A drawer & a honest art-thief.
Даэдель, я по твою душу... Если будет время и желание, будь добр, проверь, пожалуйста:
Chapter 2Little note about characters and some conditions of this particular world:
1. This was my mistake to use name “dwarfs” because of some special conditions their way of life. These creatures in original text are called “deep gnomes” or “svirfnebli”, and word “svirfneblin” means “concerning to deep gnomes”.
2. Drow race has specific way of life too. Overwhelming majority of them is cruel and greedy for power, and they do not disdain intrigues or even murder. Salvatore’s books are devoted to one particular drow, who became an exile because of his morality and honor.
Chapter 2. All are assembled
“Well, well, please, take your seats, start let us,” an old deep gnome began. He was a Superior Burrow-Warden Konrig, and one of the king’s councilors furthermore.
“So,” said he when everybody placed themselves on wooden benches, “there’re two questions to speculate about, my friends. First one is applying to collapse of soil in Western drifts.”
“Goblins,” said one of a presents, middle aged thin gnome with grim features. He said it so confidently, as if he saw those goblins by his own gray eyes. Other burrow-wardens stared at him discontentedly. Here on far east atmosphere was quite tranquil. In the western cities, ruled by king Schnicktick himself, there was dark elves’ city Menzoberranzan, there were goblins’ gangs, basilisks, and other disasters. It was rumored so, and gnomes here could do nothing but believe it. As a matter of fact, they were sorry about their kin’s problems, but – such a news from west meant calm and peace here, in city of Kreantilyne. “Evil is far beyond,” said Kreantilyne’s premier.
So, the assumption made by grim gnome had no resonance.
“A brigade should be gathered, a reason of the collapse should then be discovered,” proposed burrow-warden Mott, the most experienced of all, and having the most bad temper.
“Huh, fine idea!” responded Konrig contentedly. “But, as I remember, that is your turn to supervise the drift-building to the newly found vein, master Mott.”
“So it is,” said Mott grandly.
“Well, m… Burrow-warden Buradin,” said Konrig, having the chose made, “you would assemble the brigade to travel west. Take as many gnomes, as you would need, also foodstuffs, and make for the place. We could not leave the problem unsolved, so find out the reasons and go back as soon as you’d finish”.
Buradin nodded and left the Meeting Hall. He already had composed the list of the brigade members – nine or, probably, ten deep gnomes, strong, experienced and approved. The question he was thinking about tensely right now was concerning to Crasfie. When you’re an old gnome having someone to take care about with all the heart, it’s quite natural for you to guard that someone against every jeopardy, every risk. Crasfie was that someone.
Impatient, refractory, often too energetic and always self-confident, Crasfie was never showing any sign of aggression nevertheless. When they found her – diminutive nubbin of live – there in cold gloomy cave, no one – merely no one – said or even thought to leave it as is. But Crasfie was growing up, her dark skin and white thick hair reminded of past wars and brutality – there’re two exhaustive words about drou. No one spoke of it, but everybody was afraid of incoming future: one day Crasfie would understand her nature, know about all these wars of past, and recall brutality out of her blood of drou. All were afraid, but Buradin wasn’t. He felt little Crasfie by his old heart and guessed that all depends on upbringing.
And so it was.
Her wit was keen, she could analyze quickly and improve her conclusions by facts and knowledge – these all were the guarantee of successful studies. But Buradin saw her striving for practice and was uneasy about possible risks.
As most of youngsters, Crasfie was trained to wield a weapon. Even on calm east, you may meet a tunnel monster in remote caves and passageways. Crasfie did well in trainings, especially with throwing knifes and daggers, lightweight and fast weapons, also in archery. So, she could defend herself. But this meant little for Buradin; tunnels are dangerous, covering jeopardy under their shadows and stillness.
He had made no decision, when he came to his home and found Crasfie chatting animatedly with Drattel, young and cheery gnome, as agile as Crasfie.
“So resolved they to go there!” Drattel was saying with excitement. “Resolved to gather a brigade!”
“Who would lead did they resolved?” asked Crasfie curiously.
At that moment Drattel caught sight of Buradin, opened his eyes wide for the instant and then said with affected calm, “you know, I think, this would be my younger brother Stoors, he best knows the Ruins.”
Ruins of ancient temple, called The Temple of Unknown Gods, were Kreantilyne’s place of note, especially often being visited by youth. When everyday work is finished at last, you may go to the Ruins and meet your friends. But who would believe in intension to visit the Ruins when a brigade of gnomes is going to wend west? At that moment, Buradin made his decision at last. He called for Crasfie and let her in her chamber first.
“My girl,” started he with a deep sigh, “this is I who would lead the brigade, and you’re going with us”.
Crasfie was ready to demonstrate her overflowing rapture, but detected father’s tension, and suppressed her emotions.
“It would be long, difficult and dangerous journey. In addition, I want you to follow my every word, be careful and attentive. Doing exactly what I say is a guarantee of your safety,” said Buradin sincerely.
Crasfie beckoned and added with all the gravity she was able for “I promise, father”. Then Buradin wend away having too much things to do, and Crasfie began to prepare her belongings.
