The New Dragon Riders: Du Fyrn Vindr (IC)

[ArchangelUriel]

5 years before the eulogy of Eragon and Saphira...

Steps echoed through the massive halls as Saren Harthsson walked quickly down them, his mind in a whirlwind of thought. Eragon had just left New Vroengard to meet with the wild dragons, and hopeful come to a peaceful agreement. Saren had told the old man that it was hopeless, but Eragon's wisdom was consumed by his will to hope. That wasn't the part that put a knot in Saren's gut though, no that was from the old man appointing Saren the second best, as his successor. It had been done decades ago, but now that Eragon wasn't around, the pressure began to build. Saren told himself that Eragon was still alive, and that all he had to do was keep the place afloat until the rightful Head Rider returned. No matter how proud Saren was, there was no escaping the shadow of the Kingslayer, and so the first hing on his list of Head Rider Duties was to meet the new rookies.

He exited through an arch large enough to fit a thirty foot dragon, into a courtyard that would bewilder the imagination with it's size. In the middle was the statue of three thirty foot dragons, all about seventy five foot long. Saren still didn't know how Eragon pulled that one off. Laying off to the side was Saren's own thirty foot dragon, Dorelreth. The massive dragon open one eye, revealing a silver eye then projecting his thoughts into Saren's mind, Why so mixed, Saren, the dragon's though projected voice boomed.

"Eragon and Saphira left," he could have done a similar though projection but saying it aloud was easier at the moment.

I know small one, Saphira had told me, his voice was so calm it made Saren all the more frantic inside.

"Right, well as you know that leaves this mountain of a keep to me, and well apologies if that's a bit unsettling for someone who doesn't only worry about food, drink and sleeping," Saren tried to hold back the bite in his tone, but he was sure it slipped.

Dorelreth chucked,Don't forget the mating. Saren you must focus you mind likewise, and you will not be as you are.

Saren let out a large exhale, "Very well, I have apprentices to welcome," though he heard a snore from the larger dragon's direction, and sure enough he'd already fallen back asleep. The comedy of it relaxed Saren a bit.

Making his way through the massive city the dragon riders, Saren arrived at the port that the Apprentices were do to arrive at. He stood there trying to focus his mind, and prepare for the tasks to come. The sight of the boat brought the scent of younglings, and something more, he got the sense of the coming of something that put the scale of New Vroengard to shame. He couldn't tell if it was for good , or otherwise, but it was big, and riding on the backs of some of these apprentices. He breathed deep, for it might be the last breath he takes that was not taken short by the weight of the coming storm.

[Roran Hawkins]

Roran smiled as he could see that Saren was troubled. He was very good at hiding his feelings, but Roran noticed anyways. "Yep, it's up to us to guide these younglings through the Tuathu du orithrim. I wonder what races will arrive this time. Urgals, Dwarves Elves or Humans. Maybe even someone like me." Roran said, while walking up towards Saren. His longbow, which he sang himself from a yew tree, was contrary to common Elven tradition worn around his chest instead of inside the quiver. THe Elves mainly used recurve bows and smaller warbows that fitted inside the quivers alongside the arrows, even when strung. His longbow was simply too large for that. "Good morning Bjartskular!" He greeted Dorelreth. His put his hands together behind his back, staring over the far shores where the ship was slowly making its way towards them, jumping over wave after wave. Despite the calm weather the wind had made the waves rear under her touch. Roran didn't feel much of it though, sheltered by the presence of the large buildings around him, where even the largest living dragons could fit in.

[Zukien]

Grimik flew atop the great city, his dragon Verkiris beating her wings with a quiet thump as they began descending upon New Vroengard.

You know, these Riders have not seen you in awhile, stubborn one. Verkiris sent the thoughts into the dwarf's mind. Aye, but they forget what I have been doing. He sent a thought back, remembering his experiences as of late in Farthen Dur.

The great halls of the dwarven city were amassed with many folks, most having been the current residents of the Kingdom. Some were there visiting, as the relations with the Dwarves and the outside world had improved great amounts because of Eragon and Saphira's efforts. However, there were many dwarves that were still opposed to letting outsiders in the Mountain.

Grimik could care less, his small body at the bar, guzzling down ale as usual. Verkiris slept in his dormitory, her body lined with animal bones and carcasses alike. For the past few years, he had been helping the Dwarves of his homeland build themselves up to former glory, the race of like-minded small people all wanting the same thing: to have Farthen Dur be the center of Alagaesia, as it was eons past.

