Andlátkyn; Vandr Sanses unin Alagaësia

Vargrimstn

((Finally! I'm getting into it again with the longer chapters! Oh how I've missed this!))

Error stood with his legs crossed, leaning on a wall with his arms cradling Fresh in his lap as clan chiefs arrived in the ornate meeting room. Orik was standing calmly to his right, Eragon tense on the dwarf's other side, hand resting upon the pommel of his temporary dwarf sword.

The dwarf chieftain had only briefly explained to him how his men had uncovered the perpetrators behind the attack on the Rider, having been more focused on informing the human of the details. Error wasn't overly concerned. He understood who ordered it, and further knew it would be dealt with.

He didn't quite want to be here, but Orik had insisted it would be best he attended, especially now. The god couldn't fathom why, but he didn't bother asking. He just came with and resigned himself to sit through this despite his tension.

He glanced over at Vermûnd as the chief arrived, Orik whispering a reminder to Eragon as the human prompted a question shortly after in likewise fashion.
"If blood is shed, should I seize the opportunity to kill that snake, Vermûnd?"
The dwarf chuckled humorlessly. "It would hardly endear you to the other grimstborithn…. Ah, I must go now. Pray to Sindri for luck, would you? We are about to venture into a lava field none have dared cross before."

They fell silent as the chieftains found their seats, those not among their number seating themselves along the back wall to watch the proceedings.
Thus, Gannel began the meet in his home tongue, Fresh mutely translating as Error studied the priest.

"Greetings again, mine fellow clan chiefs. But whether 'tis well met or not, I am undecided, for certain disturbing rumors- rumors of rumors, if truth be told- have reached mine ears. I have no information beyond these vague and worrisome mutterings, nor proof upon which to found an accusation of misdeeds. However, today is mine day to preside over this, our congregation, I propose that we delay our most serious debates for the moment, and if you are agreeable, allow me to pose a few questions to the meet."

The others mumbled amongst themselves before a few raised their voices.
"I have no objection, Grimstborith Gannel. You have aroused mine curiosity with these cryptic insinuations. Let us hear what questions you have." Íorûnn stated, followed by Nado. "Aye, let us hear them."
"Let us hear them." Echoed Manndrâth, repeated by the rest of the chiefs.

Gannel set his knuckles on the table, considering how to continue before speaking up.
"Yesterday, while we were lunching in our chosen places of repast, knurlan throughout the tunnels underneath the southern quadrant of Tronjheim heard a noise. Reports of its loudness differ, but that so many noticed it over so large an area proves that it was no small disturbance. Like you, I received the usual warnings of a possible cave-in. What you may not be aware of, however, is that just two hours past-"

Fresh stopped translating, Error blinking at him.
Not sure how to explain.. He explained briefly before catching onto Hûndfast's words to Eragon, translating for the human as he was.
Dat. Runners-of-the-tunnels. Coolio.

He promptly resumed, falling back into a certain cadence of monotonous translation, studying the priest as Error cradled him closer.
"-runners-of-the-tunnels discovered evidence of a mighty fight within one of the ancient tunnels that our famed forefather, Korgan Longbeard, excavated. The floor was painted with blood, the walls were dark with soot from a lantern a warrior of careless blade did breach, cracks split the surrounding stone, and sprawled throughout were seven charred and mangled bodies, with signs that others may have been removed. Nor were these the remnants of some obscure skirmish from the Battle of Farthen Dûr. No! For the blood had yet to dry, the soot was soft, the cracks were most obviously freshly broken, and, I am told, the residue of powerful magics could still be detected within the area."