Hi, my name is Swisherboy19. I was searching through some old scrolls I found in this box in an old attic in Carvahall. This house I found - wow. It has a library containing scrolls about dragons and evil kings. This must be old. Our King now, Bret Stronghammer, is a loving, forgiving king. I found this old shack hidden in the forest in the valley east of the Spine. It is, as the people call it nowadays, the "old Carvahall", home of the legendary Eragon Shadeslayer. I believe the story of Eragon is a myth. Isn't it "convenient" how, considering that no dragons have been seen in centuries, Eragon and Arya Shadeslayer left Alagaesia forever with the last of the dragons? Ha! It's obviously an old folk tale with an ending tagged to it to make it seem real. Don't you agree? Anyway, I'm straying off topic. In this man's library in old Carvahall were scrolls of magic and dragons. I'm not sure who's shack it is... I found a few items with names on them. The names were Brom and Selena. I guess they must have lived here. Whoever they were. Anyway, in the attic I found this amazing scroll that kept me captivated for weeks. Using my new computer that some scientists from Daret invented, I will post one chapter a week to the internet from the scrolls. Long live the Stronghammer Line! Roran, Carn, Carn II, Roran II, Roran III, George, Herold, Carn III, Roran IV, Brun, Krix, and Bret. (For those of you not from Alagaesia, it is customary we end each of our letters with the Stronghammer line, a millennia of peace for Alagaesia.)
Beginning here is the scroll I found.
Long ago, the dwarves roamed the land. There was only the land; there was no separation of boarders, there were no known lands over the sea. The dwarves never saw the sea. Before long, the dwarves started encountering fierce beasts, aloft by mighty wings. The beasts came in all colors and sizes. Some grew as large as mountains. Others as small as wolves. Of course, the dwarves knew enough to assume that the wolf-sized beasts were infants of the race. The beasts were notorious for eating the dwarves livestock, and the livestock was easily stolen with the beasts' large talons and fangs. The beasts, of course, were dragons. My name is Godregin, a worshiper of the mighty Helgrind. What you, the reader of my account, just read was a brief history of the land. My story begins when a group of grey folk approached my sanctuary with a man they called Han. Interesting people, those grey folk. They all looked the same: they had long, grey beards, and toneless skin. They actually had no noses,in its place was just a puff of beard. They all had grey eyes, with no definition between iris and pupil: it was just white with a big grey circle in the middle. They spoke in a strange tongue in monotone. When they did speak the language of humans, their accent was heavy. They made a trilling sound with their tongues for the letter "r", much like the dwarves I have encountered. Their voices were raspy. I had a friend whose father was a grey folk and his mother a human. He was, indeed, strange. He could not have children, no matter how hard he and his mistress tried. These grey folk - they were not human. They handed Han to us, the worshipers of Helgrind, and then they were gone. I never saw a grey folk again. I looked at Han. He looked slightly like a grey folk. I couldn't tell what he was. I found him an interesting lad, and decided to devote my life to documenting his travels. I figured it would make an excellent tale one day. Let me tell you now, Han was one of a kind. He encountered dragons, slayed urgals, burned villages, and adventures many more. I will begin the story on the day Han escaped our compound, and will try to my best ability to refrain speaking in the first person, for secretly I followed Han around everywhere he went, in order to record the events of his mystical life.
Chapter 2 - coming soon