Disclaimer: I don't own any Eragon/Eldest characters, just the plot for this story and an extremely P/O-ed tree. I also don't own any Mark Twain expressions or phrases.

Back at the camp...

Arya huddled closer to the meager fire they had managed to kindle under the eaves of the cave, thinking, 'I wonder where Eragon is?'

She felt confused after Eragon had stalked off in a huff about a simple math problem. He was so impatient, and quick to ask for help when logically he could just figure out the problem by himself.

He's acting so strange these days, she mused and scanned the forest for any signs of movement, remembering the last 'episode' Eragon had...

The group had been hiking up a craggy cliff in search of a strange herb that Angela had been running low on. Arya had already been in a bad mood, for the herb had, as Angela disclosed in an agitated whisper, "Why, Arya! Mercywort is a very useful herb to have! I could simply not do without it!"

When Arya had pressed her for information about the uses of Mercywort, and why it was so important that they got the herb NOW, Angela said:

"Mercywort provides a tingling sensation in the abdominal regions, the bottom of the instep region, the armpit region, the lower mandible region, and underneath the fleshy cartilage that promotes sound."

"WHAT?" Arya shouted, clearly peeved that Angela wouldn't give her an answer that she could comprehend, (again).

Angela looking rather miffed, replied, "Also known as Paresthesia---"

"ANGELA, IF YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT THIS PIECE OF CRUD DOES---"

"—which induces high central nervous system stimulation in the afore mentioned areas—"

"—I'M GOING TO TAKE ONE OF YOUR TOADSTOOLS—"

"—and impulsive chortling, (By the way, it's frogstools, my dear)—"

"—AND SHOVE IT—"

"—accompanied by frenzied movement—"

"—UP YOUR—"

"—commonlyknownastickling." Angela finished hurriedly.

Arya stood, mouth a gape, about to scream an obscenity, absolutely shocked.

"Tickling, my dear, tickling." Angela said, impatient at Arya's dumbness.

(A/N): Not dumb as in stupid, dumb as in unable to speak.

Arya closed her mouth with a snap and fixed Angela with a beady glare.

"Mercywort, also known as abomenalia pokishneunim, induces tickling throughout the body where nerves of high numbers are contained."

Arya crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

"That's why you have to get Mercywort NOW," Angela finished triumphantly.

Arya took a deep breath and exploded, "WHYSHOULDICAREABOUTATICKLINGHERBTHATDOESN'THELPANYONE!"

(Translation: Why should I care about a tickling herb that doesn't help anyone!)

Angela stepped away from the distraught elf and started puttering around her tent, replying, "Mercywort, when mixed with certain poisons, or other herbs, is very dangerous, and highly effective when administered properly. The herb by itself is harmless. But when mixed, the herb's properties are warped and, as you say, 'scrambled', into something of darker portents.

When administered with poison, the herb begins to work its effects immediately. The victim starts to laugh hysterically, and without reason, when, first, his/her feet start feeling 'ticklish'. Meanwhile, the poison dulls the feelings in the feet while the victim is laughing.

As the victim starts feeling ticklish in other areas, moving upward from the feet, the poison dulls those senses too. Lastly, the victim feels ticklish right near the neck, and the poison slowly cuts off the artery from the brain to the heart..."

Arya stared, "And?"

Angela started mashing rosemary in a small bowl, and busied herself before answering, "The victim, having ingested the Mercywort, is still busy laughing while all body functions shut down."

Arya's eyes went wide with realization, and said shakily, "You mean—"

Angela turned an about face to Arya and replied in a low tone,

"Yes, the victim literally dies laughing."

Arya's breath caught in her throat and gazed at the herbalist warily before saying, "Where is this herb to be found?"

Angela replied, surprisingly cheerful again, "Oh, it's just a short walk up some cliffs called 'Dramur Wyrda'."

(A/N): Translates into 'Dream Fate'. (Working with limited resources here.)

Arya sighed, rather exasperated, "All right, I'll go."

(A/N): Okay, so I haven't finished Arya's flashback thingy yet. And, I don't know if 'Paresthesia' actually is the right term, and I just made up the medical term for tickling since I couldn't find it anywhere, and Mercywort, but whatever...

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