Murtagh Spork: Part 2 Chapter 8 - Masks

[epistler]

And here we are again with chapter 8, “Masks”.

Masks which will of course not have anything to do with the chapter or book unless it’s a reference to Morontagh posing as someone else in which case harhar, very droll. Of course in reality Morontagh is posing as Murtagh. Poorly.

There have been some massive storms here lately which has made flying impossible at times, but Chinook and I have succeeded at last: Sloan is free and we’re taking him with us. Our guide has returned, and reluctantly agreed to help us bring the poor guy to the new Carp Hat to be reunited with Katrina.

For now, the two of them are chatting while the thunder crashes outside the cave we’re sheltering in, and Chinook and I have some time to spork this undoubtedly stupid and aggravating chapter.

Chinook: What did we do to deserve this?

Good question. But before we get on with the chapter proper, we’ve come up with a theory as to just why this poorly edited book had ten editors. Because trust me, nobody has that many editors for a single book. As far as I know, and I’m pretty knowledgeable about this business, it’s unprecedented.

Well, our theory is making more and more sense and none of it flattering to Paolini to say the least.

We think he had that many editors because they kept giving up, quitting, and passing the manuscript on to the next lucky contestant. So in other words he managed to churn through ten editors who kept losing patience with his whiny argumentative ass and probably his terrible unsalveagable book as well.

Not exactly bragging material now, is it?

Anyway, having gotten his ass cheered and applauded at the end of the last chapter for beating “Gert” (is it really a good idea to have a character by that name when we already have a Gertrude?) Morontagh opens this one by picking up his bedroll (why did he bring that?) and following Gertie, who asks him where he got that good with a sword.

Morontagh lies about how there was a retired soldier in his “village” who taught him while he was growing up. Which is a stupid lie and he even knows it because:

The skills Murtagh had demonstrated hardly matched those of the average foot soldier.

Well no, an actual trained swordsman wouldn’t have fought that incompetently or needed to resort to cheating in order to win.

But Gert had the good manners not to inquire further.

You mean he hasn’t got the brains to do it because that would inconvenience the idiot protagonist.

Anyway, Gertie just grunts rudely at him and escorts him to a room where the “cap’n” (oh brother) is hanging out. Gertie asks for permission to come in and gets the standard villain one-word response of “enter”.

As Terry Pratchett once pointed out, if someone says this in response to being asked can you come in, run the hell away and don’t stop to pack because they are definitely going to be bad news.

Then we get the standard “hero is tersely told to wait outside”, I guess so he can hang around describing the scenery to no purpose. Like who fucking cares that there’s a “planter” of “dried baby’s breath”? And why would Morontagh even care? Why are these the sorts of things he makes note of? We’re also informed that he’s made to wait “for over ten minutes” because I guess he owns a wristwatch.

Finally Gertie comes out and says he can go in. Yeah, that interlude really added a lot.

Also where is the damn fish head right now?

We get a description of the office which is fairly plain and has a bunch of scrolls and maps. There’s also a map table “pinned with small flags”, right out of Skyrim. If this guy isn’t actively leading a campaign and the country is not currently at war, why does he have this? Flags implies troops being moved around. What for? Why are they out in the field like this? Paolini even uses the term “soldiers”. This guy is a guard captain. Which is not the same thing as a military commander.

Anyway, so then we get a description of the captain. It’s not important but Morontagh does the usual bad fantasy protagonist thing where he somehow deduces the guy’s personality just by looking at him. Oh and we also get a sentence about how good his nails are because Paolini has added “describing nails” to his list of weird obsessions and is still riding that train.

We also learn that the guy has really bad arthritis in both hands, which is every bit as irrelevant, and if his hands are basically unusable wouldn’t he have been invalided out of the guards by now?

Now for the reason behind this chapter’s title, I guess.

