Friday, August 20, 2010

How Do I Repair Split Snowboard

The story of the orcs

Quella degli orchi era una popolazione seminomade. In origine vivevano in una regione montuosa dell'estremo nord, ma in tempi remoti una serie di lunghe glaciazioni avevano costretto i loro abitanti a mettersi in viaggio in cerca di terre fertili.
Si narra che gli orchi, malnutriti e sull'orlo della rovina, avessero vagato alla cieca e senza uno scopo per molti mesi prima che finalmente uno di loro decise di prendere le redini dell'intero popolo per guidarlo verso la salvezza.

Arrampicatosi fino ad una sporgenza del corno più maestoso del monte Vradar, con voce possente Ruruk figlio di Rork lanciò un ruggito che echeggiò lungo tutto il passo di Mendel, dove il popolo degli orchi si era accampato temporaneamente. La sua voce, forte della passione di un vero re, si elevò sopra l'ululato del vento. In un attimo ebbe gli occhi di diecimila orchi puntati su di lui. Gridò their dream of seeing in a safe way that would lead them to the valley, where they found fertile land and domesticate animals. The older ones did not believe him and expressed their protest in unison. No ogre had never fallen to the valley since the beginning of the world and none had evidence that there was life in the mountains. But most young people opposed to their word, saying that if life in the mountains was unknown, the death was a certainty about them. The discussion lasted for days, without any of the two arguments were to prevail over the other. Ruruk Rork's son then decided to go alone, full of anger towards their own people. He walked without stopping for ten days and ten nights. Not sleeping, not eating, not drinking. His persistence was rewarded when, now exhausted, he realized that his legs do not sink more into the snow up to his knees, and walking became easier. The discovery gave him the strength to continue. The snow stopped whip his face, the climate became milder and finally, at the dawn of the eleventh day, came to a meadow. All around the placid waving daffodils. The yellow of the petals wounded ogre dark eyes, accustomed to the white snow, gray sky, the dark green firs. The snow melts gave rise to a stream of cool, clear water running in the meadow. Ruruk he picked up a bit 'sinking calloused hands in the grass, brought them to his mouth and drank with a single gulp. The water, like a magic filter, soothe your body tired of the ogre, but not all. His willpower and his hope is rekindled as a fire, so impatient that he turned and walked back towards the mountain from where it came from.
The sun rose and sank on the horizon for another ten times before Ruruk Rork's son came in sight of the place where his people are still arguing. Again his voice echoed through the mountains and again turned the orcs look at him in unison. But this time Ruruk had something to show them. Without a word he drew from his belt and a daffodil in her hand the rose toward the sky so that everyone, young and old, could see it.
And that was how the people cheered orc Ruruk son of Rork. So it was that under the leadership of the ogre who first came down from the mountains, they set off, shaking the rocks under their mighty step.
But an entire population does not move with the speed of a single ogre. When they were gone ten days promised by Ruruk started the rumor that their leader had lost. When they were past twenty Ruruk someone insinuated that he had lied from the beginning and he showed that the flower was a nice trick and good. However there were many difficulties he faced son of Ruruk Rork, from organizing the camps to provide food. He had to protect from the cold and old to look young and unaware that they were leaving they were lost. Luckily he had on his side a group of faithful friends, strong and experienced, who helped him in all these tasks. It was not long that those who walked at the head, near Ruruk and his companions to escort you to notice the skill of their leader, who in their eyes acquired an aura of grandeur. The safety of Ruruk and loyalty of his friends made sure that many began to call, at first secretly and then a loud voice, King Ruruk. For fellow Ruruk habit began to catch some big bears, which at that time abounded in the forests of the mountains the north. It was more a mere show of force, which Ruruk not attend. Once captured, during the long periods they skinning their prey and then dress the skins, using the enormous heads still equipped with tusks like hoods. The Bears were called the King, and even now the personal guard of the great king of the orcs the same name.
But when he arrived in the rear Ruruk the false news that had proclaimed himself king, discontent joined the ineptitude of their chief suspect.
the thirtieth day of the march of the orcs, Ruruk, who walked on his head more and more taciturn and solitary, he heard screams and noises coming from his shoulders. He turned and saw what was the column in marcia aprirsi in due ali separate per far passare un drappello di orchi anziani e agguerriti. Il più anziano di essi, che stava in testa al gruppo, raggiunse Ruruk brandendo un bastone, ma immediatamente due degli Orsi si misero di fronte al loro re per difenderlo. Ruruk spazientito li spinse via ringhiando e ordinò al vecchio di parlare. E il vecchi parlò e disse: “Ruruk figlio di Rork, hai strappato alla tua stessa gente la carica di Re degli Orchi con l'inganno, e ora pagherai.”
“Io non ho chiesto di essere chiamato Re, Oren, vecchio stolto.” rispose Ruruk. “E comunque,” continuò, “dovrò pagare la pena per mano tua?”. Centinaia di orchi, tutti those who were unable to hear the clash broke out laughing. Oren was unmoved and instead stepped aside. "Not me, but him." He said, indicating with a sweep of the arm a mighty ogre that had come forward from the band of rebels. Rodarek was the brother of Ruruk.
-Brother, do not be silly, I will not fight with you .- Ruruk exclaimed aghast.
