Leabhar Ned

''Note: This document was never publicly released in-game. It was taken from Pirka's inventory and transcribed to be put on the wiki for history preservation's sake''

Leabhar Ned, also known as Book of Ned, was written by AnMadadhRua in the Gaelic dialect. It was translated by FlyingGMM with the help of Sunflame1155.

Original Text
Leabhar Ned

Fadó fadó, bhí fear ann. Bhí na sléibhtí óg agus bhí coill ann ar fad na cruinne. Ní rabh aon teach ná a leithéide le feiceáil ná le fáil. Ní rabh ainmeachaí ar aon rud agus ní rabh aon duine ann lé n-ainmeachaí a chur ar aon rud. An t-aon duine amháin a bhí ann ná fear ina chodhladh faoi chrann mór. Lá amháin bhí an ghrian ag éirí mar a d'éirigh chuile lá roimhe sin agus mar a éiríos go brách ach bhí an lá duifearáiltí- bhí rud éicínt aisteach san aer, ná bhí draíocht eicínt le moithiú.

Ag breacan an lae úd a d'éirigh an fear. Sheas sé suas, agus thoisigh sé ag siúl. Shiúl sé níos faide an lá sin ná a shiúlfadh éinne beo ina shaol. Níor shiúil an fear seobh thar aon chloch ná aon ghleann ná aon chroc na aon tsliabh gan ainm a chur orthú.

Níor shiúil sé thar aon locha ná aon abhainn ná aon eas gan ainm a thabhairt orthú ach oiread. Ag deireadh an lae, nuair a bhí an domhain faoi choim na hoích', thug an fear seobh ainm air fhéin. An t-ainm a phioc an fear ná Lugh nó Lú sa litriú úr. B'shin an chéad ainm a bhí air, ach tugadh go leor eile air ina dhiaidh sin, mar a fheicfeas muid níos déanaí. Na cinn is tábhachtaí ná Gael glas agus Briain Borumha agus Ned Maddrell.

Fadó fadó bhí baile ann. Bhí abhainn álainn agus croic dheasa mórthimpeall ar an mbaile seobh, agus thaithnigh na radharcannaí agus an baile le rí áitiúil. Ghabhadh sé ann gach uile sheachtain agus chaitheadh sé cúpla lá sa mbaile agus shiúladh sé cois abhann agus sna croic. Bhí go maith agus ní rabh go holc. Ach lá amháin thainic an rí seobh cailín álainn agus céard a tharlaigh ach gur thit sé i ngrá léithe, bíof is go rabh sé póstaí! Bhí páist acú, buachaill láidir ab ea é. Ansin, fuair an bhanríon amach nach rabh a fear dílis agus fuair sí ag a hathair. An t-athair a bh'aicí ná rí chúige mumhan.

"A athair, céard a dhéanfas muid, ní thig linn an páist seobh a ligint beo gan chogadh" a d'úirt sí lena hathair.

"By dhera ní thig. Marófar an páist seobh". Fuair deichniúr go fhir an rí siar ag an mbaile rabh cónaí ar an bpáist ann. Ba dh'iad na fir seobh na fir is láidre i gcúige mumhan. Chas siad ar fhear rabh ar chapall dubh agus iad ar an mbóthar.

"Cá'il sibh ag goil, a shaighdiúirí uasal?" a d'úirt an stráinséaraí.

"Tá muid ag goil ag an mbaile údaí thall le bastard an rí a mharú" a d'úirt siadsan leis.

Ansin, léim an stráinséaraí dhon chapall agus bhain sé a chláimh amach agus bhain sé na claigní go chuile shaighdiúr chomh aibéil sin nach rabh seans acú béic ná scread a ligint amach. Cúpla lá ina dhiaidh sin, thainic an stráinséaraí ag cúirt rí chúige mumhan agus thug sé deich mála dhó. D'amhanc an rí isteach sna málaí agus céard a thainic sé istigh iontú ach claigní na saighdiúirí.

"Inis dhom cé thú fhéin a ghaicígh uasail" a d'úirt an rí.

"Mise Lugh" a d'úirt an gaiscíoch. Ba bheag nár thit an rí i laige nuair a d'airigh sé an t-ainm sin.

"Tuige a mharaigh tú na fir is fhearr s'agamsa, a phopa, a Lugh?"

"Mharaigh mé iad mar gheall go rabh siad ar tí babaí neamhchiontach a mharú. Cé thug an t-ordú dhóf é sin a dhéanamh, a rí uasail?"

