Brisingr Spork: Bloodwolf
Chapter 11: Bloodwolf
This chapter is 14 pages long, and, much like the chapters before and after it, is fairly pointless. Nasuada starts her day and then hears that the elves are approaching. They go out to meet them and find that their leader is a furry (because why not), and the chapter ends.
By my calculations, from counting lines, counting average words in a line, and number of pages, that’s over 5,300 words dedicated to something I summed up in 33 words. So at least Paolini is being true to form.
This may seem off topic, but bear with me for a moment. Do you remember that song that was on the radio (at least in the states) this last year, called “Lost Boy”:
It was amateurish, and rough, and frankly had no business being on the pop charts. I actually liked it quite a bit, mostly for those reasons; there’s something inherently charming about a beginner’s work. You can see their enthusiasm and passion, even if talent is lacking in some respects. That’s part of why I like the blue brick the best out of the four; you can tell that Paolini was an amateur, but he was also having a good time.
Brisingr, on the other hand, is still just as amateurish, still maintains a feeling of “this is a first draft,” and has absolutely none of the charm.
Let’s jump in, shall we?
Our first big issue we run into in this chapter is Paolini, once again, focusing on the wrong thing by listing what should be the focus of the drama in the same way you’d list what you had for breakfast:
Nasuada spent the next few hours reviewing the Varden’s latest inventory reports, calculating the number of wagon trains she would need to move the Varden farther north, and adding and subtracting rows of figures that represented the finances of her army. She sent messages to the dwarves and Urgals, ordered the bladesmiths to increase the production of spearheads, threatened the Council of Elders with dissolution-as she did most every week-and otherwise attended to the Varden’s business. Then, with Elva at her side, Nasuada rode out on her stallion, Battle-storm, and met with Trianna, who had captured and was busy interrogating a member of Galbatorix’s spy network, the Black Hand.
This small paragraph, that is completely inconsequential to the rest of the book, raises a lot of questions:
Likewise, capturing one of Galbatorix’s spies. Where was he captured? How did they capture and identify him as a spy? Was it in or near the camp? Does Galbatorix therefore know where the Varden is and mean they need to run for it? How is he being “interrogated”? Does that mean torture? Probing his brain? What was he trying to learn from the Varden? How does Nasuada feel about interrogations and interrogation methods? Why is Trianna in charge of the interrogation, anyway?
But, just like the last scenario, we don’t get to know any real answers to any of that; the next paragraph begins with, “As she and Elva left Trianna’s tent…”. Because gleaning information about your enemy, Galbatorix, whom you are at war with, is not nearly as important as the rest of the chapter.
A man starts running through the tents toward Nas, yelling that “the elves are here! The elves have arrived!” Her guards form a circle around her to stop the potentially crazy guy from getting to her. Nas realizes that these are the spellcasters Islanzadi sent to protect Eragon.
“Quick, my horse,” she said, and snapped her fingers. Her forearms burned as she swung herself onto Battle-storm. She waited only long enough for the nearest Urgal to hand her Elva, then drove her heels into the stallion.
Please note, at this point, that someone brought Nas her horse (I’d assume one of her guards) and that an Urgal (also presumably one of her guards) hands her Elva. This will be important in a moment.
Nas rides through the tents to the northern end of the camp, where she and Elva start looking for the newcomers. Angela shows up out of nowhere, and Nas asks how she got there so fast.
“Oh well, I like to know what’s going on, and being there is so much faster than waiting for someone to tell me about it afterward. Besides, people always leave out important pieces of information, like whether someone’s ring finger is longer than their index finger, or whether they have magical shields protecting them, or whether the donkey they are riding happens to have a bald patch in the shape of a rooster’s head. Don’t you agree?”
You know, I almost like Angela, and I can kind of see what Paolini is trying to go for with her character. I don’t have objections to goofy, quirky characters in principle.
I had a manager once, who was funny and goofy, but something rubbed me the wrong way about her. It took me a while to realize it, but she was completely enamored with herself and no one else. Trying to have a conversation with her was extremely difficult because she was much more interested in amusing herself than connecting with you.
