"So, what you traveling for?" you asked young Eragon as he walked next to you on the wintery trail. He scowled his features before answering, "The Ra'zac killed my uncle, and me and Saphira are gonna hunt them down" he reveals, full of grim determination. He grips his bow and arrow in preparation to shoot. You almost let out a snicker before you controlled yourself.
"What's so funny!!" cried Eragon, demanding an explanation. "You think bow and arrows are gonna be enough to kill the Ra'zac?" you jeer, Drak echoing with a sinister grunt. "Well...yes!!" he replies. You shake your head, honestly this stupid fifteen year old boy had no idea what war was like.
Suddenly, old Brom speaks up, "Oh Giljaras, was that strange device you pointed at me a weapon?" he asks, referring to your rifle. You stop on the side of the road and pull out the Assault rifle from the pouch. "This is called a gun," you explain, pointing it. Both Eragon and Brom stare at it's sleek, plastic structure with a doubtful eye; apparently, they didn't see how a long stick would be useful.
"So...what does this...gun do?" wonders Eragon. You give him a knowing grin, "With this baby, the Raz'ac would stand a chance," you start. You then aim your rifle to a herd of deer, "after seeing this, you'd never want to use a bow again" you cry.
"Errr...yeah, whatever" responded Eragon, leaning on Saphira as if he thought you were crazy. Oh I'll show you...
You aim at the deer and pull the trigger. BAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBMABMABMABMABMAM!!!!
The deer flop dead into a huge pile of red, while Eragon and Brom stare on in absolute awe. "So, you think you'd ever want to use these useless twigs again?" you say tauntingly as you load in a new magazine. Eragon stares at his bow and arrow, which suddenly seemed like what you had just said.
"Who are you Giljaras? Such a weapon exists nowhere on Alagaesia!! You are not a normal dragon rider!!" Brom cries demandingly, Saphira growling to his side. "Of course we aren't normal riders" Drak emphasizes with his shifty smile.
"Besides, does it matter where I come from now that you got a killing tool that would turn the Raz'ac into bullet-riddled cheese?" you snort, stuffing the rifle back into Drak's pouch.
Eragon, suddenly infected by a wave of militarism, speaks up. "What other devices might you have Gil?" he said with a bit too much casualness. You took a quick note of his expression; he looked as if he'd just seen a Mylandian propaganda film. Plus when you had that much killing power, he'd be smart to side with him.
"I can show you if you want" you say in such a tone that was intended to increase his curiosity. "Eragon!! I forbid you to examine any more of this stranger's devices!! Who knows what his true intentions are!!" Brom grumbled, his hawk eyes crossing. Eragon froze, and retreated back to his dragons side.
You turned and gave the old man a piercing look. You suddenly entertained the conspiracy that those old decadent weyrleaders back in Angelos Weyr had someone from another Weyr to keep a close eye on you. Yet you admitted to yourself if you had been put under a similar situation, you'd also be suspicious.
You decide to drop his rudeness, "Well, I was just offering" you say, shrugging. Brom shifted his piercing gaze not one bit; he'd be a hard one to earn trust.
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