Hey guys. What do you think of my first battle scene? Point out any errors and typos please.

Eragon and Saphira were gliding above the centipede like Varden when a concerned Arya contacted them.

"Your presence is required Eragon, yours too Saphira, come quickly."

She was gone before Eragon could even ask why.

"They should be at the front of the Army," he told Saphira

"Yes, hold on tight little one; I would not want you to be blown away like a leaf."

Nodding to himself in agreement, Eragon tightened his silver bracers and clung to the sapphire spike protruding directly in front of him.

"Im Ready."

At his words Saphira angled her body diagonally and for a moment a primal fear gripped Eragon; then just as quickly the dragoness unfurled her velvety wings and swooped downwards at a expeditious rate: it seemed as if she was going crash into the ground; until, at the last moment, she pulled out of her dive and hurtled towards the front. The sudden inrush of air caused Eragon's eyes to water.

"The Varden have stopped."

"Let us discover why."

Nausuada's group of companions came into view as Saphira drew nearer. Saphira landed some feet away from the cluster of people and horses and Eragon nimbly leaped of her back and made his way towards Nausuada. His eyes taking in the scene: Arya was there, behind Nausuada's warhorse, she looked up and acknowledged Eragon with an exaggerated blink; Orrin was also amongst the crowd, quietly conversing with Nausuada. The rest of the congregation consisted of Nausuada's Nighthawks and both the Urgal's and Dwarf's represents. Blödhgarm and another elf were also making their way to the front to take up their duties.

Nausuada turned to face Eragon just as he was about to announce his arrival.

"Good, you are here, a huge problem just came up Eragon; figuratively and literally."

Concern gripped Eragon, "And what is this problem."

Orrin answered before Nausuada could so much as open her mouth, "Our scouts report a large force of soldiers, flying the banner of The Empire some leagues away," his voice was gruff, almost hostile.

"Where did they come from," Eragon remarked, astounded that a force of that size could evade them for this long.

"We do not know for sure," Nausuada admitted. "But we can make an educated guess and take this force to be Galbatorix's reserve."

Dreading the answer, Eragon asked, "How large?"

"At least thrice ours," Nausuada's voice was calm and controlled as if she was commenting on the weather.

"Damn!"

"This shaping up to a fine exercise, wouldn't you agree?" Saphira inquired.

"Speak for yourself."

"From whence do they approach?"

It was Arya who answered; lifting one flawless hand, "From there."

Eragon followed her line of sight, squinting. He could just make out a dark smudge in the distance and a few banners.

Turning his attention back to Nausuada, "What do you plan to do?"

"The enemy expects to catch us by surprise; it will impact their moral when they find us already formed up and ready; in that sense we shall withdraw... back to the hill we passed a few hours ago; there we shall form our battle line, ready to repel whatever attack they plan to launch."

"A good as plan as any," Eragon said.

"Aye, let us pray to the gods that it is enough."

(Time Lapse)

It was dark when the Empire's soldiers finally reached the Varden's army.

Eragon stood to Saphira's right hand side, equipped for war. His polished hauberk clinked with every movement outshining the helm he had borrowed from the Varden quartermaster.

Arya was at his side, whilst Blödhgarm and his elves took up position behind him. The princess was scrutinising the enemy force with great intensity.

Noticing this Eragon whispered, "Do you believe that we will be defeated?"

She didn't answer instantly and instead continued to survey the soldiers lining up across from them; then in voice even quieter than Eragon's, "No, this should be a easy enough victory: most of their soldiers seem afraid and inexperienced."

"I agree; a waiting game now I guess."

At his words both armies settled into an unnaturally silence; final prayers were recited and straps tightened as the men awaited the start of the battle. The Varden were under strict order not to charge they were to hold their positions, Nausuada had been adamant on this point.

A single clear note began from somewhere deep inside The Empire's ranks and resonated outwards: the men of the Varden waited with baited breaths.

Arya took a defensive stance, "It begins."

With a raw throated yell the rank upon rank of Empire soldiers charged up the hill towards the Varden. Saphira launched herself into the air, this had been the plan they had devised beforehand: Saphira would harass the soldiers from above whilst Eragon, Arya and the elves would fight on the ground as a single unit.

The distance was covered in a blink of an eye and Eragon soon found himself ducking from a swing off a might battleaxe and then quickly standing to finish the man off with a quick thrust from Brisingr. Bringing his arm up in a wide cleaving motion Eragon decapitated one of the men duelling Arya; blood and tissue spraying both him and the elven ambassador. His brief distraction allowed a young soldier to slice his left shoulder and Eragon growled as a white hot pain spread through his body, Blödhgarm quickly intervened, his mouth open in a savage snarl, he killed the warrior with two swift lunges from his razor sharp dagger. Satisfied that any current threat was neutralised, he crouched in front of Eragon covering him from further attack.

"Shadeslayer, is the wound serious?"

"Nothing that can't wait," Eragon replied.

"Wait?"

"It would take too long for me to heal it now, but it matters little: the wound is not hampering me in anyway."

Finished explaining Eragon dashed back into the fight, Blödhgarm at his heels.

The battle became very subdued after a while: Eragon found himself repeating the same manoeuvres with everyman he faced, from time to time he would catch sight of Saphira as she flew over his shoulder: spreading terror and confusion through the Empire's men. Eragon seemed to cheat death many a times throughout the engagement; just as a blade or mace made it ways towards his side it would be blocked by either Arya or Blödhgarm, The mindless slaughter carried on for so long that Eragon's basic senses began deserting him and the pain from his many wounds became a dull ache.

Slowly but surely the Empire began to fall and falter against the Varden's determined defence. Individual figures could be seen running for their lives, yet the death continued, clogging up the survivors nostrils as self-preservation took hold of men's bodies and adrenaline started to recede.

With a frustrated roar Eragon lunged forward, Brisingr outstretched, and impaled the veteran who had survived both of his previous attacks. His lifeless corpse hitting the ground with a soft thump, an uncertain silence once again gripped the vicinity. Looking around Eragon spotted Arya sheathing her sword with a weary expression and the fur on Blödhgarm settling back into its natural state.

"It's over...?" he croaked.

Looking up Arya gave a small, uncertain grimace, "It is."

A drop of crimson blood dripped down her face from a shallow cut on her cheek.

"But at what cost?"

A shrug was his only retort.