I think that’s the same issue I have with Angela; it’s not that she’s quirky, it’s that she’s in love with herself and no one else. If she were quirky but also actually invested in other peoples’ lives, I think she’d be a much more tolerable character.
They have a pointless conversation in which it’s revealed that Angela is not above using loaded dice to get what she wants, and then Nas’s guards finally catch up to her. They stink (especially the Urgals), which Nas is having difficulty hiding. The leader of her guard, Garven, asks for a private word with her.
“Blast it, Lady Nasuada, you shouldn’t have left us as you did!”
Left them? But. . .but you handed Nas her horse, and put Elva behind her in the saddle; surely you knew from what she said and how she acted that she was going to move quickly. Garven could easily have stepped in at that point and said “Now wait just a minute” or grabbed her horse’s reins.
Also: if Nasuada is going to go on horseback, why are none of her guards on horses? How is that supposed to help? I can understand maybe the Urgals being on foot (especially since they’re supposedly faster than men), but the regular humans and dwarves should be mounted if she is.
Garven starts chewing Nas out, and she says that it wasn’t a big risk.
“A small risk? Not an hour ago, you received proof that Galbatorix still has agents hidden among us He has been able to infiltrate us again and again, and yet you see fit to abandon your escort and go racing through a host of potential assassins!”
Wait wait wait. . . that spy was among the Varden?! And this isn’t the first time this has happened?!
WHAT IN THE ACTUAL CRAP, PAOLINI?!
You can’t do that! You can’t establish that your Big Bad not only knows the Rebel Base’s location, but that he’s successfully infiltrated it for information on multiple occasions and have it be treated as an ordinary, day-to-day occurrence!
Gah, Paolini can’t even rip off Star Wars properly! This should be something expanded upon, with Galbatorix now presenting a great, very real, very looming threat, not treated like an “oh well” scenario. *facepalm*
Anyway.
Garven expounds how her leaving them makes the Nighthawks look incompetent and that the only way her guard will be able to protect her is if they have a reputation of being “the smartest, the toughest, and the meanest.” If people assume they’ll be blinking useless, there will be a lot more attempts on Nas’s life.
This is actually fairly logical, especially Paolini, but it’s kinda hard for the Nighthawks to appear that way when they can’t even keep up with Nas when she’s on her horse. What would they do if a mounted guy came in and scooped her up to kidnap her?
Nas is impressed with his eloquence (because of course she is; Paolini’s characters never miss a chance to compliment each other’s speaking abilities) and gives us this gem:
“I see Jormundur has surrounded me with warriors as skilled with their tongues as they are with their swords,” she said with a smile.
. . .Yeah, I’m just gonna let that one be.
They spend about three pages on. . .nothing, really. Nas suggests that they adopt “the smartest, the toughest, the meanest” as the Nighthawk’s motto.
“If the other Nighthawks approve of it, you should have Trianna translate the phrase into the ancient language, and I will have it inscribed on your shields and embroidered on your standards.”
If you translate it into the AL, aren’t you making it unreadable to everyone but elves, Eragon, and the mages? How is that helpful? Also, since it’s in the AL, would that make it true? Would inscribing those words onto the standards make the standard bearers the smartest, toughest, and meanest warriors? If that’s the case, why not put words like “invincible” and “immortal” on them? Why not inscribe everything with the words of the ancient language?
It could be argued that Nas as a non-mage doesn’t fully understand how the AL works (and frankly, no one seems to) and that she can be excused for this kind of nonsensical thinking. . .or we can blame Paolini for not thinking this through. I think I’m going to go with the latter.
The elves finally show up, and we get a look at their leader, who gives this chapter its name:
When he was still several hundred feet away, the lead elf appeared soot-black from head to toe. At first Nasuada assumed he was dark-skinned, like herself, and wearing dark attire, but as he drew closer, she saw the elf wore only a loincloth and a braided fabric belt with a small pouch attached. The rest of him was covered with midnight-blue fur that glistened with a healthy sheen under the glare of the sun.
