The sun was starting to rise, spreading a warm glow onto the land beneath it. With the light allowing a person to see, a sight was sawn that few men wished to view. The light glinted eerily off the weapons and armor of the Varden army.
Swords were held at the ready, spears ready to pierce or be thrown, and arrows were knocked into place. Before them stood a city, while smaller than Feinster it was still a city, with grand walls and towering towers. A gigantic wooden gate plated with iron was the objective for the invaders.
Break it down and take over the city. It was easier said than done. Fighting had not broken out yet but the Varden were not foolish to think for even a moment that there weren't protective spells or wards placed onto the gigantic gate.
Roran Stronghammer, cousin to the famed Eragon Shadeslayer and son to Garrow Cadocson, was with his squad. Thirty men large, their armor was not shining steel, instead it was black. Not even the sun was able to make the armor glint. They were the stealth ops if you wanted to put a label on it.
They would hang back while the Varden's battlements hammered down the wall, no one doubted that the walls would not fall in a day, so when night came they sneak across the battle field. Jeod had discovered a small sewer passage in the small river that entered the city, it was bolted shut of course.
Luckily for the Varden, Aroughs did not expect them to know of the small passage much less use it. A man could barely fit in the narrow passage, for them to even think of using it never crossed their minds.
They say ignorance is the downfall of man, and in this scenario they were right.
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The Creaky Kettle tavern was in the more shady parts of Teirm. Laborers spent their measly wages on the cheap mead and slightly spoiled food, and trying to catch the attention of any bar maid foolish enough to come near them.
The common fashion for most of the occupants in the dingy tavern was to wear cloaks that hid their appearance, their faces covered in shadows.
Ronan fit quite well in, with his pitch black robe and his hood covering his face, he had also added a small spell to make sure it never fell back unless he wanted it too, and there was always a shadow covering his features. Obviously if a skilled enough magician were to come and actually tried to find the spell they probably could, but Ronan was confident that a magician of that zeal would spend their times at a more lavish tavern, rather than this run-down building.
The reason for coming to this building was because of its more dirty dealings. This was the usual hideout for the cities most notable criminals, thieves, spies, killers, and practically any other notable crime lord.
It was also a recruitment ground, any person wanting to find a little gold and perhaps, if they were lucky, some helpful contacts. Ronan had found out quickly, with the help of breaking into a couple peoples' minds, that one of the most powerful crime lords, whose field of work was spying, had a secret hideout underground. The only problem, Roran had no clue of where the hideout was.
Sure he could use his magical skills to find it, but Teirm was huge. He didn't doubt for a minute that if he actually tried that the cities magicians and the guards would be on him in a second. He knew that if that happened then Bjartkoü would appear to rip them to shreds, but even if they managed to kill the magicians and guards, a whole city had suddenly seen a gigantic white dragon bigger than a two story house and a Rider, and then the Ra'zac and Murtagh and Thorn and maybe even Galbatorix would be here in a heartbeat.
So yeah no magic, at least not the big stuff.
Ronan would have to do things the old fashioned way, gain the man's trust until he could actually see the big man in person. Ronan remembered an old Rider saying.
Those who are patient are rewarded while those who move without thinking lose their lives. Patience it is then.
Ronan saw the man he was looking for, he wore a dark crimson robe and hood; he saw the symbol of some sort of eye on his sleeve. The symbol of the guild he was looking for.
Ronan paid for his drink before going to the man's table and sitting down across from him. The man inspected him while he drank his mead. "The shadows are your friend, eh?" he asked with a chortle as he tried, and failed, to see through the dark shadows on Ronan's face.
"It helps that no one can pin things to me if they can't even see my face," Ronan replied back.
"Ehehe you speak the truth my mysterious friend, now tell me," he leaned forward and Ronan saw through the man's cowl unnaturally bright blue eyes piercing at him, "why are you here?"
Ronan leaned forward as well, "I hear that your boss has some of the greatest spies across the entire land of Alagaesia, both in the Varden and in the Empire…. It's obvious, I want information."
The man was silent before he started to laugh hysterically. The other occupants turned a curious eye to the laughing man and the impassive Ronan.
The man wiped away a couple tears that had no doubt sprung from his eyes, "oho I must give you a drink. I don't think I have heard such a good joke for quite awhile."
Ronan said nothing. He merely stared at the man. He slowly channeled magic to his cowl and the man with bright blue eyes suddenly saw hazel eyes appear in the dark shadow.
The man's amusement was wiped away, "hmmm…. So you're a magician." It wasn't a question, more of a statement.
"I guess you could call me that." Well he was technically a Rider, but he didn't have to know that.
The man fished out a gold coin to pay for his drink, he fiddled with the piece of gold as he pondered his next words, "how good of a magician are you?"
Ronan stared at the gold coin, and he whispered so softly the man did not hear, "brisin ginka." The man watched with curiosity as the coin suddenly caught fire, he casually placed it on the table and watched it burn. When Ronan cancelled the spell there was a small burnt hole in the table but the coin was gone.
"You owe me a coin," the man merely said.
Ronan fished out a coin before giving it to the man, "I understand if you do not trust me, in fact I wouldn't have asked for your service if you had trusted me so easily… so here is my offer." Ronan said, "I work under my mentor, and he and I need information on both the armies. I offer you my services if it means that you and your boss will slowly begin to trust me."
"Who is your mentor?"
"I'm afraid I can not tell you, but I'm sure that if I did tell you, you wouldn't believe me. He is quite famous."
The man seemed to ponder on this before he reached out to Ronan, "welcome, we could use someone like you…. What's your name? Don't ask mine cause I won't give it to you, just call me Surt."
Ronan shook his hand, "call me Freohr."
Ronan could tell the man was smirking, "Shadow, eh? Yeah you'll fit in nicely."
