Eragon, Where Dragons dare

[Cracklord]

Elric
Galbatorix doesn't give an answer. His expression is measured and focused, communicating with his sword strikes rather then words. His strokes begin to quicken, every blow harder and faster then the last, working to overwhelm you. Every time you attempt an attack, the king responds with a counterstroke that almost kills you. Stormbringer all but flinches every time it is brought against the King's blade, as their terrible energies of both blades ash each other. But while Stormbringer is sentient, Cthrek Goru is an empty, mindless thing of hate and want, unable to stop.
At your hip, Mournblade keens, wanting to dance alongside it's brother against the king. It doesn't matter you've never wielded two swords at once before. It knows how it is meant to be wielded.

Eric
The cultists limp after you, staggering, crawling and dragging themselves, all but frothing at the mouth as they yell obscenities at the heretic. One is throwing what appear to be handfuls of fire at your wake, heedless to the loss of life and property the unchecked flames are causing.
You think you loose them in the back streets, although you can't be sure, they probably know this area a hell of a lot better then you. It is with that pleasant thought you realize you have no idea where you are, or how to get back where you came from.

Lina Inverse
"The priests of the Helgrind keep one." He says disinterestedly. He then swears as fire begins to spread in the city, no longer paying any attention to you. It is spreading rapidly, already covering an entire street.

Raistlin
Eragon falls to his knee's in a convulsive shudder, then slowly gets back to his feet, vengeance in his eyes. Looking around, he see's the battle has spilled into your confrontation, and he is cut off.
Already, you can feel the poison beginning to wear off. Once more you can feel your magic, only by the faintest of threads, but soon it will return. Just the same, you have to survive that long.