umaroth, eviscerating the passengers with ivory talons and incinerating their ship. Firing arrows from the deck of their ships, the rangers blocked entry onto their ships while Vroengardian warriors threw axes and javelins to passing ships in hopes of preventing them from reaching the shore. The sea was on fire, green, purple, white, the strange waters of Alagäesia burned in a variety of colours. Looking to the skies, Vrael saw that the Elvish aerial assault had been repelled by the work of Eragon and Chrom. Though this was only a mere taste of war, this first win may produce even more victories.

AUTHOR'S NOTE
Yes, I realise that this was a short chapter, however, I aim to make most of them 1k-1.5k words. This will not be a one-shot.
I will include the bio for characters I've created and such in my next addition.
This is my first FanFiction as well as my first real story that I've ever written

See you later- LM

(all credit to Christopher Paolini and the Inheritance Cycle