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antishurtugal_reborn2020-08-07 12:58 pm
Blue Brick Commentary
Chapter Thirty-One: Master of the Blade
The next day was easier on both of them. Eragon felt better and was able to answer more of Brom’s questions correctly. After an especially difficult exercise, Eragon mentioned his scrying of the woman. Brom pulled on his beard. “You say she was imprisoned?”
How can he answer the questions correctly if he couldn’t the night before? Brom’s never taught him this shit. How could Eragon know the answers? Common sense? Because it’s definitely not Saphira. We only remember she’s there and a part of this story when we need a woman’s opinion that really doesn’t count for much, or a fancy flight or dragon-strength.
Dienne: And now that I think about it, are these the same questions Brom asked earlier and he got wrong? Or are they an entirely new set?
Mara: Mm, yeah. Unless there was an instructional video or something sometime during the night, I don’t see how he could suddenly gain this information.
Dienne: Like, I get that Eragon’s Paolini’s self-insert, but come on. You can’t base a character on yourself who has all of your knowledge already.
Mara: laughs Yeah. Or, suddenly inexplicably gains that knowledge.
Eragon answers in the affirmative, and Brom asks if Eragon saw her face. Eragon says he didn’t, at least not very clearly and yet still he could tell she was Very Beautiful. He mentions that he didn’t have any problem seeing her eyes, which he’s decided is strange, and that she looked right at him. Brom says that as far as he knows, it’s impossible for anyone to know if they’re being scryed.
“Do you know who she might be?” asked Eragon, surprised by the eagerness in his own voice.
Is this... a euphemism for Eragon entering puberty and realizing girls don’t have cooties?
Brom says he doesn’t know who this chick might be, and I can’t imagine why Eragon would’ve asked him a stupid question like that because you’d think the response would be obvious, but Brom continues on by saying he could likely make a few guesses, but he doesn’t think any of them would be correct. Well, you never know, Brom, one just might be. Maybe you should have Eragon describe this mystery woman, see if you remember anything. No? Okay. Fine then. Brom then once more confirms How Special Eragon Is by saying he somehow managed to scry in his sleep something he’s never seen before all without using magic words. He also says something about dreams touching the spirit realm, but that goes nowhere.
“Perhaps to understand this we should search every prison and dungeon until we find the woman,” bantered Eragon. He actually thought it would be a good idea. Brom laughed and rode on.
BANTERED IS NOT A SPEECH TAG. Put down the thesaurus and go back to using said or something of the like. Also, here’s a perfectly good opportunity for Brom to call him out for being an idiot, and actually not get on my nerves about it. You’re being hunted by the Empire, and your grand idea - that you actually believe is a good idea - is to go hunting for a woman you’re not 100% sure exists in every single dungeon? Do you realize how many dungeons and jails there could be in Alagaesia? You’re going to go hundreds of miles out of your way to search all of them? Are you stupid?
Time Skip!
Brom’s strict training filled nearly every hour as the days slowly blended into weeks. Because of his splint, Eragon was forced to use his left hand whenever they sparred. Before long he could duel as well with his left hand as he had with his right.
You know, I still find this odd because it happens so quickly. Typically mastery comes after years of training, and even still, you keep training to hone those skills so you don’t lose them. I can’t suspend my belief enough that Eragon has become so skilled with a blade in only a handful of months (say, six) that he can defeat anyone but someone who’s studied the blade their entire life or an elf. I mean, strictly speaking, Brom’s right - Eragon can now have the advantage over anyone who can’t, or doesn’t know how to, use a sword. But literally all he’s done is turn Eragon into a bully. Anyone with more skill and knowledge than Eragon is going to whoop his ass.
Mara: Plus, really doing anything with your off hand takes a serious amount of work, because you’re essentially learning to do that thing all over again. I mean, have you ever tried using a fork with your other hand? It just feels awkward, because you have zero muscle memory. Writing? I dunno about you, but for me, it’s damn near impossible unless I’m extremely slow and deliberate. Now, using a sword is about 1000 times more complicated than either of those. He’s got to learn how to fight all over again from the other side of his body. He’s got to learn how to do everything he already could do, but essentially backwards, and continue doing it until it feels natural. Unless he was already doing a lot of things with both hands for a pretty good portion of his life, that’s gonna take a long fucking time.
