Red Brick Commentary

[mara_dienne459]

What do you do when you're stuck between a rock and a hard place? Plan to steal a ship, I guess. 

Chapter Fifty-One: Teirm

 

This chapter opens with a description of the land. The second paragraph of the chapter has Roran’s party walking through random properties that now surround Teirm - properties that Eragon and Brom should’ve passed - doing whatever they can to remain undetected. They go far, far out of their way to make it look like they’re coming from a direction opposite than where they really are, and follow the south road toward Teirm once they reach it.

 

During his time on the Red Boar, it had occurred to Roran that officials in Narda might have deduced that whoever killed the two guards was among the men who left upon Clovis’s barges. If so, messengers would have warned Teirm’s soldiers to watch for anyone matching the villagers’ descriptions. And if the Ra’zac had visited Narda, then the soldiers would also know that they were looking not just for a handful of murderers but Roran Stronghammer and the refugees from Carvahall. Teirm could be one huge trap. Yet they could not bypass the city, for the villagers needed supplies and a new mode of transportation. 

 

How? How could messengers get to Teirm ahead of the barges? If that was the case, why didn’t the village just barter for wagons and horses and go overland? It would’ve been faster, according to Roran’s thought process here. Also, they might not have figured that the killer was among the group on the barges. They could’ve decided it was an Urgal attack, or that the murderer fled into the forest, or ran away into the wilderness. I have to say, the fact that Roran thinks of these things after the fact bothers me. Instead of taking the time to think about what consequences his actions might have, he just acts and thinks later. And in some situations that’s great, but not in these that Roran seems to keep finding himself in where he decides he has to kill people just because they might recognize him. I mean, that’s the thought process of a psycho killer. A sociopath. Also, I like how his thought processes also create this sense of danger and tension, but it’s a false sense of danger and tension. Nothing awful ever happens. They always have just enough time to do something or someone comes along to save their bacon. Roran never really finds himself on the losing end where if he doesn’t do something brilliantly stupid, he’s going to die. And in some cases of writing this story, sure, create false tension and build things up so your readers can curse your name because you pulled a fast one on them. But reward them with a situation where they can curse your name for surprising the shit out of them with a twist they didn’t predict was coming. I can already predict what’s going to happen in the rest of this book plus the last two, not because I’ve read them already, but because all of these characters and scenarios are so cookie-cutter that you can predict what’s going to happen and then not be surprised that the heroes win and the bad guys lose.

 

Roran had decided that their best precaution against capture was to send no one into Teirm who had been seen in Narda, except for Gertrude and himself—Gertrude because only she understood the ingredients for her medicines, and Roran because, though he was the most likely to be recognized, he trusted no one else to do what was required. He knew he possessed the will to act when others hesitated, like the time he slew the guards. The rest of the group was chosen to minimize suspicion. Loring was old but a tough fighter and an excellent liar. Birgit had proven herself canny and strong, and her son, Nolfavrell, had already killed a soldier in combat, despite his tender age. Hopefully, they would appear as nothing more than an extended family traveling together. That is, if Mandel doesn’t throw the scheme awry, thought Roran. 

 

Well, he killed the guards because he’s a sociopathic asshole. The one guard was hinting that he recognized Roran, but that would be impossible, unless he was able to see bone structure and look beneath all the travel grime and the unkept hair and beard that has grown in. So when Roran killed the guard, in that split second, the guard knew he was right. If Roran had just been like “What are you talking about?” and played it cool, that whole scene didn’t have to happen. And as far as Nolfravell killing a guard, we don’t actually know that he did. We saw him sitting on a guard’s body stabbing it repeatedly with a knife, but we don’t actually know if he took the guard down himself or came across somebody else’s kill and just was venting his frustration. And that last line, about Mandel screwing it all up, that’s something Roran should’ve considered before inviting him along. Like this is what I don’t get. The characters in this story make a decision, and then a few paragraphs later go “Well, hopefully this doesn’t screw me over” or “I shouldn’t have done that” or “Why didn’t I think of that?” I mean, if this was a first draft, I’d forgive it, because it could be fixed, but this isn’t the first draft. This is an already-published thing.