As a diplomat and a fighter, Grimik was always split between decisions. Wanting to solve many problems with the sharp edge of his blades, he often found himself drunk at meetings to calm his nerves. But he was serious when it came down to it, at least, he thought he was. He was known for his crude jokes and making those around him laugh. It was a good quality, but sometimes he went to far and got someone angry, as he did in this time.

An older dwarf by the name of Kromil was sitting next to Grimik, who was talking with the Barkeep.

"Aye, and I told 'im....you know what I tol' 'im?" The Barkeep shook his head, smiling. He was used to Grimik's drinking and crude behavior. "I tol' 'im to shove it!" The Barkeep laughed, having obviously enjoyed the joke. The older dwarf however, turned to Grimik, his face serious.

"Grimik, you are a Dragon Rider! What are ya doin' here in the bar gettin' drunk?" He asked. Grimik turned towards him now, his cheeks slightly rosey.

"Ya ol' coot, I'm here because I am a Dragon Rider!" He laughed, but Kromil just shook his head.

"You were chosen to do a duty, an' if ya can't do it, ya should put away yer saddle."

Grimik got a serious look on his face, his fists curling. "Aye, should I?" he looked away, then turned back. "But who be the one who saved the forces o' Farthen Dur from the attack by the Giants, huh?!" he was livid, getting out of his seat.

THe old dwarf followed suit, getting in Grimik's face. "Aye, ya may have, Grimik, but you still have yet to learn discipline!"

"I will show ya discipline on the backside o' yer rump, ya old fart!" He yelled back. They both were ready to lock fists.

At that moment another dwarf stepped in. "Shur'tugal! New apprentices are comin' in at New Vroengard!" he declared. Grimik stood straight up, turning to him. "Very well."

He turned to Kromil, a smile appearing on his face. "Ol' friend, I must go. We will continya the banter when I return." Kromil smiled back, shaking hands with Grimik. "O' course. Fun chattin' wit ya, Shur'tugal." He put emphasis on the last word, chuckling slightly.

---

You stubborn mule, Verkiris sent to Grimik. You are lucky Kromil is a close friend. Grimik just sighed, not responding back. They landed behind the two Dragon Riders who were currently attending. With a nod, Grimik jumped down off of his Dragon's back. They both approached Roran and Saren, who looked to be talking. With a smile, Grimik interrupted them.

"Lon' time no see! Saren," he addressed the rider. "Roran." he finished addressing them, then turned to Saren's dragon. "My o' my! How you be growin, Dorelreth!" He laughed, patting the neck of Verkiris, who snorted. Grimik rolled his eyes, knowing his Dragon was upset with him for having "fun".

[Raven Rise]

Obscured in shadows and with a ward around him to protect his mind from being detected by other riders, Balthazar watched through Dorgandur's eyes the new apprentices as they arrived one by one at the entrance to New Vroengard. "Letta," Balthazar ordered, and his vision became his own. Dorgandur slowly twisted his neck until he was facing Balthazar and spoke into his mind, "the apprentices look so young, don't they?" Balthazar nodded in agreement and replied, "yes, that they do, but one day, they won't be so young, and when that day comes, they'll be at our throats." Dorgandur hissed softly and replied, "unless we can turn them first." Balthazar had high hopes for the new arrivals. Fresh apprentices hadn't shown up for quite some time now, and it was potentially the last time in years that Balthazar and Dorgandur would get the chance to persuade— or, "Corrupt," as Eragon had called it, Riders into joining the cause of the Elitists. Despite the rumors that flitted around New Vroengard (planted by Balthazar himself, of course) about the massive force the Elitists where building, their numbers were actually dangerously few, with only four Riders currently dedicated to the cause. Persuading at least one apprentice was vital to the Elitists, as without an absolutely massive army, any efforts against Eragon and Saphira would prove futile. They and the Eldunari where too strong... Soon will be the time to act, Balthazar decided.

