A drawer & a honest art-thief.
Daedel любезно согласился проверить мое творение на английском, созданное в целях укрепления начавших расползаться знаний.
Pale Enchantress, я помню, ты тоже высказала готовность почитать, поэтому - и тебе заранее спасибо.
Всем интересующимся - под море.
Итак, предупреждаю сразу - ошибок наверняка море)) Я бы сказала, much more..! Я, пока перепечатывала, отловила весь (или, наверное, почти весь) spelling, но грамматика моя оставляет желать много лучшего, фразы просты и корявы( Сюжет тоже провисает, ибо он - не основная цель писанины.
Если вы готовы, прошу
Underdark Theme
Chapter 1. Crasfie
Underdark always welcomes one with still and coldness. It watches on a surface dweller by hundreds of eyes, which cannot be discovered, but sensed. It keeps silence, which is interrupting by rustles, whispers; it holds with awe. If one entered this world, he would be caught by its imperceptible fingers. And from the very moment that one would be in Underdark’s power. And further surviving would depend on one’s dexterity and wit.
To a surface dweller accustomed to sunshine and ado of overground life, world of soundless caverns, murky passages and vaulted corridors is alien and menacing.
But it wasn’t the same for her. For one, who was born there in a dark cave with stony pillars and luminescent moss on uneven walls. She had been listening a heartbeat of Underdark from her birth. These coldness and soundless, these rustles, murmurs and whispers – these all were well known – and beloved. These all were her home, and she was a part of it. And when she had been touching rugged wall – as she was doing now – she sensed something more great than tones of earth, stone and ore.
At the very moment her hand could feel a rhythmic strokes muffled by thick walls. “Father,” thought she, smiling. She sprang from her rough chair and fastened outside. She ran out from her chamber and hurried through the corridor. She passed by three or more entrances to other chambers and reached the required one. The doors were opened widely and five short and solid dwarfs were there, clustering near the high stony wall, discussing their task loudly.
She came to the group and listened conversations. All the dwarfs were so focused and agitated about their work, even hadn’t notice her appearance.
“Father,” asked she calmly and a little archly, “are you trying to break down this unlucky wall?”
“Crasfie?! Why aren’t you studying you lesson in geology?” asked one of the dwarfs, with the most solid figure and grey beard, turning sharply and frowning on her.
“Well… I’d already succeed with everything about iron ore veins in this region, about conditions and– ” Crasfie cut herself off, trying not to look into father’s eyes.
“Really?” exacted the grey-bearded dwarf, looking hardly on her.
“Huh”, started Crasfie, smiling lamentably, “it’s so boring– ”.
“But,” said the dwarf, rising up a finger, “geology is important enough for you to struggle the boredom. With your blessing dexterity you would become an outstanding geologist! Time would come and you’ll be the next Burrow-Warden!”
“I wouldn’t let you down, father!” promised Crasfie. “But what’s about this wall?”
“Yes, Buradin! What’s about it?!” asked another dwarf loudly.
“Huh, right! Let’s merely break it down at once! I’m fed up with all this contemplating!” decided Buradin, rising up his miphrill hammer. “Get a step away, my girl. You’re having such a tender skin, pieces may hurt you.”
“All right!” said Crasfie, turning to the doors, “If you need me, I’m in library!”
The library was a big, well spotlit parlor with thousands of bookshelves and one aged librarian, short even for dwarf. He was kind, considerate and courteous, so everybody called him ‘Grandpa Dooss’ and Grandpa himself was pleased with this name.
“Scholar Crasfie! Beautiful, determined and diligent!” welcomed Grandpa Dooss, as he was always doing. “How are your lessons on geology?”
“Totally succeed,” said Crasfie dully. “Grandpa Dooss,” continued she, “may I –”.
“As usual”, said Dooss with slight sadness. “Well, I’ve been always saying – everybody has his right to know. But, sure, your father wouldn’t be happy, if he knew about your research.”
“But –”.
“Aye, young scholar, I do understand,” sighed Dooss. “Follow me.”
They wend on path, well known for both. They passed by hundreds of books, folios, volumes, and came at last to their destination – twilight corner with a big wooden table. Opposite the table there was a wide bookcase. Dooss reached the higher shelf using step-ladder and took an old blackened folio.
“Here. Take it, this is something new for your research,” said Dooss, frowning. “It would be difficult to read through, but – your wit is keen and genuine and I’m sure you’d learn this lesson duly.”