She felt agitation about this journey, and felt it distinctly. Therefore, father’s right, she must be careful, concentrated and as attentive as she is able to be. She were feeling by her skin something very significant being approaching, it was taking special attitude and consideration. As she knew, such an ability to have a presentiment about future possibilities had been very rarely occurring among deep gnomes. This was kind a gift from her parents – drow race had many various talents related to magic. She had seen a list of drow magic skills and found some of them very useful – and others very cruel and dangerous. Each of those skills should be studied in special conditions – not here in Kreantilyne because of very different svirfneblin inclinations. She also knew about grim and dark magic schools where drow were learning those skills; she wished never find herself there.
The last thing Crasfie made ready was her weapon – pair of double-edged cubit-long blades in leather sheath. Then she left her chamber and directed her steps to The Western Gates. She got out from chamber annex, chattering with some chums. Few close friends – Drattel himself and others – came to annex exit to say goodbye to Crasfie and wish her good luck. They were young deep gnomes, had never seen any drow except Crasfie, and had never repudiated her because of her blood. This friendship was pure end entire.
All together they were moving along narrow streets of The Western cave, passing by building and facilities made of stone. Whole the city of Kreantilyne was lying in a three huge caverns called The Northern, The Middle, and The Western. In The Western, there was a huge pillar with premiere’s quarters and Meeting Hall in it. In a large building beside the pillar, there was the library; in its halls one could find books and tomes in all known underground and overground languages.
Around the pillar were situated deep gnomes’ stocky homes. Whole cave was filled with warm subdued light and those low buildings were like toy-houses, with blue and red fires sparkling behind windows. Crasfie loved this city in spite she had never been in other cities and had nothing to compare with Kreantilyne. This was the place, which her heart was given to. On the other hand, she was happy to leave it and to set out on her journey – to get new experience, dangerous and magnetic.
Crasfie left The Western cave – and her friends there – behind and came to the Western Gates, etched metal doors in the vaulted doorway, three-meter-high and half-meter-thick, with a special chamber in front of them. In this chamber, she found whole the brigade except Buradin himself. Some of the svirfnebli were good fellows or hers, the rest – well, at least she knew them by names and heard about their experience and professional skills. She saw – and felt clearly – their astonishment about her presence in this chamber. She couldn’t blame them in their jealousy, she was a drow, a daughter of an ancient enemy; the memory of blood cannot be erased easily. She red – oh, she red too much – about wars of past, about drow’s cruelty and brutality. She also heard one legend, which she wished to believe in heartily. It was rumored about one drow came from west – exile, lone elf, which got rid of dark will’s nets.
If it was true, if only this drow existed and did really escaped from his family’s doom – then drow aren’t all evil, they just had lost in their mistakes. And she, Crasfie Buradin Stoneseer, svirfneblin adopted daughter, she doesn’t have a poison of cruelty in her blood. Some day she would do something, would show her heart’s light, and would ensure deep gnomes about her integrity and good will. Some day.
At last, Buradin made a sing to guards, and heavy doors coated with iron began their slow motion. There were just inner gates defending city and departing it from working tunnels and mines, which were well known and lived-in place. But the view of open tunnels was agitating Crasfie; at that very moment she felt something dim and uneasy. This mix of emotions and presentiments made her concentrate and remember father’s words about care and attentiveness.
When gates opened widely, clearing the way to the tunnel, Buradin gave last instructions and directed the brigade to set out. Crasfie took a deep breath and crossed the gates’ threshold.
Chapter 2Little note about characters and some conditions of this particular world:
1. This was my mistake to use name “dwarfs” because of some special conditions their way of life. These creatures in original text are called “deep gnomes” or “svirfnebli”, and word “svirfneblin” means “concerning to deep gnomes”.
2. Drow race has specific way of life too. Overwhelming majority of them is cruel and greedy for power, and they do not disdain intrigues or even murder. Salvatore’s books are devoted to one particular drow, who became an exile because of his morality and honor.
Chapter 2. All are assembled
“Well, well, please, take your seats, start let us,” an old deep gnome began. He was a Superior Burrow-Warden Konrig, and one of the king’s councilors furthermore.
“So,” said he when everybody placed themselves on wooden benches, “there’re two questions to speculate about, my friends. First one is applying to collapse of soil in Western drifts.”
“Goblins,” said one of a presents, middle aged thin gnome with grim features. He said it so confidently, as if he saw those goblins by his own gray eyes. Other burrow-wardens stared at him discontentedly. Here on far east atmosphere was quite tranquil. In the western cities, ruled by king Schnicktick himself, there was dark elves’ city Menzoberranzan, there were goblins’ gangs, basilisks, and other disasters. It was rumored so, and gnomes here could do nothing but believe it. As a matter of fact, they were sorry about their kin’s problems, but – such a news from west meant calm and peace here, in city of Kreantilyne. “Evil is far beyond,” said Kreantilyne’s premier.
So, the assumption made by grim gnome had no resonance.
“A brigade should be gathered, a reason of the collapse should then be discovered,” proposed burrow-warden Mott, the most experienced of all, and having the most bad temper.
“Huh, fine idea!” responded Konrig contentedly. “But, as I remember, that is your turn to supervise the drift-building to the newly found vein, master Mott.”
“So it is,” said Mott grandly.
