Eragon, Where Dragons dare

[Cracklord]

Leonidas
The march out of the city takes you along a winding path, that eventually leads too a sharp series of foothills, an almost impassable road. The perfect place for an ambush.

Lina Inverse
The man nods, and his men dissapear back into the mountains one by one until he is the only person left. Waving you farewell, he does the same, leaving you alone.

Elric
The dragon grabs it out of your hand, and in two snaps has messily devoured most of it. With that it begins nuzzling your hand affectionatly. You have sucsessfully created a bond. It is then you hear approaching steps. Someone is coming.

[industrious]

Raistlin

The archmage ignores Nuasda's demands. Closing his eyes, he begins to rest, seeking to regain his strength. Cracking open one eye to peer at the former Varden leader, the man stares impassively at the woman.

"I won't be able to send you back for another eight hours. Make yourself comfortable until then. Ask Soth to help you practice with the lance-you'll need it, since you'll have to use it on dragonback."

Lu-Tze

The sweeper squints at the area.

"Now, a normal military commander would send a small party out to investigate the situation. This, as any student of Narrativium knows, is one of the worst moves they can make. Never split a large party. Bad things will happen. I recommend we continue together."

[darkblade]

Leonidas

"Don't worry sweeper." Leonidas explains.

"We'll be ready for an ambush if it comes. Spartans! Shield your Brothers!" Leonidas orders as his men raise their shields to block any incoming arrows from hidden marksmen and ready their spears for incoming men on foot or horse back.

[doliest]

Soth
"Indeed; we must ensure you master both the lance on foot and lance on dragon-back." Soth says, feeling that things have shifted back to his element, "After that we can rally the forces at your command, My Queen."

[The Tygre]

Elric
Elric weaves another ward, this time around the wyrmling. The air bends and refracts, and it appears as if nothing is there. Elric himself uses more conventional methods, and hides behind a pile of gold and gems.

Dilvish
Dilvish checks his jury-rigged map, scanning for any mark he might have made that would indicate his destination.

[Cracklord]

Elric
The footsteps, approach, and then stop. For a moment there is silence, and then the voice of total authority demands "Come out." Elric feels his legs spasm briefly as they unconsciously, through some emotion buried deep in racial memory, try to do as the being says.
This must be the king.

Soth
Nasuada turns to her knight. "Then teach me all you know. We do not have long."

((Training montage follows. You are now up to date with everyone else))

Raistlin awakes, fully rested, to see Nasuada following Soth's instruction, already passably competent.

Leonidas
Skirting the extremities of the hills to the west, you march south-east. Two hours later, you turn west again, forging through wild and rugged hills, following dim trails and torturous paths. You seem to be traveling vaguely South, through a labyrinth of crags and foothills.
Without warning, a gray fleecy mass came billowing down from the North, veiling the slopes, spreading out through the valleys. It blotted out the sun, the world became a blind gray void were sight was limited to a matter of yards.

[industrious]

Raistlin

"Excellent." Waking up, the mage reaches into one of Arya's robe's pockets to grasp hold of Glaedir's heart of hearts. "Now for the finishing touches. Time to give your people hope."

The wizard thrusts his consciousness into that of the dragon. Hello Glaedir. I need your help.

Lu-Tze

The Sweeper gazed at the fog, and recited the ancient words that would trigger the trap. The words that Narritivium demanded be said.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

[Cracklord]

((Wrong ones. Now the trap waits. What Narritivium demanded was "It's quiet. Too quiet.))

As if in answer, you begin to make out a muted, steady vibrating beat on the still winds. The incessant hammering of a drum. Yet no other sign, and eventually the elves resume making their way through, most of the Spartans following. Not knowing what else to do, you follow.
You cannot tell what is on either side, whether cliffs, thickets or gorges. The drum throbs unceasingly, growing louder as you approach.
You start as you notice a looming gray rock wall, emerging through the smoky drifts on either hand, and realize your moving through a narrow defile. You feel surprise as they widen out and vanish into the fog again. If there had been an ambush planned, it would have been in that pass.
And yet the drum is rumbling louder, and you can't determine which direction the sound is coming from. Now it seems ahead, now behind, now on one hand or the other. Wisps of mist curl about you and moisture glistens all over, as you realize you are totally lost.

Raistlain
The dragons reply makes your skull shake. Insolent little monster. It snarled. None demand anything of dragons, especially not you! You shall gain nothing from me but blood, failure and tears!

[darkblade]

The Spartan Stelios walks up next to the Sweeper. "Then we will fight in this swamp."

Leonidas ignores the Sweeper and makes his way to the nearest Elf. Solemly he asks, "One of your superior racial abilities is knowledge of nature and the wilderness is it not?"

