Galbatorix's eyes snapped open–round and rimmed with an unnatural amount of white–and he stared...
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A Gamer's Inheritance
- Thread starter Mythology216
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Mythology216
Getting out there.
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Galbatorix's eyes snapped open–round and rimmed with an unnatural amount of white–and he stared into the distance, as if those before him no longer existed. He shook and trembled and his jaw worked, but no sound came from his throat.
Two things happened at once, then. Elva let out a shriek and fainted, and Galbatorix shouted, "Waíse néiat!"
Be not.
I had no time for words. Again drawing upon the Eldunarí, I cast a spell to drag myself, Saphira, Arya, Elva, Thorn, Murtagh, and the two children on the dais over to the block of stone where Nasuada was chained. And I also cast a spell to stop or deflect whatever might harm us.
We were only halfway to the block when Galbatorix vanished in a flash of light, brighter than the sun. Then I felt a massive draw on the power of the Eldunarí as my spell attempted to shield us. As seconds turned to minutes, the power being used kept increasing. I began to panic. It's not going to be enough, Saphira! I cried through our link. What else can we do?
I do not know, Little One, but we must think of something soon. The Eldunarí are nearly depleted. Suddenly, my mind returned to nearly a year ago. When my father Brom was on his deathbed he whispered 7 words in the Ancient Language, along with their meaning to me, with instructions to use them only in great need.
With our time running out, and nothing to lose, I decided to finally use my father's final gift. Pouring all my energy into what might be my final spell, I cried out, "Gefa edtha du megin eom moi wyrda!" Grant me the power to change fate. And with that, all went dark and silent.
Upon regaining consciousness, I could feel that something had gone horribly wrong. A warm presence was missing from my mind. Saphira? I mentally called out, hoping that my senses were being deceived. When no response came, I called out again, Saphira! I was beginning to get desperate. Saphira had only ever failed to answer me when Durza had drugged me, cutting me off from my magic. My senses were not dulled as they had been back then, so I knew that wasn't the cause. Even separated by all of Alagaesia we could still at least sense each other, but even that was missing. "Saphira!" my own voice rang out this time, mingling with my mental shout. There was still no response.
I finally opened my eyes, hoping against hope that my worst fear hadn't been realized. I wasn't sure I could survive losing Saphira. Instead of the ruined castle I was expecting to see, I found myself in a forest with no destruction in sight. A spark of hope blossomed in my chest. Maybe we had simply been transported, and the missing bond was caused by a distance greater than we had experienced thus far.
It was then that I noticed that I was not lying on the ground as I had assumed. I was instead crouched at the edge of a clearing, bow in hand. Confused, I stood straight and examined the bow. I almost dropped it in shock. I wasn't holding the reinforced bow the elves had sung for me, but instead my old yew bow. It was the bow that Garrow had helped me make, which had been broken months before by my enhanced strength. I could feel the grooves my fingers had worn in the wood through extensive use. Even the small scars it had accumulated over the years were present.
My musing was interrupted by an explosion. Startled, I frantically looked around for the source. The shock I had felt at seeing my old bow suddenly felt miniscule. There, in the center of the blast radius, was a familiar blue stone. An unfamiliar voice suddenly rang out in my mind.
Skills:
[Gamer's Mind] (Passive) MAX:
Most Gamers get a version of this skill that completely protects their mind from outside influence and keeps their emotions from overwhelming them, but not you! Your version gives you basic mental defenses that any competent mage could overcome! It also allows for the rapid understanding of new skills and concepts, in addition to the ideating of new spells the likes of which have never before been ruminated!
[Gamer's Body] (Passive) MAX:
This skill allows you to continue fighting at 1 HP as though you were at max. It further allows you to fully recover from practically anything after a single night's sleep! It's what allows you to live your life as a game, converting your various attributes, including those of others around you, to numerical values.
[Observe] (Active) MAX:
This skill grants information about the target to the Gamer. If it's used on a living target, the level difference will determine the amount of information that is revealed.
At that thought, I froze. I felt my heart begin pounding, frantically trying to escape my chest. My vision began to distort, twisting itself into an alien image. My throat closed as my breath started coming shorter and faster. I began to feel unnaturally hot, especially considering the winter wind that was blowing.
This continued for several minutes as my mind continued to spiral. If Saphira didn't hatch for me, then how could we ever defeat Galbatorix? Suddenly, a memory broke through. In a moment of doubt, I had asked Saphira why she had chosen me. She answered that, while she couldn't clearly remember her life inside the egg, she knew that she would always have chosen me. I clung desperately to that memory.
Slowly, my vision returned to normal. My breath evened out, and my heart calmed down. A chill ran down my spine as my body temperature returned to normal and I felt the crisp winter air. I took my remaining panic, and grief over losing my Saphira, and pushed it down to deal with at a later date. My voice rasped as I said, "I'm alright. Please continue."
Name: Eragon Bromsson
Age: 15 (Mental Age 17)
Title: The Gamer
Level: 4
Exp: 0
Class: Ranger (4/100) [+4 Dex each level]
Race: Human [+1 to all stats each level]
Alignment: Neutral Good
Tier: Mortal
HP: 424/424
HPR: 6.4/min
MP: 426/426
MPR: [LOCKED]
SP: 436/436
SPR: 7.6/min
Str: 19
Dex: 39
Int: 24
Wis: 24
Cha: 19
Con: 23
Lck: 19
Level: This is roughly how powerful you are.
Exp: This is how much progress you have made toward the next level. Each level requires more exp to reach.
Class: This is what you specialize in. While you can learn skills unrelated to your class, it will always be easier to match your skills to your class. You have been forced into the Ranger class, as hunting was your only skill to speak of at this time of your life.
HP and HPR: These are your health points and your health regeneration. Warning: If your health points reach zero, you die. There will be no tertiary chances.
MP and MPR: These are your mana points and your mana regeneration. Mana is the energy used to do magic. Warning: If your mana points reach zero, you will begin to draw from your stamina points at ten times the mana cost. If a spell also causes your stamina points to reach zero, you will begin to draw from your health points at ten times the stamina cost.
SP and SPR: These are your stamina points and your stamina regeneration. Warning: If your stamin points reach zero, you will faint.
Str: Strength. This is how strong you are. The average human has a strength of 10.
Dex: Dexterity. This is how nimble and agile you are. The average human has a dexterity of 10.
Int: Intelligence. This is how smart you are. Or, more accurately, it is how well you retain and learn new information. The average human has an intelligence of 10.
Wis: Wisdom. This is how wise you are. Or how well you are able to learn from your mistakes or apply your knowledge. The average human has a wisdom of 10.
Cha: Charisma. This is a measure of your personality. How well you are able to influence or lead others. The average human has a charisma of 10.
Con: Constitution. This is how healthy you are. The average human has a constitution of 10.
Lck: Luck. This is how lucky you are. Luck tends to be arbitrary from person to person, so there is no average value to be found.
That. . . was a lot of information, but it seemed simple enough to understand. A glimmer of pride rushed through me when I realized I was well above average in every way, even before becoming a Rider. Though that pride dimmed when I remembered that I still didn't measure up to even the weakest elf.
When it seemed that the voice had nothing else to say, I slowly approached Saphira's egg. I gently picked it up, cradling it to my chest, and began the walk back to Carvahall. I remembered the journey taking 3 days last time. Hopefully I would be able to find some game on the way, avoiding Slo–
My mind froze midthought. I had the chance to save Garrow. Continuing along that same train of thought, there were several people I could save. Brom, my father, could live. The only reason he died was to save me. And the recent appearance of Saphira's egg meant that Arya had only just been captured. I could save her from months of torture, but only if I act quickly. Stopping to think for a minute, I weighed my options.
That left Arya. She was already in Durza's custody, so time was of the essence. And I would likely have to fight him to free her. It was only by pure luck and Arya's distraction that I managed to kill Durza last time. And before that, I only just escaped him in Gilead with the aid of Murtagh and Saphira. I was currently much weaker than either of those encounters, so I had a lot of training to do.
Decision made, I set off towards Carvahal. I never had the chance to say goodbye to Garrow last time, and I wasn't going to leave without doing so again. As I was walking, I scooped up some small pebbles to begin training my magic again. "Stenr reisa," I called out while searching my mind for the source of my magic. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. It took a life or death situation to unlock last time, and that was after I was already a Rider. I continued to try for several hours to no avail. Eventually, I gave up magic as a lost cause, at least until Saphira hatched and bonded with me.
At that point, I got curious. I remembered Saphira telling me that she had vague memories of her time inside her egg, so I decided to reach out to her with my mind. It took considerably more effort than I was used to, but I eventually managed to force my mind out of its rigid confines. After that, it was easy to direct myself to Saphira's egg. Just as I was about to make contact, the game interrupted me, breaking my concentration and forcing my mind back to where it belonged.
The only thing left for me to train at that point was my archery. I only had a handful of arrows, so I had to be smart about my targets to ensure that the arrows were retrievable. Conveniently, I glimpsed a deer off in the distance. Crouching down, I quietly removed my pack and strung my bow.
I slowly crept closer to get a clean shot, nocking an arrow in preparation. Once I got to a comfortable distance, I took aim, drew, and fired. I immediately nocked another arrow, just in case the first missed. It wasn't necessary as my arrow flew true, piercing the deer's heart and killing it instantly. At least I won't be leaving Garrow and Roran without meat.
That night, after setting up camp, I curled around Saphira's egg and cried myself to sleep, finally allowing myself to grieve.
Nothing of note happened on the three-day journey back to Carvahall. I made a sled to drag the deer corpse behind me. With the knowledge that more than one deer would be too much to transport on my own, I limited my target practice to small game that I came across on the way back.
My hunting served a double purpose. I realized that I had no money of my own, so all my extra game could be sold in the village to at least give me something to start with. I felt sadistic glee at the thought of a bastard like Sloan inadvertently funding my quest, and I could trade all of the pelts to Gedric for the materials to make Saphira's first saddle.
Lost in thought, I almost missed a view that I hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime. The Anora river rushed off the cliff I was standing on, the Igualda Falls, before winding southward through Palancar Valley. The waterfall caused a dull roar to fill my ears. Utgard Mountain could be seen in the distance, an ancient outpost of the Riders, where Vrael made his last stand against Galbatorix over a hundred years ago. It couldn't truly be called a beautiful view, as winter was approaching and most of the valley was dead, but in the spring Palancar Valley transformed into one of the most majestic sights in all of Alagaesia.
As I prepared to descend, I decided to finally acknowledge the notifications I had been ignoring. What I saw shocked me.
You have learned to string a bow and fire an arrow, but you aren't very accurate yet.
Deal (Dex * Archery Lv) piercing damage per arrow.
Passively increases Dex by 1%.
You have become an expert marksman that few can match. However, you know that you still have much to learn.
Deal (Dex * Archery Lv * Ranger Lv) piercing damage per arrow.
Passively increases Dex by 120%.
Name: Eragon Bromsson
Age: 15 (Mentally 17)
Title: The Gamer
Level: 4
Exp: 0
Class: Ranger (4/100) [+4 Dex each level]
Race: Human [+1 to all stats each level]
Alignment: Neutral Good
Tier: Mortal
HP: 424/424
HPR: 6.4/min
MP: 0/426
MPR: [LOCKED]
SP: 482/482
SPR: 12.2/min
Str: 19
Dex: 39 (85.8)
Int: 24
Wis: 24
Cha: 19
Con: 23
Lck: 19
After considerable effort, I managed to shake off my shock and continue down to the valley floor. Before entering Carvahall, I stopped and began skinning all the small game I had killed. I would skin and clean the deer once I made it to the farm. I washed myself in the Anora River upon completion and made my way to Gedric's tannery.
"Gedric," I called out, alerting the man to my approach.
A man with large jowls and heavyset brows emerged from the house. "Eragon! What can I do for you?"
"I had an extraordinarily successful hunt and was hoping to trade some of the pelts away," I replied, gesturing to the makeshift sled I had been using to transport the spoils of my target practice.
"What exactly are you looking to get out of this trade?" Gedric asked, shedding his easygoing attitude to discuss business.
"A few ox hides," I answered.
Gedric went to my sled and began examining the pelts I was offering. "They appear to all be in good condition," he muttered. "Not that I expect anything less from the lad." He then raised his voice, "I can offer you 3 ox hides for all of this. Is that acceptable?"
"Of course."
We shook hands and Gedric began gathering the pelts. A few minutes later, he returned with the ox hides and I left, it was time to deal with Sloan.
Two things happened at once, then. Elva let out a shriek and fainted, and Galbatorix shouted, "Waíse néiat!"
Be not.
I had no time for words. Again drawing upon the Eldunarí, I cast a spell to drag myself, Saphira, Arya, Elva, Thorn, Murtagh, and the two children on the dais over to the block of stone where Nasuada was chained. And I also cast a spell to stop or deflect whatever might harm us.
We were only halfway to the block when Galbatorix vanished in a flash of light, brighter than the sun. Then I felt a massive draw on the power of the Eldunarí as my spell attempted to shield us. As seconds turned to minutes, the power being used kept increasing. I began to panic. It's not going to be enough, Saphira! I cried through our link. What else can we do?
I do not know, Little One, but we must think of something soon. The Eldunarí are nearly depleted. Suddenly, my mind returned to nearly a year ago. When my father Brom was on his deathbed he whispered 7 words in the Ancient Language, along with their meaning to me, with instructions to use them only in great need.
With our time running out, and nothing to lose, I decided to finally use my father's final gift. Pouring all my energy into what might be my final spell, I cried out, "Gefa edtha du megin eom moi wyrda!" Grant me the power to change fate. And with that, all went dark and silent.
Upon regaining consciousness, I could feel that something had gone horribly wrong. A warm presence was missing from my mind. Saphira? I mentally called out, hoping that my senses were being deceived. When no response came, I called out again, Saphira! I was beginning to get desperate. Saphira had only ever failed to answer me when Durza had drugged me, cutting me off from my magic. My senses were not dulled as they had been back then, so I knew that wasn't the cause. Even separated by all of Alagaesia we could still at least sense each other, but even that was missing. "Saphira!" my own voice rang out this time, mingling with my mental shout. There was still no response.
I finally opened my eyes, hoping against hope that my worst fear hadn't been realized. I wasn't sure I could survive losing Saphira. Instead of the ruined castle I was expecting to see, I found myself in a forest with no destruction in sight. A spark of hope blossomed in my chest. Maybe we had simply been transported, and the missing bond was caused by a distance greater than we had experienced thus far.
It was then that I noticed that I was not lying on the ground as I had assumed. I was instead crouched at the edge of a clearing, bow in hand. Confused, I stood straight and examined the bow. I almost dropped it in shock. I wasn't holding the reinforced bow the elves had sung for me, but instead my old yew bow. It was the bow that Garrow had helped me make, which had been broken months before by my enhanced strength. I could feel the grooves my fingers had worn in the wood through extensive use. Even the small scars it had accumulated over the years were present.
My musing was interrupted by an explosion. Startled, I frantically looked around for the source. The shock I had felt at seeing my old bow suddenly felt miniscule. There, in the center of the blast radius, was a familiar blue stone. An unfamiliar voice suddenly rang out in my mind.
Welcome to your Second Chance!
I am the Gamer System assigned to the Gamer designated "Eragon".
Second chance? Gamer system? What did any of that mean?I am the Gamer System assigned to the Gamer designated "Eragon".
Allow me to explain! This is your second chance at life. While you were ultimately successful in your mission, you felt that the cost was too high. So you used that final spell, unconsciously wanting to fix everything. This is the result. You get to start over and try again, with a little help from me.
