Chapter Forty-Four: On the Wings of a Dragon

[pangolin20]

jair_greycoat wrote in antishurtugal, 2012-08-31 18:03:00

MOOD: happy


Chapter Forty-Four: On the Wings of a Dragon


The gist of this chapter is that Eragon, Saphira and Glaedr have left the Varden’s camp at mid-day, and are headed north over the Spine, to finally make a midnight landing somewhere on the shore by the ocean, between Teirm and Narda; it is a flight taking about twelve hours.
This chapter would have been genuinely decent if there weren’t so many little isolated (and easily fixable) problems with it.
Basically, this spork is a summary of the chapter, with my commentary included.


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The chapter starts off with Eragon riding on Saphira, and he is feeling his worries lessen. As the Varden’s blunt spearhead, they have killed hundreds of soldiers; to the
point where Eragon, at least, no longer feels like himself. Flying with his childhood friend, away from the Varden and the fighting, distracts him from all this, and calms them both of the stress of being forced by duty to cause so much bloodshed. In the air, there was no one who could order them to kill.
Wouldn’t it be great if that was what was said at the beginning of this chapter? Unfortunately, the following quote ruined it, in my opinion.
Riding a dragon was far from restful, but being so close to Saphira was calming for both him and her. The simple pleasure of physical contact comforted them in a way few things did.
There are plenty of things a good writer can say about a human and a dragon who are close friends--even when they’re telepathically linked. Making it seem like they’re a human couple desiring physical contact is not one of those things. I really, really wish that Paolini had paid more attention.
On the Varden’s behalf, he had killed hundreds of soldiers--few of whom had stood even the slightest chance of harming him—and though his actions had been justified, the memories troubled him.
Justified, yes (see Galbatorix’s crime record). But that does not mean the next ruler will be any better. Do the Varden have any decent plan in place on who is going to replace Galbatorix once they defeat him?
He did not want every fight to be desperate and every opponent to be his equal or his better--far from it--but at the same time, the easy slaughter of so many made him feel more like a butcher than a warrior.
That should have been cut. It adds nothing except confusion over Eragon’s character.
So Eragon and Company fly north over Leona Lake, high enough that Eragon needs a spell to protect himself from the cold. He watches the ever-changing patterns of sunlight reflected off the water toward Saphira, and thinks nothing else is quite like it. I can imagine it. If you’ve ever been on a boat on a lake in the very early morning, you can see the sunlight reflect off the waves almost as bright as the sun itself. However, as your altitude increases, the light changes. The reflections start to disappear and blend into each other. At a high enough altitude the reflections will simply appear as a bright, flat plane. Since they’re flying high enough for Eragon to need a spell against cold, I must also conclude that they are high enough that he couldn’t possibly see the constantly changing reflections. Hence, a failure in the description.
Plenty of birds fly by underneath them. Saphira is pleased when Eragon compares her with the fierce-looking hawks. Typical attitude for a dragon--no character points awarded for that!
Then they’re flying over the middle of the lake, and all they can see below them is the water that covers the surface of the earth. If you thought I meant that Leona Lake covers the whole earth, then you know how this sentence reads in the actual book. Does the narrative have to say silly things? It’s supposed to be from Eragon’s point of view, and he knows the lake has an edge.
Then they’re flying up to the edges of the Spine, over the western shore of Leona Lake, which gets referred to in the text as simply “the great lake”, which doesn’t help
very much with the reader’s understanding of just exactly where they are on the map. There are about six villages by the shores of the lake, but the people in them don’t see Saphira flying overhead because she and Company are invisible. Wait a minute. Just a few paragraphs ago they were being followed by some curious hawks, yet regular people can’t see them? There was no mention of Eragon changing the settings on the invisibility spell, either, mind you--not since they left the cloud back in the previous chapter with Eragon, called Departure. That is one. Obvious. Logic. Failure.
Then I read through a bit of philosophizing. Eragon thinks of the villagers below as leading, short, near-sighted existences (“blinkered” is the word Paolini uses). He
wonders which is better: to remain in one place and learn all one can about it, or to roam the land and learn only a little bit about each place? Is it better to have a deep but narrow education or a broad but shallow one? I don’t know why he is even wondering about the question--the answer is pretty simple: it depends. For example, if you’re a scientist, you will need an advanced education in your specific field of interest. This will, naturally, come at the expense of not having very much knowledge about the rest of the world. But at least you will be able to work effectively in your specific field, which is what counts. Likewise, if you want to be a jack-of-all-trades, fix-it-up-mechanic, and go traveling the world, you will eventually get a very broad education. But it won’t be very deep. If being a world traveler is what you want to do, then the broad education is the one that counts.
Then Eragon remembers that Oromis had told him once that you could deduce the whole world from a grain of sand if you study it enough. Excuse me while I read what I just typed with a dumbfounded expression.
Then they’re flying through the mountains. Saphira sometimes has to fly higher than usual to get over the snowy passes, and Eragon thinks the mountains look like “so many molars erupting from the brown gums of the earth”. I award that piece of description no points. They fly over a deep valley, and Eragon looks down and sees signs of intelligent habitation. He thinks he has seen an urgal, and wishes he could go down and find out how they live. Saphira doesn’t think this is a good idea, and breaths smoke in Eragon’s face. It is hard to tell whether she did it on purpose or not.
The sun sets, and Saphira is still flying. How far can a dragon fly in in a single flight? I think we’re getting close to zombie dragon territory--it’s not too far a stretch, since Alagaësia already has zombie horses. (credit goes to Kippurbird for figuring the horses out.)
