home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
Amiga Collections: Nordlicht Spiele
/
Nordlicht Spiele 23-08 (19xx)(Nordlicht)(DE)(PD).zip
/
Nordlicht Spiele 23-08 (19xx)(Nordlicht)(DE)(PD).adf
/
Introduction
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1992-09-02
|
3KB
|
57 lines
Introduction
Doran sat back on the simple wooden steps of his family home
and stared out across the crimson lake. The sun had half-set and a
gentle breeze blowing off the water caught his long dark hair and blew
it into his eyes. Brushing it out of the way he sighed and fixed his
eyes on the flock of birds just visible on the water near the horizon.
What was he going to do about the harvest? He had to do it but it was
so boring. What about the wine? He had promised his father that he
would help. What about his ambitions? What ambitions? They had sunk
along with Dilys in the spring. Nothing really seemed worth
bothering about now.
"Get off your backside!" The remark came from below Doran, and
he looked down to see a small robin sitting on the bottom step
squarely looking up at him. The wind must have been playing tricks.
Doran was quite tired. "I said get off your backside and do
something." There was no doubt this time; he had seen the robin move
its beak.
"Why are you talking to me, robin?" he asked, not really sure
what to say. Was he really talking to a robin?
"You're feeling sorry for yourself and wasting time. Either
tell me why or get up and do something positive." The robin seemed
quite snappy. Doran thought for a moment and then asked,
"Do you really want to know why I am so fed-up?" The robin
nodded. "Ok, come and sit here and I'll tell you." Without another
word the robin hopped up two steps and sat down on the edge of the
third, beside the boy with its legs dangling over the side. It looked
sideways and up at him. Doran took a deep breath and began to tell his
small listener about his birth-betrothal to the blacksmith's
daughter, Dilys, and how three months before the intended wedding
she had died in a boating accident while on the lake with her
father. Now everything seemed rather pointless and unnecessary. Just
a drag. When he had finished the robin sighed a small sigh and said to
him,
"What you really need is something to do. Ok, she died, but so
what? She's not that dead; I can go see her every day if I want to.
Infact, I ordered her death. She doesn't really mind you know." Doran
turned to the little bird with sudden anger and realisation. "Yes,"
replied the robin to his look, "my name is Gorm, ruler of the Gods
of Everything, and ruler of you as well. Dilys' death was a planned
event to prepare you for the task for which you were born. You are
to undertake the Quest for Residence." Doran could hardly believe
what he was hearing. The Quest for Residence was something that
modern villagers dismissed as legend, the great test for an individual
of mind, body and courage whose prize was to become a god.
"Are you sure that you have the right person?" asked Doran,
beginning to get slightly nervous. The robin, Gorm, replied simply,
"Yes. Your quest will begin when you wake tomorrow." He flew
away across the lake into the almost-set sun.