[Roran Hawkins]

Roran looked up when he saw another dragon approaching in the corners of his eyes, even before he heard the heavy wingbeats. "Hail Grimik, Verkiris. It's been a while!" Roran said, before turning his attention towards the approaching ship again. "I always wonder what the new recruits are like, and what their chosen weapons will be. They better decide faster than me or we'll have to waste a ridiculously large amount of brightsteel." Roran said, while looking in the direction of the smithy, which was hidden, from his view by a large amount of tall buildings. His attention was drawn by the 3 dragon statues again, which never ceased to amaze him. He had seen most of the world during his travels, and not even the Dwarves had ever planted such a feat. The heavy dragons seemed to defy gravity itself, remaining in their place proudly. "Last time we found some it was on the bottom of the Eastern Seas, not far from the coasts of the Beor mountains. It was found embedded in coral." Roran continued, carefully observing the Dwarf for any signs or hints of his mood. He knew coral was seen as a divine in Dwarven mythology, as the Elves called it. The Dwarves thought it was the proof that stone could grow, while a mage could easily recognise the living organisms in the stone-like material. Roran compared it with the mosses of the land. "Well, I guess welcoming them will be as usual? You welcome them, give them a night's rest and then direct them to me for some fun?" Roran asked Saren, while he stretched his back and let his neck roll over his shoulders, clearing any stiffness building up. As he spoke the boat was almost nearing the relatively large pier, ready to moor in. He saw activity bustling out on board, and could already spot some of the smaller dragons on board. It was inevitable that they grew so much even when travelling here. With a grin he reminded how one Dragon had already reached the size of a small pony when it arrived.

[Zukien]

When coral was mentioned, Grimik's eyes flashed. "Aye, coral..." he trailed off, imagining the wonderful rock and how it grew to perfection in it's own artistic way. He shook it off however, when he saw the boat arrive. He grinned, taking out a flask and downing some liquor. "Ah, look 'at we 'ot here!" he exclaimed, jovial that there were Riders aboard.

"Wee 'ittle Riders and their wee 'ittle Dragons!" He laughed, taking another swig. The liquor he was drinking was some of the finest, having been made to instantly hit you the second it is swallowed. Putting the flask away for the moment, Grimik went over to Verkiris. Do 'at we talked 'bout! He exclaimed in thought. She gave a nod, then projected a message:

Welcome Dragon Riders, to New Vroengard, to Alagaesia, and to your new comrades!

The voice was projected as a boom, the roar-like voice of Verkiris reverberating through the city and into the water. Grimik just smiled and clapped. "Ya, 'at a girl!" he yelled, patting his Dragon on the neck, her white scales shining from the sun.

[MULTIMEDIAMAN]

Kyras and Daganth were riding, high above the skies of New Vroengard, watching the ship approach with all of the latest apprentice Riders. Sighing happily, Kyras projected a few thoughts to Daganth. We should probably get down there to greet them, eh? Especially that familiar-looking white dragon. We haven't seen our Dwarven friend in quite a bit, have we?

Calmly, Daganth responded. Quite right you are, Kyras. Shall we impress them, intimidate them, or simply join the others and wait for their arrival?

Mulling this over for a bit, Kyras motioned for Daganth to come astride the ship, and make several turns around and above it. Daganth wasn't particularly agile in the air, however, and these turns were a small margin larger than ones their counterparts would have made. Nonetheless, Daganth made a show of it, breathing out several small blasts of fire. The point was to give the apprentices a goal to reach. Some day, they could be like the Golden Light and his Magnificent dragon, riding through the sky, blinding all others with the sunlight that reflected off of them.

The pair came to a halt above Saren and the others, descending slowly. Once Kyras dismounted Daganth, he walked towards the others. "Why, hello there, Saren, Roran, and Grimik. How are you all?"

Daganth completed the greeting. It was their personal policy for Kyras to greet mortals, and Daganth to greet Dragons. And hello to you, Dorelreth and Verkiris.

[Riaxh]

Grim times lie ahead.
Garret didn't answer. He was standing on the balcony of one of the many sprawling constructions that littered New Vroengard, leaning against a pillar. Down beneath him, he could see Saren, the Acting Head of the Order, descending the steps of the keep at a hurried pace.
I can feel it in my bones. Azalia continued gravely.
Garret shifted in his place. Saren looked worried, even slightly flustered. He shared the Successor's concern. They shouldn't have gone alone, he said finally.
This whole story bothers me. But still, Eragon and Saphira have both faced worse in their time.
He gave a sigh. He knew it was true, but he still couldn't help feeling worried for his old friend and mentor. Far in the distance, he could see a white dragon gradually decsending towards the port, and he thought he recognised Verkiris, with the small figure of Grimik, a rider rarely seen around these parts, across her back. He knew he'd been in Farthen Dur, assisting his race returning to its former affulence. He also knew that underneath his boistrus exterior was a serious and loyal rider, but seeing the Dwarf brought another unsettling issue to the fore of Garret's mind. The order was meant to be impartial, but if it came down to a conflict of loyalties between the riders and the dwarves, how would rider's like Grimik react?. Such ties were inevitable, were true of all races, and something that had always bugged Garret about the Order. It had its flaws.
I Just hope that everyone gets through all this in one piece.
Azalia scoffed. There is always hope. She said warmly, sending him a mental image of an ariel view of the approaching boat with its apprentices.
Ah, they're arriving, that explains all the fuss. He picked himself up off the pillar and headed over to the nearest staircase. Meet me there, will you? he sent the message as he made his way over to the port. He was fully garbed in his armour and black cape. After all, he had to keep up appearances. Azalia joined him just as he was entering the docking area, alighting on the ground with a deep rumble. She lowered her head and peered at him through one of her deep violet eyes. He ran his hand gently across her snout, grateful to be reuinited after her long flight. It was a splendid day. Her pitch black scales, unusually robust and sharp, more like the facets of a gem than anything else, reflected the sunlight like a thousand tiny mirrors.
He gave a wan smile to the others present, greeting them in turn. "Bet you can't wait to get your hands on them" he said, clapping Roran on the shoulder, whilst looking out to examine the vessel, bringing with it what would be the latest generation of Riders.