“Well, m… Burrow-warden Buradin,” said Konrig, having the chose made, “you would assemble the brigade to travel west. Take as many gnomes, as you would need, also foodstuffs, and make for the place. We could not leave the problem unsolved, so find out the reasons and go back as soon as you’d finish”.
Buradin nodded and left the Meeting Hall. He already had composed the list of the brigade members – nine or, probably, ten deep gnomes, strong, experienced and approved. The question he was thinking about tensely right now was concerning to Crasfie. When you’re an old gnome having someone to take care about with all the heart, it’s quite natural for you to guard that someone against every jeopardy, every risk. Crasfie was that someone.
Impatient, refractory, often too energetic and always self-confident, Crasfie was never showing any sign of aggression nevertheless. When they found her – diminutive nubbin of live – there in cold gloomy cave, no one – merely no one – said or even thought to leave it as is. But Crasfie was growing up, her dark skin and white thick hair reminded of past wars and brutality – there’re two exhaustive words about drou. No one spoke of it, but everybody was afraid of incoming future: one day Crasfie would understand her nature, know about all these wars of past, and recall brutality out of her blood of drou. All were afraid, but Buradin wasn’t. He felt little Crasfie by his old heart and guessed that all depends on upbringing.
And so it was.
Her wit was keen, she could analyze quickly and improve her conclusions by facts and knowledge – these all were the guarantee of successful studies. But Buradin saw her striving for practice and was uneasy about possible risks.
As most of youngsters, Crasfie was trained to wield a weapon. Even on calm east, you may meet a tunnel monster in remote caves and passageways. Crasfie did well in trainings, especially with throwing knifes and daggers, lightweight and fast weapons, also in archery. So, she could defend herself. But this meant little for Buradin; tunnels are dangerous, covering jeopardy under their shadows and stillness.
He had made no decision, when he came to his home and found Crasfie chatting animatedly with Drattel, young and cheery gnome, as agile as Crasfie.
“So resolved they to go there!” Drattel was saying with excitement. “Resolved to gather a brigade!”
“Who would lead did they resolved?” asked Crasfie curiously.
At that moment Drattel caught sight of Buradin, opened his eyes wide for the instant and then said with affected calm, “you know, I think, this would be my younger brother Stoors, he best knows the Ruins.”
Ruins of ancient temple, called The Temple of Unknown Gods, were Kreantilyne’s place of note, especially often being visited by youth. When everyday work is finished at last, you may go to the Ruins and meet your friends. But who would believe in intension to visit the Ruins when a brigade of gnomes is going to wend west? At that moment, Buradin made his decision at last. He called for Crasfie and let her in her chamber first.
“My girl,” started he with a deep sigh, “this is I who would lead the brigade, and you’re going with us”.
Crasfie was ready to demonstrate her overflowing rapture, but detected father’s tension, and suppressed her emotions.
“It would be long, difficult and dangerous journey. In addition, I want you to follow my every word, be careful and attentive. Doing exactly what I say is a guarantee of your safety,” said Buradin sincerely.
Crasfie beckoned and added with all the gravity she was able for “I promise, father”. Then Buradin wend away having too much things to do, and Crasfie began to prepare her belongings.
She felt agitation about this journey, and felt it distinctly. Therefore, father’s right, she must be careful, concentrated and as attentive as she is able to be. She were feeling by her skin something very significant being approaching, it was taking special attitude and consideration. As she knew, such an ability to have a presentiment about future possibilities had been very rarely occurring among deep gnomes. This was kind a gift from her parents – drow race had many various talents related to magic. She had seen a list of drow magic skills and found some of them very useful – and others very cruel and dangerous. Each of those skills should be studied in special conditions – not here in Kreantilyne because of very different svirfneblin inclinations. She also knew about grim and dark magic schools where drow were learning those skills; she wished never find herself there.
The last thing Crasfie made ready was her weapon – pair of double-edged cubit-long blades in leather sheath. Then she left her chamber and directed her steps to The Western Gates. She got out from chamber annex, chattering with some chums. Few close friends – Drattel himself and others – came to annex exit to say goodbye to Crasfie and wish her good luck. They were young deep gnomes, had never seen any drow except Crasfie, and had never repudiated her because of her blood. This friendship was pure end entire.
All together they were moving along narrow streets of The Western cave, passing by building and facilities made of stone. Whole the city of Kreantilyne was lying in a three huge caverns called The Northern, The Middle, and The Western. In The Western, there was a huge pillar with premiere’s quarters and Meeting Hall in it. In a large building beside the pillar, there was the library; in its halls one could find books and tomes in all known underground and overground languages.
Around the pillar were situated deep gnomes’ stocky homes. Whole cave was filled with warm subdued light and those low buildings were like toy-houses, with blue and red fires sparkling behind windows. Crasfie loved this city in spite she had never been in other cities and had nothing to compare with Kreantilyne. This was the place, which her heart was given to. On the other hand, she was happy to leave it and to set out on her journey – to get new experience, dangerous and magnetic.
Crasfie left The Western cave – and her friends there – behind and came to the Western Gates, etched metal doors in the vaulted doorway, three-meter-high and half-meter-thick, with a special chamber in front of them. In this chamber, she found whole the brigade except Buradin himself. Some of the svirfnebli were good fellows or hers, the rest – well, at least she knew them by names and heard about their experience and professional skills. She saw – and felt clearly – their astonishment about her presence in this chamber. She couldn’t blame them in their jealousy, she was a drow, a daughter of an ancient enemy; the memory of blood cannot be erased easily. She red – oh, she red too much – about wars of past, about drow’s cruelty and brutality. She also heard one legend, which she wished to believe in heartily. It was rumored about one drow came from west – exile, lone elf, which got rid of dark will’s nets.