 

We’re told that it was Roran’s idea to enter Teirm from the south, because of course it was, and apparently this tactic will make people think it’s unlikely that they’d be from Narda’s direction. They arrive in Teirm at the evening, and Roran stops to inspect the land. Teirm is described - it’s impregnable to any attack “conceivable” attack - and there’s the citadel, the ocean, the lighthouse, blah blah blah. Nolfy is shocked that it’s so big. So is everyone else. Roran, however, is too fascinated with a random ship that’s docked in the wharf. He helpfully describes the ship for us - it’s huge with three masts, a high forecastle, two banks of oarlocks, and twelve ballistae on the deck meant for shooting javelins. Apparently it’s suited either for commerce or war. Not that Roran cares. He’s like well, that might be able to hold the entire village. My prayers have been answered! So he points to the ship and says that’s what they need. Birgit says they’d have to sell themselves into slavery to get passage on it. And that’s the end of that conversation. It quickly moves on to them hurrying to get into Teirm because the gates close at sunset and they arrived in the outskirts of Teirm in the evening, no specific time given. When they get close, there’s apparently a lot of people hurrying in and out of Teirm.

 

Huh. I wonder where all these people were when Eragon and Brom were here.

 

Anyway, Roran is like this is great. Having so many people around will help conceal his party from “unwanted attention”. He beckons to Mandel and tells him to drop back a little bit and follow someone else through the gate. Roran doesn’t want him traveling in with the original group, but they’ll wait for him on the other side of the gate. If anyone asks, he’s to say he’s come seeking employment as a seaman. So Mandel does and Roran does his best impression of Igor and heads into Teirm.

 

The gate loomed ahead, washed in uncertain orange from the torches placed in sconces on each side of the entrance. Underneath stood a pair of soldiers with Galbatorix’s twisting flame stitched onto the front of their crimson tunics. Neither of the armed men so much as glanced at Roran and his companions as they shuffled underneath the spiked portcullis and through the short tunnel beyond. 

 

Okay, I don’t get this. When Eragon and Brom show up, they’re the only two people that are going in to the city? And they’re the only ones who get stopped and questioned by the guards? But when Roran and his group show up, suddenly there’s incredibly high traffic and the guards don’t even bother? That doesn’t make any sense, especially now, when Roran is being hunted. The guards should be stopping every young man that’s approximately the same age as Roran and questioning them. I mean, Roran’s a criminal, right? You’d think the guards would be interested in protecting their city from a murderer and whatever else Roran is claimed to be. Beyond that, a fortune is being offered for him, so you’d think that these poor people, these oppressed people, would jump at a chance to find him to be given more money than they could ever hope to earn in their entire lifetime. Except they’re not. Nobody is looking for Roran. Nobody bothers to stop Roran and question him. Nobody bothers to do anything. It’s like the RNG’s are looking over Roran’s shoulder, ensuring he rolls a 20 for sneaking, a 20 for disguise, and a 20 for luck. 

 

They get in without incident because of course they do. Mandel joins them and they go find some random hostel to stay the night. Roran observes the city as they go and thinks to himself that if Carvahall had been built like this, no one could’ve defeated them. Honey, if Carvahall was built like this, you’d be starved out because there’s nowhere for you to escape. Teirm at least has the ocean to escape to, provided the attack doesn’t come from that side. They find lodging at the Green Chestnut, which is the same exact tavern Brom and Eragon stopped off at when they arrived in Teirm, so yay, consistency. However, unlike Brom and Eragon’s brief stint there, Roran describes it as a “vile tavern with atrocious ale and flea-infested beds”. I give it a pass because Brom and Eragon didn’t actually drink anything there nor did they stay there, either. The group goes to bed together in a big dogpile because they don’t want their stuff being stolen by anyone else staying in the tavern. There’s a time skip to the next day, and the group is now searching the city for provisions and transportation.

