marina664: переводы

→We appeared at the edge of Perrt, the second-largest town. Getting by the sentry box at the main gate took only a moment. The guards, who resembled enormous, sinewy black leopards, inspected my baggage, which consisted of one talkative sword, cash and the toothbrush in my pocket, and rubbed their jaws along my thigh, scent-marking me to indicate I'd passed inspection.

→It had been about twenty years since I last visited Ori. Nice enough dimension, but the rice beer didn't have the hit of good sake, and the women weren't interested in a guy with scales. Too bad, because they were a nice bunch of pussycats.

→BAMF!

→"She is in Ori."

→"I regret it already." My temper was up. I missed my snack, my third beer, and my quiet walk around the town. I wanted a vacation, and instead I got a sword that speaks fluent Forsooth. If I bent it into paperclips I couldn't get my ten gold pieces back. I stuck my finger at the blade between the eyes where its nose would be, if it had a nose. "All right, I'll give you one chance. How do I find your crystal friend?"

→The blue eyes were wistful. "Alas, I cannot repay my debt to you if you do not carry me to my friend Kelsa's side. If you'd lief not, I would understand, but we both feel strongly. I care not for being in debt, and you do not care to be owed. Indulge me yet one more time, friend Aahz. You will not regret it."

→"The only 'lots' I'm interested in is the money you owe me," I pointed out.

→The sword returned its keen gaze to me. "Well, friend Aahz, if you return to Ittschalk you will walk into a fight. I would gladly be at your side, but you say you care not for a hearty battle. Misadventure has thrown us together. What say we cast our lots into fate's wind?"

→"Cool." The Bonhommey giggled and slid back to the floor.

→"Ersatz am I," the sword said.

→"Who's your friend?" asked Sllisssiik, blinking at the blue eye that stuck up over the torn edge of the leather scabbard.

→I glared. "Shut up, or I'll use you to shave with."

→"Poltroon," the sword said, sulkily. "Not one of those caitiffs back there was armed with anything sharper than a butter knife, and you whisk me away from the only good fight I have seen in ten years."

→Sllisssiik aimed his tongue toward the doors at the rear of the room. "On the left, but watch your step. Tktktksssni went back to shed his skin and disgorged the prey he'd engulfed all over the floor."

→"No, thanks, Sllisssiik," I said. "Just here to make a pit stop."

→"Aahz!" one of them hissed. His black-bead eyes gleamed with pleasure. "You're back! Have another drink!"

→THE INN VANISHED. It was replaced in a magikal second by an equally dimly-lit room, but most of the occupants were already on the floor. Loud music filled the air, along with the indelible stink of stale ale mixed with vomit, fried food and unwashed bodies. The frat party I'd left behind in Bonhomme was still going on. I found myself straddling an upended beer stein and a purple banner reading "Vertebrates Rule!" A couple of the drunks on the carpet lifted their snakelike heads and tasted the air.

→BAMF!

→The mass of Ittschalkians was closing in. As a matter of course I have all the exits from a place scoped out in advance in case of just such a moment as this. I made for the rear of the establishment, only to come face to face with the local gendarmes bounding toward me with purpose in their eyes. One of them was raising a particularly nasty-looking magikal wand from its hip holster. I had no choice. I reached into my pocket for the D-hopper that had brought me there to Ittschalk, and hit RECALL.

→"Draw me, friend!" the sword shouted. "Let me drink of their blood. We will be victorious! Have at you, varlets!"