Merlin and the Search for Roman Britain (Puffin Adventure Puzzle Books) pdf epub mobi txt 电子书 下载 2026

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出版者:Puffin Books

作者:Clive Brown

出品人:

页数:0

译者:

出版时间:1993-06-24

价格:0

装帧:Paperback

isbn号码:9780140362367

丛书系列:

图书标签:

• Merlin
• Roman Britain
• Adventure
• Puzzle
• Children's Books
• Mythology
• History
• Puffin
• Fiction
• Mystery

Merlin and the Quest for the Lost Dragon Egg Deep within the Whispering Woods, where ancient trees guarded secrets older than time itself, lived a young magician named Merlin. Not the wise, bearded sage of legend, but a spirited boy brimming with curiosity and a heart as brave as a knight’s. His days were usually filled with the gentle hum of arcane studies, practicing spells that sometimes fizzled and sometimes sparkled with unexpected brilliance, and tending to his collection of peculiar, glowing mushrooms. However, this particular morning, an unusual tremor rippled through the very fabric of the woods, sending shivers down Merlin’s spine. The air crackled with an unseen energy, and the usually serene forest was abuzz with a worried rustling of leaves. A frantic flapping of wings announced the arrival of Pip, a raven with feathers like midnight and eyes that held an ancient intelligence. Pip was Merlin’s most trusted messenger, and his distress was palpable. With a series of urgent caws and sharp gestures of his beak, Pip conveyed a dire message. The Dragon’s Lair, a mystical cavern nestled atop the treacherous Obsidian Peaks, had been raided. The most precious artifact within – the Lumina Dragon Egg, a source of immense power and balance for the realm – was gone. Without its warmth and radiance, the very essence of magic in the surrounding lands would begin to fade, plunging the world into a chilling twilight. Merlin’s heart sank. He knew the legends of the Lumina Dragon Egg, whispered in hushed tones by his mentor, the reclusive sorceress Elara. It was said to be the last of its kind, imbued with the primal magic of creation, capable of nurturing life and banishing darkness. Its disappearance was a catastrophe of unimaginable proportions. The responsibility fell upon Merlin, the most promising young mage in the region, to retrieve it. His journey would not be easy. The path to the Obsidian Peaks was fraught with peril. The Whispering Woods itself held hidden dangers, from mischievous sprites who delighted in misdirection to shadowy creatures that lurked in the deepest thickets. Beyond the woods lay the Sunken Marshes, a treacherous expanse of bubbling mud and illusions, where the unwary could be swallowed whole. And finally, the formidable Obsidian Peaks, jagged mountains that clawed at the sky, rumored to be guarded by territorial griffins and haunted by the lingering whispers of ancient battles. Merlin, however, was not one to shy away from a challenge. He gathered his meager supplies: a satchel woven from moonbeams, containing a few dried berries, a small pouch of shimmering dust that could reveal hidden paths, and his trusty wooden staff, carved from a lightning-struck oak. He also packed a small, leather-bound journal, its pages blank and waiting to be filled with the unfolding adventure, and a polished obsidian shard, a gift from Elara, which could amplify his magical focus in times of need. His first obstacle was the Whispering Woods. As he ventured deeper, the trees seemed to lean in, their branches forming an impenetrable canopy that plunged the forest into perpetual twilight. The air grew heavy, and the whispers, usually gentle, took on a more ominous tone, carrying fragmented riddles and deceptive suggestions. Merlin relied on his keen senses and the faint glow of his mushroom collection, which pulsed with an encouraging rhythm, to guide him. He encountered a grove of sentient, whispering ferns that tried to lead him astray with promises of shortcuts, but Merlin, remembering Elara’s teachings about illusion and deception, used his staff to disrupt their enchantments, their whispers fading into a confused rustle. Emerging from the woods, Merlin found himself at the edge of the Sunken Marshes. The ground here was a deceptive tapestry of emerald moss and dark, churning water. Mist hung low, obscuring the true depth of the pools and conjuring phantoms that danced at the periphery of his vision. He knew that direct passage was impossible. He needed a way to traverse the mire without sinking. Recalling a lesson on elemental magic, Merlin focused his energy, drawing upon the earth’s resilience. With a surge of power from his staff, he conjured a series of firm, moss-covered stones that appeared just inches above the murky surface, creating a precarious but passable bridge. Each step was a test of balance and courage, the air thick with the scent of decay and the unsettling gurgle of unseen creatures beneath the water. The Sunken Marshes eventually gave way to the foothills of the Obsidian Peaks. The air grew colder, and the landscape transformed into a stark, rugged beauty. Jagged, black rocks rose like broken teeth against the bruised sky. The wind howled, carrying with it the mournful cries of unseen predators. Merlin, though weary, pressed on, his determination fueled by the gravity of his mission. He had to reach the Dragon’s Lair before the Lumina Dragon Egg’s magic completely dissipated. As he ascended, he encountered the griffins, majestic and fearsome creatures with the bodies of lions and the wings and heads of eagles. They guarded their territories fiercely, their piercing screeches echoing through the canyons. Merlin knew he couldn’t fight them directly. Instead, he employed a strategy of careful evasion and appeasement. He used his shimmering dust to cloak himself in invisibility, slipping past their watchful eyes. He also remembered a tale of how griffins were drawn to the scent of wild mountain herbs. He gathered a handful of the most aromatic specimens and left them as an offering at the foot of a prominent peak, a gesture of respect and a plea for safe passage. To his relief, the griffins, their sharp eyes scanning him, seemed to acknowledge his offering and allowed him to pass, their screeches softening into a low rumble. The Dragon’s Lair was an awe-inspiring sight, a gaping maw carved into the very heart of the tallest peak. Inside, the air thrummed with residual magic, and the walls shimmered with veins of precious minerals. The nest, where the Lumina Dragon Egg had once rested, was now empty, a stark reminder of the theft. However, the perpetrator had not been entirely thorough. Near the edge of the nest, Merlin found a single, dark feather, unlike any bird he knew. It was tinged with an unnatural, smoky aura, and it felt strangely cold to the touch. This was his first solid clue. He knew this feather belonged to a creature of shadow and deceit, a formidable foe indeed. The Lumina Dragon Egg was not merely an object of power; it was a symbol of hope and renewal. Its loss meant that the delicate balance between light and darkness was tipping precariously. Merlin’s quest was not just about retrieving an artifact; it was about safeguarding the very essence of magic and preventing the encroaching of despair. His journey was far from over, and the unknown enemy who had stolen the egg was undoubtedly cunning and powerful. But as Merlin clutched the dark feather, a new resolve hardened within him. He would find the thief, he would recover the Lumina Dragon Egg, and he would restore the balance to his world, no matter the cost. His adventure was just beginning, and the fate of magic itself rested upon his young, determined shoulders.

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