[ArchangelUriel]

"The new apprentices are due to arrive soon, Vera," Marth said as he raised his shield to block to an incoming downward strike from Vera's staff, who when her staff met the mas's shield with a hard slap, brought up the butt end of her staff into Marth's stomach. The large man stumbled back a few steps.

"We should only worry about finishing our own apprenticeships," the young elf replied plainly, as he jabbed forth with her staff quickly, which met Marth's shield once more.

"I thought you might be curious," he deflected the staff off to the side, and barrel into close range. Vera sidstepped into his peripherals, before he could strike with his hammer.

"There is no person that they could bring to raise my curiosity," she struck the back of Marth's knees, bringing him down to one knee.

"Alright, alright," he raised his hands. "fifteen and you're already kicking my ass back and forth this training ground. Master Eragon did say you had a lot of promise." Thenoro, and Nayenth landed near by, and approached their Riders. "Anyway, I'm going to go see the new Apprentices. Unlike you I do have a natural curiosity."

"You will not," Vera commanded the large man, "you must meditate, as you are supposed to. I don't see why seeing a bunch of younglings will bring you any fulfillment."

Should we tell them, Nayenth asked Thenoro.

And ruin the only chance I get to see Vera surprised, not a chance, the taller dragon responded.

"Tell us what," Marth inquired, but was only given a display of teeth by Nayenth.

---

"Good evening fellow Riders," Saren said not taking his eyes off the incoming boat. "Are any of the Master Riders taking pupils this year, or are we leaving them to Roran...again," Saren said jokingly. Then he felt something brush against his mind, something large and old, a dragon.

Dorgandur, Dorelreth said, only to Saren.

Indeed, sizing up the new apprentices for his own purposes. Keep your eyes sharp Dorelreth,

[Raven Rise]

Balthazar watched as more and more dragons flew in to the shining city, and frowned to himself. "There are many Riders here today," Balthazar thought to Dorgandur. "I should have expected that; apprentices are just as important to them as they are to us." Dorgandur said, "Agreed," and suddenly recoiled, hissing. "What is it?" Balthazar said, alarmed. "I brushed the mind of Saren, Balthazar. Our ward failed!" Balthazar's frown deepened, and then an idea formed. Speaking out loud, he told Dorgandur, "Move your feet, Dorgandur." Dorgandur gave him an odd stare, but moved aside anyways as Balthazar moved over and crouched by the ground. As he scanned Dorgandur's giant footprints, Balthazar found what he was looking for. "Just as I feared... it was a disabling spell." Balthazar picked up the object- a small jem. Whoever laid the trap enchanted the gem so that when it was crushed, it would release the spell, which probably not only disabled cloaking wards, but also defensive wards too. Dorgandur followed his thought process and growled, "I'm sorry that I fell for such a simple trap. What should we do now?" Balthazar stood up, tossing the gem aside, and replied, "It is not your fault, my friend. I would have made the mistake... however, now, we change tactic." Balthazar turned to face New Vroengard, allowing his mind to expand until its senses reached all the way to the shining city, and projected, "Well done, Saren. I see you have expanded your perimeter, but there is no need for alarm; we are merely passing through. Would you be so kind as to allow an old ally to spend the night in New Vroengard?" Although it was in the ancient language, which one could not break, it was technically true. Balthazar was passing through, albeit to try and persuade the apprentices to his side of the Riders, but that didn't matter. Balthazar and Dorgandur awaited Saren's response.