Eragon starts thinking of ways to kill Galbatorix. Ugh. I thought Eragon wanted to get AWAY from the stresses of war? Yet here he is, back to thinking about the same subject again. I’m honestly tired of it. Galbatorix is constantly treated like he’s the center of the whole story, yet he never does a darn thing to earn it.
Then Eragon asks Glaedr if the Vault of Souls could contain Eldunarí. Glaedr says no, it’s impossible, and puts special emphasis on explaining why it’s impossible. His explanation isn’t consistent--it’s akin to saying that in order for Eragon to make them invisible, he has to tamper with people’s eyesight--which he most certainly does not! Remember the invisibility spell he used back in Brisingr? The same one he and Arya could have used instead of wantonly killing all those soldiers in the middle of the plain? If Eragon can hide from sight without tampering with people’s senses, why can’t minds be hidden without tampering with people’s senses?
This needs a quote:
And yet, Eragon still could not sense them or the Lethrblaka. Are they an illusion too? he wondered. But no, that was nonsense; the flesh Saphira tore at with her talons was real enough. Another explanation occurred to him: perhaps it was impossible to detect their presence. Perhaps the Ra’zac could conceal themselves from the minds of humans, their prey, just as spiders conceal themselves from flies. If so, then Eragon finally understood why the Ra’zac had been so successful hunting magicians and Riders for Galbatorix when they themselves could not use magic. --Brisingr, “Assault on Helgrind”.
Why couldn’t Eragon detect the Ra’zac’s minds? Glaedr takes it for granted that minds can’t be hidden and uses it as proof that there can be no Eldunarí on Vroengard. This is a massive. Consistency. Failure.
The moon rises, and Saphira asks Glaedr to tell them a story. Oh goody. Hearing a story, while flying a-dragon-back at night, sounds nice. Glaedr asks what kind of story she wants to hear. Saphira says she wants to hear how Glaedr and Oromis were captured by the Forsworn and how they escaped. All of a sudden, this idea of listening to a story doesn’t sound so good, because I realize that Paolini has decided that it’s now exposition time. Does the author not realize that his characters seem to be unable to think about anything other than what the plot dictates?
What follows is several pages of in-world historical exposition. Glaedr starts the story by making excuses for why the Riders did not at first realize that the young Galbatorix was a threat. Apparently he wasn’t the first Rider to go mad. I wonder what they did with the Riders before him who suffered insanity--did the elders refuse them help as well? Regardless, he was the first to acquire a disciple, Morzan. And yet, Glaedr says, the Riders were no more concerned than if they had discovered that a Shade was causing trouble for people. To which I reply, “Oi! You do know that those Shades are powerful enough to set whole sections of a forest on fire, right? I’m smelling some serious incompetence among the leadership here!”
Galbatorix acquired more disciples. Morzan was only the first; he soon tempted others who were already Riders in full, and whose loyalties were unquestioned. Some wanted revenge, and some wanted to be gods, and some wanted to indulge themselves in destructive ways, and some just wanted to watch the world burn. Whatever made anyone think that the Riders were fit to rule the people more than the people themselves, seeing as they are no better than the people? On the other hand, I also
notice that i’s stated that it was the Forsworns’ spite and weakness that led them to join Galbatorix, yet nothing is said about the generally assumed guilt of their dragons. It is an interesting omission.
Glaedr continues to describe how frustrated he and Oromis were with all the rumors and speculation. They go on an expedition with two other elven Riders in order to try to discover for themselves what is really happening. Unfortunately for them, the other two Riders are working for Galbatorix, and they trap Glaedr and Oromis in a ring of stones around a watchtower. The trap is your basic slow-spell, so I have no idea why Glaedr thinks it was clever, or why it needed to be taught to them by Galbatorix himself. However, Glaedr then claims that since the spell didn’t actually hurt them, they had no defense against it. This . . . frustrates me extremely. It is totally stupid! Just because the fly that was buzzing around my head a few days ago wasn’t actually biting me, would not have prevented me from picking up a fly-swatter and smashing it! (I haven’t gotten around to actually doing that, yet. Fortunately for the fly, it seems to have gone.)
Then they engage in an epic battle between the minds. They are fairly evenly matched, despite the fact that the odds are five against two, and the two are unprepared, while the five have had at least several minutes to get ready, because of the slow-spell. I guess Glaedr and Oromis must be mental ninjas?
Then I come to a part of Glaedr’s narration that I just have to quote:
At a certain point, without knowing of Oromis’s plans, I struck back at our attackers, seeking to hurt them. Oromis had been waiting for just such a moment. He had long known the Rider who had instructed Kialandí and Formora in the ways of magic, and he was well familiar with Galbatorix’s twisted reasoning. From that knowledge, he was able to guess at how Kialandí and Formora had worded their spells, and where the flaws in their enchantments were likely to lie.
. . .
*gets up from computer, paces around for several minutes, then sits back down*
Sorry, it’s just that I do not know very well how to express anger over the internet, other than resorting to foul language or using captioned pictures, but I won’t do that. The paragraph I quoted has some very serious problems with it.
First, knowing who a student’s teacher was, while it lets you know in general how the student thinks, does not allow you to know how they think to the detail that would be necessary when guessing at the wording of his or her spell. Oromis’s two opponents are stated to be accomplished warriors, thus they will certainly have their own personalities and their own ways of getting things done; and there is no indication that Oromis actually knows either of them at a personal level. Beyond that, they’ve obviously had more then one instructor in magic. The idea that Oromis can guess at where the flaws are in their enchantments because he knows their teacher is complete bosh!
