Brisingr Chapters 49 & 50

Let me just say I’ve figured out what Gabby’s up to. He’s been working in the basement trying to unravel the spell that the Grey Ones made which restricted magic to words. I’m guessing he either wants to reword it so he can shade it and thus the world or destroy the world. Similar to the plot of Final Fantasy seven and six. The difference being Sephiroth and Kefka actually did something.

I’m leaning towards a mix of the two with heavier emphasis on six as Gabby is supposed to be “mad” much like ol’ Kefkers. Heck, now that I think about it Kefka gathered magicite, Gabby gathered Eldunari. Magicite are the remains of mystical creatures in gem form and Eldunari are…the remains of a mystical creature in gem form. I think I’ll stop looking for similarities before something bad happens. Next thing you know I’ll be locked in a padded room where the walls are scribbled with ‘just like…just like…’ over and over again.

And that’s the prediction I make, without having finished Brisingr or having read Inheiritance. We’ll see how well it bears out later this year when, presumably, Gabby makes his first appearance. Does anyone want to bet he’ll look very similar to John Malkovich from the movie? I think so.

These chapters are called ‘hands of a warrior’ and ‘the tree of life’.

And we’re still with Eragon. Shouldn’t we be bouncing back and forth between characters to make it seem exciting? Not that I care. Either way there’s so little plot and character development that it hardly warrants a trilogy let alone a tetralogy.

Eragon’s still talking. He’s asking about a sword now. There’s one in elfland owned by some lord who might give it up if asked “respectfully” but Oromis knows of no other. And sure they could ask what’s-her-face to make another but she swore she’d never make another. ‘Please Rhunön, make us another blade.’ ‘Screw you!’ ‘But, the fate of the world depends on it!’ ‘Eat a bag of chicken fried buttholes, I took an oath and if I don’t stick to it Eragon won’t find that sword under the tree.’ ‘There’s no sword under the tree. I’ve looked throughout elfland with magic, looking for metals.’ ‘Yeah, some jackass named Chris came by last week and buried it when he thought no one was looking.’

Why is Rhunön the only one that can make the damn swords? Surely she took at least one apprentice at some point. And even if there isn’t, why can’t one of the elves just magic a new blade? Rhunön does everything by hand, read: the hard way, when magic is right there to make it easy. Eragon is going to visit the tree but first he wants to learn to summon spirits.

A shadow passed over Oromis’s face. “I shall keep my word, Eragon, but sorcery is a dark and unseemly art. You should not seek to control other beings for your own gain. Even if you ignore the immorality of sorcery, it is an exceptionally dangerous and fiendishly complicated discipline. A magician requires at least three years of intensive study before he can hope to summon spirits and not have them possess him.

Three years or three minutes, depending on how long the plot demands it. Then he also wants to learn his true name and how to teleport stuff like Arya did with Saphira’s egg. Yeah, that’ll get used soon I’m sure. And then something hilarious happens.

A moment passed before Eragon realized to whom Oromis was referring. “Sloan is in Ellesméra?” said Eragon, astonished.

Yeah, Eragon was surprised that Sloan made it to elfland. In one sentence, Eragon has admitted he set the butcher out to die. ‘Holy crap, he actually made it? Damn. Do you guys have any arsenic or cyanide? I’ve got to kill…rats. Big ones.’ Way to go psychopathic bastard. Oh, and the elves haven’t healed his eyes because they’re racist.

The weeping man is broken inside,Glaedr said.He cannot see clearly enough for his eyes to be of any use.

Chris Paolini, mistaking confusion for wisdom since nineteen eighty three. What does that even mean? I know you don’t understand most things, Chris. But just because you don’t understand actual wisdom that doesn’t mean any confused thought in your head is smart.

Oromis says it would be wrong for Eragon to forget about him, like he has for most of the book. Then he grabs Eragon’s hands and starts feeling them and says he has the hands of a warrior and not to let them become the hands of a “man who revels in the carnage of war”. I’d say they’re more the hands of a man who just doesn’t care who he hurts.

And now they go to the Menoa tree. Eragon wanders around the tree for hours but doesn’t find anything. Then he goes back and eats. Um, moron? There’s a freaking war going on! People dying, lives changed and ruined. But it’s okay, you sit down to high tea and put your feet up. You’ve had a hard day of nailing exposition to our foreheads.

Eragon visits the noble who has a rider’s sword that’s from their dead brother in law. They’re willing to lend it but then Eragon picks it up and takes a disliking to it right off.

The blade of Támerlein was colored a dark, rich green, as was its sheath. A large emerald adorned the pommel. The furniture of the sword had been wrought of blued steel. A line of glyphs adorned the crossguard. In Elvish, they said,I am Támerlein, bringer of the final sleep . In length, the sword was equal to Zar’roc, but the blade was wider and the tip rounder and the build of the hilt was heavier. It was a beautiful, deadly weapon, but just by looking at it, Eragon could see that Rhunön had forged Támerlein for a person with a fighting style different from his own, a style that relied more on cutting and slashing than the faster, more elegant techniques Brom had taught him.

Yeah, I’m sure Eragon is all about the elegance. And the weight of the hilt wouldn’t change the sword so much that Eragon couldn’t use it. But otherwise Eragon couldn’t get a sword that’s made just for him and is just as special as he is.

So Eragon goes to the old bat in the forge and asks her to make him another and she asks. “Why should I loose another soul-reaver upon the world?” I don’t know, should you really let Raziel wander the spirit realm, consuming the loose souls of the recently dead? Someone go get Kain and see what he says.

Elf-Griswold says she could try but she needs some brightsteel, some metal that came from a shooting star. Eragon goes on his first fetch quest in the whole book. After sitting down and learning teleport object from Oromis then heading back to the tree where he begs it for help. ‘Oh great and mighty Christmas tree, please let me open my presents now, rather than waiting.’

Eragon can’t get its attention so Saphira starts biting at the roots and burning it. That wakes up the old Mana tree and it’s mad. She’s willing to give him the metal but she wants something in exchange, his appendix from the sounds of things.

The canopy of the Menoa tree grew still, and for several minutes, all was quiet in the clearing. Then the ground began to shake and the roots in front of Eragon began to twist and grind, shedding flakes of bark as they pulled aside to reveal a bare patch of dirt, out of which emerged what appeared to be a lump of corroded iron roughly two feet long and a foot and a half wide. As the ore came to rest on the surface of the rich black soil, Eragon felt a slight twinge in his lower belly. He winced and rubbed at the spot, but the momentary flare of discomfort had already vanished. Then the root around his ankle loosened and retreated into the ground, as did those that had been holding Saphira in place.

What the tree is going to do with his appendix, I don’t know. Unless it took his small intestine. That would be funny, at least when Eragon has to learn to subsist on intravenous fluids and water. The tree then tells them to make like her and get out of there while Saphira says they may live to regret what she did.