Книга только для ознакомления
. Undaunted, the
amateur wizard skipped the rest of the page and began
reading the ancient words at the bottom of the parchment.
His pronunciation and understanding of the forgotten
elvish dialect had grown more accurate with each reading
of Dalamar's scroll's. This time, his dwarven accents had
dwindled to a mere trace, as had much of his original
personality before it was dominated by the dark elf's spells
and robe. Lodston intoned the ancient words perfectly,
letting the scroll's dweomer fuse with the vestiges of
Dalamar's power within his mind and body.
MARGASH JORAS NOLLEN
GRATH GRISSIT DORSI, GRISSIT
BLUDE;
ITEL FOMA DRILID SHUDE;
MARGASH NEPPS U HALLEM GRATH!
OBEY THESE WORDS OF POWER
WATCHERS OF THE THRESHOLD, WATCHERS AT
THE GATE,
UNBAR THE GUARDED DOOR;
OBEY THE COMMAND OF THIS SERVANT OF
POWER!
Beneath the dwarf's feet, the firm rock floor seemed to
quiver as he spoke the final spellwords. Lodston's untrained
concentration shattered completely when a thin stream of
opaque light seemed to slice through both floor and ceiling
of his sturdy artificial cave. The frightened hermit collapsed
in a babbling heap on the floor, shielding his face from the
intensifying light
|
