A silennce hung thick inn the air on the approach to Firebrand keep, as Eragon the Dragon Rider and his fellow shoulders strived towards the desolate-looking ofrtification. Mere months ago, his uncle Garrow had been murdered, he became a dragon rider, slain a shade, and so much more. not far from no was what it had all been leading up to.

Their rebel army struck the fort wall and began digging into it with picaxes under the sudden twang of unseen arrows and the loud slosh of boiling oil. Eragon on his dragon, saphira, lurched earthwards and saphira spewed flames at the archaers, who fled and caught her in a great net flung by arrows, and climbed upon her in great numbers wielding clubs. They struck madly at Eragon and Saphira, slicing armor, flaying scales, kicking, clawing, grabbing. suddenly, some of the Urgals, collaped, struck to the brains by dwarven axes, and the dwarves who slew them turned around weightily and sliced the spines of their Urgal pursuers, with an audible crash. Urgal archers, shifted their direction, and soon the dwarves staggered backwards with lifeless, pierced eyes. A pressing of shields could be heard on the edge of the thick walls, and Varden fell far between the gaurdposts to perish on the ground below. Others were caught however, and Urgals climbed down on ladders to fight them, grabbing their foes weapons and stricking with mindless abandon, before turning on the diggers. As Eragon and Saphira were still pinned to the wall, the ground rumbled.