If it was true, if only this drow existed and did really escaped from his family’s doom – then drow aren’t all evil, they just had lost in their mistakes. And she, Crasfie Buradin Stoneseer, svirfneblin adopted daughter, she doesn’t have a poison of cruelty in her blood. Some day she would do something, would show her heart’s light, and would ensure deep gnomes about her integrity and good will. Some day.
At last, Buradin made a sing to guards, and heavy doors coated with iron began their slow motion. There were just inner gates defending city and departing it from working tunnels and mines, which were well known and lived-in place. But the view of open tunnels was agitating Crasfie; at that very moment she felt something dim and uneasy. This mix of emotions and presentiments made her concentrate and remember father’s words about care and attentiveness.
When gates opened widely, clearing the way to the tunnel, Buradin gave last instructions and directed the brigade to set out. Crasfie took a deep breath and crossed the gates’ threshold.
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10.04.2007 в 14:05A little note about the characters and some conditions of this particular world:
1. This was my mistake to use the name “dwarfs” because of some special conditions of their way of life. These creatures in the original text are called “deep gnomes” or “svirfnebli”, and word “svirfneblin” means “concerning to deep gnomes”.
2. Тhe Drow race has a specific way of life too. ТheOverwhelming majority of them
isare cruel and greedy for power, and they do not disdain intrigues or even murder. Salvatore’s books are devoted to one particular Drow, who became an exile because of his morality and honor.deep gnomes - это в англ. оригинале так? "Глубокие гномы" то есть?
concerning to - это "относящийся к"? Тогда лучше "related to".
Drow - лучше обозначение расы писать с большой буквы, вроде бы так принято.
продолжу в след. комменте
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10.04.2007 в 14:55“Well, well, please, take your seats,
start let us- let us start (let's start) порядок слов ,” an old deep gnome began. He was a Superior Burrow-Warden Konrig, and one of the king’s councilors furthermore.“So,” said he when everybody placed (seated?) themselves on wooden benches, “there’re two questions to speculate about, my friends. The first one is applying (applies?) to the collapse of soil in ( our/ the - выбери одно) Western drifts.”
“Goblins,” said one of
athe presents, a middle-aged thin gnome with grim features. He said it so confidently, as if hesawhad seen those goblins by his own gray eyes. The Other burrow-wardens stared at him discontentedly. Hereonin the far east the atmosphere was quite tranquil. In the western cities, ruled by king Schnicktick himself, there was the dark elves’ city Menzoberranzan, there were goblins’ gangs, basilisks, and other disasters. It was rumored so, and the gnomes here could do nothing but believe it. As a matter of fact, they were sorry about their kin’s problems, but – suchanews from the west meant calm and peace here, in the city of Kreantilyne. “Evil is far beyond,” said Kreantilyne’s premier.news - употр. без артикля как неисчисляемое
gnomes - может, тоже расу с большой буквы?
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10.04.2007 в 16:38-
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10.04.2007 в 16:46“A brigade should be gathered, the reason of the collapse should then be discovered,” proposed burrow-warden Mott, the most experienced of all, and
having the most bad temperthe one with the worst temper - превосходная степень от bad образуется не по общему правилу, и причастие лучше не употреблять, а выкрутиться другим оборотом.“Huh, fine idea!” responded Konrig contentedly. “But, as I remember, that is your turn to supervise the drift-building to the newly found vein, master Mott.”
“So it is,” said Mott grandly.
“Well, m… Burrow-warden Buradin,” said Konrig, having
the chose mademade the choice (если я правильно понимаю, что ты хочешь этим сказать), “you would assemble the brigade to travel west. Take as many gnomes as you would need, also foodstuffs, and make for the place. Wecould notлучше не сослагательным наклонением - can not leave the problem unsolved, so find out the reasons and go back as soon as you finish”.Buradin nodded and left the Meeting Hall. He already had composed the list of the brigade members – nine or, probably, ten deep gnomes, strong, experienced and approved. The question he was thinking about tensely right now was concerning to (related to (?)) Crasfie. When you’re an old gnome having someone to take care about with all the heart, it’s quite natural for you to guard that someone against every jeopardy, every risk. Crasfie was that someone.
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10.04.2007 в 17:01was never showingа зачем тебе тут континиус? - never showed any sign of aggression nevertheless. When they found her – a diminutive nubbin of live – there in the cold gloomy cave, no one – merely no one – said or even thought to leave it as is. But Crasfie was growing up, her dark skin and white thick hair reminded of past wars and brutality – there’re two exhaustive words about drou. No one spoke of it, but everybody was afraid of the incoming future: one day Crasfie would understand her nature, know about all these wars of past, and recall brutality out of her blood of drou. All were afraid, but Buradin wasn’t. He felt little Crasfie by his old heart and guessed that all depends on upbringing.And so it was.
Her wit was keen, she could analyze quickly and improve her conclusions by facts and knowledge – these all were the guarantee of successful studies. But Buradin saw her striving for practice and was uneasy about possible risks.