While we will naturally assume the other elves are. . .what color? White?
Does he maintain that “healthy sheen” with his tongue or magical elf shampoo? INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW!
On average, the fur was a quarter-inch long-a smooth flexible armor that mirrored the shape and movement of the underlying muscles-but on his ankles and the undersides of his forearms, it extended a full two inches, and between his shoulder blades, there was a ruffled mane that stuck out a handsbreadth from his body and tapered down along his back to the base of his spine. Jagged bangs shadowed his brow, and catlike tufts sprouted from the tips of his pointed ears, but otherwise the fur on his face was so short and flat, only its color betrayed its presence. His eyes were bright yellow. Instead of fingernails, a claw protruded from each of his middle fingers. And as he slowed to a stop before her, Nasuada noticed that a certain odor surrounded him: a salty musk reminiscent of dry juniper wood, oiled leather, and smoke. It was such a strong smell, and so obviously masculine, Nasuada felt her skin go hot and cold and crawl with anticipation, and she blushed and was glad it would not show.
Sigh.
One. Fur is not in any way armor. Especially that short.
I wish Paolini would be more consistent with his units of measurement; if you’re going to use something like inches, stick to inches. If you’re going to use “handsbreadths,” go ahead and use that. Don’t mix and match; it’s confusing.
And why, in the name of good taste, does he only have claws on his middle fingers? Does he chew the rest of them to stubs? Does he want the length advantage to flip people off? What?
And. . .elf musk. Um. Why? And why would he design it to be attractive to humans?
The rest of the elves look pretty normal, though two of them are described as having “hair like starlight” (what color would that be? White? Blue?). They exchange introductions, and the furry, whose name is “Blodgharm,” tells Nas that the elves have taken the town of Ceunon.
Hooray! They’ve taken Ceunon! We cared so much about this highly strategic move before this point!
Nas quietly says to Mr. Furry, “I trust that Queen Islanzadi will be gentle with the people of Ceunon.” Mr. Furry responds with the following:
“Queen Islanzadi is both kind and merciful to her subjects, even if they are her unwilling subjects, but if anyone dares oppose us, we shall sweep them aside like dead leaves before an autumn storm.”
Does “kind and merciful” mean something different in Elvish than in the human tongue? Because that’s just about the only way this sentence makes any sense. Being kind and merciful, and violently sweeping aside any opposition, those are not ideas that really go together.
They chit-chat. Mr. Furry makes the claim that he believes that he, his posse, and Saphira will be able to “overcome Thorn and Murtaugh.” Well, that’s good. Having your heroes express their utter confidence in being able to hold off the enemy doesn’t undermine the drama and tension you’re trying to build at all.
Nas asks the elves to undergo a mental examination to make sure they aren’t spies (and as we’ve seen, the Varden’s methods of keeping out spies is utterly foolproof). They agree, though they warn that if the inspector delves too deeply into the elves’ minds, it will likely kill the examiner. Charming, aren’t they? And if that’s the case, what’s the point of the examination?
Garven is the one who probes the elf-brains. Not Trianna or Angela or someone well-versed in the ancient language, wards, or magic, but a human captain of the guards. Right.
Garven examines them all and proclaims them as “not human” and is extremely shaken for the experience. You know, why didn’t they just have the elves say “I am an elf” in the ancient language? That seems pretty straightforward, and even if you aren’t a magic user you can learn what those words sound like.
They talk a bit more, and Nasuada catches herself fantasizing about running her hands through Mr. Furry’s mane. Elva leans over to her and says,
“Horehound. Concentrate upon the taste of horehound.”
Okay, Paolini. As you’ve established it, Elva’s curse is that she must protect others from “misfortune.” How is Nasuada being swayed by Mr. Furry’s sexy smell any kind of “misfortune”? What is she preventing? Unintended pregnancy? And why does thinking of a smell even work?
Nas asks why Mr. Furry is a furry.