The Gamer is an ability that allows its user to transcend their normal limits, allowing for practically unlimited growth. The Gamer, that's you, gains experience from completing quests and killing enemies. Experience, or exp, is needed to gain levels. Your level is a rough measurement of how powerful you are. You also gain skills based on actions you take. Here are your starting skills.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when a floating, translucent box containing runes appeared an arm's length in front of my face.The Gamer is an ability that allows its user to transcend their normal limits, allowing for practically unlimited growth. The Gamer, that's you, gains experience from completing quests and killing enemies. Experience, or exp, is needed to gain levels. Your level is a rough measurement of how powerful you are. You also gain skills based on actions you take. Here are your starting skills.
Skills:
[Gamer's Mind] (Passive) MAX:
Most Gamers get a version of this skill that completely protects their mind from outside influence and keeps their emotions from overwhelming them, but not you! Your version gives you basic mental defenses that any competent mage could overcome! It also allows for the rapid understanding of new skills and concepts, in addition to the ideating of new spells the likes of which have never before been ruminated!
[Gamer's Body] (Passive) MAX:
This skill allows you to continue fighting at 1 HP as though you were at max. It further allows you to fully recover from practically anything after a single night's sleep! It's what allows you to live your life as a game, converting your various attributes, including those of others around you, to numerical values.
[Observe] (Active) MAX:
This skill grants information about the target to the Gamer. If it's used on a living target, the level difference will determine the amount of information that is revealed.
Would you like to continue this tutorial?
I felt overwhelmed. If the voice was telling the truth, then I was responsible for undoing all of the progress we had made toward defeating the king. It would fall on my shoulders to fix things, even more so than it previously did. I had changed extensively since becoming a Rider. What if that change was enough for Saphira to not choose me?
At that thought, I froze. I felt my heart begin pounding, frantically trying to escape my chest. My vision began to distort, twisting itself into an alien image. My throat closed as my breath started coming shorter and faster. I began to feel unnaturally hot, especially considering the winter wind that was blowing.
This continued for several minutes as my mind continued to spiral. If Saphira didn't hatch for me, then how could we ever defeat Galbatorix? Suddenly, a memory broke through. In a moment of doubt, I had asked Saphira why she had chosen me. She answered that, while she couldn't clearly remember her life inside the egg, she knew that she would always have chosen me. I clung desperately to that memory.
Slowly, my vision returned to normal. My breath evened out, and my heart calmed down. A chill ran down my spine as my body temperature returned to normal and I felt the crisp winter air. I took my remaining panic, and grief over losing my Saphira, and pushed it down to deal with at a later date. My voice rasped as I said, "I'm alright. Please continue."
Excellent. Let us start with the basics. This is your character sheet. To view it, simply think the word 'stats'.
Another box, this one containing numbers in addition to the runes, appeared where the previous one had been. While I could read several words and understood the numbers, most of the box made no sense to me. I can only imagine how it would have appeared before Brom taught me to read.
Name: Eragon Bromsson
Age: 15 (Mental Age 17)
Title: The Gamer
Level: 4
Exp: 0
Class: Ranger (4/100) [+4 Dex each level]
Race: Human [+1 to all stats each level]
Alignment: Neutral Good
Tier: Mortal
HP: 424/424
HPR: 6.4/min
MP: 426/426
MPR: [LOCKED]
SP: 436/436
SPR: 7.6/min
Str: 19
Dex: 39
Int: 24
Wis: 24
Cha: 19
Con: 23
Lck: 19
Some parts of your character sheet are fairly obvious, so we will ignore name, age, race, and alignment.
Title: This is what you are known for. Some titles will grant various bonuses, while others may give penalties. Until you earn some renown, you are stuck with the default title of The Gamer, which provides no bonuses or penalties.
Level: This is roughly how powerful you are.
Exp: This is how much progress you have made toward the next level. Each level requires more exp to reach.
Class: This is what you specialize in. While you can learn skills unrelated to your class, it will always be easier to match your skills to your class. You have been forced into the Ranger class, as hunting was your only skill to speak of at this time of your life.
HP and HPR: These are your health points and your health regeneration. Warning: If your health points reach zero, you die. There will be no tertiary chances.
MP and MPR: These are your mana points and your mana regeneration. Mana is the energy used to do magic. Warning: If your mana points reach zero, you will begin to draw from your stamina points at ten times the mana cost. If a spell also causes your stamina points to reach zero, you will begin to draw from your health points at ten times the stamina cost.
SP and SPR: These are your stamina points and your stamina regeneration. Warning: If your stamin points reach zero, you will faint.
Str: Strength. This is how strong you are. The average human has a strength of 10.
Dex: Dexterity. This is how nimble and agile you are. The average human has a dexterity of 10.
Int: Intelligence. This is how smart you are. Or, more accurately, it is how well you retain and learn new information. The average human has an intelligence of 10.
Wis: Wisdom. This is how wise you are. Or how well you are able to learn from your mistakes or apply your knowledge. The average human has a wisdom of 10.
Cha: Charisma. This is a measure of your personality. How well you are able to influence or lead others. The average human has a charisma of 10.
Con: Constitution. This is how healthy you are. The average human has a constitution of 10.
Lck: Luck. This is how lucky you are. Luck tends to be arbitrary from person to person, so there is no average value to be found.
That. . . was a lot of information, but it seemed simple enough to understand. A glimmer of pride rushed through me when I realized I was well above average in every way, even before becoming a Rider. Though that pride dimmed when I remembered that I still didn't measure up to even the weakest elf.
When it seemed that the voice had nothing else to say, I slowly approached Saphira's egg. I gently picked it up, cradling it to my chest, and began the walk back to Carvahall. I remembered the journey taking 3 days last time. Hopefully I would be able to find some game on the way, avoiding Slo–
My mind froze midthought. I had the chance to save Garrow. Continuing along that same train of thought, there were several people I could save. Brom, my father, could live. The only reason he died was to save me. And the recent appearance of Saphira's egg meant that Arya had only just been captured. I could save her from months of torture, but only if I act quickly. Stopping to think for a minute, I weighed my options.
Quest Alert!
Rescue Mission!
You have set out to save some of your loved ones from their original fates.
Objectives:
Rescue Arya from Durza.
Save Garrow from the Raz'zac.
Prevent Brom's death at the hands of the Raz'zac.
Rewards:
10k exp per objective
Increased reputation with Arya. Massively increased reputation with the Elves and The Varden
Increased reputation with Garrow, Roran, and Carvahal
Increased reputation with Brom and The Varden
Accept?
Y/N
I accepted without hesitation, then took some time to plan how I would pull this off. The only reason the Raz'zac targeted Garrow was to get to me once Sloan told them I had Saphira's egg. There was no way I would try to sell her this time, so that should take care of itself. Brom died saving me so if I left without him he should remain safe.Rescue Mission!
You have set out to save some of your loved ones from their original fates.
Objectives:
Rescue Arya from Durza.
Save Garrow from the Raz'zac.
Prevent Brom's death at the hands of the Raz'zac.
Rewards:
10k exp per objective
Increased reputation with Arya. Massively increased reputation with the Elves and The Varden
Increased reputation with Garrow, Roran, and Carvahal
Increased reputation with Brom and The Varden
Accept?
Y/N
That left Arya. She was already in Durza's custody, so time was of the essence. And I would likely have to fight him to free her. It was only by pure luck and Arya's distraction that I managed to kill Durza last time. And before that, I only just escaped him in Gilead with the aid of Murtagh and Saphira. I was currently much weaker than either of those encounters, so I had a lot of training to do.
Decision made, I set off towards Carvahal. I never had the chance to say goodbye to Garrow last time, and I wasn't going to leave without doing so again. As I was walking, I scooped up some small pebbles to begin training my magic again. "Stenr reisa," I called out while searching my mind for the source of my magic. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. It took a life or death situation to unlock last time, and that was after I was already a Rider. I continued to try for several hours to no avail. Eventually, I gave up magic as a lost cause, at least until Saphira hatched and bonded with me.
At that point, I got curious. I remembered Saphira telling me that she had vague memories of her time inside her egg, so I decided to reach out to her with my mind. It took considerably more effort than I was used to, but I eventually managed to force my mind out of its rigid confines. After that, it was easy to direct myself to Saphira's egg. Just as I was about to make contact, the game interrupted me, breaking my concentration and forcing my mind back to where it belonged.
Warning!
Mana has been depleted. Beginning to draw from Stamina.
"Blast!" I exclaimed in frustration.Mana has been depleted. Beginning to draw from Stamina.
The only thing left for me to train at that point was my archery. I only had a handful of arrows, so I had to be smart about my targets to ensure that the arrows were retrievable. Conveniently, I glimpsed a deer off in the distance. Crouching down, I quietly removed my pack and strung my bow.
I slowly crept closer to get a clean shot, nocking an arrow in preparation. Once I got to a comfortable distance, I took aim, drew, and fired. I immediately nocked another arrow, just in case the first missed. It wasn't necessary as my arrow flew true, piercing the deer's heart and killing it instantly. At least I won't be leaving Garrow and Roran without meat.
That night, after setting up camp, I curled around Saphira's egg and cried myself to sleep, finally allowing myself to grieve.
Nothing of note happened on the three-day journey back to Carvahall. I made a sled to drag the deer corpse behind me. With the knowledge that more than one deer would be too much to transport on my own, I limited my target practice to small game that I came across on the way back.
My hunting served a double purpose. I realized that I had no money of my own, so all my extra game could be sold in the village to at least give me something to start with. I felt sadistic glee at the thought of a bastard like Sloan inadvertently funding my quest, and I could trade all of the pelts to Gedric for the materials to make Saphira's first saddle.
Lost in thought, I almost missed a view that I hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime. The Anora river rushed off the cliff I was standing on, the Igualda Falls, before winding southward through Palancar Valley. The waterfall caused a dull roar to fill my ears. Utgard Mountain could be seen in the distance, an ancient outpost of the Riders, where Vrael made his last stand against Galbatorix over a hundred years ago. It couldn't truly be called a beautiful view, as winter was approaching and most of the valley was dead, but in the spring Palancar Valley transformed into one of the most majestic sights in all of Alagaesia.
As I prepared to descend, I decided to finally acknowledge the notifications I had been ignoring. What I saw shocked me.
Skill created!
Archery (Active) [Lv 1/100]:
You have learned to string a bow and fire an arrow, but you aren't very accurate yet.
Deal (Dex * Archery Lv) piercing damage per arrow.
Passively increases Dex by 1%.
Previous experience detected!
Updating skill.
Archery (Active) [Lv 60/100]:Updating skill.
You have become an expert marksman that few can match. However, you know that you still have much to learn.
Deal (Dex * Archery Lv * Ranger Lv) piercing damage per arrow.
Passively increases Dex by 120%.
Name: Eragon Bromsson
Age: 15 (Mentally 17)
Title: The Gamer
Level: 4
Exp: 0
Class: Ranger (4/100) [+4 Dex each level]
Race: Human [+1 to all stats each level]
Alignment: Neutral Good
Tier: Mortal
HP: 424/424
HPR: 6.4/min
MP: 0/426
MPR: [LOCKED]
SP: 482/482
SPR: 12.2/min
Str: 19
Dex: 39 (85.8)
Int: 24
Wis: 24
Cha: 19
Con: 23
Lck: 19
After considerable effort, I managed to shake off my shock and continue down to the valley floor. Before entering Carvahall, I stopped and began skinning all the small game I had killed. I would skin and clean the deer once I made it to the farm. I washed myself in the Anora River upon completion and made my way to Gedric's tannery.
"Gedric," I called out, alerting the man to my approach.
A man with large jowls and heavyset brows emerged from the house. "Eragon! What can I do for you?"
"I had an extraordinarily successful hunt and was hoping to trade some of the pelts away," I replied, gesturing to the makeshift sled I had been using to transport the spoils of my target practice.
"What exactly are you looking to get out of this trade?" Gedric asked, shedding his easygoing attitude to discuss business.
"A few ox hides," I answered.
Gedric went to my sled and began examining the pelts I was offering. "They appear to all be in good condition," he muttered. "Not that I expect anything less from the lad." He then raised his voice, "I can offer you 3 ox hides for all of this. Is that acceptable?"
"Of course."
We shook hands and Gedric began gathering the pelts. A few minutes later, he returned with the ox hides and I left, it was time to deal with Sloan.
Welcome, any new readers, to my Inheritance Cycle Gamer Fic A Gamer's Inheritance. This has already been on fanfiction.net and ao3 for a few month now, but I thought I'd expand my audience by posting here.
This chapter was Beta'd by Morde24.
You can join me in Shiro's Gaming Omniverse via the link in my profile.
This chapter was Beta'd by Morde24.
You can join me in Shiro's Gaming Omniverse via the link in my profile.
Mythology216
Getting out there.
- Joined
- Jun 12, 2020
- Messages
- 18
- Likes received
- 185
After leaving Gedric's, I found an isolated tree on the edge of the village. I strung up the deer from a branch, hanging up the ox-hides on a separate one. I emptied out my pack, storing the supplies at the base of the tree, and placed as much of the skinned game in it as I could. The rest I tied together, draping some over my shoulders and hanging the rest from my belt. Reluctantly, I placed Saphira's egg in a hollowed out part of the tree, using leaves and grass to hide it from view. I didn't want to risk Sloan seeing it by chance. Fully prepared, I set out to see the butcher.
I braced myself as I entered Sloan's shop, a broad, thick-beamed building. He had never liked my family, looking down on us for being simple farmers. His dislike always seemed more personal in regards to me, as though I were something unclean that personally offended him. The feeling was mutual.
The inside of the shop was just as scrupulously clean as I remembered it being. There wasn't a speck of dust visible anywhere. Even the counter, where Sloan would handle raw, bloody meat, was eerily clean without even a single blood stain visible.
Sloan himself was a small man, wearing a cotton shirt with an impressive array of knives swinging from his belt. Over his shirt he wore a long, bloodstained smock, the only thing I could see that wasn't clean. He had a sallow, pockmarked face and black, suspicious eyes. "What are you doing here, boy?" Sloan asked with a sneer once he noticed me. He hung the cleaver he had been sharpening on his belt.
"I had a successful hunt, so decided to sell you my surplus meat," I said. I gestured at all the meat I was carrying.
I watched the sneer fade from Sloan's face, begrudging respect entering his eyes. He gestured for me to hand over the meat and began inspecting it. He mumbled indistinctly, looking for any flaws. Finally, he looked up from his inspection, "I'll give you 50 crowns and not a bit more."
I felt that he should have offered more, as I was providing him with a substantial amount of meat. I didn't want to argue with him this time, so I accepted the offer without even attempting to haggle. He went to a different room, where I assume he kept his safe, returning a short time later with my payment. "It was nice doing business with you," I said as I left the building.
Returning to collect Saphira's egg I retrieved the hides I had traded Gedric for.
Unburdened by all the small game, my journey home went much faster than the trek into the village. The fact that I hadn't seen home in nearly two years served to energize me even more. The looming darkness was pierced by the moon cresting the mountains, bathing the land in an eerie, flat light.
We lived ten miles south of the village, the farthest of any of the surrounding farms. A simple path led up a knoll, straight through waist-high grass. A cluster of elm trees grew at the top of the small hill, almost hiding our house from view. A gentle light shone from the house, letting me know Garrow was still awake, waiting for me to return.
Adjusting the hides in my pack one final time, I headed up the path and opened the front door. As I had expected Garrow was sitting in his chair, drinking what I suspected to be a weak beer. He looked up at the creaking of the door, "I expected you home several days ago. We were starting to worry that a bear, or even an Urgal, had gotten you."