As most of youngsters, Crasfie was trained to wield a weapon. Even
onin the calm east, you may meet a tunnel monster in remote caves and passageways. Crasfie did well in trainings, especially with throwing knifes and daggers, lightweight and fast weapons, also in archery. So, she could defend herself. But this meant little for Buradin; tunnels are dangerous, covering jeopardy under their shadows and stillness.He had made no decision, when he came to his home and found Crasfie chatting animatedly with Drattel, a young and cheery gnome, as agile as Crasfie.
“So resolved they are to go there!” Drattel was saying with excitement. “Resolved to gather a brigade!”
“Who would lead did they resolved - не совсем понимаю смысл фразы?” asked Crasfie curiously.
At that moment Drattel caught а sight of Buradin, opened his eyes wide for the instant and then said with affected calm, “you know, I think, this would be my younger brother Stoors, he best knows the Ruins.”
The Ruins of an ancient temple, called The Temple of Unknown Gods, were Kreantilyne’s place of note, especially often
beingvisited by youth. When everyday work is finished at last, you may go to the Ruins and meet your friends. But who would believe in an intension to visit the Ruins when a brigade of gnomes is going to wend west? At that moment, Buradin made his decision at last. He called for Crasfie and let her in her chamber first.“My girl,” started he with a deep sigh, “this is I who would lead the brigade, and you’re going with us”.
Crasfie was ready to demonstrate her overflowing rapture, but detected Father’s tension, and suppressed her emotions.
“It would be a long, difficult and dangerous journey. In addition, I want you to follow my every word, be careful and attentive. Doing exactly what I say is a guarantee of your safety,” said Buradin sincerely.
intension - 1) напряжение, усилие
2) напряжённость, интенсивность; сила
может, INTENTION - намерение?
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10.04.2007 в 18:56She felt agitation - лучше причастие - agitated about this journey, and felt it distinctly. Therefore, Father’s right, she must be careful, concentrated and as attentive as she is able to be. She were feeling - а зачем тебе здесь такая конструкция?
bywith her skin something very significantbeing(это уже лишняя деталь конструкции) approaching, it was taking special attitude and consideration. As she knew, such an ability to have a presentiment about future possibilities had been very rarely occurring among deep gnomes. This was kind of a gift from her parents – the drow race had many various talents related to magic. She had seen a list of drow magic skills and found some of them very useful – and others very cruel and dangerous. Each of those skills should be studied in special conditions – not here in Kreantilyne because of very different svirfneblin inclinations. She also knew about grim and dark magic schools where drow were learning those skills; she wished she would - конструкция с глаголом wish never find herself there.The last thing Crasfie made ready was her weapon – а pair of double-edged cubit-long blades in leather sheath. Then she left her chamber and directed her steps to The Western Gates. She got out from the chamber annex, chattering with some chums. Few close friends – Drattel himself and others – came to the annex exit to say goodbye to Crasfie and wish her good luck. They were young deep gnomes, who had never seen any drow except Crasfie, and had never repudiated her because of her blood. This friendship was pure end entire.
All together they were moving along the narrow streets of The Western cave, passing by buildings and facilities made of stone.
Whole theThe whole city of Kreantilynewas lyinglay inathree huge caverns called The Northern, The Middle, and The Western. In The Western one, there was a huge pillar with premiere’s (?) quarters and Meeting Hall in it. In a large building beside the pillar, there was the library; in its halls one could find books and tomes in all known underground and overground languages.drow или drou? у тебя оба варианта встречаются
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10.04.2007 в 19:03Crasfie left The Western cave – and her friends there – behind and came to the Western Gates, etched metal doors in the vaulted doorway, three-meter-high and half-meter-thick, with a special chamber in front of them. In this chamber, she found
whole thethe whole brigade except Buradin himself. Some of the svirfnebli were good fellowsorof (?) hers, the rest – well, at least she knew them by names and heard about their experience and professional skills. She saw – and felt clearly – their astonishment about her presence in this chamber. She couldn’t blame them in their jealousy, she was a drow, a daughter of an ancient enemy; the memory of blood cannot be erased easily. She red – oh, she red - READ (?) too much – about the wars of past, about drow’s cruelty and brutality. She also heard one legend, which she wished to believe in heartily. It was rumored about one drow came from west – an exile, a lone elf,whichwho - потому что одушевленное got rid of dark will’s nets.-
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10.04.2007 в 19:06At last, Buradin made a sing - SIGN(?) to guards, and the heavy doors coated with iron began their slow motion. There were just inner gates defending the city and departing it from the working tunnels and mines, which were a (?) well known and lived-in place. But the view of open tunnels was agitating Crasfie; at that very moment she felt something dim and uneasy. This mix of emotions and presentiments made her concentrate and remember Father’s words about care and attentiveness.
When the gates opened widely, clearing the way to the tunnel, Buradin gave the last instructions and directed the brigade to set out. Crasfie took a deep breath and crossed the gates’ threshold.