Then Grandpa Dooss wend away, leaving Crasfie with folio tête-à-tête.
It wasn’t a piece a cake for her to hide her searches from father, but she had a must – merely had a must to find out everything about her people. About herself.
Because of she wasn’t a dwarf. Tall, thin, white haired, with dark skin and somewhat rapacious features – she wasn’t a dwarf for sure. Five years ago she asked father about herself at last. Asked bluntly.
He didn’t want to speak out, but she implored him.
“A dark elf you are, my girl,” he answered after a halt. “A drou. But – don’t forget that you’re my daughter, Crasfie. Don’t forget about those who found you and fed you up with all the love. Also don’t forget those who let you die alone in a cold cave. Don’t ever forget.”
Pale Enchantress, я помню, ты тоже высказала готовность почитать, поэтому - и тебе заранее спасибо.
Всем интересующимся - под море.
Итак, предупреждаю сразу - ошибок наверняка море)) Я бы сказала, much more..! Я, пока перепечатывала, отловила весь (или, наверное, почти весь) spelling, но грамматика моя оставляет желать много лучшего, фразы просты и корявы( Сюжет тоже провисает, ибо он - не основная цель писанины.
Если вы готовы, прошу
Underdark Theme
Chapter 1. Crasfie
Underdark always welcomes one with still and coldness. It watches on a surface dweller by hundreds of eyes, which cannot be discovered, but sensed. It keeps silence, which is interrupting by rustles, whispers; it holds with awe. If one entered this world, he would be caught by its imperceptible fingers. And from the very moment that one would be in Underdark’s power. And further surviving would depend on one’s dexterity and wit.
To a surface dweller accustomed to sunshine and ado of overground life, world of soundless caverns, murky passages and vaulted corridors is alien and menacing.
But it wasn’t the same for her. For one, who was born there in a dark cave with stony pillars and luminescent moss on uneven walls. She had been listening a heartbeat of Underdark from her birth. These coldness and soundless, these rustles, murmurs and whispers – these all were well known – and beloved. These all were her home, and she was a part of it. And when she had been touching rugged wall – as she was doing now – she sensed something more great than tones of earth, stone and ore.
At the very moment her hand could feel a rhythmic strokes muffled by thick walls. “Father,” thought she, smiling. She sprang from her rough chair and fastened outside. She ran out from her chamber and hurried through the corridor. She passed by three or more entrances to other chambers and reached the required one. The doors were opened widely and five short and solid dwarfs were there, clustering near the high stony wall, discussing their task loudly.
She came to the group and listened conversations. All the dwarfs were so focused and agitated about their work, even hadn’t notice her appearance.
“Father,” asked she calmly and a little archly, “are you trying to break down this unlucky wall?”
“Crasfie?! Why aren’t you studying you lesson in geology?” asked one of the dwarfs, with the most solid figure and grey beard, turning sharply and frowning on her.
“Well… I’d already succeed with everything about iron ore veins in this region, about conditions and– ” Crasfie cut herself off, trying not to look into father’s eyes.
“Really?” exacted the grey-bearded dwarf, looking hardly on her.
“Huh”, started Crasfie, smiling lamentably, “it’s so boring– ”.
“But,” said the dwarf, rising up a finger, “geology is important enough for you to struggle the boredom. With your blessing dexterity you would become an outstanding geologist! Time would come and you’ll be the next Burrow-Warden!”
“I wouldn’t let you down, father!” promised Crasfie. “But what’s about this wall?”
“Yes, Buradin! What’s about it?!” asked another dwarf loudly.
“Huh, right! Let’s merely break it down at once! I’m fed up with all this contemplating!” decided Buradin, rising up his miphrill hammer. “Get a step away, my girl. You’re having such a tender skin, pieces may hurt you.”
“All right!” said Crasfie, turning to the doors, “If you need me, I’m in library!”
The library was a big, well spotlit parlor with thousands of bookshelves and one aged librarian, short even for dwarf. He was kind, considerate and courteous, so everybody called him ‘Grandpa Dooss’ and Grandpa himself was pleased with this name.
“Scholar Crasfie! Beautiful, determined and diligent!” welcomed Grandpa Dooss, as he was always doing. “How are your lessons on geology?”
“Totally succeed,” said Crasfie dully. “Grandpa Dooss,” continued she, “may I –”.