Second, since when at this time was Oromis “well familiar with Galbatorix’s twisted reasoning”? Even if Galbatorix’s reasoning is indeed twisted, it would not have become so until after he lost his dragon, beyond which time the only people who would know how Galbatorix thinks would be the people on his side! Regardless of that, just because Galbatorix’s reasoning is twisted does not mean there are going to be loopholes in his spells. A programmer can put together a good program and yet still have bad reasoning in other areas of life!
Sheesh.
So, because somehow Oromis can guess at where the weak points in his enemies’ spells are, he makes his own enchantment to break the bonds they’ve put around him and Glaedr.
It took Oromis three tries to break our bonds. How exactly he did it, I cannot say. I doubt whether he really understood it himself. Most simply, he shifted us a finger’sbreadth away from where we had been standing.
Like how Arya sent my egg from Du Weldenvarden to the Spine? asked Saphira.
Yes, and no, Glaedr replied. Yes, he transported us from one place to another without moving us through the intervening space. But he did not just shift our position, he also shifted the very substance of our flesh, rearranged it so that we were no longer what we once were. Many of the smallest parts of our bodies can be exchanged for one another without ill effect, and so he did with every muscle, bone, and organ.
Start rant.
Am I to assume from this that, without knowing what he or she is doing, a Rider in Alagaësia can put together a spell to accomplish a task that is impossible for every computer in the entire internet, working together, to do? Or am I to assume that magic, without being told exactly how to the smallest detail, somehow knows how to take a person apart at the cellular level and then put that person back together again in a consistent state? But if it’s not magic itself that handles the details, then am I supposed to believe that Oromis’ brain can somehow compute all this information? Or that he can do it without even knowing--without even a theory--of how it’s done? But if it is magic that takes care of these details, and provides the energy required--which I think would be far more than Oromis and Glaedr could provide--then why does using magic require the user to understand what they are doing and provide the energy to do it; two rules which were stated in the first book?
End rant.
Eragon then asks an obvious question:
“How could that have worked, though? You would still be the same person as before.”
You would, and yet you would not. The difference between who we had been and who we then were was slight, but it was enough to render useless the enchantments Kialandí and Formora had woven about us.
(Quick note: if some of you don’t want to see me write a spell--believe me, I disliked it too, but I feel I can’t let this mistake in logic pass--then skip down past the three large paragraphs.)
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Continuing.
This is all rather vague. The quote makes the assertion that the enchantments became worthless when Oromis “shifted” their bodies, but it does not explain the why. Instead, this is left up to the reader, and if that reader happens to be me, then he’s likely to give up and say that Paolini is just making this up as he goes along. I don’t think that is far from the truth. But if I did think more about it, I would come up with a few questions of my own: to what were the enchantments bound to? To Oromis’ and Glaedr’s bodies, or to their minds (rather difficult to define in terms concrete enough for this context), or simply to the ground around them? If to their minds, how does changing their bodies free them? If to the ground, then definitely no dice. The last option then, is that the spells were bound to their bodies.
I can imagine an approximate wording that could be used to bind a spell to Oromis and Glaedr. I will follow the known and established rules of Paolini’s Ancient Language, to the extent that they are known and established, which admittedly isn’t much. But I will write in English, of course. “Let the following sentences I speak be part of the construct ‘background-daemon-375’; and from here to the end of this construct, let me refer to ‘background-daemon-375’ as ‘spell’. Let that every three seconds, this spell will cause that, if possible, the following assertion be true: that this spell will be bound to Oromis, the elf, whose dragon’s name is Glaedr, and also that this spell will be bound to Glaedr, the dragon, whose elf’s name is Oromis. (My note: this complicated sentence isn’t just to sound cool. It’s because Oromis’ and Glaedr’s true names aren’t known in this context, so there has to be a way for the program to avoid accidentally becoming attached to the wrong persons.) End assertion. Let this spell at the first be imbued with exactly four times as much energy, taken from [the magician], as is needed to maintain its existence during any periods, up to four, in which the previous assertion is not true. Finally, let this spell sleep between validations, and when it validates, let it validate at the highest allowed rate. (My note: this is to help the program remain invisible to searching magicians.) End definition of the construct.”
Now all the magician needs to do is execute the program. And I think I’ve just illustrated an additional point. A magic system based as strongly on a language as Paolini’s, is bound to be far too powerful in the hands of . . . pretty much anyone. But my main point is this: notice that the wording I used in the assertion sentences doesn’t depend on the precise form of Oromis’ and Glaedr’s bodies at all. It’s error-tolerant. If the cells in their bodies are shifted around, the assertion still remains true. In fact, for the assertion to become false, one of them would either have to stop being a member of their species, or their common name would have to stop being what it currently was. But anything short of that, and the program will continue to be bound to them. So, logically, just because Oromis “shifts” their bodies, that should not in any way cause their enemies’ spells to stop working, if they were at all paying attention when they made them. Remember, Kialandí and Formora had minutes to prepare before they started fighting Oromis and Glaedr.
-------------------
Oh . . . . I think I just revealed what a programming geek I am. And that is the last time (I hope) I ever write a spell in order to prove a point! I feel unclean.
All that said, when Kialandí and Formora realized what Oromis was doing, they panicked and started throwing more magic around. Kialandí casts a spell to make Oromis unable to use magic, but he doesn’t do the same to Glaedr because he is afraid he might either kill him, or create two versions of him, and then they’d have to fight three instead of two. The first reason makes sense. The second one doesn’t really make sense. Why would half of Glaedr times two be harder to fight than one whole Glaedr?
