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Читы для Betrayal at Krondor

Чит-файл для Betrayal at Krondor

Betrayal at Krondor

 За игрой пока никто не наблюдает. Первым будете?

Выдержка из Энциклопедии игр

Издатель:Sierra On-Line
Жанры:RPG / 3D

Даты выхода игры

вышла в 1993 г.

Hint [ENG]

Информация актуальна для
by lsd

~ Moredhel box - wordlock's answer ~

The light one breaks but never falls.
His brother falls but never breaks.

Swollag, the famous moredhel
craftsman, guarantees his work
until the end of time.

The chill of its death,
You may soon mourn.
But though it dies,
It cannot be born.

You see it about in field and town,
It cannot get up,
But will oft fall down.

They feel no pain,
No sorrow, no greed.
They have no anger,
No hatred, nor need.

Though easy to spot,
when allowed to plume,
It is hard to see,

When held in a room.

Be you ever so quick,
With vision keen,
By your eyes,
We are never seen.
Unless, perchance,
It should come to pass,
You see our reflection,
In a looking glass.

A precious gift, this,
Yet it has no end or beginning,
And in the middle, nothing.

Silently he stalks me,
Running as I run,
Creeping as I creep.
Dressed in black,
He disappears at night,
Only to return with the sun.

Buckets, barrels, baskets, cans;
What must you fill with empty hands?

It flies without wings,
Strikes without beak, teeth,
or talons. It has no eyes
in its pointed head,
but it can kill birds in flight.

Up and down they go,
but never move...

He gets short when he gets old.
He goes out then it gets cold.

The strongest chains will not bind it,
ditch and rampart will not slow it down.
A thousand soldiers cannot beat it,
it can knock down trees with a single push.

Moredhel brothers, make it rain,
Kingdom rivers, crimson pain!

An untiring servant it is,
carrying loads across muddy earth.
But one thing that cannot be forced,
is a return to the place of its birth.

With sharp edged wit,
And pointed poise,
It can settle disputes,
Without a noise.

Power enough to smash ships
and crush roofs. Yet it still
must fear the sun.

Today he is there to trip you up,
And he will torture you tomorrow.
Yet he is also there to ease the pain,
When you are lost in grief and sorrow.

Death to our Enemies!
no Living adversary shall
Escape the new King of these isles.
He will lead us to glory
And provide New lands for our people!

Moredhel And Pantathian,
Guarding Our Lid, Did
Close Her Ever So Tightly.

It can hold you,
But you cannot hold it.
And the more you remove,
The bigger it will get.

It can pierce the best armor,
And make swords crumble with a rub.
Yet for all its power,
It can't harm a club.

With this one thing alone,
you will have defeated
even the strongest foe.

Three fools did once sacrifice,
To win a contest long ago.
Dobe Oyle, a Kingdom lad,
gave his blood to start.
A goblin man, Ethorat,
hacked out his dying heart.
Sou Oyle, Dobe's sister, won,
she cast away her soul.

He got it in the woods and
brought it home in his hand
because he couldn't find it.
The more he looked for it the
more he felt it. When he finally
found it he threw it away.

A barrel of rainwater
weighs twenty pounds.
What must you add
to make it weigh fifteen?

Kingdom fools are born without,
A lot of this,
there is no doubt.

They go up white,
but come down yellow and white.

We love it more than life.
We fear it more than death.
The wealthy want for it.
The poor have it in plenty.

Asks no questions,
but demands many answers.
Don't knock it until you
are ready to see what waits
on the other side.

At last you may solve this.

You can spin, wheel and twist.
But it can turn without moving.

Who works when he plays,
and plays when he works?

Prince Arutha, from his lofty perch,
Will find our troops without a search.
His men will fall, his castle too,
And then what will Prince Arutha do?

Names give power.
Magic to control.
But what is broken,
by naming it?

The language of men,
can be mastered.
But what Kingdom word
is always pronounced wrong?

Brought to the table.
Cut and served.
Never eaten.

Widows and orphans,
Parents and kin.
This is disturbed most
by riots and war.

It can move over water,
But cannot fly.
It can move under water,
But stay quite dry.

Has tongue,
But cannot talk.
But cannot walk.

We don't need wine,
We don't need meat.
We have sharp teeth,
But cannot eat.

It stands while others sit.
It groans when it is too full.
It has four legs, but cannot run.

It goes past gates,
but asks no one's leave.
It runs clear around castles,
without taking a step.
Never resting, never still.
Moving silently, hill to hill.
It does not walk, run or trot,
All is cool where it is not.

Passed from father to son,
And shared between brothers.
Its importance is unquestioned,
Though it is used more by others.

What goes with a wagon that
doesn't benefit the wagon,
but the wagon cannot move without?

The one who made it,
didn't want it.
The one who bought it,
didn't need it.
The one who used it,
never saw it.

What has a mare,
That the cow has not?

This side of a wolfhound
has the most hair.

Its orange eye blinks.
The burning tears flow.
But what its sorrow is,
None may ever know.

Two legs it has,
And this will confound:
Only at rest,
Do they touch the ground.