-You can not back out, Ruruk not facing a challenge .- That said, Rodarek drew a dagger from the waist and squeezed his left palm around the blade. The blood started running down the forearm and then drip to the ground, staining the snow red. A great strides Rodarek approached the brother and stretched his hand bleeding toccò e macchiò la guancia destra di Ruruk.
-Io ti sfido.-
Ma Ruruk voltò le spalle e fece per riprendere il cammino. Dopo una ventina di passi si accorse che nessuno lo seguiva. Leggeva il disappunto, se non l'indignazione sui volti degli Orsi e per la prima volta si rese conto di come il potere lo appagava. Gli piaceva essere chiamato Re, lo esaltava avere alle sue spalle dei fedeli pronti a difenderlo, pronti a combattere ad un suo ordine. E ora suo fratello gli voleva togliere tutto questo. No, lo stava già facendo, costringendolo a voltare le spalle di fronte ad una sfida. Sapeva benissimo che non avrebbe mai combattuto contro il sangue del suo sangue, e per ciò aveva svolto il rito del sangue. Per metterlo in a bad light, to make it appear a loser. A coward. Ruruk felt anger mounted, he brought his hand to his cheek and he dipped his finger in the blood of Rodarek. Drew his sword, he observed the blade corroded by time and passed the dirty finger narrowing of blood along the wire. Observed welcomed his blood mixed with that of his brother run from the tip to the hilt and then turned around. Rodarek still stood waiting, pleased and ready to take his place in command of the orcs.
-Accept the challenge! - Ruruk roared. Bears launched a war cry.
still on winter evenings, in front of a fireplace, the singers telling you earn a hot soup the battle between the two brothers. And children listen with their mouths open as the snow on the highest peaks, frightened by the deafening noise caused by the clash of swords, comes off in huge landslides. They fought long and lost the thread when the blades swords used as clubs. When guns broke was the turn of the teeth and tusks, which sank in the skin and muscles. Finally came the sun and the two brothers slumped exhausted in the snow red with blood all around them. There was no winners or losers that day, the day he began the War of the Brothers.
***
Ufthak To return to this was like being ripped off by a sweet dream. Was usually evoke the legends of his people as he waited calmly for a fish to bite his hook. By now he had become an old ogre and his mind was no longer what it once was. The gears of his brain take a long time to produce complex reasoning, but when they were fishing and old legends no one could pass him. It seemed that the memories of her life are gradually disappearing to make room for the verses of a poem or the name of a great king of the past. Fishing gave him the peace of mind suitable to train your mind to sculpt in marble of memory the words of the epic. Fish every day for not weighing on his son, who had welcomed him home. Every night his family could enjoy the aroma of fresh fish and coming out of the hut was the envy of their neighbors. Sometimes after dinner, when the afternoon games were not too exhausted his grandchildren, he would sit with a blanket over my legs and told a story. In secret, she also tried to compose verses, he hoped, would one day be loved just as he declaimed and recited and loved ones of the poets and singers of his era.
Well that morning, just as in his head resounded the shouts of the battle of the two brothers, founders of the race of orcs, get to hear a horse galloping. Was still far, but his ears had become very sensitive when in a skirmish, many years before, had lost his right eye. He was then all the time to prepare for the meeting, certain that there would be a meeting since judging by the noise louder the horse was coming to his side.
He had prepared to welcome the stranger with a summons, the greeting Bears reserve to their king, but was surprised and upset when the other side of the river came out of the vegetation the horse, and riding on it nothing less than a man. With the angry face watched him react to the surprise of facing the water and pull the reins abruptly to avoid ending up wet. Ufthak discovered he could not have been noticed, which was quite normal as her skin wrinkled and gray-made him look like a rock. To attract attention he cleared his voice strong, resulting in a fit of coughing.
-Good morning - greeted after recovering.
-It 's strange to see a man around here .-
The other, struggling to regain control of the mount, after a moment of bewilderment replied
-It' s strange that an ogre to give me a good morning, those I have met so far were limited to laugh and make comments about my pale complexion. Good morning to you! -
Ufthak chuckled and said, "He must have met
-only open-minded and ignorant young orcs. Nobody appreciates more young poetry, they think only to hunting. And no more fishing if not some old ogress and Ufthak here, so in addition to not having time for the stories often do not even have much food in my stomach.
-
must admit, however, that better fills the belly of a wild boar rather than a fish.
-If the fish is resistant to my love, I cut the line and the fish escapes. If the boar survives to my arrow, I have to run away.
-Very witty, very witty. The sorry to know that he is talking to a hunter, but I assure you that I appreciate the beautiful songs and poems.
"What brings you here singing a hunter? And human to come .-
-I must speak with the chief of your tribe .-
Ufthak scratched his head thoughtfully, then a shrill voice exclaimed,
-I think we have a problem .-
-What kind of problem? - Churches concerned about each other.
-The village is behind me, and to reach it must necessarily cross the river, the current is strong and high tide. Bridges are not there .- He added:-I .-
The hunter looked around and after a quick analysis remarked
-It seems to me that here the river is low enough, my horse through it with ease .-
-E 'except, I scare the fish! -

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