Audiobook /narration
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General) Scottish (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Tunggal Sharp dwarf envision soon adapted to the darkness. The walls around him had been hewn cleanly from the dark flesh of the mountain and polished machine. Smooth services were the hallmark of dwarf in masonry. You couldn't imagine a human labor going to such lengths. The chilling legend of Cloud Piercer had sounded convincing at the time, but he no longer gave it much credence from the evidence around him seemed likely that the mountain it served as a dwelling, not a mine. Tunggal clambered up a short flight of steps and came to an open pork Youlus beyond the rays grading Ah, heavy oak door, reinforced with metal has its and steel plating stood ajar. He knew there would be no way out if the door slammed behind him. Hello, is that you, Master Golden? Is there anyone there For a while, he listened to the doll echo of his shouts. Then the deathly hush returned. He went in. Master Gordon, can you hear me? He called. My name is Total. I'm here on an errand from a lot I in the last thing he needed was to be mistaken for an intruder. Hidden behind the door was a set of levers with which the pork Ulis could be raised or lowered. It made a dreadful racket, as he discovered by trying it out. Sony! He shouted, hurrying on. It was time he found Goran the tunnel delve deeper and deeper inside the mountain. After a while, Tunggal could almost convince himself that he had stumbled on a dwarf and stronghold. Staircases and passageways wound into the core of the enduring rock, and for the first time he had a clear idea of what it would be like to live with his kinfolk and one of good Lagarde's ranges at length, He came to the kitchen large chamber, neatly hollowed from the rock, cooked with stoves and kitchenware that had not been used for some time. Master Gordon Tunggal sat down, lowered his packs and waited a while. Terrible thought occurred to him. Who's to say that Goran isn't dead? Galvanized into action, he put aside his reticence and began to search the place for anything that might lead him to the wizard. He flung open one of the doors and strode along the corridor. It took him to another chamber of vast dimensions. At least 200 paces long by 40 paces wide and full of plants. The allotment had been laid out in accordance with horticultural lore, but the plot had been sorely neglected and was overgrown with weeds. Despite the musty air. A system of mirrors provided the plants with adequate light, while slits in the ceiling took care of the watering, allowing rain to seep through and plopped to the earth in a steady stream of drops. Tunggal battled his way through the rampant vegetation, rejoined the corridor and came to a study. Chaos inside was all too familiar. Every surface, including the floor, was littered with blue sheets of parchment, closely written manuscript in abandoned books. Surely he couldn't have written all this, he marveled aloud. There was enough material to fill a good sized library. Gingerly, he rifled through the papers looking for clues.