She has tasteful friends
And tasteless enemies.
Tears are often shed on her behalf,
Yet never has she broken a heart.

In all the world, none can compare,
To this tiny weaver, his deadly cloth
So silky and fair.

You can see it in winter,
never in summer.
Even though it is as light
as a feather, the mightiest moredhel
in the North can't hold it for long.

Every creature in the world has seen it.
But to their dying day they'll never see
the same one again.

Kingdom soldiers will look like it,
When the headsman gives them a lop.
For then, like it,
they'll have a neck,
But not a head on top.

What is the thing
with fingers long,
That grips our deadly
swords so strong?

Six legs, two heads,
two hands, one long nose.
Yet he uses only four legs
wherever he goes.

Black when bought.
Red when used.
Grey when thrown away.

It is too much for one.
Two it is meant for.
But it no longer exists,
When the two become more.

It never was before.
It is not now.
Fools wait for it forever.

What ranges far and
cannot be confined,
yet stays in one spot?
The correct one will
open this chest.

Held firmly in the hands,
Like a sword it cuts deep.
Bloodless strokes, all,
Then forward we leap.

Bloodless and boneless
it travels about.
Yet it never leaves home.

You hear it speak,
For it has a hard tongue.
But it cannot breathe,
For it has not a lung.

Has a tongue,
But never talks.
Has no legs,
But sometimes walks.

You seek it out,
When your hunger's ripe.
It sits on four legs,
And smokes a pipe.

Has feathers but can't fly.
Rests on legs but can't walk.


One pace to the North.
Two paces to the East.
Two paces to the South.
Two paces to the West.
One pace to the North.

It flies without wings,
Drops without fear,
But held in warm hands,
It will soon disappear.

When they are caught,
They are thrown away.
When they escape,
You itch all day.

He stands beside the road in a
purple cap and tattered green cloak.
Those who touch him, curse him.

All about the house,
With his Lady he dances.
Yet he always works,
And never romances.

All across the countryside,
to front doors he travels.
But you never invite him in.

Axes and swords,
Will not help you through.
Yet it and a little push will do.
Some in the road would
have fought and soon died,
Were it not close at hand,
to let them inside.

Pounds all day,
Beats all night,
Never rests.

This old one runs forever,
But never moves at all.
He has not lungs, nor throat,
Still, a mighty roaring call.

You can count on them, though
some would rather cursethem.
You can speak dear to them,
though well all know 'tis
just in vain.

They have not lips nor tongues,
Yet lead them green to the pit,
And as they die you will hear,
Them sputter, hiss and spit.

There is a shoemaker in the dell.
Makes his shoes with steel and nail.
Although his goods last right well,
Folks need two pair, without fail.

When it is stout,
People gladly tread.
When it is thin,
People walk in dread.

Look in my face,
I am somebody.
Look at my back,
I am nobody.

The bones of the dead,
Can be used to trap the living.

Say away fom these hideus
beasts, they kil our females
and chidrens.

It is a journey whose path
depends, on another's vision
of where it ends.

Blessed are the first.
Slow are the second.
Playful are the third.
Bold are the fourth.
Brave are the fifth.

After the final fire,
the winds will blow.
And these, which are already dead,
will cover the ones who have yet to die.

Men seize it from its home,
tear apart its flesh,
drink the sweet blood,
then cast its skin aside.

You see me oft,
In woods and town.
With my roots above,
I must grow down.

You see me oft,
In woods and town.
With my roots above,
I must grow

A strange earthen house,
That brings nought but disdain.
And yet those who stay there,
Never do complain.

Twins on either side of
a ridge that smells.
They shall never see
each other directly.

With flashing sword and booming cry,
With darkness staining land and sky,
The army comes, prepared to die.
Soldiers fall in glistening dress,
As battles are joined without egress,
Save comfort in the earth's caress.

The wheel is steered,
Despite the night.
They prefer our lead,
More than the light.

When it is down,
It is lower than a horse's belly.
When it is up,
It is higher than a horse's back.

Holes at the top.
Holes at the bottom.
Holes in the middle.
But still it holds water.

Claws like a cat,
Crooked as a snake's hiss.
Patch together your guesses,
You won't guess this.

Rounds as an apple
Deeps as a cup,
All the Bitter Sea
Can't fill it up.

Although my cow is dead,
I continue to beat her.
What a racket she makes!

Flat as a leaf,
Round as a ring,
Has two eyes,
But can't see a thing.

Two brothers wanted to race a course,
To see which had the slowest horse.
Since neither wanted to spur his mare,
What must they do to make it fair?

A box beneath a tree,
Inside some tasty meat.
Kept for a month or more,
It still tastes just as sweet.

Its tail is round and hollow,
Seems to get chewed a bit,
But you'll rarely see this thing,
Unless the other end is lit.

It doesn't live with in a house,
Nor does it live without.
Most will use it when they come in,
And again when they go out.

Although lower than a fence,
And thinner than a rail,
It can still be used to hold a horse;
Hooves, mane and tail.