 

Gertrude pipes up and says she’s heard tell of - ugh - Angela the herbalist and she wants to go meet her. Why? How the hell has Gertrude heard about Angela? If Gertrude has heard about Angela, the whole village should know about Angela. Anyway, Gertrude says Angela is amazing because of course she is. At least she’s right about Angela being knowledgable about herbcraft and stuff like that. Roran sends Mandel with her and gives him a speech on being inconspicuous. Then they’re out of the chapter and we’re left with Roran and his remaining party members going back to their search. Roran’s apparent infinite patience begins to run out when he continuously is foiled at every turn and life doesn’t work out the way he wants. They’re too poor to do anything, really. They don’t have enough to hire the big ship - the Dragon Wing, as it’s called - and they can’t afford even the “meanest” ship there at the docks. Oh, and stealing the barges is still off the table because they have no idea what they would eat on their journey.

 

Because having creature comforts like good food while you’re on the run from the authorities is so important.

 

Anyway, the consensus the group comes to is that thievery is impossible. There are too many eyes everywhere. We’re told Roran had suggested to Horst that they could raid for their supplies if they needed to, but doing so would only make them as terrible as those who they’re fighting against. Which I have yet to see in this entire story. So far, it’s been Roran and his group being evil and the Varden doing questionable things. I suppose this little aside is supposed to show that Roran isn’t the biggest douchebag in all of Algalag and he has regrets about doing what’s needed to survive, but hey, Roran promised he’d take care of the village and that’s what he’s going to do. After he whines for a paragraph about how he’s doomed everybody and even if he absconds on his own, he’d be leaving behind the village to be enslaved by the Empire. He says screw it, I’m going to stay with everyone else to whatever end we meet.

 

Well the group gets hungry so they stop at a bakery and buy a loaf of bread and a small pot of honey (which I’m fairly certain was quite expensive) and Loring happens to ask the baker’s apprentice where they could find ships and stuff like that. Cue deus ex machina random infodump person. Said gentleman engages Roran in conversation and says they might want to attend the auction. Roran is curious. Infodump Man launches into his story:

 

“Ah, it’s a sad story, it is, but all too common nowadays. One of our merchants, Jeod—Jeod Longshanks, as we call him out of hearing—has had the most abominable run of bad luck. In less than a year, he lost four of his ships, an’ when he tried to send his goods over land, the caravan was ambushed and destroyed by some thieving outlaws. His investors forced him to declare bankruptcy, and now they’re going to sell his property to recoup their losses. I don’t know ’bout food, but you’d be sure to find most everything else you’re looking to buy at the auction.” 

 

I do enjoy that Jeod is the only person who’s suffering now, even though he says in Book One that he isn’t the only one suffering. But he’s the only one we care about, I guess. And I do enjoy that Roran and the others decide to buy food with their remaining money but they’re struggling over whether or not they’ll be able to buy supplies for the rest of their journey. It doesn’t make any sense. It also doesn’t make any sense that they’d resort to villainy and stealing just to survive, considering these people are supposed to be incredible hunters and gatherers. Like you don’t survive in the frontier just by farming. You hunt and forage, but I guess Eragon was the only one who could do that. None of this is real, I swear. 

 

Roran starts feeling the burn of hope in his chest and asks where this auction is. Infodump Man tells him it’s only been on every message board in the city! Roran’s like oh, yeah. Then he tells us that they avoided the boards on purpose so as to limit those who would recognize Roran if he was standing next to his Wanted poster. Roran thanks Infodump Man and rejoins his companions and they talk about it. He asks everyone their opinions, which they don’t have any, really, and they go to see Jeod. The one bit of that paragraph I like is where Roran is awestruck by the wealth of this part of the neighborhood. He can’t even begin to comprehend having such riches and his amazed by the difference in his life compared to the lives of the people here.

 

Roran knocked on the front door to Jeod’s mansion, which stood next to an abandoned shop. After a moment, the door was pulled open by a plump butler garnished with overly shiny teeth. He eyed the four strangers upon his doorstep with disapproval, then flashed his glazed smile and asked, “How may I help you, sirs and madam?” 

 

Okay... why is it that when Brom and Eragon arrive, it’s Jeod’s wife who answers the door, but with Roran, it’s the butler? Why is there no consistency here? And why is there even a butler now anyway? Jeod has no money to pay the guy and the butler doesn’t come with him and his wife when they flee with Roran later. So why is this guy even here? I could see if he was an agent of the bankruptcy company sent to make sure Jeod and Helen don’t skimp off with the valuables in the middle of the night, but not a servant. Especially when there are no other servants around. It doesn’t make sense.