Dienne: Basically he’s got to retrain his brain in order to use his off-hand as well as he can use his dominant hand. For me, writing with my left hand is a lesson in futility because I can’t do it. If I practiced long and hard enough, I might be able to write, but I definitely wouldn’t be putting out the same kind of quality or magnitude as with my right. And Eragon manages to do this in a handful of weeks. Weeks.
Mara: Yup. That’s literally impossible, like I said, unless he’s already trained that arm to have the same sort of dexterity as his main hand.
Dienne: Which he hasn’t. He’s right-hand dominant, and has always used that hand for everything. At least, as far as what’s described in within the story. And I’m sorry, unless you’re naturally ambidextrous, you don’t usually think about using your off hand for much more than grabbing things from that side or holding things. You don’t think “Oh, hey, I might need to use my off hand for writing one day, I’d better start training myself to use it.” And especially in medieval times, such as this is set, normal people don’t think about that shit either.
Mara: Right. Most people wouldn’t think beyond what they had to do that day. And most of them wouldn’t know how to read or write to begin with. The most they might have to do with their off hand would be like... eating with it, if their other hand were injured.
Dienne: Right, and maybe depending on their profession or survival needs, using a knife to skin animals or cut things. But not to wield a sword.
Mara: Even then, though, that hand would mostly be used to hold the thing they’re skinning or cutting.
Dienne: Besides... it’s not obvious (it’s subtle enough to miss, really) there’s a hint about people having that “the left hand belongs to evil” superstition, because Eragon mentions that Murtagh’s gedway ignasia is on his left hand, while Eragon’s and Arya’s are on their right hands.
Mara: Is Murtagh actually left handed?
Dienne: I’d have to go back and look, but Brom mentions something about the dominant hand being the one that has the Rider mark on it, or maybe it was that Riders preferred using the hand that had the mark to guide and control their magic when they use magic, something like that. But either way, there’s a subtle point made about “the left hand belongs to evil” somewhere in the story, and Eragon goes on to say it all makes sense that Murtagh turned out to be evil like his dad, because the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I guess?
Mara: Which, again, he forgets everything, all the shit that Murtagh went through, and automatically goes “Oh, he’s evil now, shoulda known.”
Dienne: Yup. Sanctimonious little weasel, isn’t he?
Anyway, it’s now springtime in Algalag, if anyone cares. At some point time just seems to freeze and the rest of the story takes place in a single season, so unless Alagaesia is suddenly experiencing Game of Thrones-esque weather, I don’t see how this is possible. But for right now, it’s spring.
They’ve been riding for an undisclosed amount of time, but Brom eventually says they’re close to Leona Lake and that it’s two leagues ahead of them. How he knows that isn’t explained and no character thinks to ask. Eragon wants to know if they’ll get there before nightfall and Brom says they can try. Dusk soon falls, and instead of stopping to wait for their eyes to adjust or waiting for the moon to rise, they keep going despite not being able to see anything well (which is how horses get injured - they fall in a hole their rider didn’t see or they trip over something they didn’t see) but apparently the river provides enough of a guide to keep them going in the right direction without issue until the moon comes up and they can see again. Then they reach the Lake.
Leona Lake looked like a thin sheet of silver beaten over the land. The water was so calm and smooth it did not even seem to be liquid. Aside from a bright strip of moonlight reflecting off the surface, it was indistinguishable from the ground. Saphira was on the rocky shore, fanning her wings to dry them. Eragon greeted her and she said, The water is lovely—deep, cool, and clear.
Time out. How can it be a thin sheet of silver and yet be indistinguishable from the ground? Does he mean the shore? Or the edges of the lake? Like, it can’t be described as both things.
Maybe I’ll go swimming tomorrow, he responded. They set up camp under a stand of trees and were soon asleep.
At dawn, Eragon eagerly rushed out to see the lake in daylight. A whitecapped expanse of water rippled with fan-shaped patterns where wind brushed it. The pure size of it delighted him. He whooped and ran to the water. Saphira, where are you? Let’s have some fun!
Yes... we’re trying to stay on the downlow, we’re near civilization, and the first idea that pops into your head is to have some fun. It’s not like you’re being hunted by enemies or anything, or that someone might see you and report your presence, it’s to have fun. What. The. Hell.
