Having No Other Recourse, Roran Resorted To

But Ask Yourself This Eragon: If Gods Exist, Have They Been Good Custodians Of Alagaesia? Death, Sickness, Poverty, Tyranny And Countless Other Miseries Stalk The Land. If This Is The Handiwork Of Divine Beings, Then They Are To Be Rebelled Against And Overthrown, Not Given Obeisance, Obedience, And Reverance.

Her Sculptured Face Was As Perfect As A Painting.

She Gave Him A Wan Smile. "and Then You Came, Eragon. You And Saphira. After Hope Had Deserted Me And I Was About To Be Taken To Galbatorix In Uru'baen, A Rider Appeared To Rescue Me. A Rider And A Dragon!" "and Morzan's Son," He Said. "both Of Morzan's Sons." "describe It How You Will, It Was Such An Improbable Rescue, I Occasionally Think That I Did Go Mad And That I've Imagined Everything Since.

Arya.' He Looked Down The Silvery River And Then Back At Arya, And He Gripped The Hilt Of Brisingr. He Was So Full Of Emotion, He Trembled. He Did Not Want To Leave, But He Knew He Must. 'stay With Me-' Her Gaze Darted Up. 'i Cannot.' '...stay With Me Until The First Curve In The River.' She Hesitated, Then Nodded.

For Her, Choices Were Simple; Either There Was An Action She Could Take To Improve The Situation, In Which Case She Took It, Or There Was Not, And Everything Else Said On The Subject Was So Much Meaningless Noise.