Eragon, Where Dragons dare

[Fan]

"His name was Vanir. One of our most promising swordsmen. But the fire ran to hot in his veins. He never mastered it, so it mastered him."
Another elf appeared behind him. There was little to distinguish him from Vanir. "You hunt black wizards and demon worshipers? The only place I know of is the human city of Dras-Leona." He said.

"So the daemons operate here as well. This is grave news indeed. I apologize for the loss of.. Vanir. It always pains me to see promising youth go like that. I take my leave for Dras Leona soon, but before I go, I would like any information you have on what I can expect there. I can pay you in gold if that would be what you desire."

Guts says shouldering the mighty dragon slayer, he was a loner, a bit harsh, and a general ass, but these people were willingly leading him to a servant of The God Hand. They deserved some respect.

[darkblade]

Leonidas

Artemis took his suggestion to the king who accepted it gratiously.

"You make a good point Artemis. Take twenty-five soliders to the west and see if you can find us some worthy allies. I shall take another twenty-five to the east. The rest shall fall back and form a defensive line in Termopalies."

***

Black Knight

"I shall need to speak with one of your leaders before anything formal can be arranged of course."

[doliest]

Bilbo
"You're definitely an amicable sort; and I've been looking for a cause since I came into a unforeseen gift, and I'd like to join yours, if you wouldn't mind." Bilbo smiles warmly at the man, while favoring the tea one last time before it's empty.
Lord Soth
Soth draws his sword and moves forward to engage in a duel with the man; the man was a knight, like he had been. Soth had lost many things, both since death and arriving here, but he still had his honor. It was all he seemed to have now; his honor and his sins.

[Cracklord]

Leonidas
Artemis nods. "Thank you me king. Oh, and please take me son with you." He adds, before moving among the men, selecting those he would take with him in their exploration. He didn't take the strongest, they would be needed to guard the king. Rather, he took the fleeted, knowing that as much as it went against their nature, they were to be a scouting force, who had best try not to engage.
((Looking at the map, west leads to Gil'Ead, the Empires main garrison. East leads right into the desert.))

Guts
"South." The elf replied. "Perhaps a two month's travel on foot, two weeks on horseback if you ride hard and are willing to change horses." He said. "It is a city built amongst four mountains, where the priests commit human sacrifice, and worship dark things best left unmentioned." He sighed. "I have no use for your gold, keep it, but I will answer any of your questions as best I can."

Black Knight
((Warning, if you want Arthur to get involved in this, I will be using the 'Winter King' version.))
"I am Nuasda's second, you can tell me anything you would tell her." He replied. "If you wish to meet her, I have orders to examine your thoughts."

Lord Soth
The man is a fencer, fast and precise, forged in the fire of half a century of border fights and raids. Moving like a viper he blocks each blow with the skill of an expert duelist, the dagger in his left hand rapping a staccato drumbeat against your breastplate, vambrace and thigh, probing for a weakness in your ancient blackened armor.
He bares his teeth in cross between a grimace and a snarl as he feels his arm going numb from the unholy chill of your essence, but doesn't relent. These soldiers may be backwards, but if he's an example, they're brave.

Bilbo
The man nods. "I'm glad you see it that way." He finishes his cup, than stands abruptly. The big men Bilbo took for mercenary's stand with him. "Come with me." He says. "We'll go to one of the camps, and you can help us decide what to do with you."

[doliest]

Lord Soth
Soth's slowly starts adding more and more power to his strikes, attempting to push through the blocks and slash into the man; he's confident that the dagger won't find a weakspot in the armor that makes up his body.
Bilbo
Bilbo drops a gold coin onto the bar as payment for the tea. He follows the man, happy that he was able to rest his feet for a few moments, and hopefully he'll soon have a bed and a good bed to sleep in. As he walks with the man he says, "I'm good at getting into places without being noticed. Very good; if I say so myself."

[Cracklord]

Bilbo
The man nods. The mountains of the Spine loomed above them, rough and craggy. While the Beors were said to be noble giants, the spine was like exaggerated foothills and volcanic rock. Everywhere you looked there was something hard, something sharp, something that could kill you.
Making his way with marginal grace, the swordsman leads you up what appears to be a gully.