A shiny ripple flowed through Blodhgarm’s fur as he shrugged. “This shape pleased me,” he said. “Some write poems about the sun and the moon, others grow flowers or build great structures or compose music. As much as I appreciate those various art forms, I believe that true beauty only exists in the fang of a wolf, in the pelt of the forest cat, in the eye of an eagle. So I adopted those attributes for myself. In another hundred years, I may lose interest in the beasts of the land and instead decide that the beasts of the sea embody all that is good, and then I will cover myself with scales, transform my hands into fins and my feet into a tail, and I will vanish beneath the surface of the wave and never be seen in Alagaesia.”
I really have nothing to say to that.
Nas jokes that she hopes he doesn’t turn into a fish anytime soon, and that is SO FUNNY that everyone laughs, and the elves laughing is. . .well. . .
Without warning, the twelve elves filled the air with their clear, bright laughter, and birds for over a mile in every direction burst into song. The sound of their mirth was like water falling on crystal. Nasuada smiled without meaning to, and around her she saw similar expressions on the face of her guards. Even the two Urgals seemed giddy with joy. And when the elves fell silent and the world became mundane again, Nasuada felt the sadness of a fading dream. A film of tears obscured her vision for a clutch of heartbeats, and then that too was gone.
Oh for the love of-really, Paolini? I guess if you’re an elf, when you laugh the world truly laughs with you. Why not just send some elves to Uru’baen and have everyone laugh themselves to death?
More of the Varden come out to meet the elves, along with Saphira, and Nas closes us out of the chapter wondering how to keep the women of the Varden away from Mr. Furry’s super sexy smell. Maybe they’ll figure out a way to make magical gas masks.
And that’s it. Hooray! We accomplished so much!
This chapter is 14 pages long, and, much like the chapters before and after it, is fairly pointless. Nasuada starts her day and then hears that the elves are approaching. They go out to meet them and find that their leader is a furry (because why not), and the chapter ends.
By my calculations, from counting lines, counting average words in a line, and number of pages, that’s over 5,300 words dedicated to something I summed up in 33 words. So at least Paolini is being true to form.
This may seem off topic, but bear with me for a moment. Do you remember that song that was on the radio (at least in the states) this last year, called “Lost Boy”:
Click to viewIt was amateurish, and rough, and frankly had no business being on the pop charts. I actually liked it quite a bit, mostly for those reasons; there’s something inherently charming about a beginner’s work. You can see their enthusiasm and passion, even if talent is lacking in some respects. That’s part of why I like the blue brick the best out of the four; you can tell that Paolini was an amateur, but he was also having a good time.
Brisingr, on the other hand, is still just as amateurish, still maintains a feeling of “this is a first draft,” and has absolutely none of the charm.
Let’s jump in, shall we?
Our first big issue we run into in this chapter is Paolini, once again, focusing on the wrong thing by listing what should be the focus of the drama in the same way you’d list what you had for breakfast:
Nasuada spent the next few hours reviewing the Varden’s latest inventory reports, calculating the number of wagon trains she would need to move the Varden farther north, and adding and subtracting rows of figures that represented the finances of her army. She sent messages to the dwarves and Urgals, ordered the bladesmiths to increase the production of spearheads, threatened the Council of Elders with dissolution-as she did most every week-and otherwise attended to the Varden’s business. Then, with Elva at her side, Nasuada rode out on her stallion, Battle-storm, and met with Trianna, who had captured and was busy interrogating a member of Galbatorix’s spy network, the Black Hand.
This small paragraph, that is completely inconsequential to the rest of the book, raises a lot of questions:
- They’re moving the Varden farther north? Why? How are they getting wagon trains? Who is supplying them with goods? Are they well equipped? Are they having troubles finding resources? More background on this would easily raise the drama and tension, but instead we’re left to assume that everything is hunky-dory, which is incredibly boring.
- Is Nasuada doing her own accounting? Why? Why not have Jeod or someone like that do the book-keeping? And how are the finances? Good? Bad? Is she worried about things?
- What messages to the dwarves and Urgals? What does she need to communicate to them? What’s going on with these groups?