Forcing myself to act as though it hadn't been two years since I last saw him, I barely managed to get out, "I was tracking a wounded doe for the first three days, but a wolf managed to get it first." A look of alarm came over Garrow's face. "Don't worry, it never came close to me. I was perched in a tree at the time. But after that I had to to either find a new quarry or come home empty-handed. I chose to keep trying, and it paid off."
Nodding Garrow finished off his beer and stood up. "That's a relief. How was the weather?"
"Cold. It didn't snow, but there was frost every morning," I said, slightly amused at how some things don't change.
Garrow's brow creased. "In that case, we should both get to bed. We need to get the harvest in before the weather turns." He started walking towards his room.
I took a deep breath and blinked rapidly, tears unexpectedly welling in my eyes. Impulsively I dropped my pack and followed after Garrow. Clasping him on the back I stopped Garrow, "About that. I need to leave Carvahall."
"Why?" Garrow replied.
"I want to find out what happened to my mother, and I can't do that if I stay in the village."
Garrow sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised. You have too much of her in you. When were you planning to leave?"
"In the morning. I still need to bid Roran farewell," I replied. If I wanted to prevent Arya from being tortured, I had no time to waste.
"Very well. Roran and I will manage without you." With that Garrow turned around and continued back to his room.
Heading back to the front door I retrieved my pack and began organizing it, taking supplies from the pantry to replenish what I had eaten on my hunt. After repacking my bag, and ensuring that the skins meant for Saphira's saddle were packed appropriately, I finally made my way to my room. Tomorrow will be a long day and I need to be well rested if I am going to make it to Arya in time.
I woke with a start to see Roran's grim face staring down at me. "Garrow said you had something to tell me."
Shaking my head to wake up quicker I nodded to Roran. "Yes I did, I am planning on heading out to find what happened to my mother."
Roran nodded and gestured towards the door, where his pack was sitting. "I'm coming with you, already got everything ready. We can head out after breakfast."
"But what about Katrina? You were planning on proposing to her. Are you just going to abandon her like that?"
Roran nodded, "I was planning on proposing to her today. I'm sure she'd be willing to come with us."
"But do you think Sloan will let her?" I shook my head, "No, you have to stay. I'll not take Katrina from you. I'll return as soon as I find out what happened to my mother."
Sighing, Roran nodded and clasped me on the shoulder. "In that case, farewell and good luck."
Nodding I slipped on my boots and headed for where I left my pack. Checking one last time to ensure that Saphira's egg was safely ensconced in the pack, I swung it onto my shoulder and headed out the door. With one last, longing look at the house I turned my attention to the path in front of me, firmly fixing my mind on what I would need to do in order to rescue Arya.
That night, I decided to start training myself to use a sword again. I carved a stick, just as Brom had done last time, and went through the motions that were once second nature for me. It was difficult. My mind may have remembered the moves, but my body did not. I was soon panting and drenched in sweat, but I forced myself to continue. Suddenly, my efforts felt slightly easier and a rune box appeared before me. I had nearly forgotten about my new ability, so I was startled out of the rhythm I had fallen into.
You've just learned how to swing a stick. You definitely shouldn't pick up an actual sword yet.
Deal (Str * Swordplay Lv) slashing damage per swing and the same in piercing damage per thrust (At least once you start using an actual sword. For now it's all bludgeoning damage)
Passively increases Str by 1%
I winced at the low level. I had once been counted amongst the greatest swordsmen alive. I had a long way to go to reach that point again.
A sharp squeak rang through the air, drawing my attention. Saphira was getting ready to hatch. All the lingering worry I had that Saphira wouldn't hatch for me again disappeared, replaced by a growing sense of joy and anticipation. I dropped my stick and rushed to pick up the egg. A few more squeaks rang out before the egg began to shake in my hands.
I grinned in anticipation when the first crack appeared, several more following to converge at the top of the egg. Where all the cracks met, a portion of shell wobbled before being pushed out, the awkward form of a newborn dragon forcing its way out.
My anticipatory grin transformed into a full smile at the sight. I reached out with my right hand, both to pat her head and to initiate our bond, and felt a familiar icy warmth shoot through me. I was a Rider once again.
Age: 15 (Mentally 17)
Title: Dragon Rider [+2 to all stats each level] (only applies to those levels earned after gaining the title)
Level: 4
Exp: 0
Class: Ranger (4/100) [+4 Dex each level]
Race: Human [+1 to all stats each level]
Alignment: Neutral Good
Tier: Mortal
HP: 424/424
HPR: 6.4/min
MP: 0/426
MPR: 6.6/min
SP: 482/482
SPR: 12.2/min
Str: 19 (19.19)
Dex: 39 (85.8)
Int: 24
Wis: 24
Cha: 19
Con: 23
Lck: 19
With that, I lost consciousness, just like the last time I had bonded with Saphira.
I was jolted awake by a familiarly foreign, presence pressing against my mind. It was Saphira, but she couldn't communicate with words yet. Instead I just felt a ravenous hunger that wasn't my own. I smiled fondly as I pulled out some of the extra jerky that I had packed and fed it to her, remembering how we went through a similar routine last time shortly after she hatched.
When Saphira was fully sated, I prepared some food for myself so I could turn in for the night. I had a long day of travel and training ahead of me. But with Saphira finally with me, everything felt more manageable.
This chapter was Beta'd/Co-authored by Morde24.
You can join me in the Omniverse via the link in my profile.
I braced myself as I entered Sloan's shop, a broad, thick-beamed building. He had never liked my family, looking down on us for being simple farmers. His dislike always seemed more personal in regards to me, as though I were something unclean that personally offended him. The feeling was mutual.
The inside of the shop was just as scrupulously clean as I remembered it being. There wasn't a speck of dust visible anywhere. Even the counter, where Sloan would handle raw, bloody meat, was eerily clean without even a single blood stain visible.
Sloan himself was a small man, wearing a cotton shirt with an impressive array of knives swinging from his belt. Over his shirt he wore a long, bloodstained smock, the only thing I could see that wasn't clean. He had a sallow, pockmarked face and black, suspicious eyes. "What are you doing here, boy?" Sloan asked with a sneer once he noticed me. He hung the cleaver he had been sharpening on his belt.
"I had a successful hunt, so decided to sell you my surplus meat," I said. I gestured at all the meat I was carrying.
I watched the sneer fade from Sloan's face, begrudging respect entering his eyes. He gestured for me to hand over the meat and began inspecting it. He mumbled indistinctly, looking for any flaws. Finally, he looked up from his inspection, "I'll give you 50 crowns and not a bit more."
I felt that he should have offered more, as I was providing him with a substantial amount of meat. I didn't want to argue with him this time, so I accepted the offer without even attempting to haggle. He went to a different room, where I assume he kept his safe, returning a short time later with my payment. "It was nice doing business with you," I said as I left the building.
Returning to collect Saphira's egg I retrieved the hides I had traded Gedric for.
Unburdened by all the small game, my journey home went much faster than the trek into the village. The fact that I hadn't seen home in nearly two years served to energize me even more. The looming darkness was pierced by the moon cresting the mountains, bathing the land in an eerie, flat light.
We lived ten miles south of the village, the farthest of any of the surrounding farms. A simple path led up a knoll, straight through waist-high grass. A cluster of elm trees grew at the top of the small hill, almost hiding our house from view. A gentle light shone from the house, letting me know Garrow was still awake, waiting for me to return.
Adjusting the hides in my pack one final time, I headed up the path and opened the front door. As I had expected Garrow was sitting in his chair, drinking what I suspected to be a weak beer. He looked up at the creaking of the door, "I expected you home several days ago. We were starting to worry that a bear, or even an Urgal, had gotten you."
Forcing myself to act as though it hadn't been two years since I last saw him, I barely managed to get out, "I was tracking a wounded doe for the first three days, but a wolf managed to get it first." A look of alarm came over Garrow's face. "Don't worry, it never came close to me. I was perched in a tree at the time. But after that I had to to either find a new quarry or come home empty-handed. I chose to keep trying, and it paid off."
Nodding Garrow finished off his beer and stood up. "That's a relief. How was the weather?"
"Cold. It didn't snow, but there was frost every morning," I said, slightly amused at how some things don't change.
Garrow's brow creased. "In that case, we should both get to bed. We need to get the harvest in before the weather turns." He started walking towards his room.
I took a deep breath and blinked rapidly, tears unexpectedly welling in my eyes. Impulsively I dropped my pack and followed after Garrow. Clasping him on the back I stopped Garrow, "About that. I need to leave Carvahall."
"Why?" Garrow replied.
"I want to find out what happened to my mother, and I can't do that if I stay in the village."
Garrow sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised. You have too much of her in you. When were you planning to leave?"
"In the morning. I still need to bid Roran farewell," I replied. If I wanted to prevent Arya from being tortured, I had no time to waste.
"Very well. Roran and I will manage without you." With that Garrow turned around and continued back to his room.
Heading back to the front door I retrieved my pack and began organizing it, taking supplies from the pantry to replenish what I had eaten on my hunt. After repacking my bag, and ensuring that the skins meant for Saphira's saddle were packed appropriately, I finally made my way to my room. Tomorrow will be a long day and I need to be well rested if I am going to make it to Arya in time.
I woke with a start to see Roran's grim face staring down at me. "Garrow said you had something to tell me."
Shaking my head to wake up quicker I nodded to Roran. "Yes I did, I am planning on heading out to find what happened to my mother."
Roran nodded and gestured towards the door, where his pack was sitting. "I'm coming with you, already got everything ready. We can head out after breakfast."
"But what about Katrina? You were planning on proposing to her. Are you just going to abandon her like that?"
Roran nodded, "I was planning on proposing to her today. I'm sure she'd be willing to come with us."
"But do you think Sloan will let her?" I shook my head, "No, you have to stay. I'll not take Katrina from you. I'll return as soon as I find out what happened to my mother."
Sighing, Roran nodded and clasped me on the shoulder. "In that case, farewell and good luck."
Nodding I slipped on my boots and headed for where I left my pack. Checking one last time to ensure that Saphira's egg was safely ensconced in the pack, I swung it onto my shoulder and headed out the door. With one last, longing look at the house I turned my attention to the path in front of me, firmly fixing my mind on what I would need to do in order to rescue Arya.
That night, I decided to start training myself to use a sword again. I carved a stick, just as Brom had done last time, and went through the motions that were once second nature for me. It was difficult. My mind may have remembered the moves, but my body did not. I was soon panting and drenched in sweat, but I forced myself to continue. Suddenly, my efforts felt slightly easier and a rune box appeared before me. I had nearly forgotten about my new ability, so I was startled out of the rhythm I had fallen into.
A new skill has been created!
Swordplay (Active) [Lv 1/100]
You've just learned how to swing a stick. You definitely shouldn't pick up an actual sword yet.
Deal (Str * Swordplay Lv) slashing damage per swing and the same in piercing damage per thrust (At least once you start using an actual sword. For now it's all bludgeoning damage)
Passively increases Str by 1%
I winced at the low level. I had once been counted amongst the greatest swordsmen alive. I had a long way to go to reach that point again.
A sharp squeak rang through the air, drawing my attention. Saphira was getting ready to hatch. All the lingering worry I had that Saphira wouldn't hatch for me again disappeared, replaced by a growing sense of joy and anticipation. I dropped my stick and rushed to pick up the egg. A few more squeaks rang out before the egg began to shake in my hands.
I grinned in anticipation when the first crack appeared, several more following to converge at the top of the egg. Where all the cracks met, a portion of shell wobbled before being pushed out, the awkward form of a newborn dragon forcing its way out.
My anticipatory grin transformed into a full smile at the sight. I reached out with my right hand, both to pat her head and to initiate our bond, and felt a familiar icy warmth shoot through me. I was a Rider once again.
Congratulations! You have earned your first title, [Dragon Rider]!
You have also unlocked your Mana Regeneration and the ability to use magic!
Here is your updated character sheet!
Name: Eragon BromssonYou have also unlocked your Mana Regeneration and the ability to use magic!
Here is your updated character sheet!
Age: 15 (Mentally 17)
Title: Dragon Rider [+2 to all stats each level] (only applies to those levels earned after gaining the title)
Level: 4
Exp: 0
Class: Ranger (4/100) [+4 Dex each level]
Race: Human [+1 to all stats each level]
Alignment: Neutral Good
Tier: Mortal
HP: 424/424
HPR: 6.4/min
MP: 0/426
MPR: 6.6/min
SP: 482/482
SPR: 12.2/min
Str: 19 (19.19)
Dex: 39 (85.8)
Int: 24
Wis: 24
Cha: 19
Con: 23
Lck: 19
With that, I lost consciousness, just like the last time I had bonded with Saphira.
I was jolted awake by a familiarly foreign, presence pressing against my mind. It was Saphira, but she couldn't communicate with words yet. Instead I just felt a ravenous hunger that wasn't my own. I smiled fondly as I pulled out some of the extra jerky that I had packed and fed it to her, remembering how we went through a similar routine last time shortly after she hatched.
When Saphira was fully sated, I prepared some food for myself so I could turn in for the night. I had a long day of travel and training ahead of me. But with Saphira finally with me, everything felt more manageable.
This chapter was Beta'd/Co-authored by Morde24.
You can join me in the Omniverse via the link in my profile.
Mythology216
Getting out there.
- Joined
- Jun 12, 2020
- Messages
- 18
- Likes received
- 185
The next morning I grabbed a pebble from the banks of the Anora River. According to the System, bonding with Saphira should have unlocked my magic. Therefore, I would be spending my travel time attempting the basic exercises Brom had once assigned me.
Before I could begin, I came to a realization. A significant part of my power before had been derived from fighting alongside Saphira, but it would be a few months before she was ready to fight by my side again.
I knew there were spells to accelerate her growth, the same way Galbatorix did to Thorn. The issue with that method was that it only affected the body. Her mind would still be that of a hatchling, which could lead to issues later on. Thorn's mind was evidence enough of that.
On top of the potential risks was the fact that Oromis refused to teach me the spells required, so I would have to experiment with the Ancient Language to discover them myself. That carried its own risks as well. If I didn't get the words absolutely perfect, there was a very real chance that the spell would kill me before doing anything.
Alternatively, I could simply wait for her to get large enough. I could remain in the wilderness, avoiding towns and roads, and take a more circuitous route to Gilead. The issue there came from Arya. The longer it took me to reach Gilead, the longer she would be at Durza's mercy.
I held no illusions that I could even come close to defeating Durza, especially if he had soldiers and Urgals under his command, so I would need Saphira to get away. I didn't even have a sword this time.
I paused to seriously consider the choice before me. The dull roar of the Anora River was nearly masking all other sounds in the area. I opened my mind and reached out to feel the life around me. A smile graced my face when I felt an ant colony, remembering how focused on a similar colony I was when Oromis first had me meditate. I decided to indulge and followed the colony for a few minutes.
You have learned to open your mind to the world around you, allowing it to rejuvenate you. Skill cannot be used in conjunction with any other activity. Changes all regeneration rates from per minute to per second when active.
From her perch on my shoulder, Saphira let out a squeak, jolting me out of my meditation. I chuckled and shook my head. There was no way I could risk harming Saphira, no matter how desperate I was to have her back completely; nothing was worth losing her again.
Decision made, I finally started walking for the day. More intent than ever on rediscovering my magic, I intoned, "Stenr reisa." The pebble in my hand stubbornly refused to budge. I dove into my mind, searching for the source of power that once came so readily to my hands. There! A small barrier in a forgotten corner of my mind radiated power. I surrounded the barrier and began to probe it for weaknesses, to no avail.