Saphira asks if there was ever a dragon who had been mentally divided in two. Glaedr says there was. I say, “sure, that sounds interesting, but on second thought I’d rather not hear about it--I’m pretty sure it would give me logic cancer.”
Glaedr explains that Kialandí cast his magic-blocking spell at the same time that Oromis was shifting his and Glaedr’s bodies, and as a result the effect of Kialandí’s spell was lessened. The effort of freeing himself and Glaedr was too much for Oromis.
[He] fell to the ground, as helpless as a hatchling, even as Formora and her dragon, an ugly brown thing, ran at us, the others close behind.
No character-points for using the word “ugly”, Glaedr. You lost a leg in this battle, so you don’t have bragging rights, even if you might have had bragging rights in the first place, which you probably didn’t. Also, once again Paolini equates ugly with evil.
With Oromis now out of the fight, the tally is one against five. Seriously, this is just getting ridiculous. Glaedr’s excuse is that his rage gave him greater strength than usual. I think that is complete nonsense, considering the odds, but it’s Paolini’s story. What can one do, except try to warn new writers not to write likewise?
Kialandí was foolish enough to come within my reach, and I grasped him with my talons and threw him at his own dragon. Glaedr made a sound of amusement. His magic did not protect him against that. One of the spikes on the purple’s back impaled him, and I might have killed him then and there had not the brown forced me to retreat.
Glaedr cannot make a sound of amusement, because he doesn’t have a body. Precision, Paolini. You’re so precise in many places when you describe something; why weren’t you precise here, and describe Glaedr as wanting to make a sound of amusement, instead of saying he did, which is physically impossible for him?
As an added bonus, I’ll tell you that if you had written a sentence about how Glaedr wanted to make a sound of amusement (over a different subject, of course--does he think this one is funny?), but finds he can’t because he’s trapped, we as readers might have felt a little more pity for him. But as you currently describe it, there isn’t much difference between Glaedr-with-body and Glaedr-without. You say there is a lot of difference. But your writing doesn’t show it, and Glaedr doesn’t really speak or appear to think like it, except to mourn Oromis, which hasn’t come off as mourning at all, but rather more like a sulk.
. . . I probably should not rant like that because of a single sentence.
After about five minutes in which Glaedr fights alone, Oromis recovers, and they flee. Only Formora and her dragon are able to follow them. They fly right under Glaedr, close enough that Formora can cut off Glaedr’s left foreleg with her sword--I mean light-saber (what else could cut off a dragon’s leg with one stroke?). That is awfully close. Close enough, in fact, that Glaedr could probably have bitten the other dragon in the neck and killed it. Flying right under your opponent’s dragon, indeed! What kind of stupidity is that? Glaedr doesn’t kill them, though. He also claims that getting his leg cut off didn’t hurt very much.
Oromis was able to stop the bleeding, but no more, and he was too weak to contact Vrael or the other elder Riders and warn them of Galbatorix’s plans.
This makes about as much sense as me being in a jungle war-zone with an allied soldier whose arm is hacked off, being strong enough (even though having been shot several times) to stop the bleeding with bandages, but not also being strong enough to turn on the shortwave-radio that’s sitting right next to me and tell people where we are and what the condition of the other soldier is. Which do you think is easier?
Glaedr and Oromis manage to escape Formora, and they fly to Ilirea (Urû’baen). They manage to convince the Riders there that Galbatorix has some serious stuff planned, and the Riders decide to move all the Eldunarí in Alagaësia to Vroengard. Then they leave the city with Brom and his dragon, and go to Du Weldenvarden. Against Oromis’ and Glaedr’s advice, Brom and his dragon rejoin the fighting, and Brom’s dragon dies. The end.
After a moment, Saphira said, Thank you for the story, Ebrithil.
You are welcome, Bjartskular, but never ask it of me again.
That is one disgusting piece of rudeness. If Glaedr didn’t want to tell the story, why did he just willingly spend 6.7 pages telling it in such attentive detail? Without even a hint at being angry for being asked to tell such a story while he is still (supposedly) mourning Oromis? And furthermore, Saphira isn’t even likely to need to ask him to tell the story again. She’s a walking, breathing, thought and sense recorder. She’ll likely remember that story to the end of her days, unless Paolini changes the rules of his world (again).
Glaedr is now finished with his story, and we return to the regular narration. They land on a lonely beach, at several miles north of Teirm. A storm is brewing--but there’s no evidence of one, except that the lighthouse at Teirm is lit. No wind is described. No lightning or flashes in the distance. If Paolini is trying to make me worry about them, he’s not succeeding.
Saphira wants to fly straight across the water to Vroengard, but Glaedr is advising her against it. Eragon worries that if they fly straight, they’ll be flying over water. Keep your story internally consistent, Paolini, please! We’ve already had a sentence (back in Eldest, in the chapter titled Drifting) proving that Saphira can take off from water. She can swim quite well (plenty of sentences in Eldest proving that), and dragons probably would naturally float, too (never a sentence where she has any trouble), but if she doesn’t, Eragon can just make up a spell to make sure she does. I’m not in the least worried about them.
The chapter begins to come to a close with one final piece of annoying description.
She twisted her neck and returned his gaze with one huge eye. Her pupil had expanded until it was nearly circular; it was so large and black, Eragon felt as if he could crawl into it and disappear altogether.
Why is Eragon thinking that he could craw into Saphira’s eye? That is yucky.
The matter settled, Eragon climbed back onto Saphira, and with a single bound, she left behind the safety of solid land and took flight over the trackless waves.
They have decided to fly straight, taking the long distance across the water for the sake of speed. I’m not in the least worried about them.

