((Y'all know what time it is.. :) ))

((... Should I double update? Hmmm..))

It was dark, and GB was prancing around in his clanking and slightly ill-fitting suit of armor, unable to wear the headplate due to his skull not being the proper shape as an Alagaësian dragon's, missing a few feet on the tail due to his being too thin for them to fit. Saphira was suited up herself, blinking as he removed the plates designed to guard his wings. He was fortunate to not have the fragile skin true dragons had, instead an almost ectoplasmic glowing membrane of magic that immediately regenerated due to lack of real solidity.

The Wyrdaí Islingrya, numbers having swollen from the new additions, surrounded the two dragons and Riders as Blue continuously cooed over his epic outfit, the skeleblaster chortling with him and generally retaining a playful attitude in an effort to not be brought down by the knowledge of the coming battle.

Eventually Orik arrived, everyone greeting him pleasantly as he joined them and struck up a conversation with Eragon and slowly falling asleep.
Unfortunately, this peace did not last, as it soon became apparent that someone was sneaking across the barren landscape between armies.
Angela and her werecat, Solembum following just after.

They all stood, most in surprise, some in curiosity, and a few in dread. She revealed a remarkable climbing and parkour ability launching herself between the fortifications and leaping over trenches, coming to a breathless stop beside Saphira. Then she tossed back her good and smiled. "A welcoming committee! How thoughtful of you."
Solembum shivered and switched to his humanoid form beside her as she spoke.

"What were you doing out there?" Orik questioned suspiciously.
"Oh, this and that."
"I think you'd better tell us." Eragon warned.
"Relax, we sense no betrayal in her." Nightmare assured them, digging his shoe into the diseased looking packed earth absentmindedly.
"See? Don't you trust Solembum and me, anyway?"
"Not really." Eragon admitted.
"You're pretty fucking weird." Dust answered bluntly.
"You and the Firelady."

She chuckled. "It's good not to trust, at least. Means you'll live longer. If you must know, I was doing my best to help defeat the Empire, only my methods don't involve yelling and running around with a sword."
"What exactly are your methods?" Orik demanded of the witch.
She didn't respond at first, taking the time to roll up her cloak and put it in her purse. "I'd rather not say; I want it to be a surprise." She then explained. "You won't have to wait long to find out. It'll start in a few hours."

"What will start?" The dwarf interrogated, pulling his beard. "If you can't give us a straight answer, we'll have to take you to Nasuada." "Orik…" Dream sighed, hoping for a break in conversation so he could speak.
"It's no use dragging me off to Nasuada; she gave me permission to cross lines."
"So you say." Orik fired back hotly.

"And so I say." Nasuada finally made her presence known to those unaware of minds, accompanied by four Kull. Killer yelped and fell backwards as Dust wheezed in surprise, Horror turning around so fast his neck vertebrae cracked.
Orik leapt back and swore viciously, grabbing his axe handle.
"My Lady." Eragon greeted in a muted voice.

Angela merely greeted Nasuada, then addressed the Urgals in their home tongue, to which they responded quite happily. The leader of the Varden took Eragon to one side to speak privately- even though the others could easily listen in due to greater hearing, Nightmare didn't really bother.

Within a few minutes, Nasuada walked away, giving them all some space as Eragon addressed them curtly.
"Nar Garzhvog, I am told that the four of you agreed to allow me within your minds."
"That is so, Firesword. Lady Nightstalker told us what was required. We are honored to have the chance to battle alongside such a mighty warrior, and one who has done so much for us."
"What do you mean? I have killed scores of your kin."

"By killing Durza, you freed us from his control. We are in your debt, Firesword. None of our rams will challenge you, and if you visit our halls, you and you dragon, Flametongue, will be welcomed as no outsiders ever before."

Eragon was clearly taken aback by the gratitude, as it was quite unexpected. He eventually remembered to speak.
"I won't forget."
He glanced over the other Urgals, then back to Garzhvog.
"Are you ready?"
"Aye, Rider."

Nightmare watched from the sidelines, him and Dream both somewhat aware of what was happening between the two minds as Eragon combed through the Urgal's consciousness. The human was growing more unsettled, bewildered and confused as time went one, and the Kull was merely passive and eager to lay bare his self to a stranger he held nothing but respect for.

It was, admittedly, fascinating for them to see a mortal- or minor immortal, as Eragon was- entering the mind of a mortal.
Back in the Multiverse, typically they were the only ones to do this. It was largely unknown that it was even possible to insert one's mind into another there.
Eventually Eragon tore free and threw his consciousness at the other Urgals.

When at last he was finished, Eragon gazed at Garzhvog with a good deal of respect. "Nar Garzhvog. I am proud to have you at my side. You may tell the Herndall that so long as the Urgals remain true to their word and do not turn against the Varden, I shall not oppose you."
Saphira took the chance to flick her tongue against his armor.
"Again, we are in your debt, Firesword." All four Urgals paid their tribute by fists to their foreheads.

"Good. Now that this is settled, I must be off. Eragon, you'll receive my signal from Trianna when the time has arrived." Nasuada turned and walked away briskly.

Now, all they had to do was wait.

. • ° . • ° . • ° . • °

It was several hours later, the dwarves under Orik's command sharpening their weapons, skeletons sleeping, a certain Temmie resting against her father, Urgals waiting soundlessly, and gods half drowsing together when the cries of pain and suffering rose up from the Empire's troops.
Dream shivered, curling closer to his brother as the negativity affected him, the darker wrapping his limbs around him as he hummed softly.

"What manner of creatures are they torturing to extract such fearsome howls?" Orik asked, some of the others slowly waking from the noise. "The sound chills the marrow in my bones, it does."
A quite snicker rose from Dust.
"I told you that you wouldn't have to wait very long." Angela spoke quietly, seeming as though she would be sick.
"You did this?" Eragon questioned in horror.

"Aye. I poisoned their stew, their bread, their drink- anything I could get my hands on. Some will die now, others will die later as the various toxins take their toll. I slipped the officers nightshade and other such poisons so they will hallucinate in battle." She smiled weakly, then it fell. "Not a very honorable way to fight, I suppose, but I'd rather do this than be killed. Confusion to our enemies and all that."

"Only a coward or a thief uses poison!" Orik exploded. "What glory is there in defeating a sick opponent?"
Angela laughed harshly. "Glory? If you want glory, there are thousands more troops I didn't poison. I'm sure you will have your fill of glory by the end of today."
"Is this why you needed the equipment in Orrin's tent?" Eragon queried, disquieted.
"That's right."

Fresh got up from his place not far from Geno and Error, coming and sitting between Orik and the Twins. He took off his sunglasses, staring at them with purple stained eyelight and dying Soul.
"'S totes unrad as it is.." He began in a rather dull voice, before staring out at the field with a strange expression.
"I.. feel dat it gotta be done.. yo." For once, Fresh didn't seem to be peppy. His voice took on a slightly morbid tone as he continued, the sound of screaming and dying humans echoing all around.

"If some of us don't see each other again, jus' know dat I really do care about all 'a ya, jus' in my own weird empty way." A hint of fondness emanated from him.
Dream reached over, grabbing one of the parasite's hands. "It's okay, Fresh. We won't be dying. Neither will you."
Fresh stared at him blankly for a while.
"I hope so." He murmured. "I really do."

"I don't want to die in front of my family."