My pleasant mood was rapidly declining with my continuous failures. How was I supposed to save Arya if I couldn't even access my magic? I would more than likely have to face Durza in my rescue attempt, and doing so without magic was suicide. Pushing down my frustration, I tried again, determined to make some progress.
I was ready to collapse in defeat by the end of the day. Despite my determination, I had made no progress in my attempts to use magic. I grumbled to myself as I built a campfire for the night. The System had told me my magic was unlocked, so why couldn't I actually use it?
I gave up on brooding over my defeat and began practicing with my makeshift sword. At least that was something I could actually improve on.
I settled into a half-crouch, stick held in one hand to my side. I closed my eyes and thought of everything I could remember from learning with Brom. I opened my eyes and began circling to the right, keeping where I imagined Brom would be moving directly ahead. I suddenly lunged forward, but aborted halfway. Brom would have easily countered that move and ended our fight.
The distance between us would have been greatly reduced, so I stopped circling. I made a few half-hearted swipes, as though testing his defenses, but Brom would have let nothing through. Deciding to employ some dirty tactics, I reached down and threw some dust into the air. Using the distraction, I made a quick jab. Brom hadn't survived the past century by falling for simple tricks, so he would have parried my jab, leaving me open to a counterattack. I leaned to my left, trying to avoid the imagined strike, and lost my balance.
I got up and brushed myself off. It wasn't much, but I had done slightly better than the day before. I settled into my stance once again to continue practicing.
Over the next week, my days followed the same pattern; magic practice as I was walking followed by sword practice till I dropped. While I had yet to have any success with my magic, I had gained another two levels in swordplay. I had finished sharing our past with Saphira fairly quickly and spent the rest of my free time just talking to her. She had yet to respond, but I wasn't concerned; she had waited a month before speaking last time.
The seventh morning dawned like all the rest. Around midday, however, I saw something in the distance. At first, I thought nothing of it. I assumed it was Therinsford finally appearing. Several minutes later, though, it became clear that I was seeing something else. What had begun as a hazy shape on the horizon had become a large crowd of people heading straight for me.
Saphira, hide! I shouted mentally. I sensed a great deal of reluctance flow across our bond, but I insisted, I need you to listen to me. These people cannot know about you yet. Any number of them could be loyal to Galbatorix. It's better for me to face them alone. Saphira complied, giving a snort of smoke and sending a wave of displeasure through our bond, and I continued on my own.
It didn't take too much longer for the distance between us to narrow enough that I finally recognized them as the Traders. I had forgotten that they were due to arrive in Carvahal soon. I prepared to veer off the road to allow the caravan to pass while I continued on my way, but the Caravan stopped instead. They began setting up camp, though there were still several hours of daylight left.
Curious, I approached them. The men eyed me as I approached, some of them placing their hands on their swords or daggers. The women ushered their children closer to them, and further away from me. I frowned. I didn't recall the Traders ever being that cautious.
"Hello! You're heading for Carvahal, correct?" One of the men gave a curt nod, so I continued. "May I ask why you're setting up camp so early? There are several hours of daylight left, and the village is still a week's journey away."
One of the men stepped forward and pointed south. "There's a storm coming. If you don't want to be caught in it, you should set up camp as well." I followed his finger with my gaze. There, on the horizon, was a white wall that was slowly getting larger. My eyes widened. How had I not noticed that until now?
"Thank you. I'd better go and start setting up my own camp."
I began to walk away before another man called out. "Wait. You should set up camp here. A storm like this is too dangerous to weather on your own."
I considered his offer. It would mean remaining separated from Saphira for longer than either of us preferred, but the man had a point. The blizzard coming would last for several days, and I was more likely to survive it with a large group. I glanced at the rest of the caravan. No one looked opposed to me accepting, some of the older children even looked hopeful.
"Thank you for the offer. If there's anything I can do to help, just ask."
The next few hours were spent helping pitch tents and gather wood. From what I could gather, they planned to build a large bonfire in the center of camp to keep us warm during the storm.
We managed to finish our preparations with some time to spare, so I decided to practice my swordplay until the storm hit. As I settled into my stance, some of the older boys interrupted me. "What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to teach myself to use a sword."
The boys were visibly excited by my answer. "Can you teach us?" the same one that interrupted me asked eagerly.
I considered it for a moment. If I accepted, it would give me people to practice with, at least temporarily. "I can try, although I'm just a beginner myself. Before we start, you need to gather some straight sticks about this size." I held up my makeshift sword to show them.
The boy eagerly ran off to do as I asked. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" a voice asked from behind me. I turned with a start. The man who had offered me sanctuary was standing behind me with an amused grin.
"I have no idea what I'm doing. I was being honest when I told them I was just a beginner, but trying to teach them should help me learn more. Even if it doesn't, there's no harm in trying."
"I happen to know a thing or two about fighting, so I'll stick around and supervise you. I won't interfere unless it looks like you're failing miserably."
I nodded, "I appreciate it." I knelt on the ground to meditate until the boys returned. I expanded my mind, careful not to invade any of the minds around me. Almost immediately, I felt the man behind me stiffen as barriers went up around his mind. Shocked, I retreated back to my mind. I opened my eyes to find the man drawing his sword.
I scrambled to my feet and settled into a defensive stance. I doubted I could win, especially not with a stick, but maybe I could last until help arrived. "What are you doing?" I called out loudly, cursing myself for choosing to practice in such a remote location.
Instead of answering, I felt him attempt to pierce my mental barriers. I narrowed my eyes as I reinforced them. With his mental attack blocked for now, the man charged me, swinging for my neck. I was just able to get my stick up in time, barely diverting his attack down and to the left. Before I was able to capitalize on the opening, I was staggered by a redoubled mental attack.
Growling in frustration, I decided to attempt breaking into his mind. With the force his attacks had, I expected some formidable barriers, so I threw all the force I could muster behind my attack. Surprisingly, I shattered his barriers with ease. He stumbled back, stunned at the force of my attack.
I was, once again, unable to capitalize, as I was lost in the man's memories. I watched as what seemed like the man's entire life flashed through my mind.
A boy, Caleb, entered his parents room to find their throats had been slit in the night. Caleb was taken in by servants of the king, Tom and Sarah. His parents' killer was never found.
The man, Caleb as I now knew him, struggled to his feet.
Caleb, now older, began training as a castle guard. He quickly rose through the ranks, impressing his superiors. Eventually, he gained an audience with the king.
Caleb retrieved his sword from where it had fallen.
King Galbatorix was more magnificent than Caleb had imagined. He asked Caleb his past, and seemed genuinely interested in Caleb's response.
He began to move toward me, sword raised.
When the king heard about Caleb's parents, he immediately realized who was responsible. Caleb was overjoyed to finally have a target for his vengeance: The Varden. Galbatorix cooled his excitement, however, and gave him a different assignment. The king had received word that one of his old enemies was still alive. Caleb's mission was to track down those rumours by any means necessary.
I wrenched myself from his mind, falling back just in time to avoid Caleb's slash. He stalked closer, once more raising his sword. My stick had been knocked away at one point, so I had no defense.
Suddenly, a familiar strength flooded through me. Desperate, I called out the first spell I could think of, "Brisingr!"
An unexpectedly enormous surge of power left me, and was still being drained. Frantically, I cast my mind out and connected to everything around me for extra power. The spell stopped drawing from me, and dozens of life sources started winking out of existence.
A circle of death began rapidly expanding from me. Caleb's eyes went wide. He dropped his sword and turned to run away.
Before he could take a step, the circle overtook him and he froze. I watched, horrified, as he seemed to shrivel in on himself. Eventually he fell to the ground, dead.
I started frantically trying to end my spell, but my efforts were futile. I tried to disconnect from the life around me, preferring death to sacrificing human life, but that too was in vain. The radius kept expanding. I began hearing screams from the camp, before they were cut short.
Every life that ended sent me spiralling deeper into despair. I had killed before, but this was different. The people I was with didn't deserve to die.
I chuckled mirthlessly. There was a time when the thought of anyone deserving to die would have horrified me. I remembered how disgusted I had been when Murtagh killed the disarmed Torkenbrand. How the mighty have fallen.
Eventually, there were no more lifeforms within range of my mind and the spell began drawing from me once more, albeit at a much slower pace. I got a warning from the system that my mana was empty before the spell finally stopped.
A blinding light filled the area, accompanied by a deafening roar. The light quickly died, though the roar went on for a few more moments. I cautiously opened my eyes. For as far as I could see, life had been drained from everything. I looked to where Caleb had fallen just in time to see him crumble to dust.
There, just within arm's reach, was my sword. Suddenly, a deluge of dings filled my ears as rune boxes filled my vision.
Name: Eragon Bromsson
Age: 15 (Mental Age 17)
Title: The Gamer, Dragon Rider [+2 to all stats each level]
Level: 7
Exp: 8392
Class: Ranger (4/100) [+4 Dex each level], Warrior (3/100) [+2 Str & Con each level]
Race: Human [+1 to all stats each level]
Alignment: Neutral Good
Tier: Mortal
HP: 805/805
HPR: 175/min
MP: 1589/1589
MPR: 32.9/min
SP: 920.5/920.5
SPR: 29.05/min
Str: 36 (37.44)
Dex: 50 (110)
Int: 35
Wis: 35
Cha: 30
Con: 40
Lck: 30
I sat in stunned silence. I was a monster. Not only had I killed scores of innocent people, I had grown stronger from it. Hours passed, but I had yet to move. The storm finally hit, and I still just sat there. Eventually, I felt someone enter the range of my mind. I recoiled in disgust at myself, withdrawing back into my mind and locking it down tighter than ever But still, I did not move.
The snow was piling up around me when I felt a gentle knocking at my mental barriers, but I refused to lower them. The knocking continued, only growing in intensity, but I steadfastly ignored it. Finally, what felt like a battering ram crashed into my shields, shattering them with as much ease as I had shattered Caleb's.
Eragon. A familiar voice resonated through my mind.
Saphira?
Yes, Little One. I am here. Before I could question her use of 'Little One', she sent a rush of memories into my mind. I saw events from the previous timeline, only from Saphira's perspective.
With growing wonder, I asked, Are you really her? Are you my Saphira? A hum of affirmation came through our bond, and I began to weep in joy. I had my partner back. I didn't have to try to build that relationship with a new version of her.
A shiver made me realize how cold I had gotten and how thick the snow was. Luckily, the bonfire had been built before the incident, so I just needed to light it "Brisingr." This time, I fixed exactly what I wanted to do in my mind, Hoping to mitigate the chances of history repeating itself. With the fire lit, and my magic finally back, I cast a spell to keep it within its area and went to the nearest tent to sleep.
Betad/Co-authored by Morde24
You can join me in the Omniverse via the link in my profile.
Before I could begin, I came to a realization. A significant part of my power before had been derived from fighting alongside Saphira, but it would be a few months before she was ready to fight by my side again.
I knew there were spells to accelerate her growth, the same way Galbatorix did to Thorn. The issue with that method was that it only affected the body. Her mind would still be that of a hatchling, which could lead to issues later on. Thorn's mind was evidence enough of that.
On top of the potential risks was the fact that Oromis refused to teach me the spells required, so I would have to experiment with the Ancient Language to discover them myself. That carried its own risks as well. If I didn't get the words absolutely perfect, there was a very real chance that the spell would kill me before doing anything.
Alternatively, I could simply wait for her to get large enough. I could remain in the wilderness, avoiding towns and roads, and take a more circuitous route to Gilead. The issue there came from Arya. The longer it took me to reach Gilead, the longer she would be at Durza's mercy.
I held no illusions that I could even come close to defeating Durza, especially if he had soldiers and Urgals under his command, so I would need Saphira to get away. I didn't even have a sword this time.
I paused to seriously consider the choice before me. The dull roar of the Anora River was nearly masking all other sounds in the area. I opened my mind and reached out to feel the life around me. A smile graced my face when I felt an ant colony, remembering how focused on a similar colony I was when Oromis first had me meditate. I decided to indulge and followed the colony for a few minutes.
Skill created!
Meditation (Active) [Lvl Max]:
You have learned to open your mind to the world around you, allowing it to rejuvenate you. Skill cannot be used in conjunction with any other activity. Changes all regeneration rates from per minute to per second when active.
From her perch on my shoulder, Saphira let out a squeak, jolting me out of my meditation. I chuckled and shook my head. There was no way I could risk harming Saphira, no matter how desperate I was to have her back completely; nothing was worth losing her again.
Decision made, I finally started walking for the day. More intent than ever on rediscovering my magic, I intoned, "Stenr reisa." The pebble in my hand stubbornly refused to budge. I dove into my mind, searching for the source of power that once came so readily to my hands. There! A small barrier in a forgotten corner of my mind radiated power. I surrounded the barrier and began to probe it for weaknesses, to no avail.
My pleasant mood was rapidly declining with my continuous failures. How was I supposed to save Arya if I couldn't even access my magic? I would more than likely have to face Durza in my rescue attempt, and doing so without magic was suicide. Pushing down my frustration, I tried again, determined to make some progress.
I was ready to collapse in defeat by the end of the day. Despite my determination, I had made no progress in my attempts to use magic. I grumbled to myself as I built a campfire for the night. The System had told me my magic was unlocked, so why couldn't I actually use it?
I gave up on brooding over my defeat and began practicing with my makeshift sword. At least that was something I could actually improve on.
I settled into a half-crouch, stick held in one hand to my side. I closed my eyes and thought of everything I could remember from learning with Brom. I opened my eyes and began circling to the right, keeping where I imagined Brom would be moving directly ahead. I suddenly lunged forward, but aborted halfway. Brom would have easily countered that move and ended our fight.
The distance between us would have been greatly reduced, so I stopped circling. I made a few half-hearted swipes, as though testing his defenses, but Brom would have let nothing through. Deciding to employ some dirty tactics, I reached down and threw some dust into the air. Using the distraction, I made a quick jab. Brom hadn't survived the past century by falling for simple tricks, so he would have parried my jab, leaving me open to a counterattack. I leaned to my left, trying to avoid the imagined strike, and lost my balance.
I got up and brushed myself off. It wasn't much, but I had done slightly better than the day before. I settled into my stance once again to continue practicing.
Swordplay has leveled up [1 - 2]
I collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. I had practiced well into the night, the motions slowly becoming more natural, before the System finally gave me proof of my improvement. Before drifting off, I opened my mind to Saphira and started sharing my life with her. We had just reached the point when her egg had appeared the first time when sleep finally claimed me.
Over the next week, my days followed the same pattern; magic practice as I was walking followed by sword practice till I dropped. While I had yet to have any success with my magic, I had gained another two levels in swordplay. I had finished sharing our past with Saphira fairly quickly and spent the rest of my free time just talking to her. She had yet to respond, but I wasn't concerned; she had waited a month before speaking last time.
The seventh morning dawned like all the rest. Around midday, however, I saw something in the distance. At first, I thought nothing of it. I assumed it was Therinsford finally appearing. Several minutes later, though, it became clear that I was seeing something else. What had begun as a hazy shape on the horizon had become a large crowd of people heading straight for me.
Saphira, hide! I shouted mentally. I sensed a great deal of reluctance flow across our bond, but I insisted, I need you to listen to me. These people cannot know about you yet. Any number of them could be loyal to Galbatorix. It's better for me to face them alone. Saphira complied, giving a snort of smoke and sending a wave of displeasure through our bond, and I continued on my own.
It didn't take too much longer for the distance between us to narrow enough that I finally recognized them as the Traders. I had forgotten that they were due to arrive in Carvahal soon. I prepared to veer off the road to allow the caravan to pass while I continued on my way, but the Caravan stopped instead. They began setting up camp, though there were still several hours of daylight left.
