Eragon / Eldest / Brisingr / Inheritance (The Inheritance Cycle #1-4)

by Christopher Paolini

Away, away, you shall fly away, O’er the peaks and vales To the lands beyond. Away, away, you shall fly away, And never return to me.…

WYRDA!!

Du Vrangr Gata—their very name betrays their ignorance. Properly, in the ancient language, it should be Du Gata Vrangr.

Well my have the turns tabled lol

And I wish I did,

Oh sweetie.... you are about to find out....

He no longer harbored any desire to be acquainted with his father, but

Oh but sweetie, you have no idea

son of a Rider,

Yes

one of the Forsworn.

No

Even Brom and Oromis are more my father than Morzan.

This is more true than you know

You realize, don’t you, that Brom must have known about this. Why else would he choose to hide in Carvahall while he waited for you to hatch?

I know i know i know!

leaving her standing almost naked in her white chemise.

I think she could have left the corset on. The beline or whatever was used for the structure could have added protection

thought, but I always settle my debts.

Oh you silly lanister.... wait.... wrong series. Lol

it seems to me that Brom must have discovered something in Gil’ead when he was fighting Morzan and his dragon, something so momentous, it moved Brom to abandon everything that was his life up until then.

Maybe something like a SECRET CHILD mayhaps?

Eragon could not accept that both his parents had been evil.

Just you wait, just you wait.....

Books should go where they will be most appreciated, and not sit unread, gathering dust on a forgotten shelf, don’t you agree?”

He says as my shiny copy of Jane Eyre sits off by it's lonesome.... I plan to read that after Brisingr since Inheritance is in my Alphabet 2022 challenge.

“Are not all religions strange to those who stand outside of them?”

See Scythe trilogy by Neal Shusterman. Prime example of this.

I own a book, he thought, delighted. He set off at a trot, clasping the book against his chest,

“Finding the right sword for someone is an art unto itself. A sword should feel like an extension of your arm, as if it had grown out of your very flesh.

This must be ollivander's cousin

Fredric brought Eragon a weapon he identified as a falchion. It was a sword, but not a type of sword Eragon was accustomed to, although he had seen them among the Varden before. The falchion had a polished, disk-shaped pommel, bright as a silver coin; a short grip made of wood covered with black leather; a curved crossguard carved with a line of dwarf runes; and a single-edged blade that was as long as his outstretched arm and had a thin fuller on either side, close to the spine. The falchion was straight until about six inches from the end, where the back of the blade flared upward in a small peak before gently curving down to the needle-sharp tip. This widening of the blade reduced the likelihood that the point would bend or snap when driven through armor and lent the end of the falchion a fanglike appearance. Unlike a double-edged sword, the falchion was made to be held with the blade and crossguard perpendicular to the ground. The most curious aspect of the falchion, though, was the bottom half inch of the blade, including the edge, which was pearly gray and substantially darker than the mirror-smooth steel above. The boundary between the two areas was wavy, like a silk scarf rippling in the wind.

“The thriknzdal,” said Fredric. “The dwarves invented it. They temper the edge and the spine separately. The edge they make hard, harder than we dare with the whole of our blades. The middle of the blade and the spine they anneal so that the back of the falchion is softer than the edge, soft enough to bend and flex and survive the stress of battle without fracturing like a frost-ridden file.”

He glanced down and saw a flap of his boot hanging loose, along with a layer of his skin and muscle.

Ewwwww!!!!

“Where is your father? Where is your mother?”

Dead and Dead lol

Glaedr … release me, Oromis murmured with his mind. A moment later, in an even fainter voice, he whispered, Do not mourn me. And then the partner of Glaedr’s life passed into the void.

😭😭😭😭😭😭

Then Arya pointed at the men with her sword and said, “Brisingr!” and the spear burst into emerald-green fire.

Well damn. He laid it right out in the first damn chapter of Inheritance. A green dragon on the cover and this sentence 😅

“The world is round,” he whispered. “The sky is hollow and the world is round.”

Bruh. When Eragon is smarter than a portion of tbe internet...

If we had enough jewels, and if we stored enough energy in them, do you think we could fly all the way to the moon?

Ah to sleep in a sea of stars.... wait....

He grimaced. “I’m not sure why. It ought to have. Whatever that creature is, it doesn’t fit into the normal pattern of the world.” “Do you know where it’s from?” “No. I only learned of it today, when Galbatorix fetched it from his inner chambers.”

Hmmmm... i wonder if they are alien...

Light … Golden sunbeams streaming across a series of rolling hills patched with fields and vineyards. She was standing by the edge of a small courtyard, underneath a trellis laden with blooming morning glories, the vines of which seemed uncomfortably familiar. She was wearing a beautiful yellow dress. There was a crystal goblet of wine in her right hand and the musky, cherry taste of wine upon her tongue. A slight breeze was blowing from the west. The air smelled of warmth and comfort and freshly tilled land. “Ah, there you are,” said a voice behind her, and she turned to see Murtagh striding toward her from a grand estate. Like her, he held a goblet of wine. He was dressed in black hose and a doublet of maroon satin trimmed with gold piping. A gem-encrusted dagger hung from his studded belt. His hair was longer than she remembered, and he appeared relaxed and confident in a way she had not seen before. That, and the light upon his face, made him appear strikingly handsome—noble, even. He joined her under the trellis and placed a hand on her bare arm. The gesture seemed casual and intimate. “You minx, abandoning me to Lord Ferros and his interminable stories. It took me half an hour to escape.” Then he paused and looked at her closer, and his expression became one of concern. “Are you feeling ill? Your cheeks look gray.” She opened her mouth, but no words came to her. She could not think how to react. Murtagh’s brow furrowed. “You had another one of your attacks, didn’t yo...