So our two idiots go swimming. Why? Because they can. It’s not like they’re on a high-traffic lake which is used by countless fishermen and barges transporting goods up and down the lakeside. Oh, wait, yes they are! Except these fishermen and barges apparently are conveniently absent while they take their swim because of course they are. Realism, what’s that? So Saphira dives deep and spends quite a while under water before Eragon starts to need air again, so she explodes out of the lake and takes to the air, and Eragon’s gushing about how great that experience was. Saphira’s response? Such a shame you have tiny lungs.
Nothing I can do about that, he said, pressing water out of his hair. His clothes were drenched, and the wind from Saphira’s wings chilled him. He pulled at his splint—his wrist itched.
Well, there is... it’s called magic. Also - and I know this is 21st century science talking here - but if your arm is wrapped in a splint to allow your bones to heal properly, why the fuck are you getting that splint wet? Second, what possesses you to think diving into water with a broken wrist is a good idea?
Well, Eragon dries off like he went through a tumble dryer, and they get underway again while Saphira the giant sparkly disco ball plays in the water. Then there’s a bit of a time skip to night, and Eragon begins this paragraph by using magic to dull Zar’roc’s edge. Then he and Brom stare at each other, not moving an inch. Which is not how dueling is supposed to work, but at this point everything Eragon’s learned is wrong, so this is just par for the course. They get to fighting at last, and the sword fight turns into a wrestling match. Then Eragon swipes his sword at Brom’s shins, and I’m reminded of a quote from The Dragon Prince where Prince Callum is told by Soren that a leg strike is not a thing in sword fighting, and eventually Eragon starts to gain the advantage over Brom and ends up disarming him. Brom then says they’re done for the day.
“But we just started,” said Eragon, startled.
Brom shook his head. “I can teach you nothing more of the sword. Of all the fighters I’ve met, only three of them could have defeated me like that, and I doubt any of them could have done it with their left hand.” He smiled ruefully. “I may not be as young as I used to be, but I can tell that you’re a talented and rare swordsman.”
Talented, yes. Rare, maybe. But the only reason Eragon is this good is because he’s a self-insert. Only four months have passed since he left the valley, and in those four months, he’s mastered swordsmanship with both hands? No way. Bullshit. It’s inconceivable. You can get experience in four months, yes, but you’re not going to become a master of anything, even if you do have talent. Besides that, you have to nurture that talent, continue learning and growing. Practice. This makes absolutely no sense.
“Does this mean we’re not going to spar every night?” asked Eragon.
“Oh, you’re not getting out of it,” laughed Brom. “But we’ll go easier now. It’s not as important if we miss a night here or there.” He wiped his brow. “Just remember, if you ever have the misfortune to fight an elf—trained or not, female or male—expect to lose. They, along with dragons and other creatures of magic, are many times stronger than nature intended. Even the weakest elf could easily overpower you. The same goes for the Ra’zac—they are not human and tire much more slowly than we do.”
And any human who’s studied the blade their entire life. But wait, you’ll beat them just on the grace of being a Rider alone, because you can physically overpower them. And that’s basically just what Brom told Eragon - the elf doesn’t have to be particularly skilled, they just have to physically overpower him. So he’s essentially called the elves bullies and taught Eragon how to be a bully. Wonderful.
Eragon wonders if there’s any way to become the equal of an elf, Saphira compliments him, and Brom answers his question by saying yes, there are ways, but none are available to Eragon at the moment. Magic’s a great fallback, but it won’t really do anything for you. He’ll need Saphira and a great deal of luck, Brom says. Because apparently when creatures of magic actually do magic, they can accomplish things that can kill a human, because of those enhanced abilities. Except dragons, who can’t use this magic of theirs at will, so screw them, apparently. Eragon then asks how one fights with magic. Uh... you cast Magic Missile? Or better yet, Sheep your opponent and laugh as they walk around dazed for ten seconds because they’re a freaking sheep. Baaaaaaa. Not that World of Warcraft magic-theory exists in this world, which is sad. Personally I think Eragon wouldn’t last ten seconds in Azeroth. Anyway, Eragon then has to explain himself to Brom, saying if he was attacked by a Shade, for example (because Shades are apparently more prolific than elves?) how would he block the Shade’s magic? He goes on to describe how most spells kick in immediately upon their cast, which makes it impossible to react in time to deflect or defend against them. And even if he was fast enough, how would he nullify an enemy’s magic. He doesn’t see how it could be done.
