Ведьмак: Кровь эльфов

           "Thisisnotfitting,gentlemen!Nothere,underBleobheris’crown,anoakolderthanallthedisputesandquarrelsoftheworld!AndnotinPoetDandilion’spresence,fromwhoseballadsweoughttolearnoflove,notcontention."

           "Quiteso!"ashort,fatpriestwithafaceglisteningwithsweatsecondedthedruid."Youlookbuthavenoeyes,youlistenbuthavedeafears.Becausedivineloveisnotinyou,youarelikeemptybarrels—"

           "Speakingofbarrels,"squeakedalong-nosedgnomefromhiscart,paintedwithasignfor"Ironhardware,manufactureandsale","rollanotherout,guildsmen!PoetDandilion’sthroatissurelydry–andourstoo,fromalltheseemotions!"

           "—Verily,likeemptybarrels,Itellye!"Thepriest,determinednottobeputoff,drownedouttheironwaregnome."YouhaveunderstoodnothingofMasterDandilion’sballad,youhavelearnednothing!Youdidnotseethattheseballadsspeakofman’sfate,thatwearenomorethantoysinthehandsofthegods,ourlandsnomorethantheirplayground.Theballadsaboutdestinyportrayedthedestiniesofusall,andthelegendofGeralttheWitcherandPrincessCirilla–althoughitissetagainstthetruebackgroundofthatwar–is,afterall,ameremetaphor,thecreationofapoet’simaginationdesignedtohelpus—"

           "You’retalkingrubbish,holyman!"holleredVeraLoewenhauptfromtheheightsofhercart."Whatlegend?Whatimaginativecreation?Youmaynotknowhim,butIknowGeraltofRivia.