33 comments

[1]

thelesserhound
September 1 2012, 00:48:26 UTC
One of my favorite Inheritance sporks so far. Man, the magic system is just all over the place at this point. There is not a single shred of consistency left...

I kind of agree with you that this chapter had the potential to be pretty interesting, if it had been written by anyone other than Paolini. Anyone. I mean, really, I don't see how you could go through and rewrite that story of Glaedr's and make it any more screwed up than it already is.

[1A]

white_wolf03
September 1 2012, 17:07:40 UTC
Not only is it inconsistent, but it's horribly overpowered. Just add the prefix "Unless the energy expended would kill me" and you can do anything.

[1A1]

lupus753
September 1 2012, 19:36:19 UTC


"That looks like a very fine prefix, I dare say." -- Surlent

(That comment made me really want to whip out an obscure video game reference.)

[2]

Anonymous
September 1 2012, 03:40:04 UTC
I am by no means skilled in the mystic arts of Biochemistry, but aren't our cells dying and being generated all the time? Wouldn't this mean that "who we are" (according to the above example, at least?) is constantly changing, and therefore no spell should be able to work for more than . . . I don't know, the time it takes another cell to die? (Please, somebody, help before I make a serious scientific error!)

[2A]

venusrain
September 1 2012, 13:57:12 UTC
Yep! Even nerve cells are replaced and regenerated, even if not as quickly as, say, our stomach lining (which is replaced every day or so, IIRC), or skin (which is totally replaced in a few weeks, again IIRC). It's kind of a silly way to determine the self.

[2A1]

Anonymous
October 5 2012, 01:10:59 UTC
Perhaps more importantly, even while the cells remain alive, the atoms that make up those cells are constantly changing--I forget the exact estimate, but it was something along these lines: The atoms that now make up your body are almost certainly entirely different atoms from those that made up your body at birth. (It didn't specify when you were born, but these estimates are so rough that it doesn't really matter.)

[3]

torylltales
September 1 2012, 03:47:04 UTC
I would love to see a fantasy story in which spell-making was approached with the same logic as computer programming. I also really like your thought processes there, especially the bit about sleeping between validations. This is an excellent spork of a not-so-excellent chapter.

Chapter Forty Five: The Sound of his Voice, The Touch of his Hand - Collab between stealingvowels and 7th_y
Chapter Forty Six: Small Rebellions dibbed by distinctvaguens
Chapter Forty Seven: A Crown of Ice and Snow - pipedreamno20

Since stealingvowels appears to be AWOL, 7th_y may have to do 45 by themself.

[3A]

swankivy
September 1 2012, 16:35:27 UTC
My book kind of has that "logic" thing going in the spell-making rules. The fairies in the school have to learn math for advanced spellcasting. :)

[3B]

Anonymous
September 2 2012, 16:25:00 UTC
How likely is it that Paolini's rumored SF book would have been some kind of combo Tron/Matrix ripoff where we learn Eragon's world was really a virtual world all along, the Dragon Riders were the avatars the programmers made to interact with it,the ancient language really is a programming language, and the whole point of the previous four books really was Eragon's ascension to godhood? Meanwhile, maybe rocks fell and everyone died in the real world, with Brom and Galbatorix the last survivors that transferred their consciousnesses into Ala-something-or-other. It would be the ultimate retcon-to-save-his-worldbuilding the author could try.

[3B1]

torylltales
September 3 2012, 10:29:05 UTC
Not very likely. I don't think Mr. Paolini thinks there's anything that needs saving. If he does, he strikes me more as the 'shrug and leave it alone' type than the 'write a new series that completely undermines the past books and creates a new reality' type.