- Why do they need more spearheads? Are the soldiers ill-equipped? Why the focus on spearheads? Are they planning or anticipating a melee fight?
- Why do we need to know the name of her horse?
- She’s threatening the Council of Elders with dissolution?!
- They’ve captured one of Galbatorix’s spies?!
Likewise, capturing one of Galbatorix’s spies. Where was he captured? How did they capture and identify him as a spy? Was it in or near the camp? Does Galbatorix therefore know where the Varden is and mean they need to run for it? How is he being “interrogated”? Does that mean torture? Probing his brain? What was he trying to learn from the Varden? How does Nasuada feel about interrogations and interrogation methods? Why is Trianna in charge of the interrogation, anyway?
But, just like the last scenario, we don’t get to know any real answers to any of that; the next paragraph begins with, “As she and Elva left Trianna’s tent…”. Because gleaning information about your enemy, Galbatorix, whom you are at war with, is not nearly as important as the rest of the chapter.
A man starts running through the tents toward Nas, yelling that “the elves are here! The elves have arrived!” Her guards form a circle around her to stop the potentially crazy guy from getting to her. Nas realizes that these are the spellcasters Islanzadi sent to protect Eragon.
“Quick, my horse,” she said, and snapped her fingers. Her forearms burned as she swung herself onto Battle-storm. She waited only long enough for the nearest Urgal to hand her Elva, then drove her heels into the stallion.
Please note, at this point, that someone brought Nas her horse (I’d assume one of her guards) and that an Urgal (also presumably one of her guards) hands her Elva. This will be important in a moment.
Nas rides through the tents to the northern end of the camp, where she and Elva start looking for the newcomers. Angela shows up out of nowhere, and Nas asks how she got there so fast.
“Oh well, I like to know what’s going on, and being there is so much faster than waiting for someone to tell me about it afterward. Besides, people always leave out important pieces of information, like whether someone’s ring finger is longer than their index finger, or whether they have magical shields protecting them, or whether the donkey they are riding happens to have a bald patch in the shape of a rooster’s head. Don’t you agree?”
You know, I almost like Angela, and I can kind of see what Paolini is trying to go for with her character. I don’t have objections to goofy, quirky characters in principle.
I had a manager once, who was funny and goofy, but something rubbed me the wrong way about her. It took me a while to realize it, but she was completely enamored with herself and no one else. Trying to have a conversation with her was extremely difficult because she was much more interested in amusing herself than connecting with you.
I think that’s the same issue I have with Angela; it’s not that she’s quirky, it’s that she’s in love with herself and no one else. If she were quirky but also actually invested in other peoples’ lives, I think she’d be a much more tolerable character.
They have a pointless conversation in which it’s revealed that Angela is not above using loaded dice to get what she wants, and then Nas’s guards finally catch up to her. They stink (especially the Urgals), which Nas is having difficulty hiding. The leader of her guard, Garven, asks for a private word with her.
“Blast it, Lady Nasuada, you shouldn’t have left us as you did!”
Left them? But. . .but you handed Nas her horse, and put Elva behind her in the saddle; surely you knew from what she said and how she acted that she was going to move quickly. Garven could easily have stepped in at that point and said “Now wait just a minute” or grabbed her horse’s reins.
Also: if Nasuada is going to go on horseback, why are none of her guards on horses? How is that supposed to help? I can understand maybe the Urgals being on foot (especially since they’re supposedly faster than men), but the regular humans and dwarves should be mounted if she is.
Garven starts chewing Nas out, and she says that it wasn’t a big risk.
“A small risk? Not an hour ago, you received proof that Galbatorix still has agents hidden among us He has been able to infiltrate us again and again, and yet you see fit to abandon your escort and go racing through a host of potential assassins!”
Wait wait wait. . . that spy was among the Varden?! And this isn’t the first time this has happened?!
WHAT IN THE ACTUAL CRAP, PAOLINI?!
You can’t do that! You can’t establish that your Big Bad not only knows the Rebel Base’s location, but that he’s successfully infiltrated it for information on multiple occasions and have it be treated as an ordinary, day-to-day occurrence!
