Is 'Murtagh' A Sequel To 'The Inheritance Cycle'?

'Murtagh' dives deep into the shadows of the Eragon universe, revealing layers of political intrigue and personal demons that were only hinted at in the original series. The book follows Murtagh's journey post-'Inheritance', grappling with his past as a pawn of Galbatorix and his struggle to redefine himself. We explore new territories—both geographically and emotionally—as he ventures into uncharted lands beyond Alagaësia, encountering ancient races and forgotten magics. The narrative style shifts to a grittier, more introspective tone, mirroring Murtagh's internal battles. His bond with Thorn evolves, showcasing dragon psychology in ways that feel fresh yet familiar. The book also introduces game-changing lore about the Grey Folk and the true nature of magic, expanding the universe’s metaphysical rules. It’s a masterclass in character-driven worldbuilding, weaving threads from 'Eragon' while spinning its own epic tapestry.

Finding 'Murtagh' in hardcover is easier if you know where to look. Major online retailers like Amazon and Barnes & Noble usually stock it, often with quick shipping options. Independent bookstores might surprise you—many offer online ordering with a personal touch, like signed copies or bundled goodies. For collectors, checking AbeBooks or eBay could unearth rare editions. Don’t forget local shops; even if they don’t have it, they can order it. The hunt itself is part of the fun. Some stores host launch events or themed displays, turning a simple purchase into an experience. Book fairs and conventions are goldmines for special covers. If you’re eco-conscious, used book platforms like ThriftBooks often list hardcovers in great condition. Just set alerts—popular titles vanish fast.

From my point of view, Murtagh shows up in 'Outlander' as that hulking, taciturn figure who smells of peat smoke and old grief — Jamie’s godfather, lifelong companion, and walking threat. He and Jamie were inseparable from childhood; Murtagh’s loyalty is carved into everything he does. In the early books he’s the man you don’t want to tangle with: expert with a dirk, blunt-spoken, and with a moral code that sometimes lets him do ugly things for what he sees as the greater good. Over the course of Diana Gabaldon’s novels his backstory peels back in layers rather than a single neat origin tale. He’s born and raised in the Highlands, tied to the Fraser household by blood-ties of loyalty and shared history, and then dragged into the huge, brutal sweep of the Jacobite rising. After Culloden and the ruin that follows, he becomes a man on the run — outlawed, hardened, forced to make terrible choices to survive and protect those he loves. Later books reveal more about his past associations and the lengths he’ll go to for Jamie and Claire, and you see that his violence, humor, and stubborn devotion are all parts of the same survival art. I keep coming back to him because he’s messy and fierce in the best possible way; he feels real to me.

From the very beginning Jamie and Murtagh feel like blood to me — not in a melodramatic way, but the kind of bond that’s been forged by violence, survival, and shared jokes. As Jamie’s godfather and older surrogate, Murtagh starts out as protector and provocateur: the man who’s rough around the edges, who teaches Jamie how to fight and how to grin through pain. Their early scenes are full of banter, mischief, and that fierce loyalty that feels like family more than friendship. Years and wars change them both. After Culloden and the years of separation, Murtagh returns as a harder figure: he’s still the same soul, but trauma has lined him with iron. The dynamic shifts from playful mentorship to something closer to comrades-in-arms. Murtagh becomes Jamie’s right hand, the one who will do the dirty work Jamie cannot, and Jamie accepts that with quiet, unspoken trust. There are moments where their moral compasses wobble — Murtagh’s thirst for revenge, his methods — but the core bond remains. To me, that evolution is heartbreaking and beautiful; it’s the kind of relationship where silence and glances speak louder than words, and it always leaves me a little choked up when they stand back-to-back in danger.

