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Literature Text
Eragon was raised without mother or father,
But to him it wasn’t that much of a bother.
He found a stone when in the Spine,
Little did he know that it was a great sign.
But the king got wind of what had become,
And Eragon knew he couldn’t succumb.
The egg soon hatched, and a dragon was born,
He told not his family, for they would have sworn.
The Ra’zac soon came, in search of the pair,
But to their dismay, the two were not there.
Angered, the Ra’zac reeked hell on his house,
While Eragon hid with his friend, like a mouse.
He dug for his uncle, and Saphira helped too,
But, they discovered, there was nothing to do.
With Saphira the dragon, he and Brom fled,
While deep in his heart, the boy mourned for the dead.
The bard taught Eragon things he shouldn’t have known,
If he had been just a storyteller alone.
Brom, he determined, was not as he thought,
But friendships like that, he couldn’t have bought.
They bought horses and raced of to find a safe town,
But search high or low, one couldn’t be found.
Thus, they continued, toward the house of a friend,
And Eragon thought they would be safe, ‘round the bend.
But from a witch he learned things were not as they seemed,
By the time they had left, strange things he had dreamed.
He placed his life in the hands of fate,
Hoping that it would not be too late.
Brom’s death by the Urgals hit Eragon hard,
And he knew, in his heart, he would always be scarred.
He found another friend by the name of Murtagh,
But he wouldn’t let his past out of the bag.
He hated living his manhood on the run,
But what is past cannot be undone.
He took refuge under Saphira’s great wing,
And realized his destiny to overthrow the king.
Through river and desert they ran away from their foe
Toward the mountains, to hide in the snow.
They were captured by evil and put in a cell,
And Eragon thought he was put in hell.
Still, he continued down his trail,
To be rid of the Urgals, but to no avail.
The Urgals had followed them into their den,
Eragon had hoped not to fight them again.
A fierce, bloody fight saw the Urgals undone
Ajihad’s was lost, yet the battle was won.
And now our hero with the Elves goes to dwell
But as of that tale, only Paolini can tell.
But to him it wasn’t that much of a bother.
He found a stone when in the Spine,
Little did he know that it was a great sign.
But the king got wind of what had become,
And Eragon knew he couldn’t succumb.
The egg soon hatched, and a dragon was born,
He told not his family, for they would have sworn.
The Ra’zac soon came, in search of the pair,
But to their dismay, the two were not there.
Angered, the Ra’zac reeked hell on his house,
While Eragon hid with his friend, like a mouse.
He dug for his uncle, and Saphira helped too,
But, they discovered, there was nothing to do.
With Saphira the dragon, he and Brom fled,
While deep in his heart, the boy mourned for the dead.
The bard taught Eragon things he shouldn’t have known,
If he had been just a storyteller alone.
Brom, he determined, was not as he thought,
But friendships like that, he couldn’t have bought.
They bought horses and raced of to find a safe town,
But search high or low, one couldn’t be found.
Thus, they continued, toward the house of a friend,
And Eragon thought they would be safe, ‘round the bend.
But from a witch he learned things were not as they seemed,
By the time they had left, strange things he had dreamed.
He placed his life in the hands of fate,
Hoping that it would not be too late.
Brom’s death by the Urgals hit Eragon hard,
And he knew, in his heart, he would always be scarred.
He found another friend by the name of Murtagh,
But he wouldn’t let his past out of the bag.
He hated living his manhood on the run,
But what is past cannot be undone.
He took refuge under Saphira’s great wing,
And realized his destiny to overthrow the king.
Through river and desert they ran away from their foe
Toward the mountains, to hide in the snow.
They were captured by evil and put in a cell,
And Eragon thought he was put in hell.
Still, he continued down his trail,
To be rid of the Urgals, but to no avail.
The Urgals had followed them into their den,
Eragon had hoped not to fight them again.
A fierce, bloody fight saw the Urgals undone
Ajihad’s was lost, yet the battle was won.
And now our hero with the Elves goes to dwell
But as of that tale, only Paolini can tell.
Literature
Eragon: The Spoof
All the characters are in a bar, awaiting the release of Brisngr, and the start of a new adventure. There are the usual discussions of how screwed up Paolini seems to be by messing up the usual norm.
Eragon: *depressed* Man... This whole adventure sucks....
Arya: Why? You're the heroic underdog Dragon Rider! You should be happy.
Eragon: Really? Shall I run down my whole life for you? I've never known my parents, one of which happens to be a long-dead, border-psychotic, cold-hearted bastard, my uncle was slaughtered and my home villiage destroyed, my cousin hates me, weird things happen to me, my brother beat me down and stole my sword, and
Literature
Fireplace, Murtagh and Tornac
Tornac sat in the great armchair in front of the grand fireplace in one of the three studies in Morzan's former apartments. He lay down his leather-bound book with a sigh, and closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the heat from the fire, and the comfort of the chair. Gradually he opened his eyes again, only to stare into the flames.
Even after a month he still couldn't believe he was here, in Morzan's chair, reading his books, guardian to his son... Murtagh was a quiet boy, and moved about like a whisper... like the shadow of a whisper. No doubt this was from living under the roof of that drunken brute. tornac had seen the scar
Suggested Collections
Poem I wrote based on the plot of the Best Selling Novel "Eragon."
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This is SO AMAZING!