Curious, I approached them. The men eyed me as I approached, some of them placing their hands on their swords or daggers. The women ushered their children closer to them, and further away from me. I frowned. I didn't recall the Traders ever being that cautious.
"Hello! You're heading for Carvahal, correct?" One of the men gave a curt nod, so I continued. "May I ask why you're setting up camp so early? There are several hours of daylight left, and the village is still a week's journey away."
One of the men stepped forward and pointed south. "There's a storm coming. If you don't want to be caught in it, you should set up camp as well." I followed his finger with my gaze. There, on the horizon, was a white wall that was slowly getting larger. My eyes widened. How had I not noticed that until now?
"Thank you. I'd better go and start setting up my own camp."
I began to walk away before another man called out. "Wait. You should set up camp here. A storm like this is too dangerous to weather on your own."
I considered his offer. It would mean remaining separated from Saphira for longer than either of us preferred, but the man had a point. The blizzard coming would last for several days, and I was more likely to survive it with a large group. I glanced at the rest of the caravan. No one looked opposed to me accepting, some of the older children even looked hopeful.
"Thank you for the offer. If there's anything I can do to help, just ask."
The next few hours were spent helping pitch tents and gather wood. From what I could gather, they planned to build a large bonfire in the center of camp to keep us warm during the storm.
We managed to finish our preparations with some time to spare, so I decided to practice my swordplay until the storm hit. As I settled into my stance, some of the older boys interrupted me. "What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to teach myself to use a sword."
The boys were visibly excited by my answer. "Can you teach us?" the same one that interrupted me asked eagerly.
I considered it for a moment. If I accepted, it would give me people to practice with, at least temporarily. "I can try, although I'm just a beginner myself. Before we start, you need to gather some straight sticks about this size." I held up my makeshift sword to show them.
The boy eagerly ran off to do as I asked. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" a voice asked from behind me. I turned with a start. The man who had offered me sanctuary was standing behind me with an amused grin.
"I have no idea what I'm doing. I was being honest when I told them I was just a beginner, but trying to teach them should help me learn more. Even if it doesn't, there's no harm in trying."
"I happen to know a thing or two about fighting, so I'll stick around and supervise you. I won't interfere unless it looks like you're failing miserably."
I nodded, "I appreciate it." I knelt on the ground to meditate until the boys returned. I expanded my mind, careful not to invade any of the minds around me. Almost immediately, I felt the man behind me stiffen as barriers went up around his mind. Shocked, I retreated back to my mind. I opened my eyes to find the man drawing his sword.
I scrambled to my feet and settled into a defensive stance. I doubted I could win, especially not with a stick, but maybe I could last until help arrived. "What are you doing?" I called out loudly, cursing myself for choosing to practice in such a remote location.
Instead of answering, I felt him attempt to pierce my mental barriers. I narrowed my eyes as I reinforced them. With his mental attack blocked for now, the man charged me, swinging for my neck. I was just able to get my stick up in time, barely diverting his attack down and to the left. Before I was able to capitalize on the opening, I was staggered by a redoubled mental attack.
Growling in frustration, I decided to attempt breaking into his mind. With the force his attacks had, I expected some formidable barriers, so I threw all the force I could muster behind my attack. Surprisingly, I shattered his barriers with ease. He stumbled back, stunned at the force of my attack.
I was, once again, unable to capitalize, as I was lost in the man's memories. I watched as what seemed like the man's entire life flashed through my mind.
A boy, Caleb, entered his parents room to find their throats had been slit in the night. Caleb was taken in by servants of the king, Tom and Sarah. His parents' killer was never found.
The man, Caleb as I now knew him, struggled to his feet.
Caleb, now older, began training as a castle guard. He quickly rose through the ranks, impressing his superiors. Eventually, he gained an audience with the king.
Caleb retrieved his sword from where it had fallen.
King Galbatorix was more magnificent than Caleb had imagined. He asked Caleb his past, and seemed genuinely interested in Caleb's response.
He began to move toward me, sword raised.
When the king heard about Caleb's parents, he immediately realized who was responsible. Caleb was overjoyed to finally have a target for his vengeance: The Varden. Galbatorix cooled his excitement, however, and gave him a different assignment. The king had received word that one of his old enemies was still alive. Caleb's mission was to track down those rumours by any means necessary.
I wrenched myself from his mind, falling back just in time to avoid Caleb's slash. He stalked closer, once more raising his sword. My stick had been knocked away at one point, so I had no defense.
Suddenly, a familiar strength flooded through me. Desperate, I called out the first spell I could think of, "Brisingr!"
An unexpectedly enormous surge of power left me, and was still being drained. Frantically, I cast my mind out and connected to everything around me for extra power. The spell stopped drawing from me, and dozens of life sources started winking out of existence.
A circle of death began rapidly expanding from me. Caleb's eyes went wide. He dropped his sword and turned to run away.
Before he could take a step, the circle overtook him and he froze. I watched, horrified, as he seemed to shrivel in on himself. Eventually he fell to the ground, dead.
I started frantically trying to end my spell, but my efforts were futile. I tried to disconnect from the life around me, preferring death to sacrificing human life, but that too was in vain. The radius kept expanding. I began hearing screams from the camp, before they were cut short.
Every life that ended sent me spiralling deeper into despair. I had killed before, but this was different. The people I was with didn't deserve to die.
I chuckled mirthlessly. There was a time when the thought of anyone deserving to die would have horrified me. I remembered how disgusted I had been when Murtagh killed the disarmed Torkenbrand. How the mighty have fallen.
Eventually, there were no more lifeforms within range of my mind and the spell began drawing from me once more, albeit at a much slower pace. I got a warning from the system that my mana was empty before the spell finally stopped.
A blinding light filled the area, accompanied by a deafening roar. The light quickly died, though the roar went on for a few more moments. I cautiously opened my eyes. For as far as I could see, life had been drained from everything. I looked to where Caleb had fallen just in time to see him crumble to dust.
There, just within arm's reach, was my sword. Suddenly, a deluge of dings filled my ears as rune boxes filled my vision.
Quest Alert!
Survive!
You have attracted the ire of one of the Traders, causing them to try to kill you.
Objectives:
1. Survive long enough for help to arrive. (completed)
2. Prevent the man from breaking into your mind. (completed)
3. Break into his mind and learn his secrets. (completed)
4. Kill/subdue the man. (completed-killed)
Rewards:
1. 400 Exp
2. 800 Exp
3. 1600 Exp
4. 3200 Exp
170 people, 984 animals, and countless insects and plantlife killed.
Take 20,000 Exp
Congratulations!
You have managed to survive casting a spell worth 10 million mana.
As a reward, you gain a permanent 2x multiplier to you mana and mana regeneration.
Congratulations!
You have managed to summon your sword, Brisingr, across time and space.
As a reward, you gain access to the Inventory.
Inventory: similar to the spell taught to you by the Eldunari, the inventory allows you to carry items in a sort of pocket dimension. Any limits to the inventory must be discovered by the Gamer.Survive!
You have attracted the ire of one of the Traders, causing them to try to kill you.
Objectives:
1. Survive long enough for help to arrive. (completed)
2. Prevent the man from breaking into your mind. (completed)
3. Break into his mind and learn his secrets. (completed)
4. Kill/subdue the man. (completed-killed)
Rewards:
1. 400 Exp
2. 800 Exp
3. 1600 Exp
4. 3200 Exp
170 people, 984 animals, and countless insects and plantlife killed.
Take 20,000 Exp
Congratulations!
You have managed to survive casting a spell worth 10 million mana.
As a reward, you gain a permanent 2x multiplier to you mana and mana regeneration.
Congratulations!
You have managed to summon your sword, Brisingr, across time and space.
As a reward, you gain access to the Inventory.
You have leveled up 
!
Please choose which class to level up.
[Ranger: +4 Dex each level] [Warrior: +2 Str and Con each level] [Mage: +4 Int each level]
(note that you do not have to choose the same class every level)
I instinctively chose Warrior.!Please choose which class to level up.
[Ranger: +4 Dex each level] [Warrior: +2 Str and Con each level] [Mage: +4 Int each level]
(note that you do not have to choose the same class every level)
Name: Eragon Bromsson
Age: 15 (Mental Age 17)
Title: The Gamer, Dragon Rider [+2 to all stats each level]
Level: 7
Exp: 8392
Class: Ranger (4/100) [+4 Dex each level], Warrior (3/100) [+2 Str & Con each level]
Race: Human [+1 to all stats each level]
Alignment: Neutral Good
Tier: Mortal
HP: 805/805
HPR: 175/min
MP: 1589/1589
MPR: 32.9/min
SP: 920.5/920.5
SPR: 29.05/min
Str: 36 (37.44)
Dex: 50 (110)
Int: 35
Wis: 35
Cha: 30
Con: 40
Lck: 30
I sat in stunned silence. I was a monster. Not only had I killed scores of innocent people, I had grown stronger from it. Hours passed, but I had yet to move. The storm finally hit, and I still just sat there. Eventually, I felt someone enter the range of my mind. I recoiled in disgust at myself, withdrawing back into my mind and locking it down tighter than ever But still, I did not move.
The snow was piling up around me when I felt a gentle knocking at my mental barriers, but I refused to lower them. The knocking continued, only growing in intensity, but I steadfastly ignored it. Finally, what felt like a battering ram crashed into my shields, shattering them with as much ease as I had shattered Caleb's.
Eragon. A familiar voice resonated through my mind.
Saphira?
Yes, Little One. I am here. Before I could question her use of 'Little One', she sent a rush of memories into my mind. I saw events from the previous timeline, only from Saphira's perspective.
With growing wonder, I asked, Are you really her? Are you my Saphira? A hum of affirmation came through our bond, and I began to weep in joy. I had my partner back. I didn't have to try to build that relationship with a new version of her.
A shiver made me realize how cold I had gotten and how thick the snow was. Luckily, the bonfire had been built before the incident, so I just needed to light it "Brisingr." This time, I fixed exactly what I wanted to do in my mind, Hoping to mitigate the chances of history repeating itself. With the fire lit, and my magic finally back, I cast a spell to keep it within its area and went to the nearest tent to sleep.
Betad/Co-authored by Morde24
You can join me in the Omniverse via the link in my profile.
Mythology216
Getting out there.
- Joined
- Jun 12, 2020
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After nearly a century of research, Galbatorix could feel that he was getting close to his goal. Then, he could finally ride out on Shruikan and put a permanent end to the minor annoyance that thought they stood a chance at overthrowing him. He scowled at the thought of The Varden, one of Brom's many attempts to fight against him.
They thought they were clever and safe, hiding in Tronjheim, not realizing how easy it had been for him to slip spies and saboteurs amongst them. The king's musings were cut short when he felt one of the many oaths binding servants to his will vanish. Mildly concerned, not at the potential loss of an easily replaceable servant but at the possibility of a servant figuring a way out of their oath, Galbatorix searched his mind for the subject of the missing oath.
It was Caleb, the man he had tasked with traveling the Empire in search of Brom. Galbatorix's concern grew. If anyone could find a loophole out of an oath he designed personally, it was that man.
He needed to see what happened with his agent. If the man was dead, then all was well. If, however, the man was living free of his oaths, Galbatorix would deal with him personally. Fixing Caleb's image in his mind's eye, Galbatorix stared into a mirror and cast an altered scrying spell that allowed him to see people and places he was unfamiliar with.
An image slowly formed on the mirror. In the center was Caleb, dead, but Galbatorix's eyes were drawn to the figure kneeling nearby. If he didn't know better, he would have thought he was staring at an adolescent Brom.
Galbatorix smirked. His old enemy must have had a son, presenting a weakness to be taken advantage of. Intent on figuring out where this new pawn was, Galbatorix focused on expanding the view of his spell. The image slowly shrank, revealing more of the surrounding area. It was then that he noticed the rapidly expanding circle of death around the boy.
He watched, captivated, as every member of the caravan quickly had the life sucked out of them. His smirk widened into a full grin when he realized what was happening. The boy would make a fine replacement for Morzan.
The image stopped expanding and Galbatorix looked on eagerly, ready to learn where to find his newest servant. There was a river flowing down the middle of a valley in a familiar mountain range: The Spine. Galbatorix cursed. He hated The Spine. It reminded him of everything he had lost. The lone mountain at the southern end of the river brought the smirk back to his face.
Edoc'sil would always hold a special place in his black heart. He refused to even utter the names given to it by his enemies and the commoners. For him, it would remain Unconquerable to show that he had done the impossible to earn his victory.
Satisfied with the information he had gathered, Galbatorix dropped his spell and made his way to the throne room. "Send for Murtagh," he commanded one of his servants. The servant hesitated. "Do not make me repeat myself"
"I am sorry, my king, but Murtagh escaped in the night. His instructor, Tornac, was captured aiding him," the servant responded. A nervous sweat was building on his brow.
Galbatorix wanted to scowl at the news. That boy had begun to test his patience. He had too much of his mother in him. Appearances had to be kept, however, so he ensured that his face remained blank while he stared down the servant. Eventually, when it appeared as though the servant was about to faint, Galbaatorix spoke, "Leave me." The servant visibly sagged in relief as he rushed out of the throne room.
Galbatorix stalked from the throne room back to his . How dare that whelp defy him? He had welcomed the boy into his palace after Morzan's death, asking for nothing in return. He had even begun to prepare the boy to replace his father, and he had the gall to run away?
Galbatorix cast out his consciousness toward Dras Leona. When he felt the considerable presence of the High Priest, he blasted through the man's defences. Send the Ra'zac to hunt down Morzan's son. He left Uru'baen during the night. I want him returned to me alive and unspoiled.
He cut the connection, redirecting his mind south to Aroughs. He knew the perfect servant to fetch Brom's son for him.
Oromis had been scrying Arya when her party was ambushed, so he knew she had transported the egg somewhere. While he didn't know where, exactly, she had sent it, there were only two options: either Brom in Carvahal or back to the Varden. He suspected that the energy needed to transport a dragon egg from Du Weldenvarden to the Beor Mountains was beyond her capabilities, so he immediately scryed Brom to ensure the egg reached its destination. It didn't.
He had been expanding his search since then, hoping beyond hope that the last free dragon egg had not fallen back into the betrayer's clutches. It only took a few days for him to find Brom's son walking south and carrying a dragon hatchling. Oromis rejoiced. There was a new Rider in the world! Not only that, but the new Rider was the son of his favorite student.
Oromis decided to continue checking in on the new Rider, ready to intervene if absolutely necessary. He was pleased at the initiative the boy had taken in trying to learn to fight. He didn't expect the training to be very effective, as the boy was simply swinging a stick at the air, but it was better than remaining defenseless.
Brom must have taught his son something, though. Instead of the blind flailing of a beginner, Oromis observed what was clearly an experienced swordsman practicing his forms. However, as though designed to contradict his earlier observation, the boy made small mistakes that no experienced warrior should make. A slight overextension that led to a fall was one such example. It was almost as though the boy was unfamiliar with his own body.
Oromis' confusion only grew when he later saw the boy holding a pebble in his hand, a look of concentration on his face. It appeared that the young Rider was attempting to use magic, but Oromis knew Brom would only pass on that knowledge if he had no other choice. Which meant someone else had taught the boy, someone skilled enough to evade Brom while teaching the man's son.
Oromis needed to learn more, before he made a rash decision. I need your aid, old friend, Oromis mentally called out to Glaedr.
Glaedr, fully aware of what his Rider intended, melded their minds together. As one, they cast their minds toward Palancar Valley, seeking out the dragon hatchling, careful to avoid alerting the new Rider to their presence. The hatchling was too young to truly communicate, but they were able to glean enough from her mind to know the new Rider was at least on their side. Relieved, they withdrew back into their separate bodies.
