To compensate for the abysmal length of this chapter, and for the long wait, I'm putting up chapter 9 today as well!
Chapter 8: Five Minute Flight
Everyone loves an epic chase. Whether it's good chasing evil, demons chasing humans, or the police chasing Pete Doherty, chases are great. Less so when said epic is shrunk. It was shrunk so much that I couldn't remember wha…sigh Look, I'm sorry, alright? I know I'm missing a large chunk of the film, but you should be grateful for what you're given, then shut up. Yeah, life sucks.
Skipping ahead to what I remember, Eragon and co. found the entrance to Farthen Dûr, only to find that it was closed (Shock! Horror! Yawn!) as the urgals moved in on them. Saphira was a raging ball of fury. Swinging her tail and slashing with her talons, she sent urgals flying like feathers in a storm, or chavs at the Download Festival. But no matter how ferocious she was, she was nothing compared to the rage that was to come.
Orik's straw shot out of his mouth as he choked. As soon as he could breathe, he leapt to his feet and shook his fist at the screen.
"Where am I?! How dare they make an Eragon film and not include me!"
"Calm down, Orik!" shrieked Angela. "There, that's you!" She pointed to the screen, now showing a dwarf who did not speak, but just looked sorry for himself
"That is not me!" He bellowed. "All dwarves can recognise each other, by their beards! His beard is 3 foot 8 inches! Mine is 3 foot 9! Imposter!"
