Vrael paused, his sword in hand. He slowly looked around, searching for the source of the brutish howl he had heard only seconds ago. It could be Urgals, queried Umaroth, Vrael's white dragon. Although I have no idea how or why they would come to the Palancar Valley.

"I don't think so. Urgals haven't been seen in the Palancar Valley since after Palancar himself was slain," replied Vrael. "I would hazard a guess at wolves, or maybe some type of wild bear."

Bears and wolves do not howl at a depth like that, Umaroth stated. It had to have been Urgals. Umaroth raised his head slightly, sniffing. I smell and sense nothing, at least nothing discernable from the wildlife, Umaroth said. Suddenly, another of the deep, throaty howls came booming out from the east.

"Definitely Urgals," Vrael muttered. He sheathed his sword, climbed up onto Umaroth's back, and told the dragon "Fly towards the location of those calls as fast as you possible can!". Within seconds they were up almost a hundred feet, and soaring over the woody expanse of the Palancar Valley.

I still don't think that was Urgals, said Umaroth as his great wings beat the sky.

"It doesn't matter, it could be Galbatorix for all I care, we're going to find out what it is," replied Vrael. "I won't have people thinking I'm a Dragon Rider leader who's afraid of a couple of howls."

Now you're being overconfident. Just do this as you do all of your other missions, and don't worry about what the rest of the world thinks, chastised Umaroth.

Vrael muttered something about impertinent dragons, which made Umaroth snort. Even if people think you're a cowardly leader, they'll always appreciate your sense of humor.

"All the humans would respect me for is being a fool, if you had your way."

And I would burn those who said so into a thousand ashes, replied Umaroth. He blew a short spurt of fire, which blew back onto Vrael and set his hair on fire.

"Eitha brisingr!,"cried Vrael. The fire extinguished, leaving his hair undamaged. "Could you please not do that?," he yelled in annoyance.

Umaroth was laughing so hard that he couldn't even thought-speak. After about a minute, he replied, you always make yourself look like a fool when you do that. It doesn't matter that you are the oldest elf rider, you act like the child you once were. It reminds me of the days of Ellesmera, before the world was changed and the humans arrived.

"I remember the time well. The world has changed us, for better or worse, Umaroth." said Vrael in a melancholy tone. He felt around in the saddlebags for a small rock that he had found in his childhood, when Umaroth was but a hatchling. Suddenly, Vrael sensed alarm in Umaroth's mind.

Look, Vrael-elda. Smoke!, Umaroth said.

"Land near it. If it is Urgals, we should take them by surprise," replied Vrael. The Rider drew his gleaming white sword, Islingr, and leaned forward slightly as Umaroth touched down. Slipping off Umaroth's back, Vrael crept forward, checking his surroundings with magic. Whatever was up ahead had some kind of ward that prevented its owner's notice from other magic users. Invoking the ancient language, Vrael whispered, "skolir Shur'tugal e skulblaka Umaroth."

Why shield us when our wards can do far better?, asked Umaroth.

"Because we have no idea who or what is up ahead, and I'd rather not find out the hard way.", replied Vrael. He crept forward and uttered a new spell, "finna du haina achr." The spell directed him to four Urgals up ahead. Three, two, one, go!, cried Umaroth. Vrael sprang out of the shadows, his sword drawn. The Urgal nearest to Vrael had precisely a second to wonder at who his attacker was, before his head was removed from his shoulders.

The other three Urgals utter deep war cries and drew their weapons, two swords and an axe. One of the sword Urgals slashed at Vrael. With lightning speed, Vrael flipped his sword up, blocked the blow, and spun his blade under the Urgal's guard to puncture his stomach. As the axe Urgal approached, the other sword Urgal slipped behind Vrael. Without even bothering to turn around, Vrael focused his power on the Urgal and cried, "Thrysta!". The Urgal was thrown thirty feet back, straight into Umaroth's waiting claws. As Vrael raised his sword to parry the axe of the remaining Urgal, he noted the sound of ripping flesh and the occasional Urgal scream of pain. He slashed at the Urgal's neck and was surprised when the Urgal blocked the blow.

"Dauth eom haina achr!", yelled Vrael. Instantly, the Urgal crumpled to ashes. Panting, Vrael wiped the Urgal blood off Islingr, sheathed it, and sat down on one of the camp stools the Urgals had been occupying moments earlier. "That was…not what I was expecting," panted Vrael. "I really need...to get out more.".

I, on the other hand, enjoyed tearing that foul Urgal to pieces, quipped Umaroth. The dragon flapped his wings restlessly, then settled back down into a relaxing position. I am glad that we rid the Palancar Valley of this foul menace. But I still do not understand; why were they here?

"We could look through their bags, and see if there is anything to justify our suspicions," replied Vrael. "I have a couple inferences, one of which is that they are with Galbatorix the rogue. If so, it would explain why they had wards of hiding upon them." He picked through the bags two of the Urgals had carried as he spoke finding only rotten meat, some small trinkets, and a dagger with what seemed to be a human baby's arm bone as a hilt.

It could be that if it was Galbatorix, he placed wards on these Urgals that dissipated when the aforesaid died. Or possibly Galbatorix taught one of them limited knowledge of the ancient language, wondered Umaroth. It's unlikely, but possible.

"No, I think that my hunch is correct. Galbatorix would not waste time turning battle-hardened Urgals into spellcasters. I think it could have been...aha!", Vrael cried, lifting carefully a small, easily concealed amulet, shaped like a red skull with emeralds for eyes. "This is how. Galbatorix put wards on this amulet that fizzled out when the Urgals died. I have no doubt that Galbatorix is using Urgals, for better or worse."

At least he isn't using shades, or other foul, evil, things like the Nidwhal, murmured Umaroth. The dragon raised his head slightly. I would hate to have to disembowel the shade, like the last time.

"Umaroth, this is no time for jokes. We need to get back to Vroengard and alert the council of this. They will hopefully begin a full armament," Vrael chided. "Quickly, we must return to Vroengard." Vrael stood up, stretched, and climbed onto Umaroth's back.

You are sure that this is Galbatorix's doing?, asked Umaroth.

"Yes, I'm sure. I sensed his stench all over that amulet.", replied Vrael. Umaroth's great white wings rose like a sheet, and the rider and his dragon flew off towards Vroengard Island, home of the Dragon Riders.