Friday, August 20, 2010

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riddles ogre

Ufthak occasionally glanced at the other side to check what was by the human. He was convinced that he would soon be gone, but every time I looked up was surprised to find him still there, sitting staring at the line focus. After an hour of stubborn silence the old ogre, shaking his head addressed him:
-You, over there! Why not try another crossing point, where?
-This is the only ford I've found, are days I'm looking for a ride.
-Do you have to be crazy.
The man shrugged his shoulders with contempt.
Ufthak chuckled. -And why not just walk? I'm just an old man, you have no fear of me! -
The other did not answer.
-What's your name son? -
-Ollerus, sir .-
Ufthak nodded, thinking that the name was familiar, but failing to report to memory where he had heard.
-My name is Ufthak. Now we will do so, Ollerus: I understand that you are a man that respects and does not want me wrong. But see, I doubt that a fish abboccherà time soon. If I paid a toll to pass me there would be no problem, because both would be happy, right?
-guess so.
-Well, then this is my money: you get the right answer three riddles, only then you can go. But if you go wrong go back to where you came from.
Ollerus hesitated, but then decided:
-It seems fair. Question as well, old man! -
Ufthak are racking their brains in search of some old questions. As a child he often played with his brother to the riddles, spent hours inventing word games and rhymes. Finally found something
-front is short if it is long behind .-
-Vecchio - Ollerus answered immediately:-I travel for months. Can you imagine how many times I look back to realize how far I had traveled? And every time the thought that every mile that I was leaving behind a mile in less that separated me from my destination. My answer is the way .- The ogre
opened his toothless mouth with laughter, but not from his throat came no sound. The eye became a crack and the jaws are clenched in a dull pop.
-Too simple, you say! Yes, maybe so. Then answer this: How
resistant steel,
death of several patients.
Our roots are deep
but enough to make us round the Wind.
There was silence. Ufthak took great pleasure in scanning the face of rival contract. He had gone too far with that answer so arrogant and now it was no longer a game. He watched her fingers twitch in a mixture of anger and intoxication. He slowly stood up.
-So do not you answer? - Even he noticed the hysterical note in his own words.
Ollerus approached the hand the hilt of the sword before answering
-old I'll give you my answer, but remember the deal: if I'm wrong I'm going back, nothing more. Do not force me to remove it.
-Reply! -
I-mountains. The mountains that over time they see them become more and more top round because of bad weather. The ogre
growl of despair and he asked angrily: "How did you do? You already know the answer, cheat! Baro! Traitor -
-No! We are located at the eastern end of the region that we call Vanegard or Wavelands. The hills you see around us in ancient times mountains were made smooth by the wind. The answer to your question was beneath our feet.
Again there was silence between the two, and Ollerus feared for the worst. But Ufthak ruled the last question with a throaty voice full of hatred
beautiful as the setting sun.
delicate as the dew in the morning.
Powder Heavenly
illuminates the earth.
-This is not a riddle! - Ollerus protested. The other
not look at him and spoke to him. Joined hands cupped and dipped into the stream. Once they were filled took them to the face and received the fresh water in the mouth. Under the astonished eyes of the old ogre Ollerus savings again the liquid in his hands clasped together, then drew a circle with it on the ground around them. While standing inside the circle and took off the clothes they dipped in the river to lay them carefully on the rocky bed. He took a stone from the shore and placed it heavy enough so that the clothes were not worn away by the current.
-Tomorrow morning I'll give the answer. Pray that is right.
Ollerus remained on shore until he saw the ogre disappear. On the other side had been a fishing rod in the water and clothes. He was well aware of having seen a magic ritual. Once, when he was a child, he saw a magician in his own race. Those were the good old days when the family lived in a city that still could be called "home." I well remember the magician, because he was deeply frightened. He walked around the streets in rags, begging and pleading for a touch of bread. He was old, dirty and with the stubble. He asked his father who he was and his father had uttered a word, strange, sad voice and respectful: sorcerer. If Ollerus was bigger than a few years would have stopped to examine the stiffness of the legs of the beggar, the steps dragged as if a weight on his shoulders. But she had not yet been able to read about the sorcerer's how the magic drains the body and the soul of men who have the arrogance to use it. It is said that each spell to the wizard asks a pawn, a piece of life, memories, of the body. Every time something is different and the sorcerer never know what will lose out after the spell has been released. When it is too late. The older wizards become empty shells until they are no longer able even to beg. And when you have nothing to offer as collateral, the magic takes their humanity, making them immortal. Men without a past or a present, but only an eternal future. They are called in tears, because the only emotion they feel is the pain of not being able to use the power of magic, not having anything to offer. Yet