On the wall behind the captain was the room’s most notable feature: two lines of wooden masks mounted on the stone. They weren’t the ornate party masks of the aristocracy, with which Murtagh was well acquainted. Rather, they were rough, barbaric-looking creations that evoked the faces of different animals: the bear, the wolf, the fox, the raven, and so forth, including two animals that he didn’t recognize. In style and execution, they resembled no tradition he was familiar with; if pressed, he would have said they had been crafted with the crudest of stone tools.

And yet the masks had a certain entrancing power; Murtagh found his gaze drawn to them as a lodestone drawn to a bar of iron.

If you think these masks will ever be explained or play even a minor role in the plot, think again. Also the “party masks” bit bugs me because once again the nobility in this thing just do not fit the same time period as the commoners. Masked balls are, if I’m not mistaken, not something people did in medieval times, no matter how rich. This isn’t 16-17^th century Venice, Chris. But no, he’s going to continue with this kick as well, going on about all the fancy dances and such that were now suddenly going on at Galby’s court.

And no, I have no idea why he’s so fascinated by these irrelevant masks. I mean at least have him swipe one to use as a disguise or something.

Having apparently just sat there waiting for Morontagh to get done with all this, the captain finally asks how he killed Mr Fishy. Morontagh has a prepared lie this time and tells him how Mr Fishy grabbed him, etc. He just leaves out all the dragon related stuff. He also does it using obnoxiously mannered “commoner” vernacular. Oh yeah. A guy with the sword skills of a nobleman who talks like a phoney commoner; they’ll never see past this cunning disguise.

The captain, who we now know is named Captain Wren but who fucking cares, says nice work and pays him a reward of four gold. Morontagh, who hadn’t bothered to come up with a new pseudonym in advance, gets put on the spot and introduces himself as “Task Ivorsson”. Oh yeah, because that’s totally a real name.

He also gets all worked up over the fact that now the money has Nausea’s head on it. Boy, that was quick. And oh it’s such a great likeness and she’s so beautiful and he gets an ache in his heart as he touches the design. Aww, twagic womance – just what everyone loves.

Wren asks if he’s seen the queen before and Morontagh says “not as such” then yet again berates himself for giving a stupid reply that might raise suspicions. But of course it doesn’t. Wren tells him the new coins started circulating at the end of winter, which is decently well thought-out, and that sooner or later all the old currency would be replaced.

Morontagh thinks about how “It made sense. Nasuada would hardly want images of Galbatorix circulating throughout the land for the rest of her reign.”

Yeah, yeah, boo hiss Galby was the most evil guy ever, we get it.

Wren asks why he wants to enlist and what’s his employment history if you know what I mean and this is a loaded question because did he serve under Galby or the Varden? Morontagh avoids the question and they leave it unresolved because most of the conscripts were set free by our noble hero Eragon and went home but there are plenty of people who still hate the Varden, no surprises there.

He then gets asked about his training:

“As a footman, but I’m better with a blade than a spear or pike, and I’m more than passable with a bow.”

But is he more than proficient at the exquisite art of the samurai sword?

First off, a footman is a nobleman’s servant, not a soldier. He should be using the term “foot soldier” or "man at arms". Second, foot soldiers would be primarily using spears and pikes, not swords.

And third, why are they being this picky about their new recruits? The city was half destroyed by an attacking army and a GIANT DRAGON about a year ago – their numbers should have been absolutely decimated. They should still be trying to get their numbers back up, sending young men in for training and such, not acting like this is an elitist military academy that’s only taking the best of the best. The best would by now be largely six feet under or rotting in Glaedr’s stomach. What, did everyone else have to go and kill a giant fishy first?

“And why are you looking to serve again, Task? Yes, you wish to be of use. But why now? I assume you’ve not marched under a banner since Ilirea.”

Dude, why do you even fucking care?

Morontagh now claims to be from a village called “Cantos” – gosh, the very same one Galby ordered him to destroy once upon a time, causing him to finally flee the capital! What a rich tapestry this story weaves. It’s since been destroyed anyway, so of course that’s a perfect sob story to cover his ass. If, at least in my opinion, really tasteless.