Lord Soth
Brammar caught the blow, swung it wide, and pressed his slim advantage, alternating attacks between his sword and dagger. After a few, lethal jabs, the tip of the dagger broke of in a gap in your right vambrace, that would have made you lose your sword were you still flesh, and his sword flicked out, a long, narrow cut where your neck should be.
Nothing. Your body was dust years ago. He is totally open, trying to quickly recover.

[doliest]

Lord Soth
Soth stabs the blade through the man's chest, using his unnatural strength to stab all the way up to the hilt, before quickly pulling it out, "You fought bravely and with honor; far better than any wizard in that tower or any man likely to be in this fort. You will find an honorable afterlife." As he pulls out the blade, he steps over the dead man and walks towards the cowering man who had not come to this man's aid during the fight.
Bilbo
Bilbo happily moves along with the man, "These mountains look dangerous; doesn't seem like the kind of place you'd want to keep a camp in." He starts smoking and wondering if he should have picked up more in the town.

[industrious]

Lu-Tze

"Hold onto my tea." Sprinting up the stairs, the Sweeper knows, from centuries of experience in the field, that something is happening to the nice young man he had just man.

Raistlin

Raistlin sighs. Eschewing details, the wizard...creatively explains his situation. "I come from a distant land, one which has been ravaged by war. In our current state, it would be surprising if we could survive another; I am here to ensure that Galbatorix never bothers my homeland. My earlier lies are so that the knowledge of my home does not fall prey to the Empire." It was true what he had said, though in a different manner than the witch probably would assume.

[Cracklord]

Raistlin
She smiles, and you can tell she is fooled. Clearly, she believes she is smarter then everyone else. "Would you like me to read your fortune?" It is a seemingly innocent question, yet there is more to it then that. She has genuine power, perhaps she can...
"I'll admit that you intrigue me. A crippled man who wears power like a cloak, and seems to have nothing but contempt for the rest of the world."

Lord Soth
The Knight writhes and screams, smashing the pommel of his sword into lord Soth's helmet, but it does no good, and it is the last defiance of a dead man. Within moments the light had faded from the old general's eyes, his gaze freezing into an eternal glare of unrelenting hate.
Most of the men ran, there lacking courage gone with the death of their leader. A few lowered their spears and charged, but they fell like wheat. A bell tolled in the dark. The city was waking up.

Lu Tze
Atop the tower, an enormous dragon has landed. A head the size of a wagon snaked aound to stare at the sweeper, it’s horns like ship staves scraping either side of the walls. Fangs as long as spears glistened in the last of the days light, contrasting with the scales as dark as an assassins heart, and it’s dark eyes like depthless pools glared at them, filled with immeasurable wisdom and sadness, and a terrible, festering hate.
Being confronted by it was vaguely surreal, as though a tower had been somehow animated and given limbs. A deep growl of displeasure rumbled up from it’s throat, and a small jet of white hot flame jetted from it’s nostrils, so bright it made spots dance before his eyes.
Why are you here? The voice was so soothing, so refined, that for a moment it was impossible to believe it came from the dragon. From it's back a big man dismounted, but he seemed irrelevant compared to this colossal beast.

Bilbo
"Stories say the king lost half his army in the Spine. They exaggerate. He lost perhaps two thousand. And there are maybe five hundred of us left." He replied, navigating the twists and turns between the stone.

[industrious]

Lu-Tze

The never-venerable monk glares at the dragon. "I'm here because some fool wizards thought it would be a good idea to blow something up. They should have listened to me, for as it is said, you've got to learn to walk before you can run."

Raistlin

To know my future. To see whether my plan will suceed, in the end. Knowledge, power; the two can be so easily interchanged. But she will know as well; is it worth it? But it would look suspicious of me to refuse...

"If you would be so kind, Angela." The archmage can be charming, when he needs to be. His usual caustic wit temporarily suppressed for now, Raistlin is the essence of gratitude.