“As usual”, said Dooss with slight sadness. “Well, I’ve been always saying – everybody has his right to know. But, sure, your father wouldn’t be happy, if he knew about your research.”
“But –”.
“Aye, young scholar, I do understand,” sighed Dooss. “Follow me.”
They wend on path, well known for both. They passed by hundreds of books, folios, volumes, and came at last to their destination – twilight corner with a big wooden table. Opposite the table there was a wide bookcase. Dooss reached the higher shelf using step-ladder and took an old blackened folio.
“Here. Take it, this is something new for your research,” said Dooss, frowning. “It would be difficult to read through, but – your wit is keen and genuine and I’m sure you’d learn this lesson duly.”
Then Grandpa Dooss wend away, leaving Crasfie with folio tête-à-tête.
It wasn’t a piece a cake for her to hide her searches from father, but she had a must – merely had a must to find out everything about her people. About herself.
Because of she wasn’t a dwarf. Tall, thin, white haired, with dark skin and somewhat rapacious features – she wasn’t a dwarf for sure. Five years ago she asked father about herself at last. Asked bluntly.
He didn’t want to speak out, but she implored him.
“A dark elf you are, my girl,” he answered after a halt. “A drou. But – don’t forget that you’re my daughter, Crasfie. Don’t forget about those who found you and fed you up with all the love. Also don’t forget those who let you die alone in a cold cave. Don’t ever forget.”
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17.11.2006 в 19:32-
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17.11.2006 в 19:42-
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17.11.2006 в 20:27-
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17.11.2006 в 23:46surface dweller by hundreds of eyes, which cannot be discovered, but sensed.
It keeps silence, which is interrupting by rustles, whispers; it holds with
awe. If one entered this world, he would be caught by its imperceptible
fingers. And from the very moment that one would be in Underdark's power.
And further surviving would depend on one's dexterity and wit.
watches on - в смысле наблюдает за? Тогда без предлога. ...watches a surface dweller _with_ hundreds of eyes...
which is interruptED - страдательный залог вроде как должен быть. и предлог опять же with - интуитивно помню, что так должно быть, а почему... вроде бы by употр., когда действие производится одущевленным существом, а with - когда речь идет о неодушевленном.
And further surviving would depend on one's dexterity and wit. - тут уже лучше _his_ dexterity...
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18.11.2006 в 00:04world of soundless caverns, murky passages and vaulted corridors is alien
and menacing.
But it wasn't the same for her. For one (без запятой здесь, в англ. знаков препинания намного меньше, чем у нас, хотя иногда они их без разбору ставят) who was born there in a dark cave with stony pillars and luminescent moss on uneven walls. She had been listening _to_
a_the_ heartbeat of Underdarkfrom_since_ her birth.These coldness and soundless, - _this_ coldness and silence (soundless вроде бы прилагательное, а тут по смыслу существительное надо)
these rustles, murmurs and whispers - these all were well known - and beloved. These all were her home, and she was a part of it. And when she had been touching _а_ rugged wall - as she was doing now - she sensed something
more great_greater_ than tones of earth, stone and ore.At the (this - ?) very moment her hand could feel
arhythmic strokes muffledby_with_ thickwalls. "Father," thought she, smiling. She sprang from her rough chair and
fastened (вот как-то это не на месте кажется, не в том значении) outside. She ran out
from_of_ her chamber and hurried through thecorridor. She passed by three or more entrances to other chambers and
reached the required one. The doors were opened widely, and five short and
solid dwarfs were there, clustering near the high stony wall, discussing
their task loudly.
She came _up_ to the group and listened _to_ _their_ conversation
s. All the dwarfs were sofocused and agitated about their work, even hadn't noticeD her appearance.
"Father," asked she calmly and a little archly, "are you trying to break
down this unlucky wall?"
"Well: I'
d_ve_ already succeed_ed_ with everything about iron ore veins in thisregion, about conditions and- " Crasfie cut herself off, trying not to look
into _her_ father's eyes.
"But," said the dwarf, rising up a finger, "geology is important enough for
you to struggle _with_ the boredom. With your blessing dexterity you would become
an outstanding geologist! Time would come and you'll be the next
Burrow-Warden!" - выбери грам. время, что-то одно.
You're having such a tender skin, pieces may hurt you - здесь лучше просто you have, т.к. Continuous подчеркивает, что кожа у нее нежная только в данный момент, а в другой момент может быть и не такой : )
to be continued : )
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18.11.2006 в 14:17to be continued обязательно!