Alagaesia High
Chapter 8
'Ello! Just a little greeting from your friendly neighborhood creep! I just realized, quite suddenly, that I have not advertised with this story yet! I mean advertising good authors and forums and such. I'm also going to have a rant, after the story. Read it through, if you want. I'll give you virtual monkey bread! And now, recognizing my excellent reviewers. Here we go!
ExA-mazing: Many thanks, friend. I appreciate you people that take the time to review. Ya warm my soul (Which is located directly behind the pancreas).
Axel 16: Well, yes, they are. And I'm sorry about moving fast, it is a flaw born of writing adventures and hating suspenses. Humors also can't move slowly, because they lose their namesake, "humor". So it is an honest problem, though a problem nonetheless.
The Ghost Who Walks: Ah yes, hello Severine. I wonder what would happen if Scott and Severine would meet. Probably some bad junk. Scott always has a bobby pin, and those things are useful little sabotage devices! I picked a lock at my school once with one. Kind of hard to explain to a teacher, that. This chapter will be pretty craziness, and very little romance. Lots of drunken people. And a bit of violence. I think I should roll out the bar fight, but if that sounds awful to you, just don't read this chapter. It's not important. I think. And weird is good, strange is bad.
Eragon bumped and churned down the road towards the club, occasionally bashing his head on something. His truck had issues on good roads, much less this faint trail of gravel. He knew without looking that Arya was in her car, right behind him.
He grinned. This was a fine way to end a day.
A sudden lurch flung Eragon into the door. He grunted and regained control. He pulled into Dras-Leona Docks parking lot and hopped out. Arya slid in next to him and followed suit.
He jogged into the building, holding the door for Arya. He squinted his eyes, trying to see through the pallor of smoke that lay over the room. Music pounded in his ears, and people thrashed on the dance floor. Eragon shook his head. He would probably be sticking to the bar or parlor, a little peaceful cellar left over from Prohibition.
He grinned. Arya stood out in her green velvet dress, surrounded by badly dressed dancers. Suddenly, Arya just slipped out of her dress, revealing her jeans and t-shirt. Eragon smirked. Just like Arya to wear that under her dress, just in case.
She turned and tossed the dress to Eragon. "I'll put this in my truck!" he shouted over the clamor.
"Okay!" She hollered back, then headed over to the bartender. Eragon opened the door and stepped out into the sunlight, gulping warm air. He shook his head. How Roran could dance in there for hours was beyond him.
He jogged to his truck and folded the dress, almost reverently, then placed it inside. He locked the truck and turned around.
The keys clattered to the pavement. Walking towards the bar was Galbatorix, Murtagh, Thorn, and Shruikan. Eragon gulped and retrieved the keys.
Just my luck, he thought glumly, then trotted back into the club. Arya was waiting for him, a glass bottle in either hand. Eragon raised an eyebrow, but then realized that they were Coke bottles.
"Many thanks." He delved into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. Arya stumbled backwards. He quickly caught her, then explained "I have a bottle opener on it."
Arya blushed, embarrassed of how she had reacted. Eragon didn't notice, and just popped off the cap. He turned to her.
"I can open yours." He offered, holding out his hand. She grinned and wordlessly handed it over. Eragon popped the cap off with practiced ease. Arya raised an eyebrow, and shot him a questioning glance. "I used to work at the Seven Sheaves, over in Carvahall." he explained, returning the bottle. Arya nodded.
"Well, well, well, fancy meeting you here." A deep voice mocked from behind Eragon. Eragon slumped in despair. He knew that voice all well. "Are you not going to respond? That's commonly considered rude. Or do you even acknowledge etiquette anymore?" The voice continued.
Eragon began to slink away, but the deep voice called him back. "Now, I wouldn't want to force someone to be civil, but if that's what it takes…" Eragon sighed.
"Hello, Galbatorix." He muttered meekly.
"Hello indeed." Galbatorix huffed. "I believe that it may be wise of you to leave." He suggested, a thread of steel in his voice. Eragon scampered away, and Arya made to follow him, but Galbatorix seized her wrist like a vice. "I said nothing about you leaving, beautiful." He snarled.
