But the Joy Was Too Sad

To the third reviewer, Solangedrama. Why does no one else besides Armpit and Solangedrama review? Please, I will even accept anonymous flames. Somebody, help.

Now for my responses.

Solangedrama:Thank you. I was ill and had an Algebra final(I am in advanced mathematics. Advanced Algebra in sixth grade. YAY!) and hence I had little time. In the 30 minutes I had I plotted out a torture seen with hidden motives(I know. It amazes me too.) and wrote the chapter. In under an hour all told. Oh, and no, this will not switch ratings and become an M. However, I might push the limits, so who knows.

Criticism is good. Criticize me. Sometimes. Not too much though, and if you can't believe your character is not alive don't flame me. Other than that constructive criticism is absolutely brilliant. I encourage it.

Moving on, yes, Eragon is portrayed as corrupt, evil, and as an alcoholic. And I don't intend to change a thing. HA HA HA HA (hacking cough) ha.

Sorry for how slow I am going. It requires a little spare time. Sorry. I should have three hours a day past the twenty third of June, 2011, though, so my speed will improve to possibly two or three chapters a day. I am sorry for the delays. I just had my finals and three projects, so I was a little busy. Forgive me, sensei.(cries uncontrollably and is beaten up by a thick-eyebrowed weird guy with shiny teeth). A dedication to whomever guesses the reference in a substantive review.

Yes, Arya and Eragon do both drink. A lot. So no, this may occasionally seem OOC. That is deliberate. So don't whine,"But Murtagh was fwiends wif Ewagwon. Waaaaaaaaaaaa!" I don't care. And I did kill Murtagh off. Deal with it.

The overcast sky poured a deluge that seemed ready to drown the camp. The tents were sagging under the tremendous burden they were holding despite that very burdens refusal to weigh upon them long. Eragon walked out, careful not to wake anyone. Saphira waited outside the tent, humming a low c-flat. The dragon trilled the equivalent of an alarm clock at about eight. She had not done so yet.

Eragon clutched his head. Pain flared up whenever he stepped forwards, leading to him mentally requesting Saphira's help.

"Take me back to my tent."

"Don't get so drunk next time. Enjoy it."

"The torture or the drinking?"

"Both, little one."

"Like you had any-"

"Eragon, shut up."

"But I-"

"I said shut up, Eragon."

"Fine."

The magnificent beast began to land. The dragon's wings flapped slowly and majestically, lowering the creature to the ground. Eragon dismounted and stumbled towards the tent. As he entered he ran into a runner.

"Sir, Nausada has called a council to discuss the events that occurred yesterday."

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

Nausada paced. Her officers assembled, but they were slow in the morning. She looked around and smiled. One of those jackals on the Council had tried to out-politic her. That was a very, very bad decision. His body would show up in a pile of manure soon enough. The assassin had struck him down successfully, leaving her enemy in the next world.

Eragon shuffled in, clutching his head. The stupid fool had been so drunk that he had not even realized that it was two A.M. when he started to buy the brandy. He had stayed in the bar all night. Fool. Nausada put her usual expression, hiding her disgust at these annoying, but necessary pawns.

It had been easy to talk Eragon and Roran into torturing that soldier. She had simply fed him and Roran the story that he had helped destroy Carvahall and had guarded Durza as he tortured Arya. After whipping up some rage she had gotten them to do the job well, and the problem was solved. Now she had two new issues to deal with. Shadows and lies. Both so similar to what she had to deal with today.

She stood.

"Greetings, everyone. Today there are a few issues that we must deal with. Namely, our recruitment strategies and a few new ideas.

First off, we have recently come across a masterful fairth taken b our most noble Rider of a prisoner captured by one of the innumerable earls of the Empire for no reason other than sadistic enjoyment. We believe that mass distribution of this will assist our recruiters in their noble efforts. The average peasant is currently on the borderline between the Varden and the Empire, and we could always do with more sword fodder. Speaking of sword fodder, would King Orrin please present his report?"

"Naturally, naturally. At long last my researches have found a practical use. I was combining saltpeter and a few other elements when I chanced upon something quite explosive. And by explosive I mean literally explosive. It sent me flying across my lab. However, my records were reconstructible and soon I had found that this concoction could be used to, shall I say disconcert, the Empire. If we could put it in a casket and then have one of the DuVrangr Grata detonate it from a distance,rather than up close, we could more easily conquer the cities of Galbatorix. Lob it over via trebuchet, than any magician could detonate the casket. Other possibilities include burying, dragon-dropping, and even filling trenches with this powder. Think of the opportunity!"

"Thank you. Now, does anyone have any comments on either this or the recruitment plan?"

"One question."inquired Jörmundur, "Won't peasants be scared of the terrible vengeance their master will enact upon them if they disobey even more if we show them this? Because I know I would be."

Nausada replied swiftly.

"Yes, but you are smar enough to think of that. They are not. Any others?"

"I will not carry large caskets of explosive powder!" growled Saphira angrily, shocking everyone.

"Very well, we won't use that particular tactic. Now for the next part of our discussion. We need to decide on the administrative divisions of the territory currently conquered. First off, we have to decide on the division of the captured territories and other benefits among our allies. Feinster should be..."

After several hours the meeting broke up, to be concluded the next day. It was interesting enough, but Eragon knew that tomorrow would be fascinating. He could barely wait, he thought as he began to slumber peacefully.