"Because all the humans are lost."

[industrious]

Raistlin

Then know, this, Glaedir. By your refusal to cooperate, you have condemned all the dragons of Alagaesia. I am a monster. I will manipulate the inhabitants of this world, and I will tinker with their lives, for they mean nothing to me. But I am also your only hope against Galbatorix. Because I want his life. I want him broken, completely and utterly. I will make him acknowledge me as Master. He will grovel before me. Raistlin always lies, except when the truth works even better. It's a gift honed from childhood.

[The Tygre]

Elric
Elric prepares himself for the worst. He keeps his hand on Stormbringer's hilt, prepared to face this new challenger.

[Cracklord]

The elf turns to answer him, then is interrupted.
"The fog is thinning!" Shouts an elf. "Look!" He points a trembling finger.
The drum was silent. The fog was fading away. First the crests of the cliffs came into sight above the gray clouds, tall and spectral. Lower and lower crawled the mists, shrinking and fading. On all sides, the cliffs towered. They were not in a wide, open valley as was supposed.
They were in a blind gorge ringed by huge cliffs, hundred of miles high. The only way in, or, more urgently out, was the narrow defile you had just crept through. And the defile was filled with a wild and terrible band of men, who stood as still and silent as statues, ragged, shock haired men with spears and improvised weapons in their hands, thousands of them. And up on the cliffs appeared other faces, terrible, gaunt, ferocious faces, marked by fire and steel and starvation.
A huge pair of onagers man either side of the cliffs, surrounded by waiting archers. In the canyon wait men, armed with spears standing in front of cavalry. But these are not the soldiers you expected.
A ragged, wild eyed man steps forward, his once fine clothes and once proud bearing showing he leads them. Behind him step out more, ragged men, armed with a terrible range of blades and hard, dead looks of the men who have nothing to live for.
Islazandi pulls up, startled, her elves falling into place around her. "What trick is this? Has Galbatorix grown so desperate?" she shrieks.
"Galbatorix knows nothing of this!" The man laughed back. "No, this was a plot of broken men, of men you ruined and turned into beasts. Galbatorix has not divided his army, he will not fight on two fronts. We are the rabble who followed him, who skulked in the hills, the homeless, the hopeless, and the desperate. This was our plan, and the gods themselves aided us with their mist. Look around! Each of us bears the mark of your cruelty, elf queen, on his body or on his heart."
"Look at me! You do not know me, why should you, I'm just a human!" He laughed harder, madly, uncaring. "Not this scar your soldiers burned on me? Well once you did. Once I was lord Marcus Tabar, of Dras-Leona, the man whose sons you murdered, whose daughters your mercenaries ravaged and slew."
"I am the man who killed you. Look on the people you broke, mongrel bitch who once played at being queen! Every dog has it's day, and ours has come at last! And such a glorious day it is, here in your tomb! Try to climb the cliffs, they are steep, they are high! Try to fight your way back through the defile, spears block your way, boulders will crush you from above! You are already dead!"
Throwing back his head, he laughed until the rocks rang, an elf leaned forward and fired a shaft that took him in the throat, his mirth becoming a sickening gurgle, as he fell to the ground, still laughing sickeningly through the gurgle of blood. The drum began again, encircling the valley with a guttural thunder.

Elric
The footsteps began again as the figure above began pacing. "Come out, little thief. Do not test my patience." The voice was smooth, and lit with a strange reflection. You recognize it from the memories. It's the dragonlord.

Raistlin
Better to die soaring one last time then live beneath a monster like you, mage. Glaedr replies. Take your power, if you can, I will have no part in it, and will fight you with the entire contents of my soul to the very last.

[industrious]

Lu-Tze

The elderly man steps forward. Without armor, or a weapon other than his broom, dressed in saffron robes, the man doesn't look anything like a threat to those who do not follow the Way. For those that do, though, his smile would have sent them running.

"There is no reason to fight. What is dirty can be swept away; I've been doing that for ages. And besides, you don't really want to fight. Haven't you ever heard of Rule One?"

Raistlin

You have made a terrible error, dragon. Not in refusing me, but in assuming that you ever had a choice to begin with. The mage's hand touches the dragon orb. Ast bilak mioparalan Suh akvlar tantangusar.

Channeling Glaedir's power, Raistlin weaves an illusion around Saphira. Where there once was a young blue dragon now sits an aged and powerful platinum dragon, based on the depictions of the god Paladine himself. The mage enjoyed irony. "Your mount awaits, my lady."

[Cracklord]

((Now would be a good time to cut time.))

