<div style="text-indent:1em;">Eragon had felt a disturbance in the world, one which had not been felt for centuries, if not millennia, and was not one to sit idly at such an occurrence. It was not often a Farvollen Elf left the wood, and only now was it deemed necessary. He had been travelling with an agility unknown to most men, as the ancient magicks were still perpetuated in his race. This allowed him to quite quickly travel gracefully across the leagues without breaking into a sweat. What he saw when he arrived at Buckland almost brought him to tears.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The city which he had known from the occasional trading trips over the centuries was in ruins, no longer a proud monument to the dedication of many races to a better life. Eragon could see some people wandering around the ruins, and the few buildings still standing, and spied someone trying to rally the people together, based on his actions and the yelling of the crowd. Eragon could make out mention of going to the inn to join a group to fight whatever had wreaked this destruction, which he presumed to be draconic due to the amount of ashes and burnt debris. Knowing the power of a dragon firsthand, Eragon considered it to be beneficial for everyone if he also ventured with this group. He went into this inn and approached the growing group of adventurers.</div>