Actually, scratch that. Very likely.

[3C]

ana0119
September 12 2012, 15:43:27 UTC
So... is 7th_y also AWOL?

What should we do?

[4]

dr_doomsduck
September 1 2012, 11:56:29 UTC
yeah. the whole thing about rearranging cells and worrying if you're still yourself...that's an age old star trek argument. It's even mentioned in one of the meta-books about it.

http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/archive/index.php/t-61518.html, for further information.

points for blatanly ripping off another series though, Paopao.

[4A]

mage_apprentice
September 1 2012, 15:53:33 UTC
It also falls flat since how a person is defined is usually a combination of personality, personal philosophy, background and how that relates to the present, and personal identity. Even if part of a person's identity includes their race, that still relates more to a social thing rather than exclusively on how your cells are arranged.

an ugly brown thing
I don't know why Paolini doesn't like the color brown to such an extent. I mean, my least favorite color is orange yet I can still find a lot of pretty hues of orange (plus I need it to help with shading blues). Why brown isn't even given a chance to be beautiful in the natural world is beyond me! Look at various kinds of trees, soil, and birds! As for nonnatural colors, look at sepia! Brown is a color that could either be warm or cool, and it goes beautifully with blues and greens! I don't know if his being colorblind has anything to do with how he sees brown, but god! Give the color brown a chance to be beautiful, Paolini!

Just thought up a magic system that could fit the language thing and doing things instinctively. Magic and preforming magic comes from the heart and acts much like an art. Language is a tool used to help cast spells, and better knowledge and execution of that tool results in stronger, more efficient, and better spells. Additionally, to help keep some form of consistency, symbols were created to help retain the meaning of the spells even if the words originally behind them change as living languages do, and symbols are nice for shorthand. Though, since magic acts like an art, some people might not be as apt at using magic as some others, and a person's ego or unwillingness to see error in their work could prevent them from improving or might even cause them to regress in quality. Also, while there is a conventional way to cast magic, things are open enough to where a new interpretation or method can also get the job done. This also raises a few questions for exploration: what if a person uses their thoughts to cast spells, what if someone just goes by what they feel, and do powerful spells come from using exclusively one tool or some sort of mix between thoughts, desires, and spoken/written language or does it just depend on the needs of the spell? Note to self: develop this more

[4A1]

dr_doomsduck
September 2 2012, 00:35:22 UTC
Technically you can explain that by saying that every aspect of personality, personal philosophy and background is just clusters of neurons in your brain. So, it would be possible, but then you're not just looking at cloning as we know it (which, given the lack of eggcells and sperm it already is) but rather copying everything. That however, makes the whole concept of an intangible part of a person obsolete, and makes the question of whether or not you're you irrelevant. One set of molecules or the other, it's the arrangement of them that makes you who you are.

If you're looking at words or symbols for magic, then yeah, you could easily use them as an aid, much like those martial-arts practicioners use them to put an extra 'kick' behind their attacks. If youwant to pull another biological explanation, you could say that magic users (or if anyone of the species can learn, everyone is) are born with hyperactive mitochondria and an extra organ in nerve endings that allow them to manipulate the world around them. Depending on the sort of magic, you could go with simple, creating magnetic fields or more complex, adding protons to atoms, so as to change which element they are. I'd imagine that using magic, like walking would be something people just do, rather than actively think about. You don't need to say "legs, walk", or even think it, to do it. At least the trained indivuals wouldn't. Untrained mages would need to learn to use their skill and might forget under extreme circumstances, but overall, you'd just keep it.

[4A1A]

mage_apprentice
September 2 2012, 02:44:29 UTC
If you're looking at words or symbols for magic, then yeah, you could easily use them as an aid, much like those martial-arts practicioners use them to put an extra 'kick' behind their attacks.
*confused look*
Uhh . . . I don't know what kind of martial artists you've met, but out of all the times I've met martial artists or practiced some form of martial arts, we've never used words to "add" some sort of "kick" behind our attacks, blocks, and throws. We just name stuff either for custom and formality or for some sort of easy recognizability since naming a kick is easier than describing it over and over and over. I was more referring to how mathematical symbols have formed when I mentioned how symbols became a shorthand for a certain meaning.

I'd imagine that using magic, like walking would be something people just do, rather than actively think about. You don't need to say "legs, walk", or even think it, to do it. At least the trained indivuals wouldn't. Untrained mages would need to learn to use their skill and might forget under extreme circumstances, but overall, you'd just keep it.
This is kinda what I imagine with magic usually concerning magic. Though, I like to think that language provides some form of structure or base when master mages can usually skip over that step.

[4A1A1]

lupus753
September 2 2012, 02:58:12 UTC
I'm not certain, but I think she was talking about kiai, often used in Japanese martial arts. "Hiyah!" is the most popular one.

[4A1A1A]

mage_apprentice
September 2 2012, 03:30:32 UTC
Oh. I usually just hear those as grunts like "ha" or "ugh" or even "ho." Also, in some styles like Tai Chi, you don't really make those kinds of sounds. I thought doomsduck was talking about shouting out the names of attacks like people would with spells (like Dark Magic Attack or something).