The two of them commiserate a bit about what a hard war it were, and then there’s some blather about how Morontagh can use his existing kit, which he stupidly spills includes “a shirt of fine mail”. Yeah, in other words rich guy armour and no questions will be asked as to where he got it from.

The rest he’ll have to purchase but some can be provided… if he swears fealty to Queen Nausea and the unit under Wren’s command. This results in yet another of these moments:

A sick feeling formed in Murtagh’s stomach, and the back of his neck went cold. I should have realized.

But you didn’t because you never do and are determinedly trying to “should” yourself to death. God I hate him now.

Wren’s expression cleared. “Ah, I take your meaning. No, the queen does not believe in enforced loyalty. After all, a man’s word should be an unbreakable bond, no matter what language he speaks. One’s honor and reputation are more valuable than the greatest of riches, as I’m sure you agree.”

This is at least more or less implied to be hypocrisy on her part a bit further on, but this is still awfully convenient.

Of course, Morontagh whines about it anyway.

“Yes, sir.” Murtagh couldn’t help but think of his own reputation among the common folk, and he suppressed a grimace.

Shut the fuck up.

He finally says yeah, sure he’ll do it, then gets given a bunch of pointless details about when you get paid, going on leave, blah blah blah this has nothing to do with anything and did not need to be written out on the page! Yeah, I know, same goes for this entire awful book, no need to be a smartass and point it out in the comments.

Morontagh starts gurning at the masks again (why is he so obsessed with them??) and finally asks about them. Wren proudly explains that they were made by “nomads who frequent the grasslands” and who until this point did not exist. He says they have artisans who make “arcane objects that are unknown to the rest of us”. Except that they are known because you have a bunch of them right here.

He then demonstrates how they work by putting the bear mask on and shapeshifting into a werebear. He takes it off again and turns human saying it was just a “glamour” because now those exist too all of a sudden. He also says how animals freak the fuck out and indeed “go mad with fear” if they see you wearing one. Dogs and horses especially for some reason.

And then they get back to business as though nothing has happened and this will never come up again. It’s like Paolini just came up with this concept he thought was really neat (which it potentially is), threw it in at a random point, and then forgot all about it. I know, how unlike him.

Wren draws up a contract for him to sign, which he does so using the classic “I am illiterate” X. Yes, that’s really in there. People do this in Arglefart, apparently. Then he has to recite the oath of service which is written out in its entirety for no reason, complete with a pointless observation about Wren having good teeth as he welcomes Morontagh to his new job and sends him off to be “kitted out” and he’ll get given some FUCKING WARDS tomorrow. And the chapter ends.

And again, there are SO many better ways this could have been done. If Paolini actually bothered with continuity there would be plenty of people in Gilgalad who would think of Morontagh and Thorn as heroes and be all too happy to help them out. Or why not just use his authority as a Rider to get his way? He does have the right of any king or queen, after all, and what exactly is Nausea going to do about it? Have him arrested? Ask Arya to intervene?

If Morontagh were a regular guy then okay this might have worked, but he’s not. He’s a freaking Rider. He has a dragon. And yet he’s having “adventures” (let’s pretend) that aren’t appropriate to someone in that position. He’s essentially doing stuff that should be happening to a different character who isn’t a Rider and certainly isn’t Murtagh either. When your protagonist is a dragon rider they should be doing things that centre around that and the fact that they’re extremely powerful. But even Eragon didn’t get this, given how fucking worthless Saphira’s entire existence is, and now it’s happening with Morontagh as well except it’s orders of magnitude worse.

Next up is “Uniforms” which I’m already certain is going to be just as useless as this one was, but at least I don’t have to spork it.  

Comments

[torylltales]

I'm surprised Morontagh didn't give his name as Task Completed, because those are the words floating above his head once he got into the captain's office and completed this part of the side quest.


As to the huge disparity between Murtagh in book 4 and now: I'm reminded of a meme about unlocking the bad guy as a playable character after you've beaten the story mode

[epistler]

The RPG overtones are just getting worse with every book, aren't they? I mean it's just completely ridiculous.