The TV show takes a much harsher, more final route: in season 5 of 'Outlander' Murtagh is killed on-screen during the North Carolina/American arc. The series makes his death sudden and brutal, meant to land like a gut-punch — it removes him from the story in a way that feels cinematic and irrevocable, and it hits the other characters (and viewers) extremely hard. That choice creates an emotional crescendo that the show can play out visually, with reactions, music, and faces lingering on the loss. In contrast, the novels give Murtagh a longer, more complicated life. In Diana Gabaldon’s books Murtagh survives past the point where the TV version cuts him off; his loyalties, his grudges, and his relationship with Jamie and the family are allowed to breathe and evolve across later volumes. His presence in the books functions as ongoing texture — a living echo of the Highland past and Jamie’s old life — rather than a tidy dramatic beat. Personally, I felt the show’s death made for powerful TV but I missed the richer, slower unfolding of his character that the novels offer.

I've thought about Murtagh's arc in 'Outlander' until my head hurt in the best possible way — his loyalty and brutal pragmatism make him one of my favorite wildcards. In the novels, Murtagh survives the horrors of Culloden and, over the next decades, turns up in the American colonies. By the time of the Revolution he's tied to the same world Jamie and Claire build at Fraser's Ridge; he isn't some distant soldier on a formal battlefield but more the kind of man who lives and breathes the frontier. He becomes a living, breathing part of the community that has to defend itself against raiders, redcoats, and the chaos that war brings to the backcountry. On-screen things get tweaked for dramatic reasons, but the core idea remains: Murtagh's loyalty drags him toward Jamie and that household, not toward grand politics. Whether he's scouting, handling local threats, or quietly watching for signs of trouble, he's the kind of presence you'd expect to be at the Ridge rather than marching in line with a regiment. He has little patience for ideological speeches, but he understands survival and loyalty — so during the Revolution he'd be threaded into the story more as a protector and muscle than a formal officer. I love imagining him by the hearth at night, begrudgingly sipping grog while keeping one eye on the door. It's not flashy, but it fits him: steadiness, wrath if provoked, and an unfailing stick-to-itiveness that makes him indispensable in a fragile new world. That image sticks with me whenever I reread the parts that touch the Revolutionary years.

Hey — quick and enthusiastic shout about this one: the role of Murtagh in the TV adaptation of 'Outlander' is played by Duncan Lacroix. I get why people get mixed up, since Tobias Menzies is a huge presence on the show too (he plays Frank and Black Jack Randall), but the gruff, loyal, often-grinning Murtagh is Lacroix’s territory. He brings that rough-hewn Scottish authenticity and a quietly fierce loyalty to the character that really sells the bond with Jamie. I love how his face and voice carry decades of history in a single look; that kind of casting is priceless for a period drama. If you’re rewatching scenes where Jamie needs a steady hand or a fierce defender, keep an eye on Lacroix — his presence is one of the things that makes 'Outlander' feel lived-in and raw. Honestly, his Murtagh is exactly the kind of weathered, unforgettable supporting character I keep coming back to.

In 'Murtagh', Christopher Paolini introduces a compelling cast that expands the 'Inheritance Cycle' universe. The titular character, Murtagh, takes center stage—no longer just a tormented antagonist but a complex protagonist grappling with his past as Galbatorix’s pawn. His dragon, Thorn, shares this journey, their bond deepening as they navigate freedom’s uncertainties. A standout addition is Bachel, a mysterious witch with ties to ancient magic, whose motives blur the line between ally and threat. Her presence hints at darker forces lurking beyond Alagaësia’s borders. Then there’s Uthal, a gruff survivalist with secrets tied to the Spine’s untamed wilderness. His pragmatic wisdom contrasts sharply with Murtagh’s brooding idealism. Younger characters like Elva—now a teen wielding her cursed foresight with eerie precision—add layers of tension. Paolini also revisits fan favorites: Angela the herbalist drops cryptic prophecies, while Nasuada’s political maneuvering shadows Murtagh’s path. These newcomers and returning faces weave a tapestry of redemption, mystery, and uncharted magic.