The new Rider may have been an ally, but their unexplained knowledge warranted more frequent monitoring. Oromis retrieved an old mirror that had been used before the fall to allow Riders to communicate from afar, and cast a permanent scrying spell on it focused on the new Rider.
Several days passed with nothing happening. Brom's son seemed to be making no progress with his magic, though his swordsmanship was improving faster than Oromis expected with the training method being used. It pleased him when the boy sent his young dragon away before she could be discovered. What happened in the following hours, however, utterly horrified Oromis.
He watched, stunned, as the new Rider appeared to engage one of the men in mental combat. The boy easily won the encounter, but looked to be lost in his enemy's mind. Oromis clenched his fists. The boy was making no move to defend himself! He was going to die before ever having a chance to grow strong enough to defeat the Black King!
Oromis prepared to cast out his own mind to save the boy himself when he jolted back into awareness. A look of panic came over the boy's face as he realized that he was about to die. Then, he cried out in clear desperation. The mirror didn't carry any sound, so Oromis wasn't sure what was said.
It was what happened next that horrified Oromis. Everyone other than the new Rider suddenly started dropping dead. Birds dropped from the sky, and animals collapsed to the ground. His eyes widened when he realized what had happened. The new Rider, purely on instinct, had latched onto the life around him in an effort to avoid killing himself with a poorly cast spell.
Sickened at the massive loss of life, Oromis threw a sheet over his scrying mirror. He would resume watching the boy the next day. Are we doomed to replace one monster with another? he wondered.
The boy is no monster, Gleadr rumbled in response. You were too focused on what was happening to look at him. He was horrified at what was happening. The Black King would have been gleeful in that situation. Glaedr's response eased his troubled mind, though he still had concerns about how the boy knew about magic. He decided to adopt a 'wait and see' approach and judge the boy's character when they eventually met.
I awoke with a start the next morning, still not used to actually sleeping. The familiar warmth nuzzled into my side quickly calmed my racing heart. Saphira had found her way through the storm and into my tent. Once I was fully calm, I noticed some more rune boxes at the edge of my vision. I must have missed them the night before.
You have gained the ability to do magic! While your knowledge is extensive, your body must grow used to channeling your power to take full advantage of this skill.
Passively increases Int by 1%.
You have gained the ability to do magic! While your knowledge is extensive, your body must grow used to channeling your power to take full advantage of this skill.
Passively increases Int by 4%.
Energy Transference (Active) [Lv 1/25]
You have rediscovered the ability to transfer energy between living things and/or objects. At higher levels, less energy will be wasted in the transfer.
Current wasted energy: 50%.
You have rediscovered the ability to transfer energy between living things and/or objects. At higher levels, less energy will be wasted in the transfer.
Current wasted energy: 42%.
Name: Eragon Bromsson
Age: 15 (Mental Age 17)
Title: The Gamer, Dragon Rider [+2 to all stats each level]
Level: 7
Exp: 8392
Class: Ranger (4/100) [+4 Dex each level], Warrior (3/100) [+2 Str & Con each level]
Race: Human [+1 to all stats each level]
Alignment: Neutral Good
Tier: Mortal
HP: 805/805
HPR: 175/min
MP: 1596/1596
MPR: 32.9/min
SP: 920.5/920.5
SPR: 29.05/min
Str: 36 (37.44)
Dex: 50 (110)
Int: 35 (36.4)
Wis: 35
Cha: 30
Con: 40
Lck: 30
Tears began to fall from my eyes. The boxes, and their proof of my improvement, had reminded me of all the innocent life that had been lost due to my carelessness.
Eragon don't be stupid. I jolted out of my bout of self loathing. I thought I had been imagining things when I heard Saphira the previous night. Joy filled my heart that that wasn't the case.
What do you mean? If I had been careful, none of them would have died. I protested. It was my actions that had killed them and I couldn't just ignore that.
You couldn't possibly have known that a simple fire spell would go awry in such a manner. Your sword shouldn't even exist yet. So, Stop. Blaming. Yourself.
I had to concede that she had a point. That may be true, but it was my carelessness that made me need to use magic in the first place. If I hadn't reached out with my mind, Caleb would never have attacked me.
Saphira retorted, And if you hadn't done so, your home may have suffered for it.
I scrunched my brow in confusion. What do you mean by that?
That man was a servant of the Black King. He could very well be the reason the Ra'zac came to Carvahal last time.
My eyes widened. I hadn't thought of that, but she was right. I would always mourn the needless loss of life, but I could not continue to blame myself for events beyond my control.
I sat with Saphira for a while, simply enjoying her presence, before something occurred to me. Saphira, how are you. . . I trailed off, not sure how to word my question.
Little One, we are bound together. Did you really think your magic would ever separate us? When you came back, so did I. I could feel the amusement in her answer.
In my defense, this entire situation is new.
Saphira hummed in agreement. You need to accelerate my growth.
I turned sharply to look at her. What‽ No, it's too dangerous. I'm not willing to risk you.
She growled. You always seem to find trouble, and at my current size I would be of little help to you. I opened my mouth to protest, but Saphira continued, Do not deny what you know is true. You are actively seeking trouble this time. You know Arya is with that Shade, and yet you are determined to go after her. You are no longer strong enough to do this on your own, so let me help you.
I sat in silence, contemplating Saphira's argument. Eventually, I sighed. Very well.
Saphira sent a sense of smug satisfaction across our bond. Let us start now.
What? Why now? I protested.
Saphira responded dryly, We have nothing else to do while we wait out this storm. I refuse to allow my Rider to laze about when he can be doing something productive.
I can practice with my magic or Brisingr— Brisingr burst into flame where it was lying, cutting off my response. I cut off the flow of energy with a curse.
Eragon, stop stalling. We both know that you cannot spend the entire time on that. Sapira snapped.
I sighed in defeat. Very well. We'll need to figure out how to word the spell, and you'll need to provide the energy. She hummed in acceptance.
We spent the next few hours figuring out the details. I decided to sing the spell, similar to how the elves perform most of their larger magic. Saphira wanted me to sing it until we were drained, but I managed to convince her that once a day would be enough. Gilead was still months of travel away, so she should have grown plenty by then.
I gulped nervously. The only more intricate spell that I had ever cast was when I healed Elain's daughter, Hope's, cleft lip. I sat with my back against one of the tent posts, and Saphira curled up next to me. We joined minds, sharing our energy, and I sang.
I watched, transfixed, as Saphira slowly grew throughout the spell. I lost track of time while singing, but I was shocked by how much she grew. When I started she was the size of an average dog, her shoulders just reaching my knee when we stood together. When I finished singing, she had easily doubled in size.
You have gained the ability to do magic! While your knowledge is extensive, your body must grow used to channeling your power to take full advantage of this skill.
Passively increases Int by 6%.
This is your ability to string words together to make new spells. Higher levels allow you to do more with less words.
Passively increases Wis by 1%.
This is your ability to string words together to make new spells. Higher levels allow you to do more with less words.
Passively increases Wis by 20%.
She wasn't large enough to ride yet, but it appeared that she would be by the time the storm was over. While I had been reluctant to do it, I was looking forward to flying with her again.
Betad/Co-authored by Morde24, with help from Mand'alor.
You can join me in the Omniverse via the link in my profile.
They thought they were clever and safe, hiding in Tronjheim, not realizing how easy it had been for him to slip spies and saboteurs amongst them. The king's musings were cut short when he felt one of the many oaths binding servants to his will vanish. Mildly concerned, not at the potential loss of an easily replaceable servant but at the possibility of a servant figuring a way out of their oath, Galbatorix searched his mind for the subject of the missing oath.
It was Caleb, the man he had tasked with traveling the Empire in search of Brom. Galbatorix's concern grew. If anyone could find a loophole out of an oath he designed personally, it was that man.
He needed to see what happened with his agent. If the man was dead, then all was well. If, however, the man was living free of his oaths, Galbatorix would deal with him personally. Fixing Caleb's image in his mind's eye, Galbatorix stared into a mirror and cast an altered scrying spell that allowed him to see people and places he was unfamiliar with.
An image slowly formed on the mirror. In the center was Caleb, dead, but Galbatorix's eyes were drawn to the figure kneeling nearby. If he didn't know better, he would have thought he was staring at an adolescent Brom.
Galbatorix smirked. His old enemy must have had a son, presenting a weakness to be taken advantage of. Intent on figuring out where this new pawn was, Galbatorix focused on expanding the view of his spell. The image slowly shrank, revealing more of the surrounding area. It was then that he noticed the rapidly expanding circle of death around the boy.
He watched, captivated, as every member of the caravan quickly had the life sucked out of them. His smirk widened into a full grin when he realized what was happening. The boy would make a fine replacement for Morzan.
The image stopped expanding and Galbatorix looked on eagerly, ready to learn where to find his newest servant. There was a river flowing down the middle of a valley in a familiar mountain range: The Spine. Galbatorix cursed. He hated The Spine. It reminded him of everything he had lost. The lone mountain at the southern end of the river brought the smirk back to his face.
Edoc'sil would always hold a special place in his black heart. He refused to even utter the names given to it by his enemies and the commoners. For him, it would remain Unconquerable to show that he had done the impossible to earn his victory.
Satisfied with the information he had gathered, Galbatorix dropped his spell and made his way to the throne room. "Send for Murtagh," he commanded one of his servants. The servant hesitated. "Do not make me repeat myself"
"I am sorry, my king, but Murtagh escaped in the night. His instructor, Tornac, was captured aiding him," the servant responded. A nervous sweat was building on his brow.
Galbatorix wanted to scowl at the news. That boy had begun to test his patience. He had too much of his mother in him. Appearances had to be kept, however, so he ensured that his face remained blank while he stared down the servant. Eventually, when it appeared as though the servant was about to faint, Galbaatorix spoke, "Leave me." The servant visibly sagged in relief as he rushed out of the throne room.
Galbatorix stalked from the throne room back to his . How dare that whelp defy him? He had welcomed the boy into his palace after Morzan's death, asking for nothing in return. He had even begun to prepare the boy to replace his father, and he had the gall to run away?
Galbatorix cast out his consciousness toward Dras Leona. When he felt the considerable presence of the High Priest, he blasted through the man's defences. Send the Ra'zac to hunt down Morzan's son. He left Uru'baen during the night. I want him returned to me alive and unspoiled.
He cut the connection, redirecting his mind south to Aroughs. He knew the perfect servant to fetch Brom's son for him.
Oromis had been scrying Arya when her party was ambushed, so he knew she had transported the egg somewhere. While he didn't know where, exactly, she had sent it, there were only two options: either Brom in Carvahal or back to the Varden. He suspected that the energy needed to transport a dragon egg from Du Weldenvarden to the Beor Mountains was beyond her capabilities, so he immediately scryed Brom to ensure the egg reached its destination. It didn't.
He had been expanding his search since then, hoping beyond hope that the last free dragon egg had not fallen back into the betrayer's clutches. It only took a few days for him to find Brom's son walking south and carrying a dragon hatchling. Oromis rejoiced. There was a new Rider in the world! Not only that, but the new Rider was the son of his favorite student.
Oromis decided to continue checking in on the new Rider, ready to intervene if absolutely necessary. He was pleased at the initiative the boy had taken in trying to learn to fight. He didn't expect the training to be very effective, as the boy was simply swinging a stick at the air, but it was better than remaining defenseless.
Brom must have taught his son something, though. Instead of the blind flailing of a beginner, Oromis observed what was clearly an experienced swordsman practicing his forms. However, as though designed to contradict his earlier observation, the boy made small mistakes that no experienced warrior should make. A slight overextension that led to a fall was one such example. It was almost as though the boy was unfamiliar with his own body.
Oromis' confusion only grew when he later saw the boy holding a pebble in his hand, a look of concentration on his face. It appeared that the young Rider was attempting to use magic, but Oromis knew Brom would only pass on that knowledge if he had no other choice. Which meant someone else had taught the boy, someone skilled enough to evade Brom while teaching the man's son.
Oromis needed to learn more, before he made a rash decision. I need your aid, old friend, Oromis mentally called out to Glaedr.
Glaedr, fully aware of what his Rider intended, melded their minds together. As one, they cast their minds toward Palancar Valley, seeking out the dragon hatchling, careful to avoid alerting the new Rider to their presence. The hatchling was too young to truly communicate, but they were able to glean enough from her mind to know the new Rider was at least on their side. Relieved, they withdrew back into their separate bodies.
The new Rider may have been an ally, but their unexplained knowledge warranted more frequent monitoring. Oromis retrieved an old mirror that had been used before the fall to allow Riders to communicate from afar, and cast a permanent scrying spell on it focused on the new Rider.
Several days passed with nothing happening. Brom's son seemed to be making no progress with his magic, though his swordsmanship was improving faster than Oromis expected with the training method being used. It pleased him when the boy sent his young dragon away before she could be discovered. What happened in the following hours, however, utterly horrified Oromis.
He watched, stunned, as the new Rider appeared to engage one of the men in mental combat. The boy easily won the encounter, but looked to be lost in his enemy's mind. Oromis clenched his fists. The boy was making no move to defend himself! He was going to die before ever having a chance to grow strong enough to defeat the Black King!
Oromis prepared to cast out his own mind to save the boy himself when he jolted back into awareness. A look of panic came over the boy's face as he realized that he was about to die. Then, he cried out in clear desperation. The mirror didn't carry any sound, so Oromis wasn't sure what was said.
It was what happened next that horrified Oromis. Everyone other than the new Rider suddenly started dropping dead. Birds dropped from the sky, and animals collapsed to the ground. His eyes widened when he realized what had happened. The new Rider, purely on instinct, had latched onto the life around him in an effort to avoid killing himself with a poorly cast spell.
Sickened at the massive loss of life, Oromis threw a sheet over his scrying mirror. He would resume watching the boy the next day. Are we doomed to replace one monster with another? he wondered.
The boy is no monster, Gleadr rumbled in response. You were too focused on what was happening to look at him. He was horrified at what was happening. The Black King would have been gleeful in that situation. Glaedr's response eased his troubled mind, though he still had concerns about how the boy knew about magic. He decided to adopt a 'wait and see' approach and judge the boy's character when they eventually met.
I awoke with a start the next morning, still not used to actually sleeping. The familiar warmth nuzzled into my side quickly calmed my racing heart. Saphira had found her way through the storm and into my tent. Once I was fully calm, I noticed some more rune boxes at the edge of my vision. I must have missed them the night before.
Skill gained!
Magecraft (Active) [Lv 1/100]
You have gained the ability to do magic! While your knowledge is extensive, your body must grow used to channeling your power to take full advantage of this skill.
Passively increases Int by 1%.
Magecraft has leveled up! [1 - 4]
Magecraft (Active) [Lv 4/100]
You have gained the ability to do magic! While your knowledge is extensive, your body must grow used to channeling your power to take full advantage of this skill.
Passively increases Int by 4%.
Skill gained!
Energy Transference (Active) [Lv 1/25]
You have rediscovered the ability to transfer energy between living things and/or objects. At higher levels, less energy will be wasted in the transfer.
Current wasted energy: 50%.
Energy Transference has leveled up! [1 - 5]
Energy Transference (Active) [Lv 5/25]
You have rediscovered the ability to transfer energy between living things and/or objects. At higher levels, less energy will be wasted in the transfer.
Current wasted energy: 42%.