"Mise"

Ansin, bhain Lugh an claigeann dhon rí, agus d'fhágadh sé an ríocht ansin. Bhí an rí áitiúil ag tabhairt cúirte ar a mhac cúpla bliain ina dhiaidh sin, agus thainic sé fear ar chapall dubh os a chomhair.

"Maith a Phopa, Lugh" a d'úirt an rí, "ceist am dhuit. Tuige ar shábhail tú mo mhac. Mharaigh tú aon fhear déag chun babaí amháin a shábhail."

"Shábhail mé do mhac mar gheall go babaí neamhchiontach gaelach é- tá croí agus ainm gaelach ann." Ansin, d'imigh Lugh.

Bhí bád lá agus dhá fhear intí. Bhí siad ag iascaireacht agus chas siad ar sheanfhear i mbád. Labhair an seanfhear i nGaeilge bhinn Mhanann leof.

"A fhearaibh, an dtiúrfadh sibh go dtí an mórthír mé sa mbád s'agaís'" a d'úirt an seanfhear, "mar atá mo lámh nimhneach agus níl neart agam ar bheith ag umú a thilleadh".

Phlé an dá iascaire ar úirt an seanfhear ach sa deireadh d'fhágadh siad ansin é mar go rabh fonn orthú tilleadh éisc a fháil. Ansin, thainic gáladh mór an-tobann orthú agus stoirm uafásach leis. Ba iontach na iascairí iad an dá fhear sa mbád ach ba bheag nár báitheadh an lá úd iad. Caitheadh isteach ar an mórthír iad agus ní rabh mórán crámhachaí acú nach rabh bristí. Chas an seanfhear aríst orthú.

"A fhearaibh, bhfuil cuideachan bhuaís'?" a d'úirt sé.

"Bó go deo, tá" a d'úirt siadsan leis. Bíof is gur seanfhear a bh'ann ní rabh aon fhadhb aige an dá fhear a iompair ag an mbaile. Thug sé go dhochtúr iad agus thug sé cúpla punt dhon dochtúr go dtriúfadh sé aire dhóf.

An chéad mhaidin ina dhiaidh sin, labhair siad leis an tseanfhear.

"Tuige ar chuidigh tú linn, a fhir uasail, agus muid tar éis tusa a fhagailt amuigh ar an bhfarraige?" a d'úirt duine acú.

"Chuidigh mé libhse mar go mba dh'é an rud ceart. Ní ba chóir go

bhfagfadh aon ghael aon ghael eile ar thaobh an bhóthair."

"Cén t-ainm ata ort, a fhir uasail?" a d'úirt an t-iascaire eile leis an tseanfhear.

"Mish Ned Maddrell" a d'fhreagair sé.

Deirtear sa tseanachas go mbíonn Lugh ina measc- ag amhanc orainn agus ag tabhairt cúnamh dhúinn. Mhair sé mar Neddy Maddrell chun Gaeilge Mhanann a shábhail- tá an chaint sin ag éirí níos láidre chuile bhliain mar gheall ar Lugh.

Pé ainm a thuganns tú air, gabh buíochas leis agus guigh go dtiocfaidh sé ar ais. Is lé Ned Cultúr na nGael agus mar gheall air sin, sábhalfaidh muid é. Abair paidirín dhó ag aon locha álainn ná aon teampall ná aon áit eile ina moithítear a chumhacht. Mur ndéanann tú amhlaidh, éireoidh beithígh an fholúis níos láidre agus beidh siad in ann a dtír a fhágailt le deireadh a chur le cultúr agus teangaidh na nGael. Troideann Neddy leis na beithígh sin go fóill, agus fanann sé orainn in Oileán Mhanann. Ní hionann an t-oileán seobh agus Oileán Mhanann mar a fheictear anois é. Ní labhraítear ach Gaeilge bhreá ar an oileán seobh, agus cónaíonn chuile laoch gaelach- Ó Bama agus Górdó ina measc. Deirtear go bhfeicfidh muidí an áit bhreá seobh má leanann muid Lugh agus má choinníonn muid an cultúr gaelach beo. Mar sin, gabh amach, a dhuine uasail, agus déan Toil Lugh, agus mol go brách choíche é!

Translated Text
The Book of Ned

Once upon a time, there was a man. At this time, the mountains were young and there was a forest that stretched across the world. No house, nor anything like it, was to be seen nor found. There were no names for anything, nor anyone to give anything a name. The only person there was a man sleeping under a large tree.