Gah, Paolini can’t even rip off Star Wars properly! This should be something expanded upon, with Galbatorix now presenting a great, very real, very looming threat, not treated like an “oh well” scenario. *facepalm*
Anyway.
Garven expounds how her leaving them makes the Nighthawks look incompetent and that the only way her guard will be able to protect her is if they have a reputation of being “the smartest, the toughest, and the meanest.” If people assume they’ll be blinking useless, there will be a lot more attempts on Nas’s life.
This is actually fairly logical, especially Paolini, but it’s kinda hard for the Nighthawks to appear that way when they can’t even keep up with Nas when she’s on her horse. What would they do if a mounted guy came in and scooped her up to kidnap her?
Nas is impressed with his eloquence (because of course she is; Paolini’s characters never miss a chance to compliment each other’s speaking abilities) and gives us this gem:
“I see Jormundur has surrounded me with warriors as skilled with their tongues as they are with their swords,” she said with a smile.
. . .Yeah, I’m just gonna let that one be.
They spend about three pages on. . .nothing, really. Nas suggests that they adopt “the smartest, the toughest, the meanest” as the Nighthawk’s motto.
“If the other Nighthawks approve of it, you should have Trianna translate the phrase into the ancient language, and I will have it inscribed on your shields and embroidered on your standards.”
If you translate it into the AL, aren’t you making it unreadable to everyone but elves, Eragon, and the mages? How is that helpful? Also, since it’s in the AL, would that make it true? Would inscribing those words onto the standards make the standard bearers the smartest, toughest, and meanest warriors? If that’s the case, why not put words like “invincible” and “immortal” on them? Why not inscribe everything with the words of the ancient language?
It could be argued that Nas as a non-mage doesn’t fully understand how the AL works (and frankly, no one seems to) and that she can be excused for this kind of nonsensical thinking. . .or we can blame Paolini for not thinking this through. I think I’m going to go with the latter.
The elves finally show up, and we get a look at their leader, who gives this chapter its name:
When he was still several hundred feet away, the lead elf appeared soot-black from head to toe. At first Nasuada assumed he was dark-skinned, like herself, and wearing dark attire, but as he drew closer, she saw the elf wore only a loincloth and a braided fabric belt with a small pouch attached. The rest of him was covered with midnight-blue fur that glistened with a healthy sheen under the glare of the sun.
While we will naturally assume the other elves are. . .what color? White?
Does he maintain that “healthy sheen” with his tongue or magical elf shampoo? INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW!
On average, the fur was a quarter-inch long-a smooth flexible armor that mirrored the shape and movement of the underlying muscles-but on his ankles and the undersides of his forearms, it extended a full two inches, and between his shoulder blades, there was a ruffled mane that stuck out a handsbreadth from his body and tapered down along his back to the base of his spine. Jagged bangs shadowed his brow, and catlike tufts sprouted from the tips of his pointed ears, but otherwise the fur on his face was so short and flat, only its color betrayed its presence. His eyes were bright yellow. Instead of fingernails, a claw protruded from each of his middle fingers. And as he slowed to a stop before her, Nasuada noticed that a certain odor surrounded him: a salty musk reminiscent of dry juniper wood, oiled leather, and smoke. It was such a strong smell, and so obviously masculine, Nasuada felt her skin go hot and cold and crawl with anticipation, and she blushed and was glad it would not show.
Sigh.
One. Fur is not in any way armor. Especially that short.
I wish Paolini would be more consistent with his units of measurement; if you’re going to use something like inches, stick to inches. If you’re going to use “handsbreadths,” go ahead and use that. Don’t mix and match; it’s confusing.
And why, in the name of good taste, does he only have claws on his middle fingers? Does he chew the rest of them to stubs? Does he want the length advantage to flip people off? What?
And. . .elf musk. Um. Why? And why would he design it to be attractive to humans?