Though not a plant, has leaves.
Though not a beast, has spine.
Though many wouldn't need this thing,
'Tis more valuable than wine.

Four legs in front, two behind.
Its steely armor scratched and
dented by rocks and sticks.
Still it toils as it helps feed
the hungry.

In the fields a frightful thing,
Watch it and you will find,
It has a pitchfork in the front,
And a broom back behind.

Our valiant leaders will keep this.
But only after they have given it.

What is this thing that having it,
You can no longer give it away,
But lacking it, for the moment at least,
You can give it to those who must pay?

Whoever has it is angry,
Whoever loses it is angrier,
Whoever wins it has it no more.

This wondrous thing, though not
an herb, can help comfort the weak
and the dying. It can even be used to
rally the troops, or make one start
laughing or crying.

This sparkling globe
can float on water,
and weighs not more than a feather.
Yet despite its weight ten
giants could never pick it up.

Ten troll's strength,
Ten troll's length,
One troll can pick it up,
No troll can stand it up.

A shimmering field that reaches far.
Yet it has no tracks,
And is crossed without paths.

You tie these things,
Before you go.
And untie them,
After you stop.

This engulfing thing,
is strange indeed.
The greater it grows,
the less you see.

Don't grow too attached to this thing.
Without it you will never even know it
is gone. But be careful friend, it is
much easier to lose on Kingdom soil.

What is it of yours that you
see every day, but our Leader
sees only rarely?

Where once there were three,
Now only are two,
Ancient kin ours,
Whom we sent to their doom.

Neck, but no head.
Arms, but no hands.
Waist, but no legs.

A carpenter left some wood,
Would not take it back.
I saw some dust where he left it,
But couldn't find his stack.

Once alive, but now twisted 'round.
It is used by moredhel and men to
punish their own kind.

No visible flesh,
Nor blood, nor bone,
But given time,
They will walk alone.

Put into a pit.
Locked behind a steel grate.
Guarded all through the night,
still it goes out.

Answers its caller without being
asked. Responds within seconds, and
speaks all languages with equalease.

This marvelous thing,
Though it sounds absurd,
Contains all our letters,
But is only a word.

This Kingdom fool has married
many women. Yet he has never
been married.

This odd thing seems to get wetter,
The more it dries.

Though blind as well,
Can lead the blind well.

What goes down to the cellar
with four legs,
but comes back with eight?

You must keep this thing.
Its loss will affect your brothers,
For once yours is lost,
It will soon be lost by others.

Though a tasty treat,
Made in spiral towers,
Rarely will it be eaten alone.

This great thing can be swallowed,
But can also swallow us.

Inside a burning house,
This thing is best to make.
And best to make it quickly before,
The fire's too much to take.

Plow and hoe, reap and sow,
What soon does every farmer grow?

Everyone offers this thing.
But few will take it when it
is offered by someone else.

You will invite him into your house,
Yet you know him not.
Once you get to know him,
This thing he will no longer be.

I saw him where he never was,
And where he could not be.
And yet within this place,
I saw a wavering face,
Staring back at me.

We travel much, yet prisoners are,
And close confined, to boot.
Yet with any horse we will keep pace,
And always go on foot.

When people come for me to meet,
They come to me with heavy feet.
The one I hold,
When I get my chance,
Will turn and spin,
And start to dance.

When it comes in,
>From sea to shore,
Twenty paces you'll see,
No less, no more.

Like dogs shouting at the moon,
Or armor worn by the trees.
Like a sharply spoken command,
Or a tiny vessel upon the seas.

Chapter 1 requires this code,
for you to reach the motherlode.

Chapter 2 requires this code,
for you to reach the motherlode.

Chapter 3 requires this code,
for you to reach the motherlode.

Chapter 4 requires this code,
for you to reach the motherlode.

Chapter 5 requires his code,
for you to reach the motherlode.

Chapter 6 requires this code,
for you to reach the motherlode.

Chapter 7 requires this code,
for you to reach the motherlode.

Chapter 8 requires this code,
for you to reach the motherlode.

Chapter 9 requires this code,
for you to reach the motherlode.

To gain Strength, get a lot of Fadamor's Formula by the time you reach Chapter
6. In Chapter 6 on the way to Elvandar, there is a well which takes away your
Fadamor's Formula and increases your Strength by 3 Points permanently. To get
to it, follow the main road to Elvandar. Just before the road deadends, you
should find the well using the Spyglass of Ishap. The Cheat is that when you
use the well with Fadamor's Formula, it takes all of the Formula you have with
you so that you can only do it once. But if you place all of the doses, except
1, of Fadamor's Formula in a bag next to the well, you can use the well; then
go back and take another dose & use it all over again. Each time Owyn &<
Gorath's Strength increases by 3.

Many thanks to Ron Lang for supplying these cheats!

On the road just south of Lynton is the farmhouse of Flarr Wygn. He offers you
water from his magic well (which has wards that only Flarr can overcome)Pay
the 25s for a drink and all characters health and stamina levels are filled
(but it doesn't cure the plague).

Many thanks to Kristine for supplying these cheats!

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