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Description
While I was reading the chapter 49, this scene immediately formed in my mind, so I took a pencil...

Hope you like it.

Colored version coming soon.

SPOILER ALERT!!! If you have not read Inheritance yet, do not continue reading.

Chapter 49. Amid the Ruins

The thick gray clouds parted, and from his place on Saphira’s back, Eragon beheld the interior of Vroengard Island.Before them was a huge bowl-shaped valley, encircled by the steep mountains they had seen poking through the tops of the clouds. A dense forest of spruce, pine, and fir trees blanketed the sides of the mountains as well as the foothills below, like an army of prickly soldiers marching down from thepeaks. The trees were tall and mournful, and even from a distance Eragon could see the beards of moss and lichen that hung from their heavy branches.Scraps of white mist clung to the sides of the mountains, and in several places throughout the valley, diffuse curtains of rain drifted from the ceiling of clouds.High above the valley floor, Eragon could see a number of stone structures among the trees: tumbled, overgrown entrances to caves; the husks of burnt-out towers; grand halls with collapsed roofs; and a few smaller buildings that looked as if they might still be habitable. A dozen or more rivers flowed out of the mountains and wandered across the verdant ground until they poured into a large, still lake near the center of the valley. Around the lake lay the remnants of the Riders’ city, Doru Araeba. The buildings were immense—great empty halls of such enormousproportions that many could have encompassed the whole of Carvahall. Every door was like the mouth to a vast, unexplored cavern. Every window was astall and wide as a castle gate, and every wall was a sheer cliff.Thick mats of ivy strangled the blocks of stone, and where there was no ivy there was moss, which meant that the buildings blended into the landscapeand looked as if they had grown out of the earth itself. What little of the stone was bare tended to be a pale ocher, although patches of red, brown, anddusky blue were also visible. As with all elf-made structures, the buildings were graceful and flowing and more attenuated than those of dwarves or humans. But they also possesseda solidity and authority that the treehouses of Ellesméra lacked; in some of them, Eragon descried similarities to houses in Palancar Valley, and heremembered that the earliest human Riders had come from that very part of Alagaësia. The result was a unique style of architecture, neither entirely elvishnor entirely human. Almost all the buildings were damaged, some more severely than others. The damage seemed to radiate outward from a single point near the southernedge of the city, where a wide crater sank more than thirty feet into the ground. A copse of birch trees had taken root in the depression, and their silveryleaves shook in the gusts of the directionless breeze.The open areas within the city were overgrown with weeds and brush, while a fringe of grass surrounded each of the flagstones that formed the streets.Where the buildings had sheltered the Riders’ gardens from the blast that had ravaged the city, dull-colored flowers still grew in artful designs, their shapes no doubt governed by the dictates of some long-forgotten spell. Altogether, the circular valley presented a dismal picture.
Behold the ruins of our pride and glory, said Glaedr. […]

Inheritance Cycle_ © Christopher Paolini

Description
While I was reading the chapter 49, this scene immediately formed in my mind, so I took a pencil...

Hope you like it.

Colored version coming soon.

SPOILER ALERT!!! If you have not read Inheritance yet, do not continue reading.

Chapter 49. Amid the Ruins

The thick gray clouds parted, and from his place on Saphira’s back, Eragon beheld the interior of Vroengard Island.Before them was a huge bowl-shaped valley, encircled by the steep mountains they had seen poking through the tops of the clouds. A dense forest of spruce, pine, and fir trees blanketed the sides of the mountains as well as the foothills below, like an army of prickly soldiers marching down from thepeaks. The trees were tall and mournful, and even from a distance Eragon could see the beards of moss and lichen that hung from their heavy branches.Scraps of white mist clung to the sides of the mountains, and in several places throughout the valley, diffuse curtains of rain drifted from the ceiling of clouds.High above the valley floor, Eragon could see a number of stone structures among the trees: tumbled, overgrown entrances to caves; the husks of burnt-out towers; grand halls with collapsed roofs; and a few smaller buildings that looked as if they might still be habitable. A dozen or more rivers flowed out of the mountains and wandered across the verdant ground until they poured into a large, still lake near the center of the valley. Around the lake lay the remnants of the Riders’ city, Doru Araeba. The buildings were immense—great empty halls of such enormousproportions that many could have encompassed the whole of Carvahall. Every door was like the mouth to a vast, unexplored cavern. Every window was astall and wide as a castle gate, and every wall was a sheer cliff.Thick mats of ivy strangled the blocks of stone, and where there was no ivy there was moss, which meant that the buildings blended into the landscapeand looked as if they had grown out of the earth itself. What little of the stone was bare tended to be a pale ocher, although patches of red, brown, anddusky blue were also visible. As with all elf-made structures, the buildings were graceful and flowing and more attenuated than those of dwarves or humans. But they also possesseda solidity and authority that the treehouses of Ellesméra lacked; in some of them, Eragon descried similarities to houses in Palancar Valley, and heremembered that the earliest human Riders had come from that very part of Alagaësia. The result was a unique style of architecture, neither entirely elvishnor entirely human. Almost all the buildings were damaged, some more severely than others. The damage seemed to radiate outward from a single point near the southernedge of the city, where a wide crater sank more than thirty feet into the ground. A copse of birch trees had taken root in the depression, and their silveryleaves shook in the gusts of the directionless breeze.The open areas within the city were overgrown with weeds and brush, while a fringe of grass surrounded each of the flagstones that formed the streets.Where the buildings had sheltered the Riders’ gardens from the blast that had ravaged the city, dull-colored flowers still grew in artful designs, their shapes no doubt governed by the dictates of some long-forgotten spell. Altogether, the circular valley presented a dismal picture.
Behold the ruins of our pride and glory, said Glaedr. […]

Inheritance Cycle_ © Christopher Paolini