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Eragon sighed as he meditated inside the cave, he was channeling his surplus energy into Undbitr, the medium size gem in the pommel thrummed with the energy he had placed within it. The other Eldunarì were channeling their energy in Beloth the Wise.
Saphira was waiting outside of the cave with her saddle strapped to her back, Eragon knew that the Shrrg pups could look after themselves, they had gotten much bigger in the past couple weeks. They weren't full-grown but he didn't think any predator would go after them, they could hunt in the desert and he had created a large pool of water for them.
Eragon grabbed the necessities he would need for the trip before saddling Saphira. Without a word spoken between them Saphira launched herself off the cliff and with a couple furious and mighty beat of her gigantic wings she headed south-west.
The desert was an endless blur of gold as Saphira used all of her strength to carry them faster, they were high enough that if any person that happened to be in the area, unlikely but they didn't want to make the mistake of assuming it, they would mistake Saphira as a hawk or some other large bird of prey.
Soon enough after a day a flying they saw the edge of Tüdosten Lake, a lake that nearly rivaled Leona Lake. Eragon and Saphira could feel the many life signatures in the city Furnost, to their right was a large forest. Saphira quickly dived and was soon submerged in the forest, no one would see them.
"It's been so long since I've seen a tree, I guess living in the desert does that to you," Eragon said with smile.
Saphira rolled her giant eyes, I still think we should wait before we do this.
"I know Saphira, but we need to gain more power, we can't hide forever, one day we'll be found and we have to be ready to face it. Time will only be on our side for so long." He replied to the blue dragoness.
I still hate having to hide while you go off on another dangerous adventure where I usually have to snatch you from the air.
Eragon chuckled, "I do seem to attract attention to myself, hey at least I know how to protect myself." Eragon grabbed his dusty brown cloak, it wouldn't make sense to wear pure black in a desert, he put the hood up as he headed towards Furnost, where his target was.
Furnost wasn't exactly large. It was stuck between being a town or city, but it was a major southern trading port. With the north being the entire desert and the south being the country of Surda, many travelers and traders came from all over. From different tribes of the Hadarac Desert to wealthy traders in Surda, they all flocked to this desert town.
Tüdosten Lake was also the closest source of a water anywhere, the large lake was easily around the size of Leona Lake, not to mention that it was the only large body of water in the southern parts of Alagaesia, save the ocean.
Parched traders were able to drink fresh water after a couple weeks journey, for a price of course.
But Eragon wasn't interested in the water or the various wares that littered the cramped streets, stalls overflowing with exotic objects and valuables. No he was more interested in a certain man who had come here, a spy for Galbatorix, a spy who had the aid of Eldunarì.
This was why Eragon was here, not only would he get rid of the magician but he also gained and freed the Eldunarì, he had no clue on to how much the man had, but with his five Eldunarì, Saphira, and himself he was confident he would win whatever battle may come.
After searching for the any sign of a magical signature that was much larger compared to a normal humans, thanks to the Eldunarì, Eragon finally felt the signature.
He quickly walked towards the area he knew the man was; he soon found himself in the entrance of a seedy looking tavern. He pushed the old door open, the old creaky door promptly fell off it hinges, making everyone in the tavern look at the stranger as they heard the crash.
Eragon ignored them and instead went to the bar. He looked at his target. The man was heavily tanned, had dark midnight black hair, his beady eyes were slightly red, and his face was flushed from all the alcohol he had obviously been drinking heavily.
The drunken man was laughing at some sort of joke he was telling the bar maid, but judging from her expression she didn't find it funny. The man looked at Eragon, noticing him looking at him, "an' what do you wan'?" he slurred out?
Eragon responded by attacking his mind, the man fell off the chair at the unexpected attack, surprisingly despite his drunken state, his mind shields were like an iron wall, though Eragon was sure that was because of the Eldunarì.
Eragon suddenly felt the Eldunarì's presence as they were forced to break into his mind, thankfully Eragon's Eldunarì and Saphira were able to stop them. Eragon continued to break into the man's mind, finally with a large amount of energy the target's iron wall of a shield shattered into a million pieces.
Eragon was suddenly pulled into the man's memories.
A large fort standing on a dark and grim looking mountain…. A man dressed in armor with the King's insignia on his right shoulder barking commands to the soldiers…. The man giving the target a large sack…. The target opening the sack to see six glowing Eldunarì nestled together…. A new location somewhere by the sea, a large library with many secrets….
Eragon gasped as he was brought back to the present, he glanced around to see all the onlookers staring at him and the unconscious man passed out on the floor, then as one they looked away. They didn't see anything. And for that Eragon was thankful that they wouldn't say anything.
Eragon dragged the man out of the bar and into a dark ally, he muttered a long spell under his breath, and the pocket that held the six Eldunarì appeared, the pocket having had a spell that could fit large objects.
The Rider then levitated each Eldunarì into a large sack; he'd rather not have six Eldunarì screaming in his head at the moment, with a spell the sack disappeared in a pocket dimension.
He looked at the passed out man before leaving, he didn't want to kill the man in cold blood, he wasn't cruel. Though he did wonder that he should, whoever that commander was would probably not be happy that the target had just lost the six Eldunarì.
A small smile formed on his face, things were starting to change, to go in their favor. Granted they weren't ready to fight the King, but they were ready to take out all the others, the supporters, anyone who helped.
Slowly they would rise, and one day they would fight the King, whether they won or lost, the fate of Alagaesia depended on what they did now and the choices they made. The return of the Riders had begun.
Ancient Language
Brisin Ginka – gold burn
Freohr – Shadow
I'm really sorry I haven't updated in awhile, my computer broke and I couldn't write, not to mention I got distracted by Skyrim. We've all been distracted by that.