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10.04.2007 в 21:31Просмотрела, имею возражения и комментарии:
deep gnomes - это в англ. оригинале так? "Глубокие гномы" то есть? Нет, "глубинные")
Drow - лучше обозначение расы писать с большой буквы, вроде бы так принято. А вот и нет. Господин Сальваторе изволил писать с маленькой, и я следом.
let us start (let's start) порядок слов Вот это я забыла сказать - у этих глубоких гномов есть вредная для меня, как писаки, привычка везде, где можно, этот порядок менять. Пытаюсь подражать...
превосходная степень от bad образуется не по общему правилу просто позор на мои седины!
"Who would lead did they resolved" - это типа, "а решили они, кто поведет бригаду?" Косо, но как выправить??? Или черт с ним, если порядок у них все равно везде идет инверсией?
может, INTENTION - намерение? проклятый спеллинг. "Оно у меня хорошее, но почему-то хромает..."
premiere’s (?) quarters - жилисче премьера... Нда, надо подумать, как его лучше обозвать...
drow или drou? у тебя оба варианта встречаются drow
А что у меня с артиклями - балдею просто. Первый класс...
С остальным целиком согласна и еще раз премного благодарю. Что бы я без тебя делала...
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11.04.2007 в 10:49Если у них инверсия - отличительное св-во речи, тогда да, оставляй ее. Вообще эти речевые заморочки и с иностранного на родной переводить сложно...
А как этого премьера обзывает родной автор? Может, лучше chief?
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11.04.2007 в 21:01С инверсией - да, не просто. Реально она получилась у меня только однажды, потом я увлеклась правописанием и позабыла про нее, так что, буду править еще и это.
У автора премьера нету. Действие у него происходит в городе, где живет лично его величество, там премьеры не надобны. Так что, может и chief.
П.С. До сих пор в ужасе от потерянных артиклей - это мой бич еще со школы, подсознательно я считаю их лишними словами, наверное. Радует одно - грамматических ошибок стало меньше!
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12.04.2007 в 11:28-
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12.04.2007 в 19:48-
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13.04.2007 в 10:43-
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14.04.2007 в 16:38-
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16.04.2007 в 10:47-
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17.04.2007 в 20:02-
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18.04.2007 в 10:52-
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18.04.2007 в 21:31- Хосспади, зачем говорить "I had been vodking, when..." или "I was vodking, when", если и так понятно, что напивался?
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19.04.2007 в 11:08Это русскому и так понятно. А англичанин, пока не уяснит положение процесса в пространстве и времени, не успокоится. : )
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19.04.2007 в 21:06-
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20.04.2007 в 11:48-
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20.04.2007 в 21:10-
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21.04.2007 в 12:05-
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21.04.2007 в 16:58-
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26.04.2007 в 20:52Chapter 3. Hopes
The murky galleries of the dark elves’ city are full with grim power of Lloth – menacing drow goddess. Her nets are always impending over each drow, holding him firmly, from the birth till the death. Her dark will is poisoning every minute of drows’ existence. No one knows how and when did She came to a drow race and subdued them, but from that day they became slaves of Her bloodthirstiness and perfidy. But her will is just an intangible force, so She decided to acquire a physical form. With all Her insidiousness She taught drow’s priestesses to summon a yocklols – creatures with scary beauty and formidable forces, magical and physical. But only a chosen one who has Lloth’s favor could call for the yokclol. So, the house which has Lloth’s favor has also a power to be the strongest.
“I cannot wait any longer,” said Mother Chaltria Ta’Vrinn quietly but with emphasis. She was standing upright in the Anteroom of her House, looking sternly on her eldest daughter Kilhe.
“Find her, daughter. I count every lost hour, count every lost minute furthermore. I can feel time slipping past and I feel my inability to hold it, keep it.”
She said her last words with composure and force. Kilhe gazed at her curiously, deciding what to do. House Ta’Vrinn was the fourth house in the Jeharrazeth, the western drow city. It was not high but respectable place in the hierarchy, presupposing some power and authorities. This meant that Matron Mother of the house has a place in The Highest Council of the city, heading by Mother Anjasiira Jhalavar, Matron Mother of the first house in the city. This also meant a permanent jeopardy from the part of the house’s enemies. And now those enemies were the sixth and the seventh houses. They were both weak and had substantially smaller armies, but almost equal to the Ta’Vrinn’s being gathered all together. In addition, something astonishing happened some time ago, something amazing, and abnormal for the drow society. Two houses united with each other, cooperated to remove the fourth house. Usually houses had been withstanding face-to-face – at times using mercenaries’ service. Such straight fight was quiet normal, welcomed, and habitual. But union! And how would they divide the fourth house’s place in the hierarchy – two in one?
“I was looking for her during two weeks. But, you know, she cannot be found if she doesn’t want to,” said Kilhe nervously. “She promised to come when she would find out something about collusion”.
“I know that. What else?” asked Mother Chaltria. Kilhe began to invent an excuse, but at very moment the hall’s doors opened abruptly and widely. A tall and thin drow sharply moved in The Anteroom, directing to the Matron Mother.
“Hope you’re having respectable reason to burst in here, my third son Ukanther,” said Mother Chaltria menacingly. The young drow stopped and nodded deferentially. He knew that every silent minute closing him to a punishment, so he began without delay.
“Sabrae Adi’S’Hee had come”.
“Very well, my son,” said Matron Mother with approval in her tone. This approval was intended on Chaltria’s son, but to the news he brought.