Name: Eragon Bromsson
Age: 15 (Mental Age 17)
Title: The Gamer, Dragon Rider [+2 to all stats each level]
Level: 7
Exp: 8392
Class: Ranger (4/100) [+4 Dex each level], Warrior (3/100) [+2 Str & Con each level]
Race: Human [+1 to all stats each level]
Alignment: Neutral Good
Tier: Mortal
HP: 805/805
HPR: 175/min
MP: 1596/1596
MPR: 32.9/min
SP: 920.5/920.5
SPR: 29.05/min
Str: 36 (37.44)
Dex: 50 (110)
Int: 35 (36.4)
Wis: 35
Cha: 30
Con: 40
Lck: 30
Tears began to fall from my eyes. The boxes, and their proof of my improvement, had reminded me of all the innocent life that had been lost due to my carelessness.
Eragon don't be stupid. I jolted out of my bout of self loathing. I thought I had been imagining things when I heard Saphira the previous night. Joy filled my heart that that wasn't the case.
What do you mean? If I had been careful, none of them would have died. I protested. It was my actions that had killed them and I couldn't just ignore that.
You couldn't possibly have known that a simple fire spell would go awry in such a manner. Your sword shouldn't even exist yet. So, Stop. Blaming. Yourself.
I had to concede that she had a point. That may be true, but it was my carelessness that made me need to use magic in the first place. If I hadn't reached out with my mind, Caleb would never have attacked me.
Saphira retorted, And if you hadn't done so, your home may have suffered for it.
I scrunched my brow in confusion. What do you mean by that?
That man was a servant of the Black King. He could very well be the reason the Ra'zac came to Carvahal last time.
My eyes widened. I hadn't thought of that, but she was right. I would always mourn the needless loss of life, but I could not continue to blame myself for events beyond my control.
I sat with Saphira for a while, simply enjoying her presence, before something occurred to me. Saphira, how are you. . . I trailed off, not sure how to word my question.
Little One, we are bound together. Did you really think your magic would ever separate us? When you came back, so did I. I could feel the amusement in her answer.
In my defense, this entire situation is new.
Saphira hummed in agreement. You need to accelerate my growth.
I turned sharply to look at her. What‽ No, it's too dangerous. I'm not willing to risk you.
She growled. You always seem to find trouble, and at my current size I would be of little help to you. I opened my mouth to protest, but Saphira continued, Do not deny what you know is true. You are actively seeking trouble this time. You know Arya is with that Shade, and yet you are determined to go after her. You are no longer strong enough to do this on your own, so let me help you.
I sat in silence, contemplating Saphira's argument. Eventually, I sighed. Very well.
Saphira sent a sense of smug satisfaction across our bond. Let us start now.
What? Why now? I protested.
Saphira responded dryly, We have nothing else to do while we wait out this storm. I refuse to allow my Rider to laze about when he can be doing something productive.
I can practice with my magic or Brisingr— Brisingr burst into flame where it was lying, cutting off my response. I cut off the flow of energy with a curse.
Eragon, stop stalling. We both know that you cannot spend the entire time on that. Sapira snapped.
I sighed in defeat. Very well. We'll need to figure out how to word the spell, and you'll need to provide the energy. She hummed in acceptance.
We spent the next few hours figuring out the details. I decided to sing the spell, similar to how the elves perform most of their larger magic. Saphira wanted me to sing it until we were drained, but I managed to convince her that once a day would be enough. Gilead was still months of travel away, so she should have grown plenty by then.
I gulped nervously. The only more intricate spell that I had ever cast was when I healed Elain's daughter, Hope's, cleft lip. I sat with my back against one of the tent posts, and Saphira curled up next to me. We joined minds, sharing our energy, and I sang.
I watched, transfixed, as Saphira slowly grew throughout the spell. I lost track of time while singing, but I was shocked by how much she grew. When I started she was the size of an average dog, her shoulders just reaching my knee when we stood together. When I finished singing, she had easily doubled in size.
Magecraft has leveled up! [4 - 6]
Magecraft (Active) [Lv 6/100]
You have gained the ability to do magic! While your knowledge is extensive, your body must grow used to channeling your power to take full advantage of this skill.
Passively increases Int by 6%.
Skill created!
Spellcrafting (Active) [Lv 1/100]
This is your ability to string words together to make new spells. Higher levels allow you to do more with less words.
Passively increases Wis by 1%.
Due to experience from your previous life, Spellcrafting has leveled up! [1 - 10]
Spellcrafting (Active) [Lv 10/100]
This is your ability to string words together to make new spells. Higher levels allow you to do more with less words.
Passively increases Wis by 20%.
She wasn't large enough to ride yet, but it appeared that she would be by the time the storm was over. While I had been reluctant to do it, I was looking forward to flying with her again.
Betad/Co-authored by Morde24, with help from Mand'alor.
You can join me in the Omniverse via the link in my profile.
moontheir4
Nothing to see here. Move along.
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Threadmarks seem to be out of order. "170 people, 984 animals" really feels like it should be worth more than three levels lol.
mrttao
Gone for Good
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Well, having a canon character instead of an SI or OC is interesting (assuming he does not turn to canon in name only).
wait... isn't canon eragon a vegan hippie who refuses to kill animals?
Too much infodump though
wait... isn't canon eragon a vegan hippie who refuses to kill animals?
Too much infodump though
... why did he suddenly ignore the notifications while all he was doing was walking for hours?
Last edited:
Ashenerden
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Just number the chapters IMO, I can't seem to be sure of where to start.
Mythology216
Getting out there.
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You're not wrong, and if he had been intentionally killing that much he would definitely have gotten more. The exp was reduced because it was accidental (and because I don't want him too OP too fast).
Mythology216
Getting out there.
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He did have a period where that was true, but he decided after killing the Ra'zac that the elves' policy was going too far.
The infodump is kinda unavoidable in a gamer fic.
I was trying to showcase how unfamiliar he was with the concept of The Gamer. He was ignoring them because he didn't fully understand what was going on (he still doesn't).
Mythology216
Getting out there.
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Thank you. I'm new to QQ so it took me a bit to figure it out, but the Threadmarks should be fixed now
mrttao
Gone for Good
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I meant that even for a gamer fic it is very info dump heavy. Especially the first chapter
There is an excessively detailed tutorial.
And training is done like so
[full description of the skill]
I trained
[level up skill from level 1 to 5]
[full description of the skill]
there is extra repetition there.
I would expect the opposite. That as someone unfamiliar with tech he will be more responsive
I am reminded of my old people yelling at the phone "I am coming, just a minute"
Grimmouse197
Experienced.
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I hate that his sword skill is zero........but it would be suspicious if he got true mastery and the spell to change fate would prevent such mistakes on the systems part.
Mythology216
Getting out there.
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Brom sighed in relief when the blizzard finally ended. The Traders were already late before the storm hit, and he was eager to see his son again. Eragon reminded him so much of himself at a young age. He even looked similar. Luckily, Brom was old and wizened enough that no one in the village was suspicious.
He fingered Aren as he continued to think of his son. It had been a long while since Eragon had come to him with questions, and Brom had been busy when the boy came through Carvahal after his most recent hunt. He had enough energy stored in the ring that it wouldn't hurt to dip into his own reserves to scry his son.
Brom connected to the energy within Aren, looked into a nearby mirror, and whispered, "Draumr kopa." An inky black swirl faded into existence, covering the mirror. Brom clenched his fists, panic blooming within. Something was wrong!
He cut the connection and thought instead of Garrow. "Draumr kopa." The image this time was of Garrow shuffling about his house. Roran entered his view, but Eragon was nowhere to be found.
Brom cut off the spell and grabbed his staff. He needed to find out what happened to his son, and only Garrow would have the answers. The journey was long and tiring; Garrow lived ten miles outside of the village, and the snow had not yet been disturbed. Brom knew he could use magic to make the journey easier, but there was always a chance that someone was watching. He would rather not be discovered after more than 15 years of hiding simply because he was a bit impatient.
Eventually, Garrow's farm came into view. Brom picked up his pace as best he could and finally reached the door. He used his staff to knock impatiently and composed himself while waiting for Garrow to answer.
"Who's there?" Garrow asked cautiously, not willing to let just any stranger in.
Brom didn't have the patience for pleasantries. "Where is Eragon?"
"Brom? Why are you here asking about my nephew?" Confusion and suspicion now colored Garrow's voice.
"Why I'm here isn't important, you old fool! Just tell me where Eragon is?"
His rapidly waning patience must have been apparent in his voice. Garrow opened the door and gestured for Brom to come in. "Eragon isn't here. He left to find news of his mother nearly a fortnight ago."
Brom froze midstep, his mind racing. His son had left to find Selena. She was Morzan's Black Hand, so anyone asking about her would draw the attention of Galbatorix. Eragon was in danger. He abruptly turned and sprinted away from the farm. He needed to collect his things and start after his son before something terrible happened.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. In his panic Brom didn't bother avoiding the use of magic, so he arrived back home in only a fraction of the time. He hurriedly gathered what belongings he couldn't part with, making sure to grab Morzan's blade on the way out the door.
The journey back to Carvahal had allowed him to somewhat regain control over himself, so he wasn't quite sprinting when he left again. Horst and other men called out to him, but they were summarily ignored. He was single minded in his mission: find and, if needed, rescue Eragon.
The next fortnight of travel was largely uneventful. He would rise before dawn and walk well into the night, eating as he walked, in an attempt to close the lead his son had on him. Before bedding down each night he would attempt to scry Eragon, in the vain hope that whatever wards were blocking him had been dropped.
Late in the fifteenth day of his journey, Brom noticed a mass on the horizon. With the snow slowing him down, he hadn't traveled far enough to see Therinsford yet. With that in mind, he could only assume it was a large camp. The only group with any reason to travel to Carvahal were the Traders. Brom quickened his pace, growing eager: perhaps they had crossed paths with his son and would have news for him.
The blasted snow slowed him enough that night fell long before he reached the camp. Grumbling, he went about setting his own camp. Before sleep claimed him he set up all that he needed for one more attempt to scry Eragon. He no longer had hope for success, but refused to stop trying. "Draumr kopa," he intoned. The water in his scrying bowl stilled and filled with the familiar darkness. Brom's shoulders sagged at another failure. He released the spell and allowed himself to drift off.
Brom was still a good distance from the camp but he should have been able to hear something. Instead, an eerie silence filled the air. He placed a hand on Zar'roc and opened his mind, ready for any threat that may have been waiting for him. His brow furrowed. He wasn't feeling anything nearby, but that shouldn't have been possible. Even the most desolate areas were teeming with life.
Brom quickened his pace. He needed to find out what had happened. Finally, he reached the camp. As expected, there was no one around. Before he could begin to investigate, Brom noticed a large mound near the center of the camp. He decided to begin his investigation there.
It quickly became apparent what the mound was: a mass grave. Someone, or something, had slaughtered the group that had been there. A pit began to form in his gut. He rushed to the grave, hoping there was an inscription that may allay his fears.
What he saw instead brought Brom to his knees. The earth and snow in the center of the camp had been torn up in an intimately familiar way. A dragon had been in the camp. Oromis-elda would never have left the safety of Du Weldenvarden, and Galbatorix hadn't left Uru'baen in decades.
Brom only knew of two other dragons in all of Alagaesia. One of their Riders had killed his son. He was shaking, tears falling freely down his face. He cursed Galbatorix and his Forsworn. They had taken everything from him. First they had taken his best friend, corrupting him into something unrecognizable and now they had taken his son.
He remembered training with Morzan under Oromis-elda. It was no secret that he idolized the older boy. He came from the isolated village of Kuasta, whereas Morzan grew up in Ilirea itself. His family were simple; the men had always been trappers disappearing into the Spine for months at a time. Morzan's family had been among the nobility of Alagaesia.
Brom had considered himself lucky that Morzan entertained his friendship at all, and they were friends by the end of their training. That was what made Morzan's betrayal hurt so much.
A young Brom was sitting in an alcove, eagerly waiting for Morzan. They had recently finished their training and received their blades, Zar'roc and Undbitr, and were preparing to explore Alageasia together. He sat there for hours, knowing that whatever held Morzan up had to have been important.
He must have dozed off, as the next he knew Oromis was shaking him awake. "Ebrithil, what are you doing here? Where's Morzan?" Oromis held up a hand to stop the deluge of questions, a look of deep sadness on his face.
"Morzan has betrayed us," Oromis began.
"No. Morzan would never—" Brom tried to correct what had to be a terrible misunderstanding.
"Be silent," Oromis scolded him. "As I was saying, Morzan has betrayed the Order. Last night he snuck Galbatorix into the city. They killed a new Rider and stole his dragon."
Brom was trembling. "It can't be. How can you be sure it was him?"
"He was seen fleeing with Galbatorix. I'm sorry, Brom, but he is lost to us."
The memory faded. The pain from that betrayal came back, only compounding what he was feeling. More memories of the losses he had suffered flashed through his mind. He had not fully believed Morzan's betrayal until his former friend drove his sword through Saphira's heart. He took small comfort that he would never have to feel that pain again.
Thud.
Lost in memories of all he had lost, Brom didn't hear anything at first.
Thud.
He was jolted out of his thoughts. A dragon was flying nearby.
Thud.
He looked to the sky, now aware that the one responsible was still near. He shoved his grief to the side, rage rushing to replace it.
Thud.
He finally spotted his quarry. A vibrant purple dragon was rapidly approaching him. He knew that dragon. More importantly, he knew her Rider. "Kuvira," Brom said quietly, "You will pay for this." He dipped into Aren and snarled, "Kveykva!" Storm clouds began to rapidly gather overhead, thunder rumbling ominously. Kuvira noticed the sudden storm and began her descent.
The smell of lightning filled the air as a massive bolt shot out of the clouds directly at the approaching Forsworn. The accompanying thunder made the ground shake beneath Brom. "Blast!" he cursed when the lightning bolt stopped dead before ever touching Kuvira or her dragon.
Brom released his control over the spell and stood, drawing Zar'roc in preparation for the fight of his life. Without his direction, nature took control over the storm. The clouds rapidly expanded to cover the sky as freezing rain began to fall. Lightning continued to flash overhead, occasionally arcing down to the ground.
Kuvira's dragon chose to land directly in front of him, leaning down to glare at him with one gigantic violet eye. He stared back, unflinching. The beast before him was no longer a true dragon, just a beast good only for intimidation and transport. Distracted as he was by the dragon, he still did not miss Kuvira dismounting.
As an elf, Kuvira had always been beautiful. Her time away from her people had not diminished that at all. Long, silver hair flowed freely down her back. Her eyes, that had once been a captivating green, had been altered to a striking purple to match her dragon.
A lesser man would have dropped his guard, but Brom was too incensed to be distracted, though. He leveled Zar'roc at her and growled, "You have a lot of nerve, returning here after what you've done."
Kuvira beamed back at him. "Brom my love! It's so good to see you again. I take it that you haven't come to your senses yet?" She ignored the sword pointed at her throat and moved forward as though to embrace him.
Brom allowed her to step closer, a plan forming in his mind. When she was close enough, he would thrust. There was no way for her to dodge; she was too close. Her sword was still sheathed, so she couldn't block either.
Or so Brom thought. Faster than he could comprehend, she was gone. He froze at the touch of cold steel to the back of his neck.
Kuvira whispered in his ear, "Is that any way to treat your future wife." The sword was gone, and she was standing before him again. Her sword, a brilliant purple estoc, was pointed at him, but he dared not move. He had already made the horrible mistake of underestimating an elf. He would not do so again.
Kuvira suddenly straightened, a smile returning to her face. "How about a wager, my love? We duel, and the loser has to join the winner's side?" She stared at him expectantly.
"You truly are a fool if you think I'll ever join you," Brom said in response. "You'll have to kill me."