[4A1A1A]

dr_doomsduck
September 2 2012, 06:01:42 UTC
No. I meant the grunts and stuff (and you don't? No oohhmmm's like in yoga? I wouldn't know, my experience is limited to a couple of lessons of aikido, kendo and kickboxing). Anyway! The point was, you're making the noise purely as a crutch for the action. Likewise, some people think out loud or do calculations that way because it makes things easier to process in the brainpan. There doesn't HAVE to be a connection. For all it matters, you could shout rhubarb at your enemy and cast a firespell, it just depends on which action you want to perform (Imagine how confused said enemt would be, though). If I shout "walk" at my legs, it won't do anything unless the neurons in my brain start sending information unconsiously, I might add, to hundreds of different cells that all collectively allow me to walk. On top of that, I don't think you'd be able to overload like Paolini once described, a human body has several processes to defend itself, you can't just stop breathing, if you touch a hot stove, you let go. The idea that you could instantaneously kill yourself using magic is strange. Because the grey folk would've never had the chance to develop a language for it in that case. The first couple of mages would accidently kill themselves before even realizing what they were doing and then would be unable to pass the trait down to their children, thereby nipping the entire art in the butt.

[4A1A1A1]

torylltales
2 years ago

[4A1A1A1A]

dr_doomsduck
September 2 2012, 10:34:57 UTC

"At any rate, the noise are not a crutch for action, it is commonly believed that sharp bursts of air concentrate the flow of chi (originally literally 'air/breath') into the attack, thereby increasing its power/potential."

Okay, but, then we're talking about airflow, so again, in theory, you wouldn't need to shout kill. You could just go with "rhubarb", or if you want to stay in the monosyllables "duck".

Imagine a mugger in an alleyway, shouting "stab!" every time they stab you

That actually sounds rather mental, I'd definitely be afraid.

[4A1A1A1A1]

torylltales
2 years ago

[4A1A1A1A1]

dr_doomsduck
September 2 2012, 22:34:37 UTC
But there isn't just one word to focus your chi flow or intention. There's the japanese "Hiyah!" and the cantonese "Su!" as said before. Both are completely different words with the same purpose. What matters are the intentions and feelings of the person who shouts it. If an expert in kung fu yells "Su!" at me, he might as well be yelling rhubarb, because I have no idea what he means, to me, the word is no more or less intimidating.Or, if a person has a very passionate hate towards aforementioned vegetable, then the intent, the focus, the airflow and everything surrounding it might very well be the same as when a regular expert yells kill.

It's all about what a word means to you, what feelings it gives you, which meaning they taught to you.

In the fictional world of harry potter they use spells but the words are not exclusive. At some point Hermione comes up with a spell that requires a person to say "point me!" which falls outside the usual grammar for magic, but works nonetheless. Not because the word is magical, but probably because she's conditioned herself to bring up that mix of emotions, skills and whatnot when she points her wand, does a flicky thing and says "point me". Hermione could still say point me in a regular conversation without having her wand go bonkers.

I think maybe we're either miscommunicating here, or just differ too much of an opinion to come to a conclusion.

Agree to disagree?

[4A1A1A1A1A]

torylltales
2 years ago

[4A1A1A1B]

white_wolf03
September 2 2012, 15:31:56 UTC
Adding onto the topic, in my club, the purpose of the kiai is to make the other person flinch when you strike so that their reaction time is shot.

[4A1A1A1C]

mage_apprentice
September 2 2012, 17:48:36 UTC
I knew about the intimidation part, but the chi part is something new to me.

[4A1A1B]

dr_doomsduck
September 2 2012, 05:35:41 UTC
Yes, thank you! That is exactly what I meant!

[5]

quaternionworld
September 1 2012, 15:35:40 UTC
There's one problem with your spell: I don't think it's indicated that the Ancient Language knows someone's common name, or that it can accurately resolve identities by species and common name. In programming languages, you can only bind statements to established variables.The ancient language seems to come with many established variables (its words) that you don't have to redefine, but I was under the impression 'name' in the ancient language refers to one's true name. If that is true then the only way for Oromis' enemies to cast their binding spell is to cast it on Oromis's position (I guess fast exact triangulation is available in the ancient language?), and therefore, slightly shifting his position by transferring his essence (from his true name that he does know) to another body regenerated at another location in space (I got nothing for that one.Either Oromis or the ancient language knows how every single of his cells is organized? Or could figure it out in a few seconds? Is Oromis a quantum computer? How come these people don't have electricity again?), thus voiding the magic.

The ancient language sounds like the most overpowered programming language ever, and whoever wrote it would have been a far more interesting mentor-character than Brom,Oromis and Glaedr put together. Also, if this is possible then it is canon that magic in Eragon can create life. It might not be able to create new souls for this life (it's not clear whether you can make up a 'true name' to bind it to a creation, or whether this name is created/detected by the magic itself)but that's still fairly cool.