Some motion appeared beyond the doors, and another drow came into The Anteroom. It was not very tall female with rapacious features, sharp manners, and short-cut hair looking like a white feather. She was Sabrae, the head of Secret House, the community of exiles, singles, and orphans – those who had lost their families, respect, and power. Sabrae herself had lost all her kin – House Adi’S’Hee was butchered in a single night. But she kept her name and became “a chief of a damned” a century and a half ago.
“As I promised,” Sabrae said drawing nearer to Mother Chaltria. “Mother Sefanna Hyune and Mother Taisse Samyr made a decision to attack your house in a month. They finished a ritual and summoned the yocklol.”
“How?! How can it be?” asked Mother Chaltria angrily, looking strictly on Sabrae. “House Samyr had lost Lloth’s favor many years ago, and - as I remember – house Hyune hasn’t got much of Her favor also”.
“Ten days ago Mother Sefanna found her prodigal son, who ran away from the family having failed one of significant tasks. She used him to win Lloth’s favor back,” explained Sabrae calmly. She got used to Matron Mothers’ manners many years ago, and felt herself confidently enough.
“A sacrifice?” questioned Mother Chaltria with irritation. This was a sure method to have Lloth’s favor back, and Mother of the 7th house used it well. Those two houses now becoming a real enemy, thought Mother Chaltria. She needed to think the disposition over clearly and in detail to make the only correct decision.
“Sabrae, Ukanther, you may go,” said she. “Kilhe, stay.”
As they stayed alone in the Anteroom, Mother Chaltria voiced a remark tinged with grimness. “As I see, we’re now having a dangerous enemy. If House Hyune had really regained Lloth’s favor, our forces would be almost equal. What would we use against them?”
“Lloth’s favor of our own, maybe?” presupposed Kilhe, trying to say just anything. Even being the eldest daughter of the house Kilhe was apprehending Mother’s rage.
“Didn’t you hear about House Hyune? This is not a point of our superiority any longer. Think, daughter!” said Matron Mother with annoyance. “We had also lost the most part of our jewelry in the last confrontation with House Sebrazzar. So now we’re having not enough means to pay to the mercenaries.”
“Does Sabrae ask so much?” asked Kilhe curiously.
“What else did you expect? We’re already paying her for the information. Our house is weakened.” Mother Chaltria came to her chair and dropped into it wearily. She saw no way out, but she merely had to find it. If only those two houses would successfully onslaught the 4th house, Chaltria would lose her place in the Council, her prestige, power, and maybe life. Everything would be forfeited, even a chance to restore the prestige.
“If we’re out of resources, we should find them,” suggested Kilhe. Mother Chaltria gazed on her heavily, and Kilhe had clearly understood her mistake. At the very moment she had a must to finish her suggestion with a practical idea. And suddenly such an idea came to her, and she voiced it immediately.
“Kreantilyne!”
Mother Chaltria tempered justice with – not mercy, but patience – and decided to let her daughter speak out.
“Go on.”
“We haven’t got an army strong enough to defeat our united enemy, but we’re able to assault deep gnomes and take some treasures from them. Then we shall have enough means to pay to mercenaries, and Sabrae would take the triumph for our House!”
Mother Chaltria knitted her brows pensively. Kilhe breathed with relief.
“Call for the weapon master” said Matron Mother sharply, being fulfilled with aggressiveness and fervor. Kilhe had turned to the doors, when Mother Chaltria added: “And let my children prepare to the march. We shall have the treasures. We merely have no other choice, and let my children struggle for it with all the devotion. And, Kilhe. Tell Nasime to begin the rite in The Chapel, and join her in preparations. We ought to have all the power we can gain.”
“Yes, Mother”, said Kilhe hurrying out of The Anteroom.
Mother Chaltria came to one of the vaulted windows which were opening the view of the city. Faerie fires were shimmering on the walls of pillars, stalagmites, and stalactites. Every mass of those blue, magenta, and green fires were marking the houses’ castles, their fragile galleries and bridges. But Mother Chaltria didn’t note the grace and the charms of the city. She knew that Jeharrazeth was a nest of vipers – beautiful on the outside and menacing on the inside.
And now it kept the jeopardy aimed on Mother Chaltria herself. Two of the Jeharrazeth’s houses were going to onslaught House Ta’Vrinn. In drow’s society one can never be relaxed and calm about his future and state, so Mother Chaltria always was on the alert. Now the tension came to its limit.
Feeling this tension and taking the spiritual forces from it, Mother Chaltria went out and directed to The Chapel. She was going to meet the weapon master on the way to The Anteroom and to give him the main instructions.
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27.04.2007 в 18:17athe drow race and subdued them, but from that day they became slaves of Her bloodthirstiness and perfidy. But her will is just an intangible force, so She decided to acquire a physical form. With all Her insidiousness She taught drow’s priestesses to summon a yocklols (если мн.ч., то без артикля) – creatures with scary beauty and formidable forces, magical and physical. But only a chosen one who has Lloth’s favor could call for the yokclol. So, the house which has Lloth’s favor has also a power to be the strongest.“I cannot wait any longer,” said Mother Chaltria Ta’Vrinn quietly but with emphasis. She was standing upright in the Anteroom of her House, looking sternly on her eldest daughter Kilhe.