Eragon seized Galbatorix by the collar and growled "If you so much as touch her again, I will teach you what hell really feels like, you son of a-"
Roran burst in between the two of them. "What'sh going onnn here?" He demanded, clearly quite inebriated. Murtagh silently stepped up and punched Roran, hard, in the jaw.
Immediately, Katrina wrapped her arm around Murtagh's throat in a chokehold. Eragon swung at Galbatorix, savagely driving him backwards. He was dimly aware that Arya was grappling with Shruikan, and that Saphira was driving Thorn away with her ferocious kicks. She wore steel-toed combat boots, as well, as hardened leather gloves.
Eragon saw nothing but Galbatorix, heard nothing but Galbatorix, and knew nothing but Galbatorix. The room burst into confusion as people rushed to join the brawl. But for the most part, no one came near the two of them, locked in each other's grip, swinging each other about.
Galbatorix slammed Eragon into the wall, and then began pounding his midriff. Spots danced before Eragon's eyes, as he gasped for air, only for it to be knocked out of his lungs again. Suddenly, the brutal beating stopped.
Roran grappled with Galbatorix, crashing into things. Roran was the larger of the two, but his blows were clumsy and slow, due to the copious amounts of alcohol in his system. A few men held Roran's arms behind his back, while Galbatorix pounded him repeatedly.
Eragon seized the nearest thing to him and hurled it at Galbatorix's head. The target of the assault collapsed as a glass bottle of Absolut shattered over his skull.
One of the men holding Roran staggered away, holding his nose, which was bleeding from the impact between Roran's head and the man's nose.
Eragon stumbled through the chaos to Shruikan, swung him around, and smashed his fist into the tall African man's temple.
Seizing Arya by the waist, he helped her out of the door. Roran staggered out after them, Katrina slung over his shoulder. Together, the thrashed group stumbled to their respective vehicles.
Eragon began to race back into the building, but Thorn's unconscious body flew the doors, followed by Saphira striding out purposefully. And thus, Eragon hopped in his dented truck and drove away.
Raudhr Blodhgarm has instructed me to inform you that he is deeply apologetic about the lateness of the chapter, and any lack of quality that may arise. He would also like to thank Ghostling for reviewing his "awful" Grinch story, which is on hiatus, as well as all stories save Alagaesia High School and a Tale of Three Druids. I would also like to inform all of you that I warn Ghostling against suggesting that I am a bad secretary, and that I did not plant the hidden sticky bomb in her house that may coincidentally detonate if such a suggestion occurs again. Entirely by chance.
-With many implied threats and death wishes (Not mine, yours),
Scott, founder of Scotland. (That's a long story.)
Hello, it's me, the author, just letting all of you know something. Sometimes I think I've gone insane. The rest of the time I'm sure. Or, as Scott puts it, Sometimes, my mast- I mean boss doubts his sanity. Then I wonder what he thinks the rest of the time. By the way, I have a rather obscene lack of morals and am very mercurial. I also devised a scheme to make more money than any other person my age. I buy a sheet of plywood. This costs 20$. Then I buy some paint, colours copper, gold, silver, and purple. I buy a dragon head stencil, as well as an eagle head one, and 10 belts. The total cost is 75$. Then, I cut the 8x4 sheet of plywood into 4 large rectangles and 16 small ones. The large is double the size of the small. I round the corners, and slice the belts into short straps. I attach these straps to the wood in a manner of shield handles. I paint the four large ones gold, and stencil a silver dragon head in the center. I paint four small ones silver, with a gold dragon head. I paint four small ones copper, with a silver eagle head. Finally, I paint the last small ones purple, and carve runes in a border. Then, I sell all these at the farmers market, 30$ for large ones, and 20$ for small ones. The profit is $440. The net profit (So deducting the cost of manufacture), is 365$. A batch. This is happening, right now, people. I also have Groose Almighty working for me, for $5 an hour. I am not in high school yet! Thus, I do believe that I am the coolest damn person that ever walked this earth. At least in the last 50 years. Steve Jobs invented the Internet, in case nobody knows.