The men do not look stable. Revenge is all they have left, the one thing that has sustained them. Many of them are clearly held up only by their hate. They have no interest in you, intent on the elves. above, boulders come crashing down and the sky darkens with arrows.

Abruptly, his broom snaps out what appears to be a fold up battle axe.

Raistlin
Nuasda mounts demurely, sitting sidesaddle, you can't help but notice. "It'll do." She replies, not seeming to see Saphira as an individual. "Are you ready then?"

[The Tygre]

Elric steps out and faces Galbatorix. He moves with an air of grace, holding himself rigid, if cautious. He is going out to speak king to king, not thief to master; "I am Elric of Melnibone, the White Wolf, wielder of the runeblade Stormbringer, and last Emperor of Melnibone. Speak as you will."

[industrious]

Lu-Tze

Waiting until the last moment before the arrows strike into the Spartan guard, the Sweeper slices time, slowing it down until it is essentially stopped. Taking his broom, and shaking his head at it's mutilation by Qu, he breaks the arrows in halves, separating the heads from the shafts. As for the boulders...using the powerful stance of owmyfootmyfoot, the monk kicks the boulders into more manageable sizes. More along the size of his bonzai mountains, really.

Raistlin

"Very well." There is a formula for commanding a person. Find what they desire most, and give it to them. Raistlin smirks, and teleports them to the keep.

[Cracklord]

The Valehru, you see, is holding a human figure, one that seems to be a corpse. Tossing it aside, he smiles. "I am your king, as much as theirs." Galbatorix replied. "Are you here to challenge me, Elric?" He says, his hand hovering towards his sword. "Or something else?"

Lu-Tze
((I'm assuming Darkwolf is with these guys.))
You do it, and everyone is very surprised at the instant. It brought the Spartans time, though it didn't seem to phase the army of broken men. And yet, it cost you. Slicing time so quickly for so long is tiring, and you stagger at the effort. And already, another volley is in preparation.
The elves have divided up to minimize the target, and are quickly stringing their own bows, readying their last stand.

Raistlin
the keep is a smoking ruin. Their are corpses spread everywhere, and the only survivor has been crucified at the gates. Much of the stone has been heated until it melted like a candle.

[The Tygre]

"That depends on you, your Lordship. That depends on if you seek to summon your brothers, and why. That depends on if you wish to harm my latest investments. There's a slim chance that depends on what you can offer me. But most importantly, that depends on if you challenge me."

[Cracklord]

Galbatorix gestures to the crushed souls. "I have the power, what right is there? As the last of your people, surely you understand. Are there not those among the dead that you would trade anything to see again?"
He sighs. "I am a relic of a time long gone, alone in the universe, surrounded by lesser beings who seek to imitate our works, pretenders to our power. Yours included, Emperor." He scoffed at the rank. To him, slaves having positions was laughable. "And because I wish to. Why should I serve the lords, of law or of chaos? They squabble as pettily as we do, what have they done for me? What makes them better? Why should they dictate who exists, who lives and who dies? Because they have power? Did not we? And because as the universe becomes more complicated, all will be cast aside, things were better before. Because I want to. All of those answers, and none of them. Maybe you can understand."

Bilbo/Divlish/Parias
You see a man in an alleyway ahead, clad in black armor with a great horned helm, seemingly considering something.

[darkblade]

SPARTANS!

Spartans step away from the cliff edges and raise their shields to intercept the arrows. Spartan shields are very good and taking arrow fire. Really. Not just in the movie thats an actual historical fact.

The second the volley stops Leonidas pulls out his sword and dramatically slices the arrows off of his shield in bullet time, possiblely a lingering effect from when the Sweeper sliced time a few seconds ago?

None the less in seconds his sword is drawn and he charges (along with 290 Spartans angered because they got shot at) the nearest group of soliders. Incidently despite Leonidas's dramatic move the rest of the spartans keep their shields up and charge with their spears. Many of them don't have names so they don't have nearly the Narritivium protection.

[Cracklord]

The rocks tumble down, crushing a few of the Spartans, who aren't quick enough. The men have neither the skill or the strength to match you, but they have a governing obsession that refuses to allow them to relent. And there is a lot of them.
Then one of the onagers launches it's payload, burning pitch.

[nanobot_swarm]

Darkwolf
He enters the besieged city, spotting corpses of defenders strewn about, and continues on, and keeps an eye out just in case a corpse stirs. He continues onward to the light in the tower
Parias
Parias moves to the guard house as quietly and swiftly as possible, and comes to a halt near the door and listens for any conversation, whislt looking for any approaching.

[Cracklord]

Parias
You sense you are being followed. A short being, with a good natured face and hairy feet, and what appears to be an elf leading a black stallion.