“Find her, daughter. I count every lost hour, count every lost minute furthermore. I can feel time slipping past and I feel my inability to hold it, keep it.”
She said her last words with composure and force. Kilhe gazed at her curiously, deciding what to do. House Ta’Vrinn (может, лучше Ta’Vrinn House?) was the fourth house in the Jeharrazeth, the western drow city. It was not high but respectable place in the hierarchy, presupposing some power and authorities. This meant that Matron Mother of the house has a place in The Highest Council of the city, heading (возглавляемый? тогда headed) by Mother Anjasiira Jhalavar, Matron Mother of the first house in the city. This also meant a permanent jeopardy from the part of the house’s enemies. And now those enemies were the sixth and the seventh houses. They were both weak and had substantially smaller armies, but almost equal to the Ta’Vrinn’s being gathered all together. In addition, something astonishing happened some time ago, something amazing, and abnormal for the drow society. Two houses united with each other, cooperated to remove the fourth house. Usually houses had been withstanding face-to-face – at times using mercenaries’ service. Such straight fight was quiet (quite?) normal, welcomed, and habitual. But a union! And how would they divide the fourth house’s place in the hierarchy – two in one?
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27.04.2007 в 18:28“I know that. What else?” asked Mother Chaltria. Kilhe began to invent an excuse, but at very moment the hall’s doors opened abruptly and widely. A tall and thin drow sharply moved in The Anteroom, directing to the Matron Mother.
“Hope you’re having a respectable reason to burst in here, my third son Ukanther,” said Mother Chaltria menacingly. The young drow stopped and nodded deferentially. He knew that every silent minute closing him (was bringing him close?) to a punishment, so he began without delay.
“Sabrae Adi’S’Hee had come”. (А зачем тебе здесь Past Perfect?)
“Very well, my son,” said Matron Mother with approval in her tone. This approval was (not?) intended on Chaltria’s son, but to the news he brought.
Some motion appeared beyond the doors, and another drow came into The Anteroom. It was a not very tall female with rapacious features, sharp manners, and short-cut hair looking like
awhite feathers. She was Sabrae, the head of Secret House, the community of exiles, singles, and orphans – those who had lost their families, respect, and power. Sabrae herself had lost all her kin – House Adi’S’Hee was butchered in a single night. But she kept her name and became “athe chief ofathe damned” a century and a half ago.“As I promised,” Sabrae said drawing nearer to Mother Chaltria. “Mother Sefanna Hyune and Mother Taisse Samyr have made a decision to attack your house in a month. They have finished a ritual and summoned the yocklol.”
“How?! How can it be?” asked Mother Chaltria angrily, looking strictly on Sabrae. “House Samyr had lost Lloth’s favor many years ago, and - as I remember – house Hyune hasn’t got much of Her favor also”.
Все же, наверное, лучше будет ставить сначала название, потом слово house.
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27.04.2007 в 18:33“A sacrifice?” questioned Mother Chaltria with irritation. This was a sure method to have Lloth’s favor back, and Mother of the 7th house used it well. Those two houses now becoming a real enemy, thought Mother Chaltria. She needed to think the disposition over clearly and in detail to make the only correct decision.
“Sabrae, Ukanther, you may go,” said she. “Kilhe, stay.”
As they stayed alone in the Anteroom, Mother Chaltria voiced a remark tinged with grimness. “As I see, we’re now having a dangerous enemy. If House Hyune had really regained Lloth’s favor, our forces would be almost equal. What would we use against them?”
“Lloth’s favor of our own, maybe?” presupposed Kilhe, trying to say just anything. Even being the eldest daughter of the house Kilhe was apprehending (можно не усложнять тут континиусом, просто - apprehended) Mother’s rage.
“Didn’t you hear about House Hyune? This is not a point of our superiority any longer. Think, daughter!” said Matron Mother with annoyance. “We had also lost the most part of our jewelry in the last confrontation with House Sebrazzar. So now we’re having (опять же, нужен ли здесь континиус?) not enough means to pay to the mercenaries.”
“Does Sabrae ask (for?) so much?” asked Kilhe curiously.
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27.04.2007 в 18:40“If we’re out of resources, we should find them,” suggested Kilhe. Mother Chaltria gazed on (at?) her heavily, and Kilhe
had(Past Perfect здесь означал бы, что сначала она поняла, а потом на нее посмотрели) clearly understood her mistake. At the very moment she had a must to finish her suggestion with a practical idea. And suddenly such an idea came to her, and she voiced it immediately.“Kreantilyne!”
Mother Chaltria tempered justice with – not mercy, but patience – and decided to let her daughter speak out.
“Go on.”
“We haven’t got an army strong enough to defeat our united enemy, but we’re able to assault deep gnomes and take some treasures from them. Then we shall have enough means to pay to mercenaries, and Sabrae would take the triumph for our House!”
Mother Chaltria knitted her brows pensively. Kilhe breathed with relief.
“Call for the weapon master” said Matron Mother sharply, being fulfilled (filled?) with aggressiveness and fervor. Kilhe had turned to the doors, when Mother Chaltria added: “And let my children prepare to (for?) the march. We shall have the treasures. We merely have no other choice, and let my children struggle for it with all the devotion. And, Kilhe. Tell Nasime to begin the rite in The Chapel, and join her in the preparations. We ought to have all the power we can gain.”