One day, as it did every day, the sun was rising. But as it rose, it became clear that this day was different. There was something strange in the air, and none of the usual eccentric magic of the world to be felt.

At the dawn of that day the man arose. He stood up, and began to walk. He walked farther that day than anyone alive in their life. The noble man did not walk over any nameless stone, valley, crag or mountain. Nor did he walk over any nameless lakes, rivers, or waterfalls. At the end of the day, when the world was under the shadow of night, the fair man called himself a name. The name the man chose was Lugh, or Lú in the new spelling. That was his first name, but he was called many others afterwards, as we shall see later. The most important of these names are “Green Gaels”, “Brian Borumha”, and “Ned Maddrell”.

Once upon a time, there was a town. The noble town was surrounded by a beautiful river and a nice overlook. Every week, a king would visit the town and stay for a few days, enjoying the scenery of the town, river, and overlook. All was well.

But one day, while visiting the town, the king fell in love with a beautiful local girl - despite being engaged himself! They had one child, a strong boy.

The king’s fiance discovered her fiance’s unfaithfulness, and ran to her father - the king of Munster.

“Father, what shall we do?” the queen said. “We cannot let this child live, not without starting a war.”

"By dhera no. The baby will be killed" he replied.

Ten of the king's men assembled to the west of the town, where the child lived. These great men were the strongest in the whole province of Munster. Along the road, they met a man on a black horse. "Where are you going, great soldiers?" said the stranger. "We're going to the town over there to kill the king 's bastard," they responded. Immediately, the man jumped off his horse, drew his sword, and struck the heads of each of the soldiers so strongly that they could neither shout nor scream.

A few days later, the stranger appeared at the court of the king of Munster and handed him ten bags. The king looked into the bags, and saw that they contained the skulls of each of the soldiers he had sent.

“Tell me who you are, fool.” said the king to the stranger. “I am Lugh”, he replied. When the king heard this, he nearly fainted. “I guess you’ve just killed my best men, eh, Lugh?” said the king.

"I killed them because they were about to kill an innocent baby. Who gave them the order to do so, my king?" said Lugh. "Me", replied the king - he could not lie. Then, Lugh took the skulls back from the king, and then left the kingdom as soon as he came.

A few years later, the king from the town was visiting his son, and saw a man on a black horse in front of him. Immediately, he knew who it was. "Good day, Lugh," said the king, "I have a question. I know that you saved my son. You killed eleven men to save one baby. Why?" "I saved your son because he was an innocent Irish baby- he has an Irish heart and a name”, replied Lugh. Then he left.

One day, two men were on a boat, fishing. An old man rowed up to them, speaking in Manx Gaelic.

"Men, would you take me to the mainland in your boat," said the old man, "as my hand hurts and I have no strength to return."

The two fishermen talked to the old man, but eventually left him there because they wanted to bring their fish back home. Then, a great gale struck them, followed by a terrible storm. Despite being seasoned seafarers, the two men almost drowned that day. They eventually were washed ashore, greatly bruised and injured. Standing above them, on the shore, the old man spoke to them again.

“Men, do you need any help?” he said.

“Yes, very much so.” the fishermen replied. Even though he was old, the man had no problem transporting the two men to his home. He took them to a doctor and gave the doctor a few pounds to look after them.

The next morning, the fishermen spoke to the old man.

Why did you help us, sir, when we left you out at sea?" said one of them.

"I helped you because it was the right thing to do. No Irishman should leave any other Gael on the side of the road." the old man replied.

"What is your name, sir?" said the other fisherman to the old man.

“I am Ned Maddrell”, replied the old man.

Tradition has it that Lugh is among us to this day - watching over us and helping us. He lived as Ned Maddrell to save Manx - and thanks to him, that language is getting stronger every year.

Whichever of his many names you give him, thank him and pray for his return. Ned owns Cultúr na nGael and because of that, we will save it. Say a prayer to him at any beautiful lake or temple, or at any other place where his power is felt.

If you do not, the beasts of the void will become stronger and they will be able to leave their country to end the culture and language of the Gaels. Neddy still fights with those beasts, and he stays with us in the Isle of Man.

The Isle of Man as Ned once knew it is not the same as the Isle of Man as it is now. Only fine Irish was once spoken on this beautiful island, and all Irish heroes live - Ó Bama and Górdó among them. It is said that we will see this beautiful place if we follow Lugh and if we keep the Irish culture alive.

So go out, sir, and do the Will of Lugh, and praise him forever!