[doliest]

Lord Soth
"Come and die, mortals! Come and die, a monument to my eternal loss!" Lord Soth screams, as he starts slaying the soldiers who stand against him, and raises up a massive wall of fire at the gate leading out of the fort, ensuring that nothing can leave, short of jumping off the walls of the fort.
Bilbo
"Ah, a strong defensive position! That makes it seem much better. How did you lose so many people; did the empire come after you, or the rebellion? Or both?" Bilbo looks around and says, "So, how can I help out? Do we want to end this war, or simply ensure that civilians don't suffer from the king's war with the rebellion."

[Cracklord]

Lu-Tze
The Dragon narrows it's eye, but turns away. You can see it's already forgotten you. Your attention is taken by the man. he is extremely muscular, every one toned to incredible definition and size. The right side of his face is decorated with what looked like tribal markings, fantastic whorls, swirls and curlicues, some done in blue ink, others more cruelly scarred on with a flat edged blade. They continue on his upper arms and biceps.
He has a dark beard, intense eyes that seem to dissect you, and his ears are ragged, as though someone took a knife to them. He is dressed in worn leather armor, and has a white sword in calfskin leather on his right hip.
Giving you a quick glance he strides past, down the way you just came.

Bilbo
"Stories say the king lost half his army in the Spine. They exaggerate. He lost perhaps two thousand. And there are maybe five hundred of us left." He replied, navigating the twists and turns between the stone. "And no oe will look for us here."

Raistin
She removes a bag, the clack of bones giving it's nature away. removing a handful of claws with markings drawn on them, she tosses them, and studies them intently.
At last she sighs. "A difficult future indeed. I almost believe I must have done something wrong."

Lord Soth
Some fight, some run. It makes no difference, they die. By the end of the night, the fortress is a charnel house, the slaughtered remnants of over half Galbatorix's army scattered around the streets.

[industrious]

Raistlin

"What is it?" Majere leans forward, intent on hearing his future.

Lu-Tze

Shrugging, the Sweeper follows the man, sweeping the dust left behind all the while.

[doliest]

Lord Soth
Soth would smirk at the carnage, if he could still smirk. As the remains of the force wander around, he lets out a yell, "For those who still stand, I offer you a chance to survive my wrath; join me here, and you will live. Fight me, and you die by my hands as so many of your men have already."
Bilbo
"Ah, a strong defensive position! That makes it seem much better. How did you lose so many people; did the empire come after you, or the rebellion? Or both?" Bilbo looks around and says, "So, how can I help out? Do we want to end this war, or simply ensure that civilians don't suffer from the king's war with the rebellion."

[darkblade]

Black Knight

Having his thoughts read woud guarantee a death sentence here. Merlin and Arthur had sent him into this world to seek out Varden with no knowledge of their actions beyond opposing the Empire, Percy though had traveled for sometime amongst these people and he knows well how unrepentant these monsters are.

"I am afraid that would be impossible. I have been enchanted to be resistant to magics cast upon my person except by Merlin himself."

((That is alright. Go with whatever version of Camelot you know the best. Also where exactly on the map are the Spartans so I can give them less suicidal directions.))

[Cracklord]

Sparta
((Right side of Isenstar lake, near Marna.))

Black Knight
Eragon seems shocked, but he covers it well. "Very well. You will be guarded at all times, and at no point will you be allowed to be alone with Nuasda. Agreed?"

Bilbo
The man nods "Yes." He replies. "We have lost many of our men over a decade of small scale skirmishers, against both sides. And we want to achieve both objectives, but don't have the power or the influence."

Lord Soth
In the end, none of them join you, they literally are incapable of doing so. Their oaths to the king prevent it, as much as they wish they could.

Lu-Tze
The man returns to the room where you met the young man before. The man instantly kneels, but the tattooed man shakes his head, and Mutagh gets back to his feet.
"Take a thousand men, and make your way to Gil-Ead." The king says. "Take crossbows, catapults, and cavalry. The Spartans have chosen death." He intones, in a deep, rich voice.

