INHERITANCE: Memorandum Of Scales

MEETING ORRIN

ERAGON

THE city of Pulin...

Was far more quaint than Eragon had expected. Behind those giant walls hid a small, low rising settlement clustered amongst fields of gold.

The buildings themselves were light brown and drab, devoid of decor or striking architectural ingenuity.

What was beautiful were the mountains.

Giant behemoths loomed over Pulin, gracing the land with a protective shadow. Snow caps poked into fat clouds high above in the heavens.

"The Dwarves live almost directly below those Old Gods." Aerion informed, catching Eragon's gaze.

The group rode directly into the city. A waiting pair of guards took the lead, guiding the way through a confusing maze of interlocking streets. Sound was everywhere at once as people shouted and hawked wares or insults at one another.

Eragon saw processions of monks walk about the city.

"They're worshippers of Eä." Brom answered when Eragon asked.

"Eä is a First Men goddess of creation. They believe that she's the mountain above us now." He said while pointing upwards.

They came across a regal-looking estate, standout from the plain surroundings of Pulin. It bore three spires that lined across its two-story body vertically, interposed between blocks of stone housing.

The surrounding courtyard was decorated with a bubbling fountain, shaped in the likeness of a woman pouring water between raised stone.

The mounted horsemen brought them to the estate's entrance.

"Lord Azanen is within. He is joined by His Grace King Orrin, so be on your behavior." One of them warned as Eragon passed. Saphira ducked between legs while the group entered the estate.

They were immediately met by an assembly area, a large and empty room curled about on either side of Eragon. Paintings of classical figures lined marble ceilings, while red tapestry lead to a waiting throne.

A young man sat proudly, legs crossed. He was a handsome sight, brimming with energy and cocksure vigor. Beside him another stood. This one was older and far more plain looking.

He was dressed in strange robes that wrapped his body in segments, giving him the appearance of a mummified cadaver.

"These need no introduction!" Orrin clapped his hands together, jumping from his throne. The young King knelt gracefully before them.

"Lord Azanen, please join me in greeting our guests!" Orrin said enthusiastically. The mummified lord shuffled forth. Eragon had to keep from laughing- it looked like the man was tired of Orrin's antics.

"King Orrin, it's an honor." Brom returned Orrin's bow.

"Ah yes! You must be..The old warrior.. though I was told you were older.."

"The name's Brom. The boy is Eragon. He's the Rider." Brom pointed towards Eragon.

The boy felt Saphira push past his legs.

"I'm Saphira, his dragon." She greeted confidently.

The King's eyes gleamed, truly enraptured by Saphira's beauty. The small dragon hummed in Orrin's obvious appraise.

"I am Arya Valbhorethlian, Princess of the Laen Elf." Arya's powerful voice broke through Orrin's fixation on Saphira.

He bowed once more as he greeted her personally.