 

Roran says he wants to talk with Jeod, he doesn’t have an appointment, and the butler tells them all to go away. Roran stops him by saying they have a business proposition for Jeod, and that’s their ticket inside, once the butler gets done being a smug asshole and is told to let the visitors inside to see his master.

Comments

[epistler]

Uh, didn't Roran tell everyone that if he wasn't back by nightfall it was time to panic? Then why is he now blithely booking a room for the night without even trying to send a messenger? And why is he wasting his money on expensive honey when they're supposed to be broke?

[mara_dienne459]

He did, but... apparently Paolini doesn't take notes as he's writing or goes back and rereads what he wrote earlier. So my guess is he forgot that he wrote those orders and just went to town writing whatever he felt like.

[epistler]

And nobody on the editing team at Knopf even noticed. Shoddy, shoddy work, guys. This isn't the only whacking great continuity error in the book either.

[ultimate_cheetah]

Or the series. Ra'zac can track Eragon and Brom down from Dras-Leona and knock him out, but somehow, they keep missing 20 people who are acting TOTALLY CONSPICUOUS. Roran should've been carried off by now.

[epistler]

Then there's the paralysing breath weapon they never use, the super jumping ability they likewise never use, the supposedly super smart parent mounts that never do anything... if it weren't for the constant moronic contrivances Paolini keeps throwing in, the villages would have all snuffed it months ago and Roran would be in the imperial dungeons where he belongs.

Like I said in my own spork, Paolini's villains are so pathetically ineffectual they might as well not exist.

[ultimate_cheetah]

Then there's the paralysing breath weapon they never use, the super jumping ability they likewise never use, the supposedly super smart parent mounts that never do anything... if it weren't for the constant moronic contrivances Paolini keeps throwing in, the villages would have all snuffed it months ago and Roran would be in the imperial dungeons where he belongs.

It's so frustrating. I like the idea of the Ra'zac, but most of my liking for them comes from me imagining my own take on them, and what they would be like if they had been the feared enforcers of the empire.

I like to imagine the Ra'zac bursting in, and arresting Roran, and whoever's with him. Then, I like to imagine that Roran gets tortured in one of the imperial dungeons, (one of the Ra'zac is pretty miffed at him) while the bribed guard "conveniently" takes a break.

Like I said in my own spork, Paolini's villains are so pathetically ineffectual they might as well not exist.

It's like they're all on meth. Come to think of it, it would make way more sense if the IC was a Breaking Bad conflict. The elves, one of the Ra'zac, and Roran all run different meth cartels, and they fight each other while trying to survive in the war between the Empire and the Varden. Eragon got into the meth, and that's why he started his rampage across the country. Meanwhile, both Galby and Nasuada want to crack down on these cartels...

[epistler]

It's so frustrating. I like the idea of the Ra'zac, but most of my liking for them comes from me imagining my own take on them, and what they would be like if they had been the feared enforcers of the empire.

Understandable - they could so easily have been these super badass, genuinely terrifying villains/monsters, but Paolini completely wastes them.

[ultimate_cheetah]

Understandable - they could so easily have been these super badass, genuinely terrifying villains/monsters, but Paolini completely wastes them.

He wastes everything.

Durza: Rogue agent, pretending to be loyal to the king, but instead is the head of a massive conspiracy. The king suspects him, but doesn't know that's he's recruited people from many places, including inside the Varden, and one of the Ra'zac.

Lethrblaka: If you think the Ra'zac are bad, you do not want to deal with them. They like to use their power as heads of Helgrind to manipulate entire cities, but when they go into battle, unless you're a rider or a Shade, you don't stand a chance.

Ra'zac: Enforcers. Go around, hunting high-level traitors and dissidents. Are also considered gods, so if you insult one... One is nicer, and more forgiving, but still dangerous. However, if you get on the bad side of the other one, either your secrets will be spilled, or you will mysteriously die after eating dinner. If the Ra'zac drag you to Helgrind, expect to never be heard from again.

Dwarven Politics: Rife with assassinations. Eragon can't go two steps without possibly getting shanked.