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Inscrit le : 27 Aoû 2003
Messages : 1805
Localisation : Paris, à 2m de sa blonde...
Séries favorites : Celles qui finissent mal...
Inscrit le : 27 Aoû 2003
Messages : 1805
Localisation : Paris, à 2m de sa blonde...
Séries favorites : Celles qui finissent mal...
Bon, je poste ma toute première nouvelle... Désolé, elle est en anglais et j'ai un peu la flemme de la traduire pour l'instant (si vraiment ça interesse plein de gens qui savent pas lire cette belle langue, je ferais peut être un effort )
Bref, a la base, c'est un boulot pour un cours d'anglais, mais disons que le sujet est assez libre et que j'ai pu faire un truc que ça faisait longtemps que ça me titillait
Donc voila! Enjoy!
Voila, si vous avez des remarques (y doit rester des fautes, j'ai relu, mais superficiellement : j'étais un peu fatigué et puis ses propre fautes, c'est bien connu, on les vois mieux quand on nous les montre )
Et bien sur, toute ressemblance avec des personnes, pseudos ou trucs existant ou pouvant se trouver sur ce forum est purement fortuite
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Bref, a la base, c'est un boulot pour un cours d'anglais, mais disons que le sujet est assez libre et que j'ai pu faire un truc que ça faisait longtemps que ça me titillait
Donc voila! Enjoy!
Citation :
Just like a Dream
The sun was setting down. The warrior grumbled. It would be harder for him to find his way in the dungeon now. But he had been through more difficult tasks and the reward was about to match his expectations : the sorcerer’s treasure was to be his, especially the magic Orb! He was so focused on the idea that he didn’t heard the two mountain trolls coming…
The first time he heard about the magic Orb, he was still a newbie, full of confidence that he was a future hero… He was drinking a so-called dwarven beer at the desk of the Fuming Dragon, an almost descent tavern along the road to Cadria, when a man in a dark cloak entered the common room. What was he doing in such a place ? Well, when you aim to be the most famous warrior of all Kyrandia you had better to look for some jobs in place where such people are needed… Moreover when you are just an unknown rookie.
So here he was when the dark fellow entered. The stranger went to the place next to him and ordered a drink he had never heard the name before. When served, the dark man looked at it for a few seconds and then turn towards the young warrior.
“See, he told, you seem to be a smart guy, and because I feel some sympathy for your fate, I’m going to give you a hint!”
And so it began. The man turned out to be a druid named N’aa Raïk and whose main task had been to guard an elderly artefact in some profane temple far away on the other side of the realm… Until this powerful artefact had been stolen two moons ago. Since then, he had been tracking the thief, and recent discovery seemed to prove that its was nearby, in the Darathor’s shrine. The druid would have gone there to retrieve the stolen if not Darathor, the god of dark art, hadn’t been the brother of the one he served : Arkania, goddess of the white magic. And so it was totally forbidden for him and his kind to go in such a place ordered to another God, especially a dark one. Plus he had desert his function for too long and needed to return to his temple, where other lesser artefacts still were…
That was the reason the druid went to this pub : to found a brave one who could enter the sacred place, retrieve the artefact and give it back to its rightful owner. In exchange, the proud warrior would get what his heart long the most for. As the matter of fact, the stolen artefact was the legendary Dream Orb that could offer a man anything he wanted… Just one use of it wouldn’t damage anybody nor the Orb. Then the Orb would retrieve its place in Arkania’s temple and everything would be fine. Of course, there would be servants of Darathor to try and arrest him, but would it be enough to stop him, a true brave warrior ?
So he began his travel for the shrine. It wasn’t so easy to found even with all the pieces of information the druid gave him before letting him go in his errand. Darathor was a dark god and its followers were discreet ones. For a long time, all he heard of was clearly pure superstition : some said that its temple stood in the middle of a lava lake and that a dragon kept the entrance days and nights as if it were its treasure. Others told him that Darathor’s followers were actually man-shaped demons that gather in cemeteries to kill recently born babies or virgins in the name of their god… But he wasn’t stupid enough to believe all of this!
He had been searching for nearly six months when, somehow, his efforts gave fruits : A young girl he saved from an hungry ogre told him that an evil sorcerer named Taharrod was in fact the great priest of Darathor. Actually, the ogre was one of his spawns and wasn’t after her only because he was hungry : she had accidentally discover the hidden shrine deep in the forest when she was picking up some herbs and some mushrooms for her diner. Of course she could lead him to the place, he was so strong and brave, but she preferred not going back to this dangerous place : who knows what kind of creature might be send against her as soon as he would be in the dungeon, and she could be less lucky this time…
Anyway, she lead him through the forest and explained him how to resume the trip to the temple. The building was more a carved-in-the-mountain fortress than a real shrine : the main entrance was about twenty feet high and seven large. What kind of giant could have used this kind of door ? So he start search for the back door, for all of the Darathor’s followers couldn’t possibly be this tall. He finally found a numerous set of foot steps leading to a rock, that actually hid a way going deep into the mountain.
He dried the trolls’ blood from his sword with a side of his tunic : those creatures’ blood was so acid that it could damage the best steel if you let it in contact long enough… And an adventurer with a dull sword was a dead one ! At least, he had learned that from his errand. He had learn that some of the rumours he had heard during his search had always a part of truth : Just some times before, he had to kill some veiled fellows that must have been some kind of demons with strange scales where you expected smooth skin… and some of the bones he found in a corner of a cellar where a bit too small to even be dwarves’ ones… He was wondering what will come next : a dragon or a lava lake… His last fight against the two sneaky trolls might have warm him more than usual, or was it that he was approaching something extraordinary hot ? He was about to open the next door, and mostly the last one from the look of it, when he stopped : something was wrong… well actually it smelled good…
“Marvin! Dinner’s ready! Stop playing and come to eat!”
Then little Marvin, ten years old, leap from the abandoned house and cross the garden to his own home. Playing in these ruins was funny but mom’s lamp was the best. Plus he was starving! So the treasure could wait…
END
Voila, si vous avez des remarques (y doit rester des fautes, j'ai relu, mais superficiellement : j'étais un peu fatigué et puis ses propre fautes, c'est bien connu, on les vois mieux quand on nous les montre )
Et bien sur, toute ressemblance avec des personnes, pseudos ou trucs existant ou pouvant se trouver sur ce forum est purement fortuite
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