Готовый перевод История Королевы Эльфов / The story of the Elf Queen: Омак от Авады_1

Instead of proofreading the Chronicle (which I’ll start working on Monday), I’m doing my usual nonsense and, among other things, I’ve come up with a fanfic about the adventures of the Beriadons. It’s not canon… I think, though, who knows. Maybe the Dice will eventually steer the story in that direction.

Morgrave. De Lomer Estate, Small Meeting Room.

"I don't like this," Stepan said gloomily, responding to the de Mare family's stares, ugh, de Lomer. He then repeated it, as if it were for the littlest of children, or for Singha, who was looking at him indignantly and who had clearly caught the unspoken joke, thanks to her recently mastered branch of spiritual suggestion. "I really don't like this."

The Drow were such Drow that Stepan was totally shocked for the first time in ages, but that didn’t stop him from completing the quest. I mean, he managed to swindle the remaining unused noodles from the terrified and equally brainwashed servant-deliverymen and get away with it. He and Singha had dinner in some tiny room, under six layers of distraction fields, having first extracted some multi-component additive from the noodles, designed to gradually increase libido and decrease cognitive abilities of ethernal females. For humans, however, it would simply cause severe constipation, which neither of the two shamans wanted.

Singha, despite her character being quite typical for the region, didn’t understand the reasons for Stepan’s outrage at all. The weak serve, the strong rule. The foolish fall under a spell and serve even more diligently; the clever and powerful cast a spell over the servant’s mind, ensuring their loyalty. That is, she understood that the hunter’s actions were unlawful and all that, but in her view, the cook was just as much to blame for his situation as the dark elf. He knew who he’d be working for, believed the contract would protect him, didn’t notice how he was being manipulated—even though he was gifted, if a bit weak? So he’s a fool himself. To some extent, that’s even true, for Stepan wouldn’t have worked for the drow for any amount of money or safety guarantees, and he certainly wouldn’t have agreed to let such things into his mind.

And so he took on the final part of the quest almost with pleasure.
* * *

Morgrave. De Lomer Estate, Small Meeting Room.

Внимание! Этот перевод, возможно, ещё не готов.
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Переведено на Нотабеноиде
http://notabenoid.org/book/86674/596757

Переводчики: Camrad_RIP