The rest of the elves look pretty normal, though two of them are described as having “hair like starlight” (what color would that be? White? Blue?). They exchange introductions, and the furry, whose name is “Blodgharm,” tells Nas that the elves have taken the town of Ceunon.
Hooray! They’ve taken Ceunon! We cared so much about this highly strategic move before this point!
Nas quietly says to Mr. Furry, “I trust that Queen Islanzadi will be gentle with the people of Ceunon.” Mr. Furry responds with the following:
“Queen Islanzadi is both kind and merciful to her subjects, even if they are her unwilling subjects, but if anyone dares oppose us, we shall sweep them aside like dead leaves before an autumn storm.”
Does “kind and merciful” mean something different in Elvish than in the human tongue? Because that’s just about the only way this sentence makes any sense. Being kind and merciful, and violently sweeping aside any opposition, those are not ideas that really go together.
They chit-chat. Mr. Furry makes the claim that he believes that he, his posse, and Saphira will be able to “overcome Thorn and Murtaugh.” Well, that’s good. Having your heroes express their utter confidence in being able to hold off the enemy doesn’t undermine the drama and tension you’re trying to build at all.
Nas asks the elves to undergo a mental examination to make sure they aren’t spies (and as we’ve seen, the Varden’s methods of keeping out spies is utterly foolproof). They agree, though they warn that if the inspector delves too deeply into the elves’ minds, it will likely kill the examiner. Charming, aren’t they? And if that’s the case, what’s the point of the examination?
Garven is the one who probes the elf-brains. Not Trianna or Angela or someone well-versed in the ancient language, wards, or magic, but a human captain of the guards. Right.
Garven examines them all and proclaims them as “not human” and is extremely shaken for the experience. You know, why didn’t they just have the elves say “I am an elf” in the ancient language? That seems pretty straightforward, and even if you aren’t a magic user you can learn what those words sound like.
They talk a bit more, and Nasuada catches herself fantasizing about running her hands through Mr. Furry’s mane. Elva leans over to her and says,
“Horehound. Concentrate upon the taste of horehound.”
Okay, Paolini. As you’ve established it, Elva’s curse is that she must protect others from “misfortune.” How is Nasuada being swayed by Mr. Furry’s sexy smell any kind of “misfortune”? What is she preventing? Unintended pregnancy? And why does thinking of a smell even work?
Nas asks why Mr. Furry is a furry.
A shiny ripple flowed through Blodhgarm’s fur as he shrugged. “This shape pleased me,” he said. “Some write poems about the sun and the moon, others grow flowers or build great structures or compose music. As much as I appreciate those various art forms, I believe that true beauty only exists in the fang of a wolf, in the pelt of the forest cat, in the eye of an eagle. So I adopted those attributes for myself. In another hundred years, I may lose interest in the beasts of the land and instead decide that the beasts of the sea embody all that is good, and then I will cover myself with scales, transform my hands into fins and my feet into a tail, and I will vanish beneath the surface of the wave and never be seen in Alagaesia.”
I really have nothing to say to that.
Nas jokes that she hopes he doesn’t turn into a fish anytime soon, and that is SO FUNNY that everyone laughs, and the elves laughing is. . .well. . .
Without warning, the twelve elves filled the air with their clear, bright laughter, and birds for over a mile in every direction burst into song. The sound of their mirth was like water falling on crystal. Nasuada smiled without meaning to, and around her she saw similar expressions on the face of her guards. Even the two Urgals seemed giddy with joy. And when the elves fell silent and the world became mundane again, Nasuada felt the sadness of a fading dream. A film of tears obscured her vision for a clutch of heartbeats, and then that too was gone.
Oh for the love of-really, Paolini? I guess if you’re an elf, when you laugh the world truly laughs with you. Why not just send some elves to Uru’baen and have everyone laugh themselves to death?
More of the Varden come out to meet the elves, along with Saphira, and Nas closes us out of the chapter wondering how to keep the women of the Varden away from Mr. Furry’s super sexy smell. Maybe they’ll figure out a way to make magical gas masks.
And that’s it. Hooray! We accomplished so much!