Ollerus had just seen a ritual without consequences. He was astonished and frightened. He wondered what would happen if he tried to cross the river, but decided that he would never have found out, too risky. He wondered if he should di fuggire, ma sapeva di per certo che uno stregone lo avrebbe facilmente trovato. Aveva accettato la sfida con leggerezza ed ora doveva affrontarla con serietà. Richiamò il cavallo, che nel frattempo era andato a pascolare, per legarlo ad un albero. Aveva deciso di accamparsi e di pensare alla risposta.
Passarono diverse ore nelle quali si affaccendò a creare un bivacco e a procacciarsi del cibo. Catturò una quaglia e la cucinò per cena su un fuoco improvvisato. Intanto continuava a ripetersi nella testa il quesito, per non correre il rischio di dimenticarlo. Dopo cena, quando ormai il buio era calato, si sedette con la schiena appoggiata ad un tronco. Fumava la pipa guardando le stelle ed ascoltando il dolce suono del fiume.
beautiful as the setting sun. had to think like an ogre, to understand the aesthetic of a different race. Delicata.
knew a little 'history of the orcs, he had read legends and stories, and yet ...
The eyelids were growing heavy.
quell'orco wanted to win ... yet. He guessed the road and the mountains because he had relatives. Surely the answer was something foreign.
light upon the earth.
The last thing I thought before falling asleep was: white.
The eyelids are dyed a deep red when the early morning sun hit the face of Ollerus. Resulting from the intense pain caused dilation of the pupils did wake up the man with a start. For a moment he felt disoriented and lost, but while the last remnants of a forgotten dream already left on tiptoe his mind he remembered where he was and what he was doing there now lying in the grass after having been dry most of the night contact with the bonfire. Any doubt was unraveled when, raising his eyes swollen with sleep, she saw a blurry figure on the other side of river. When she finally was able to focus on the figure is more than a little surprised: the ogre Ufthak was there, crouched, staring at him maliciously. Ollerus decided to divert lo sguardo e di ignorarlo. Aprì una saccoccia e ne estrasse delle erbe che profumavano di fresco, poi si alzò e andò verso il suo cavallo, che ancora dormiva. La sella giaceva poco distante, la raggiunse e si mise ad armeggiare con cinghie e tasche. Trovò finalmente la sua tazza di acciaio grezzo, la riempì con l'acqua della sua borraccia e la posò sulle braci ancora calde del falò della sera prima. Non appena l'acqua si mise ad emettere vapore buttò dentro le erbe aromatiche ed aspettò. Poco dopo l'aria era satura dell'odore del timo e della gramigna. Quando la tisana fu pronta Ollerus prese la tazza bollente senza scottarsi, grazie alle fasce di cuoio che portava legate sulle mani per evitare che durante le lunghe cavalcate si formassero i calli. Sorseggiando la bevanda ed assaporandone l'effetto benefico che si diffondeva in tutto il suo corpo andò a sedersi in riva al fiume, proprio di fronte al punto in cui lo aspettava l'orco. Continuò a bere guardandolo dritto negli occhi, ma non si scambiarono nessuna parola. Solo quando la tazza fu vuota Ollerus spezzò il silenzio:
-Mi aiuta a rilassarmi.
-Voglio la risposta.
La voce dell'orco sembrava più calma quella mattina, ma non per questo meno minacciosa.
-Prenderò prima la spada, se non le dispiace.
Ufthak sogghignò. Mentre Ollerus si legava la cinta con il fodero alla vita, l'orco riprese dall'acqua i vestiti del giorno prima e ran his hand over the river surface. Ollerus realized that the spell had been removed and asked
-What would happen to me if I tried to cross? You'd be dead .-
-Ufthak said. He stretched out his clothes carefully on a rock nearby, then turned back to his opponent:
-You're not so arrogant now. You should not have to challenge me .- He said chuckling.
-I challenged her! - Objective Ollerus.
-You had to be wrong! You cheated and you've guessed it! Nobody makes fun Ufthak. I am the great poet of the puzzles! - Shouted the old man rubbed his eyes. Something gave way in his mind, the day before. For too many years lived in an ephemeral world, made up of stories and legends, where poets were gods and heroes by their mere puppets singing. By now he had come to believe that a god himself, but the puppet that was before he had dared to pass him in intelligence.
Ollerus was wrinkled from being frightened and fascinated that wiggled across the Rhine. He knew that despite the fragile appearance, fangs and claws of an old ogre were deadly. The time consuming but the skin hardening the bones of an ogre.
-Give me your answer, do your duty, you lose and die like a good puppet!
-old I have not cheated. But she is not the rules.
-The rules are mine!
-Va well. But the enigma is a fraud. I would bet that really is a poem written by one of you. If so, then I wonder what an ogre can love and feel as beautiful as the setting sun. I say all this to show her that I'm not deceiving. But she has betrayed you, sir. The answer is: snow.
Ufthak stood almost petrified. Then from the depths of his throat came a groan in despair, like a baby asking for food.
-How? How? You do not know the snow, you've never seen it!
-But I know the legends, Ufthak. I said I was betrayed, and it is true. The answers to his riddles were all connected by the same storia. La strada, attraverso le montagne, per fuggire alla neve.
-La Guerra dei Fratelli.- Disse l'orco con un filo di voce. Ma ormai non parlava più con Ollerus, era un sussurro a se stesso, e tanti altri ne seguirono. L'uomo provò a chiamarlo, ma ben presto capì che Ufthak non vedeva più ciò che gli stava intorno. Sarebbe rinvenuto dalla sua follia e sarebbe tornato a casa come ogni sera, ma per ora non esisteva altro che lo sconforto. Ollerus decise di sellare il cavallo, raccogliere le sue cose ed avviarsi verso la sua meta. Aveva meritato il passaggio del guado.


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