Raistlin
She looks around anxiously, then begins pointing at them, one at a time. "The Ouroboros. You shall be your own downfall, cause your own end. The broken crown. Hubris, the pride that causes fall." She points to several that had fallen in an odd pattern. "You are destined to a romance that changes the fate of the world, but how it ends I cannot say." She goes on. "Betrayal, from one close to you, of your own blood. The arcmages staff, you will achieve such power as to shake the heavens, but it will ring you emptiness like you can't imagine." Her eyes roll back, showing just her whites. She shudders, convulsively knocking the bones out of place, but they all roll, coming to rest in the exact same place as they had the first time. Not close to, but the exact same place. "You will bathe in oceans of blood, feast on the world, until even that is not enough to satisfy you, and starve until you devour yourself. And at last, you will beg for death."
With that she collapses, face hitting the ground with a wet smack.

[doliest]

Lord Soth
Realizing the soldiers can't join him, Soth slays every soldier he can find. After he finishes, he walks out to meet the Banshees, and leads them back to his keep; he'd have to figure out his next move there. Maybe wait for their king to come and die at his hands? Or should he move forward and simply slay everything he came across? Painting this entire kingdom red with blood was sounding better and better the more he thought about it. Maybe he should contact someone to work with, in bringing this kingdom down; it would be rather hard to do it himself. As he reaches the keep, he starts wondering how he might make contact with anyone short of finding another fort to massacre.
Bilbo
"Maybe I can help you get that influence, and help you gather people to your cause? It does seem important to end this war, for the good of the people who obviously don't want to get caught up in it. I've got a few talents to bring to the table."

[industrious]

Raistlin

The news was...disturbing, to say the least. The betrayal would be Kitiara's, of course; his sister was stupid enough to do so. The romance could be so easily dismissed; he was above such ideas. And he would attain power at last, perhaps that was the love Angela had mentioned?

And as for the other aspect...Raistlin smiled. It had been his fate to die during the Test, yet he had survived. He was the master of his fate, he was the Master of Past and Present, and he would succeed. As for the fortuneteller...Raistlin checked her lifebeat, making sure that the woman was not dead. He hoped she wasn't; not out of altruism, but of pragmatism: it would cast suspicion on him if she were dead. While he would probably talk his way out of it, he could be tainted with the stigma of her death.

Diseased lungs draw in breath as he bellows "GUARDS! THE HERBALIST HAS COLLAPSED!"

Lu-Tze

The Sweeper listens in, and once the man leaves, approaches Murtagh. "I'm coming with you," he declares. "As the Way teaches us, it does you good to get out in the fresh air."

[Cracklord]

Bilbo
It is a wooden fortress, well maintained, of the sort once occupied by Robber barons. The men who defend it are dressed in a range of armor with a range of weapons. They look like bandits or mercenaries.

Lu-Tze
As the men assemble, you simply follow behind in the mess wagon, and no one questions your presence. The men seem worried about the coming fight.

Raistlin
Nobody comes. You are in an all but deserted wing of the castle, and Eragon has moved on.

[doliest]

Bilbo
"A good fortress. Strong wood, and in a hard to reach, easily defended place. Seems practically like you're prepping for a last stand." Bilbo starts fingering the ring in his pocket, just in case this man has been less than truthful and is leading him into a trap. He's learned in his travels that not every good man is really a good man.

[Cracklord]

Bilbo
He sighed. "The war is at it's height. Everytime we go out, some of us don't come back." He replied woddenly.

[industrious]

Lu-Tze

"Well now! This looks to be interesting!" the irreverent sweeper cracks his knuckles together. Apparently, the Empire was at war. He wasn't a follower himself(He far preferred the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse), but hopefully, anthropomorphic personification still existed here.

Raistlin

The lady was unconscious; Rasitlin smirked. He had no further use for her. Walking along the abandoned corridors, he searched for the Varden leadership, casting a minor spell to light his way. Shirak. and the orb at the top of the Staff of Magus bursts into light.

[doliest]

"Really?" Bilbo says, "Maybe you should try to hit them with more stealth. A smaller force, especially one that knows the area better, could hit, withdraw, and hit again. Fast and hard, before quickly moving back to avoid losing many. I can help with that; I can slip in and get the leader of any army. Drag them out and use them as leverage to make the armies back off."
Lord Soth
As he stalks back and forth in his Keep, wondering what is next in his...well war on this kingdom, a beacon lights up in Soth's head. Magic; controlled, not of this world, where the magic user's could barely bind the magic; subdued. The magic of a powerful mage indeed. Soth smirks; he now has a destination, a destination he can feel.