Brom gives another (in my mind) I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-this sigh, and mentions what Eragon’s talking about is classified as a ‘wizard’s duel’ (no it’s not) and is extremely dangerous. Why, haven’t you wondered how Galby was able to defeat all of the Riders with the help of only twelve other guys? Eragon says he never thought about it. Seriously? Seriously. You never thought about how thirteen people defeated an order that consisted of thousands and thousands of dragons? You don’t even have a “because magic” reason? ...Is everyone in this country that dumb? Wait. Don’t answer that. Brom then says that there are several ways, which Eragon will learn about “later”, but the main one is that Galby was, and is, a master of breaking into people’s minds and learning their dirty secrets. Apparently there are strict rules that govern a wizard’s duel or both participants die. Galby, though, is above the rules because he’s EVIL and rules are for squares, anyway. Step one is apparently no one uses magic until one of the participants gains access to the other’s mind.
Yeah, I’m about as confused as you are, because this sounds suspiciously like an honor system. Saphira apparently gets some screen time to ask a similar question, saying why should you bother to wait? By the time your opponent realizes you’ve attacked, it’s too late for them to counter. Brom tells her she’s wrong. Apparently even if, for example, Brom was to suddenly attack Eragon with his magic, Eragon would have a few scant seconds with which he could counterattack before he inevitably died. Therefore, unless one side has a death wish, neither side attacks until one of them has breached the other’s defenses. I’m still confused. It still sounds like an honor system, because if Mage A is in Mage B’s mind, doesn’t that, by default, mean that Mage A has already breached Mage B’s defenses? Anyway, according to Brom, once you’re inside your enemy’s mind, it’s really easy to anticipate what they’ll do and how to stop them, but if you’re too slow to figure out a counterspell, which means you have to be able think really fast (like on the level of Edward Elric and how fast he runs through alchemical formulas in his head), you’re dead. This... this is not magic combat.
Also the idea of FUCKING WARDS negates this entirely.
“It sounds difficult.”
“Extremely,” confirmed Brom. A plume of smoke rose from his pipe. “Seldom can people survive such a duel for more than a few seconds. The enormous amount of effort and skill required condemns anyone without the proper training to a quick death. Once you’ve progressed, I’ll start teaching you the necessary methods. In the meantime, if you ever find yourself facing a wizards’ duel, I suggest you run away as fast as you can.”
Which Eragon never finds himself facing. This only appears once in the story and both participants die as a result. So, the idea of a wizard’s duel is just a fancy way of committing murder/suicide. Neither party really wins, because you have to give each other control of your minds. Literally, one person takes control of the other person, and then they wait around for the other person to take control of their mind, so each can read each other’s thoughts and hopefully think fast enough to counterattack. But even if you kill your opponent, you’re in that person’s mind at the moment of their death, and so you could die as a result of the trauma. Your body feels death, it reacts accordingly. Also, what’s stopping someone from just slitting the spellcasters’ throats? Seriously. Also, any competent mage wouldn’t be taken by surprise by a spell designed to kill them, Brom. They’d either ward against it or shield in that split second, and then counterattack. Like no mage in the history of any story with magic fights this way. Gandalf and Saruman didn’t. Harry Potter didn’t, and his was actually called a wizard’s duel. Final Fantasy doesn’t work like this, nor any book I’ve ever read or game I’ve ever played.
Also, the entire explanation is crap because in the final battle of the story, mages that find themselves fighting in Uru’baen aren’t fighting against other mages - they’re fighting against soldiers, machines of war, etc - and so they aren’t involved in these ‘wizards’ duels’. Granted, because Galbatorix used a spell to keep their spells from working within the walls of the city, they’re fucked either way, but when the spells do work, they’re still not entering any duels with Galbatorix’s pet mages, otherwise all the Varden’s mages would be dead. And they’d be dead anyway, because, as it’s stated by Angela, all of the Varden’s mages can barely heal a bruise, and if the rules Paolini applied to his magic are still in effect, them trying to use magic to break down a wall or a house would kill them. And also by this example, any spellcaster that does enter a wizard’s duel with another mage would be an elf, which means that enemy would be dead from the get-go, because no one can match an elf for strength and creativity with the ancient language.
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(Anonymous) 2020-08-07 08:04 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
(Anonymous) 2020-08-08 03:28 am (UTC)(link)I suppose if we're being generous to Paolini, it could also be to figure out the opponent's wards so you can cast the appropriate spell to kill them, and Brom doesn't want to teach Eragon about wards at the moment for... some reason. Yeah, they likely weren't a concept yet.