The smile fell from Kuvira's face. She snarled, "You will join me, even if I have to cripple you."
Then she moved. It wasn't as fast as before, but it was still all Brom could do to defend. Their swords rang out as they clashed, echoing the thunder overhead. With every parried thrust his bones felt ready to shatter, and he stepped back. Soon, cuts began opening; on his arms, on his legs, and even on his face.
Desperate, he turned to magic once again. "Thrysta!" The air compressed between them and shot forward, striking Kuvira in the gut. She doubled over, momentarily unable to breathe, granting him some much needed space.
Brom knew there was no winning for him, but before he could formulate an escape plan Kuvira was back with a vengeance. She didn't give him another chance to defend himself. She grabbed the hand holding Zar'roc and squeezed, utterly shattering it. He grunted in pain as Zar'roc fell to the ground. Kuvira kicked it across the camp. She gripped his neck and lifted him into the air.
"Look at you, a mere shadow of yourself," Kuvira taunted. "I should just kill you now and. . ." Her voice faded out. Brom's attention was elsewhere. Strapped to her saddlebags was a sword he would recognize anywhere. It was a brilliant blue, the same shade of his Saphira's scales. He had thought Undbitr, his own Rider's blade, had been lost on Vroengard. Kuvira must have claimed it in a twisted gesture of affection.
Her voice faded back in, much gentler than before. ". . . kill you. I expect you to regain your former strength, my love. My husband cannot be seen as weak, after all." With that, she dropped him. She turned to leave but paused. "Here's something to remind you of your courtesies." Swift as a snake, she stabbed her blade into one of his shoulders, causing him to hiss in discomfort.
Brom waited for her to mount her dragon. Just as she took off, he whispered, "Losna pömnuria sverd." The straps holding Undbitr to Kuvira's saddle snapped and the sword fell to the ground. Brom held his breath, but she didn't appear to have noticed.
When Kuvira was finally out of sight, Brom pulled himself back to his feet. He dipped into Aren once again and uttered one of the many healing spells on his hand. He would never get used to the sensation of bones moving themselves back to their proper positions. It itched like ants crawling under his skin. It wasn't exactly painful, but certainly uncomfortable.
With his hand healed he limped to where Undbitr had fallen and retrieved it. He cradled it to his chest like a loved one as he retrieved Zar'roc. Exhausted as he was, Brom knew he couldn't stop and rest. He had to put some distance between himself and the camp in case Kuvira came back looking for Undbitr. The Spine would make a good hiding place while he healed. Then he could go to Oromis for advice.
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He fingered Aren as he continued to think of his son. It had been a long while since Eragon had come to him with questions, and Brom had been busy when the boy came through Carvahal after his most recent hunt. He had enough energy stored in the ring that it wouldn't hurt to dip into his own reserves to scry his son.
Brom connected to the energy within Aren, looked into a nearby mirror, and whispered, "Draumr kopa." An inky black swirl faded into existence, covering the mirror. Brom clenched his fists, panic blooming within. Something was wrong!
He cut the connection and thought instead of Garrow. "Draumr kopa." The image this time was of Garrow shuffling about his house. Roran entered his view, but Eragon was nowhere to be found.
Brom cut off the spell and grabbed his staff. He needed to find out what happened to his son, and only Garrow would have the answers. The journey was long and tiring; Garrow lived ten miles outside of the village, and the snow had not yet been disturbed. Brom knew he could use magic to make the journey easier, but there was always a chance that someone was watching. He would rather not be discovered after more than 15 years of hiding simply because he was a bit impatient.
Eventually, Garrow's farm came into view. Brom picked up his pace as best he could and finally reached the door. He used his staff to knock impatiently and composed himself while waiting for Garrow to answer.
"Who's there?" Garrow asked cautiously, not willing to let just any stranger in.
Brom didn't have the patience for pleasantries. "Where is Eragon?"
"Brom? Why are you here asking about my nephew?" Confusion and suspicion now colored Garrow's voice.
"Why I'm here isn't important, you old fool! Just tell me where Eragon is?"
His rapidly waning patience must have been apparent in his voice. Garrow opened the door and gestured for Brom to come in. "Eragon isn't here. He left to find news of his mother nearly a fortnight ago."
Brom froze midstep, his mind racing. His son had left to find Selena. She was Morzan's Black Hand, so anyone asking about her would draw the attention of Galbatorix. Eragon was in danger. He abruptly turned and sprinted away from the farm. He needed to collect his things and start after his son before something terrible happened.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. In his panic Brom didn't bother avoiding the use of magic, so he arrived back home in only a fraction of the time. He hurriedly gathered what belongings he couldn't part with, making sure to grab Morzan's blade on the way out the door.
The journey back to Carvahal had allowed him to somewhat regain control over himself, so he wasn't quite sprinting when he left again. Horst and other men called out to him, but they were summarily ignored. He was single minded in his mission: find and, if needed, rescue Eragon.
The next fortnight of travel was largely uneventful. He would rise before dawn and walk well into the night, eating as he walked, in an attempt to close the lead his son had on him. Before bedding down each night he would attempt to scry Eragon, in the vain hope that whatever wards were blocking him had been dropped.
Late in the fifteenth day of his journey, Brom noticed a mass on the horizon. With the snow slowing him down, he hadn't traveled far enough to see Therinsford yet. With that in mind, he could only assume it was a large camp. The only group with any reason to travel to Carvahal were the Traders. Brom quickened his pace, growing eager: perhaps they had crossed paths with his son and would have news for him.
The blasted snow slowed him enough that night fell long before he reached the camp. Grumbling, he went about setting his own camp. Before sleep claimed him he set up all that he needed for one more attempt to scry Eragon. He no longer had hope for success, but refused to stop trying. "Draumr kopa," he intoned. The water in his scrying bowl stilled and filled with the familiar darkness. Brom's shoulders sagged at another failure. He released the spell and allowed himself to drift off.
--------------------------
Something was terribly wrong. Brom was still a good distance from the camp but he should have been able to hear something. Instead, an eerie silence filled the air. He placed a hand on Zar'roc and opened his mind, ready for any threat that may have been waiting for him. His brow furrowed. He wasn't feeling anything nearby, but that shouldn't have been possible. Even the most desolate areas were teeming with life.
Brom quickened his pace. He needed to find out what had happened. Finally, he reached the camp. As expected, there was no one around. Before he could begin to investigate, Brom noticed a large mound near the center of the camp. He decided to begin his investigation there.
It quickly became apparent what the mound was: a mass grave. Someone, or something, had slaughtered the group that had been there. A pit began to form in his gut. He rushed to the grave, hoping there was an inscription that may allay his fears.
What he saw instead brought Brom to his knees. The earth and snow in the center of the camp had been torn up in an intimately familiar way. A dragon had been in the camp. Oromis-elda would never have left the safety of Du Weldenvarden, and Galbatorix hadn't left Uru'baen in decades.
Brom only knew of two other dragons in all of Alagaesia. One of their Riders had killed his son. He was shaking, tears falling freely down his face. He cursed Galbatorix and his Forsworn. They had taken everything from him. First they had taken his best friend, corrupting him into something unrecognizable and now they had taken his son.
He remembered training with Morzan under Oromis-elda. It was no secret that he idolized the older boy. He came from the isolated village of Kuasta, whereas Morzan grew up in Ilirea itself. His family were simple; the men had always been trappers disappearing into the Spine for months at a time. Morzan's family had been among the nobility of Alagaesia.
Brom had considered himself lucky that Morzan entertained his friendship at all, and they were friends by the end of their training. That was what made Morzan's betrayal hurt so much.
A young Brom was sitting in an alcove, eagerly waiting for Morzan. They had recently finished their training and received their blades, Zar'roc and Undbitr, and were preparing to explore Alageasia together. He sat there for hours, knowing that whatever held Morzan up had to have been important.
He must have dozed off, as the next he knew Oromis was shaking him awake. "Ebrithil, what are you doing here? Where's Morzan?" Oromis held up a hand to stop the deluge of questions, a look of deep sadness on his face.
"Morzan has betrayed us," Oromis began.
"No. Morzan would never—" Brom tried to correct what had to be a terrible misunderstanding.
"Be silent," Oromis scolded him. "As I was saying, Morzan has betrayed the Order. Last night he snuck Galbatorix into the city. They killed a new Rider and stole his dragon."
Brom was trembling. "It can't be. How can you be sure it was him?"
"He was seen fleeing with Galbatorix. I'm sorry, Brom, but he is lost to us."
The memory faded. The pain from that betrayal came back, only compounding what he was feeling. More memories of the losses he had suffered flashed through his mind. He had not fully believed Morzan's betrayal until his former friend drove his sword through Saphira's heart. He took small comfort that he would never have to feel that pain again.
Thud.
Lost in memories of all he had lost, Brom didn't hear anything at first.
Thud.
He was jolted out of his thoughts. A dragon was flying nearby.
Thud.
He looked to the sky, now aware that the one responsible was still near. He shoved his grief to the side, rage rushing to replace it.
Thud.
He finally spotted his quarry. A vibrant purple dragon was rapidly approaching him. He knew that dragon. More importantly, he knew her Rider. "Kuvira," Brom said quietly, "You will pay for this." He dipped into Aren and snarled, "Kveykva!" Storm clouds began to rapidly gather overhead, thunder rumbling ominously. Kuvira noticed the sudden storm and began her descent.
The smell of lightning filled the air as a massive bolt shot out of the clouds directly at the approaching Forsworn. The accompanying thunder made the ground shake beneath Brom. "Blast!" he cursed when the lightning bolt stopped dead before ever touching Kuvira or her dragon.
Brom released his control over the spell and stood, drawing Zar'roc in preparation for the fight of his life. Without his direction, nature took control over the storm. The clouds rapidly expanded to cover the sky as freezing rain began to fall. Lightning continued to flash overhead, occasionally arcing down to the ground.
Kuvira's dragon chose to land directly in front of him, leaning down to glare at him with one gigantic violet eye. He stared back, unflinching. The beast before him was no longer a true dragon, just a beast good only for intimidation and transport. Distracted as he was by the dragon, he still did not miss Kuvira dismounting.
As an elf, Kuvira had always been beautiful. Her time away from her people had not diminished that at all. Long, silver hair flowed freely down her back. Her eyes, that had once been a captivating green, had been altered to a striking purple to match her dragon.
A lesser man would have dropped his guard, but Brom was too incensed to be distracted, though. He leveled Zar'roc at her and growled, "You have a lot of nerve, returning here after what you've done."
Kuvira beamed back at him. "Brom my love! It's so good to see you again. I take it that you haven't come to your senses yet?" She ignored the sword pointed at her throat and moved forward as though to embrace him.
Brom allowed her to step closer, a plan forming in his mind. When she was close enough, he would thrust. There was no way for her to dodge; she was too close. Her sword was still sheathed, so she couldn't block either.
Or so Brom thought. Faster than he could comprehend, she was gone. He froze at the touch of cold steel to the back of his neck.
Kuvira whispered in his ear, "Is that any way to treat your future wife." The sword was gone, and she was standing before him again. Her sword, a brilliant purple estoc, was pointed at him, but he dared not move. He had already made the horrible mistake of underestimating an elf. He would not do so again.
Kuvira suddenly straightened, a smile returning to her face. "How about a wager, my love? We duel, and the loser has to join the winner's side?" She stared at him expectantly.
"You truly are a fool if you think I'll ever join you," Brom said in response. "You'll have to kill me."
The smile fell from Kuvira's face. She snarled, "You will join me, even if I have to cripple you."
Then she moved. It wasn't as fast as before, but it was still all Brom could do to defend. Their swords rang out as they clashed, echoing the thunder overhead. With every parried thrust his bones felt ready to shatter, and he stepped back. Soon, cuts began opening; on his arms, on his legs, and even on his face.
Desperate, he turned to magic once again. "Thrysta!" The air compressed between them and shot forward, striking Kuvira in the gut. She doubled over, momentarily unable to breathe, granting him some much needed space.
Brom knew there was no winning for him, but before he could formulate an escape plan Kuvira was back with a vengeance. She didn't give him another chance to defend himself. She grabbed the hand holding Zar'roc and squeezed, utterly shattering it. He grunted in pain as Zar'roc fell to the ground. Kuvira kicked it across the camp. She gripped his neck and lifted him into the air.
"Look at you, a mere shadow of yourself," Kuvira taunted. "I should just kill you now and. . ." Her voice faded out. Brom's attention was elsewhere. Strapped to her saddlebags was a sword he would recognize anywhere. It was a brilliant blue, the same shade of his Saphira's scales. He had thought Undbitr, his own Rider's blade, had been lost on Vroengard. Kuvira must have claimed it in a twisted gesture of affection.
Her voice faded back in, much gentler than before. ". . . kill you. I expect you to regain your former strength, my love. My husband cannot be seen as weak, after all." With that, she dropped him. She turned to leave but paused. "Here's something to remind you of your courtesies." Swift as a snake, she stabbed her blade into one of his shoulders, causing him to hiss in discomfort.
Brom waited for her to mount her dragon. Just as she took off, he whispered, "Losna pömnuria sverd." The straps holding Undbitr to Kuvira's saddle snapped and the sword fell to the ground. Brom held his breath, but she didn't appear to have noticed.
When Kuvira was finally out of sight, Brom pulled himself back to his feet. He dipped into Aren once again and uttered one of the many healing spells on his hand. He would never get used to the sensation of bones moving themselves back to their proper positions. It itched like ants crawling under his skin. It wasn't exactly painful, but certainly uncomfortable.
With his hand healed he limped to where Undbitr had fallen and retrieved it. He cradled it to his chest like a loved one as he retrieved Zar'roc. Exhausted as he was, Brom knew he couldn't stop and rest. He had to put some distance between himself and the camp in case Kuvira came back looking for Undbitr. The Spine would make a good hiding place while he healed. Then he could go to Oromis for advice.
--------------------------
Beta'd/Co-authored by Morde24 and Mand'alor.You can join me in the Omniverse via the link in my profile.
Grimmouse197
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Well that's a new twist......well done
mrttao
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wait what? did brom also name his dragon saphira by coincidence?
irontony9065
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Broms dragon was named Saphira. Brom gave it as the last example of Dragon names when Eragon asked what some of them were.
Brom was very surprised to find a new dragon named Saphira.
Kuvira
Mythology216
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HatoYin
HatoYin changed his name to Citos
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More than doulbling of stat and he did t feel a thing?
Mythology216
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That would be spoilers. Though, if you read closely the answer is in the chapter.
Grimmouse197
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The forced (voluntary) growth of his dragon is going to cause Sooo much misunderstanding
MentalForge
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Not coincidence, Brom told Eragon the name Saphira when he was asking about dragon names.
Ocean Breeze
Not too sore, are you?
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I love Inheritance Cycle and I love good Gamer fics, so I think I'll love this. I don't think I've ever read a good Inheritance Cycle fanfic, and I'm not so crazy about some aspects of how you've set up the System, but I have high hopes of loving this, so I look forward.
On that note, if anybody reading this has any recommendations for good IC fanfics, I'd love to hear about them. Thanks in advance.
On that note, if anybody reading this has any recommendations for good IC fanfics, I'd love to hear about them. Thanks in advance.
Ocean Breeze
Not too sore, are you?
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Not a fan at all about how you had him leave. That was way too sudden and everyone was way too accepting. I don't think that was very realistic. Other than that though, I enjoyed the chapter.
Ocean Breeze
Not too sore, are you?
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Why haven't magecraft and swordmanship "gained experience from past life?"
Ocean Breeze
Not too sore, are you?
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Who's Kuvira?