[The Tygre]

Elric
There was the ripping sensation, the feeling of skin being torn off of him. A wind of color rushed over him. He plummeted through a world of blue, and was born ninety times on a plane of blood and chitin. His black demon armor melted and reformed hundreds of times, and his screams became serpents. All the while, the runeblade in his sheath laughed at the albino's frailty. Finally, the whirlwind of chaos ended. Elric of Melnibone took his first steps into the world.

It was so clear, the recountenance of the White Wolf's life. He knew every detail the whole way, the future, the people he would meet... and kill. He knew Cymoril would die, and he knew not to pick up the black blade. But he did. And at the moment of the end of the world, instead of meeting his death, he was torn through the thousand chaos worlds surrounding his reality, into this place. He should have been dead, should have been ended by the terrible sword. But he was not. In rage, the Last Melnibonean walked onward through whatever gods-cursed forest he had been deposited in.

[Cracklord]

Bilbo
"It is not so easy as you suggest." The man replies. "We can't do enough damage or steal enough supplies with small forces."

Elric
As you stand, you see a man in a black robe staring at you intensely. He doesn't seem shocked or awed by your display, if anything he seems measured, as though trying to apply a formula to a minor problem. When he see's you have noticed him, he claps his hands. An aura of power so strong it is almost physical, the sort normally reserved for gods, the greatest of elemental's and the mightiest lords of law and chaos surrounds him, that he wears like a cloak.
He has a short, untidy black beard, is leaning on a simple staff, and his face is oddly timeless. His eyes, however, are ancient, eyes that have seen the death of stars.
"Quite a display. I doubt there is a magician in the Empire who didn't feel that. You don't do anything by halves, do you?" He says easily, still measuring the eternal champion. "You'll do. You'll do nicely."

Lu Tze
The closest thing to an anthropomorphic personification is the young man atop the crimson dragon, flying above the army.
The men are disciplined and have the casual competency of real professional soldiers, made from intensive training and experience. Their leader is huge, a massive girth, rolls of fat on the back of his neck and a bald head, but arms muscular enough to lift another man over his head.
From what you can see of the empire, it seems to be good, fertile land, good for growing. The people are luckier then they realize.

[doliest]

Bilbo
"I can help with that." Bilbo says, smiling. "As I said, I can sneak in, get any commander or important item from a camp, and get back out without being noticed."

[Cracklord]

The man gives you an intense stare. "I bet you could, at that. I'm not normally so open, yet something abut you makes me want to trust you. I suspect you are more then you seem." He says shrewdly.
The gates swing open to let you in.

[doliest]

Bilbo
"I'm just a Hobbit from The Shire; maybe a bit older than most, a bit better traveled than most, but still just a Hobbit...and I also have my own traveling song named about me, but that's neither here nor there." Bilbo smirks; he still found that last one funny, but then, ever since Gandalf had played that trick,strange things had happened to him.

[Cracklord]

The man doesn't seem satisfied with your answer. "If you say so." he replies carefully, turning and making his way through the gate.
Theodric was huge, Half a head taller then the swordsman who Bilbo acompanied and burlier then a bear. He was grizzled and grey-bearded, gruff and grouchy to an almost comical extent, his long iron grey hair drawn up in a topknot. His clothes were red, made of leather, and a sword and shortsword hung from his thick leather belt. More then twenty amulets hung around his neck from leather thongs, jingling as he moved.
He strode from his palace towards the man, who jumped forwad to greet him. The old man's gutsy laughter boomed over the courtyard, as he and the man embraced. "Welcome, brother of my heart." He boomed.

[doliest]

Bilbo
Bilbo smiles up at the two men, "Hello, I'm Bilbo Baggins, I'm hoping to join up with you, and I think that I can ensure that you can really make an impact on this war, really help people."
Lord Soth
After a few hours of contemplating the location, Soth instructs the three Banshees to follow him as a guard to the location of the spell, and maybe find someone who could help him; someone who could get him home, and to Kitaria.