Darkwolf
((The Spartans have left. You follow them, tracking them as best you can, and see the events described above, with the army of broken souls and all.))

[darkblade]

Spartans!

Leonidas yells out to the Elves. Their ruthless nature has cost good men their lives but Spartans can never back down from a battle even if it is because their allies lack any sense of honour at all. "You brought this battle to the Spartans and now good men have died. Every warrior that dies here is on your head when the Empire falls."

They charge forward into the bulk of broken souls.

[The Tygre]

"I can understand, your Lordship, and yet your concepts are foreign to me. You say the multiverse would be better if it was destroyed, chaos. How so? How would raising yourself to the status of Chaos God, even if that is not what you would call yourself, improve anything? I have walked many, many worlds, and killed many, many people. And in the end I can say that there is no world of which you speak. Yes, there are people I would see again. Yes, both the gods and we have power. But there lies the flaw. Man cannot be ruled. The world I seek, that should be guided by a benevolent hand, is an impossible one. A world without gods or petty little thing like 'Fate' or 'Destiny'. A rapturous place without kings or dictators, where a man carves his own place and can live. You, in all your madness and power cannot offer such a place. Destiny follows life, and the gods follow destiny like strings on a marrionette. Even you in your infinite power are but a puppet for fate.

Perhaps you say oblivion is the answer, that we cannot suffer if we simply are not. But this I cannot allow. On a distant world, I watched flowers the size of trees bloom and sing in perfect unison. At the end of this sentence, a period will be formed, containing a world where an infinite number of miserable and marvelous miracles will occur. Perhaps I should doom all things to void and xaos, but then what wonder will be left? No, I will not submit to Chaos, not willingly, not again. I ask, fair king, that you cease this madness."

[Cracklord]

Elric
"You should have been born one of my people, Emperor." The Valheru replied. "But all that matters is power, not reasons. I will bring my people back, for I have the power, and none have the power to stop me. But know I have no desire for the crown of the lord of chaos, and that things ill not be as they were. The world has move on, and my people are a proud remnant from an older time, a better time." his hand flicked to Cthrek Goru, his black sword. "I will not be a puppet of fate simply because fate feels it should be so, anymore then I will let others dictate my path, or that of my people. It is not their decission to make, it is ours. And so, I made my own path. Do you wish to join me?" he asks, his hand carressing his sword's pommel.

SPARTAAA!
It is a terrible thing to fight men with nothing to lose, men who'll throw themselves on your spears just for the chance to spit in your eye. They fight like children, slow, weak and without skill. And yet they do not relent or stop, working to bring you down with weight of numbers and obsession.
The elves have spread out behind you, stringing their bows and picking off the operators of the catapults and archers. They have suffered few casualties, the elves knowing this is likely their last stand.

[doliest]

Lord Soth
Soth looks at the carnage and destroyed remains of Dargaard impassively; it would be rebuilt one day, by his hand when this war was won. He looks over to 'Nu', "It seems the king is long gone; more than likely to wipe out some other base; what's the closest base to this location?"
Bilbo
Bilbo looks at the figure with dread; figures like that were never trustworthy, but Sting wasn't aglow, so he wasn't a threat. Satisfied, Bilbo walks up to the man and says, "Greetings; Bilbo and Dilvish, treasure-hunters extraordinaire, would you know the location of some of the major landmarks of the city, we've been away for a long time."

[nanobot_swarm]

Darkwolf
He pats his horse and lets it trot away from battle.

And then all hell breaks loose, as he draws his twin axes, and gives out a yell that would rally the broken men, and send fear into his foes (except the older Spartans). The sky instantly turns red, and Darkwolf literally jumps into battle, passing the Spartans and charging straight into the elf numbers. None can stand before his axes, which deal death blows with each chop.

Parias
He turns and sees the pair, and is confused by the two and the short ones question. He says in his voice, which honestly fits an older priest much better than it does he," I know nothing of this world, I have come to stop a corruption which I had sensed here, as per my Holy mission. Though not quite the level of the serpent riders, it is still quite horrible."

[Cracklord]

Lord Soth
"Two days ride. All the men left are still occupying Feinstar. We have to move quickly, it may already be too late."

Darkwolf
You wade into the elves, overpowering them with seeming ease. Few are able to even touch you.

[industrious]

Raistlin

"Then we shall ride, my lady." Turning the title into a sneer, the wizard calls upon the powers of the dragon orb once more. "Cyan Bloodbane, I summon thee."

Lu-Tze and Darkwolf

The barbarian finds his way blocked by a short smiling wrinkly bald man.

"Have you ever heard of Rule One?"