[5A]

mage_apprentice
September 1 2012, 16:03:29 UTC
If that is true then the only way for Oromis' enemies to cast their binding spell is to cast it on Oromis's position (I guess fast exact triangulation is available in the ancient language?), and therefore, slightly shifting his position by transferring his essence (from his true name that he does know) to another body regenerated at another location in space

Also, if this is possible then it is canon that magic in Eragon can create life. It might not be able to create new souls for this life (it's not clear whether you can make up a 'true name' to bind it to a creation, or whether this name is created/detected by the magic itself)but that's still fairly cool.

In that case, anyone could be immortal in the Eragon world if they possessed magic and the knowhow. Doc Benton would've been interested in this if he existed in the right canon.

[5A1]

torylltales
September 1 2012, 23:46:27 UTC
"(it's not clear whether you can make up a 'true name' to bind it to a creation, or whether this name is created/detected by the magic itself"

[spoiler]

In the final few chapters, Eragon goes to Nuclear Island and makes up True Names for all the 'new' (warped by radioactive genetic mutation) creatures there.

[/spoiler]

[5A1A]

dr_doomsduck
September 2 2012, 00:07:38 UTC
continuing on the spoiler vein....




Which is WEIRD, why would Eragon have to name them? I mean, isn't a true name a big mix of who you are, what you've done, etc...it's not something you can just 'give'. Even if, and that's a big if, you have a species that's brand new, less than a millisecond old, wouldn't it already have developed a true name based on it's characteristics? Let alone these critters who have been around for a century or so. When the hell did Eragon develop the skill to start naming shit in the first place? Wasn't every word already settled when the Grey folk made the language?

Eghh...bitter taste in my mouth now.

[5B]

jair_greycoat
September 2 2012, 03:27:35 UTC
I think a quote from Brisingr may shed some light on this:

“What are your names?” [Eragon] asked.

“If it please you, Shadeslayer,” said the tall, black-haired woman, with a hint of an accent he could not place, “names have power, and we would prefer ours remain unknown.” She kept her gaze angled slightly downward, but her tone was firm and unyielding. The girl uttered a small gasp, as if shocked by the woman’s effrontery.

Eragon nodded, neither upset nor surprised, although the woman’s reticence had piqued his curiosity even more. He would have liked to know their names, but they were not essential for what he was about to do. --Brisingr, Intersecting Sagas

From this it would appear that the Ancient Language does indeed have the ability to resolve a target given some vague parameters (in this case, through Eragon's hand). There are also a number of places where Eragon (or someone else) casts a spell, and they specify their target merely by looking, or by pointing--see Tenga, in the chapter titled Escape and Evasion. Of course, I think you're right that the series doesn't actually say anywhere that the Ancient Language can resolve a target using a name and species ID, although I think it does assume the possibly, stated as a negative in the last sentence of the quote.

You're right that most of these target specification methods require at least some level of triangulation, which would become invalid if the target moved, so I'm basically basing my logic on the assumption that the Ancient Language can resolve a target given some filter parameters, with no triangulation needed. However, if triangulation was the only means of finding the targets when Eragon blessed the two women, then it follows that the blessing Eragon gave them would become invalid the moment they moved. Since it didn't become invalid (so we believe), we have to assume that triangulation is not the only way to find a target. Perhaps, once any spell finds its target, it tags it for future reference (a behavior that would have to be part of any and every spell by default)?

[6]

Anonymous
September 21 2013, 21:00:00 UTC
Your a fan idiot. What do you mean half of Glaedr Times two? He has an Eldunari, stupid. And Vroengard is a long way away, with a storm in the middle of the ocean. There's no way they could swim and take off from water in that. You don't need a lightsaber to cut his leg off, the sword is made from brightsteel, and magically enhanced. Oromis can cast that spell without knowing what he is doing; you know nothing about magic! And Glaedr can make a sound of amusement in his head, Eldunari, that is. And he didn't want to tell the story again because it was a painful memory, you complete moron !!!!!

[6A]

jair_greycoat
October 3 2013, 04:37:58 UTC
It has taken me some time to find this since I have been on vacation.

Your a fan idiot.

Congrats. You have described yourself.

What do you mean half of Glaedr Times two?

If Glaedr is divided in half then his energy will also be divided between the halves. Do I really need to explain?

[...] stupid.

Really?

And Vroengard is a long way away, with a storm in the middle of the ocean. There's no way they could swim and take off from water in that.

You forget Eragon’s magic and Glaedr’s energy.

You don't need a lightsaber to cut his leg off, the sword is made from brightsteel, and magically enhanced.

In other words, Oromis’s sword is a lightsaber-wannabe.

Oromis can cast that spell without knowing what he is doing; [...]

One of Paolini’s rules set down in the first and second books was that the magic user had to know what he or she was doing.

[...] you know nothing about magic!

Neither does Paolini know much about consistency . . . .

And Glaedr can make a sound of amusement in his head, Eldunari, that is.

I’ll grant you that one.

And he didn't want to tell the story again because it was a painful memory, [...]

If it was really a painful memory for him, he wouldn’t have told the story in the first place. The real reason Glaedr made the rude comment to Saphira was because after the exposition was finished, Paolini remembered that Glaedr was supposed to be sulking (I refuse to refer to his mood as one of mourning).

[...] you complete moron !!!!!

I think you enjoy insulting people. Go away, you smell of ’net Troll.