Depressa: переводы

→d8 Event

→As with many other races whose native language is difficult for more humanlike vocal organs to deal with, ravenfolk tend to use different names among humans, dwarves, elves, and other humanoids than they use among their own kind. When choosing human-friendly names, ravenfolk borrow liberally from local traditions, mythology, and popular songs and poetry. They prefer names that invoke imagery (Starshadow, Moonglow, Rainshimmer) over more prosaic labels, but that’s as much consistency as it’s possible to define. Furthermore, since these aren’t their real names, ravenfolk have little attachment to them. They swap names whenever they feel like it, until they finally settle on one that really suits them.

→It’s common to string several labels together to get an identifying label (Long-claws-fears-lightning). When they take a “human” name (meaning, for the benefit of humans), it tends to follow the same pattern. Somewhat confusingly, these names also tend to change every time a trollkin introduces itself, since many won’t be bothered to remember what other people called them last week, or yesterday.

→Trollkin don’t attach much importance to names. They carry names more as a convenience to the races that rely on them than for their own purposes. Among themselves, trollkin refer to each other by identifying marks, well-known deeds, or recognizable characteristics (Bent-nose, Long-claws, Fears-lightning). These labels change depending on what the trollkin has done recently and who’s doing the talking. As long as other trollkin recognize who is being referred to, that’s all that matters.

→But revelry can’t lighten your strange burden or lessen the pull in your heart to take a step when you’ve stood still too long. Some call your people cursed, and perhaps they are, for they have no homes but the saddle and the caravan. If you tarry too long in one place, you grow barren and joyless. The colorful silks you wear turn gray and dull, your thoughts turn cloudy, and wolves lurk beyond the low light of your campfire. Don’t fall to this curse, nomad; walk, run, or ride from it as fast as you can.

→You have returned to your clan’s tabor after riding the trade caravan to Vellarsheim. Kariv is the name of your people, and you are nomads of the Rothenian plain. The hoof and the wheel are your destiny. None know the land as you do, for you’ve seen it all in your wandering, from the sod huts of the winterfolk in sternest Domovogrod to the limits of Kaa’nesh and its brutish inhabitants. Your pony, sash, and blade have accompanied you at each step, as has your love for laughter, for drink, and for games of chance.

→You yearn to see the world beyond the trees. It calls to you, and it terrifies you. How can you walk freely on the roads of Midgard when Grandmother wishes to eat your feet? What have you made from the mushrooms and rooty soil of the forest that will aid you? A hat, made of redcaps and small growing plants is your safety. If you leave and risk the ancient ire of Baba Yaga, remember—never remove your living headpiece and never let the plants woven into its brim go thirsty.

→As a gnome of the Niemheims, you bear the mark of a bargain made long before your birth. You hail from the nine Great Cities, which aspire to greatness among the trees of the Wormwood. Surely that faint whiff of brimstone that haunts your steps is not your fault! You have stayed safe in your forest, shrouded from the gaze of Baba Yaga and her daughters. You’ve learned the limits of your sanctuary and have heeded the warnings never to stray beyond the treeline. In your youth, you saw bloody sacrifices made to devils; sometimes unwary travelers and sometimes kin, but all offered to the eleven hells at the point of a blade.

→Redcap. To stay hidden from the eyes of Baba Yaga, the gnomes of Niemheim made a bargain with a powerful devil. So long as they stay inside the Wormwood, the witch can’t find them. A few hopeful gnomes posit that as long as the Wormwood remains above them, they remain safe. With that in mind, they craft calfskin caps with living vestiges of the forest growing from the brim. Mushrooms, small plants, a bird's nest, and other elements of the Wormwood sprout from the cap, and continue to grow so long as they are tended to. A Niemheim Gnome may graft the miniature forest onto the surface of any helm or hat (including magical ones). Should the hat be destroyed, the gnome has one week to return to the Wormwood before Baba Yaga begins her pursuit . . .

→More importantly, its members are created one at a time and come from a vast array of backgrounds. Nevertheless, they maintain rich traditions of history, culture, and spirituality all their own, largely because of the influence of the race’s patron, the gear goddess Rava.

→The Tsar of Vidim employs a great flock of huginn as his personal spies and assassins. Aside from their larcenous instincts, ravenfolk are scrupulous about keeping their word. That’s not to say they don’t lie; ravenfolk lie as much as anyone else, and maybe a bit more when the pressure’s on. But if a promise or a vow can be extracted from one, it’s as reliable as gold—which may be why ravenfolk seldom make promises or vows. Otherwise, their personalities are as varied as those of other races.

→They adapt readily to whatever environment they occupy, from remote wilderness to big cities— although their presence in cities is not always welcome. They frequently take on local customs, traditions, and beliefs to fit in with the community.

→The feathers became ravenfolk, and they spread across the world as Wotan’s spies. In truth, the ravenfolk are a bridge between everyday life on Midgard and the realm of the gods. They share Wotan’s secret knowledge of the branches of Yggdrasil the world tree. In the far northern reaches, the huginn are both the embodiment of the gods’ will and a symbol of inevitable death in battle.

→The ravenfolk of Midgard (also known as the huginn) are wily scoundrels, tricksters, assassins, spies, and thieves. The oldest tales say that the god Wotan the Rune Father brought the clever ravenfolk into being when he plucked the feathers from his two pet ravens, Huginn (Thought) and Muninn (Memory), and let the feathers drift down to Midgard.

→They have settlements in Trollheim, Vidim, Domovogrod, Nuria Natal, and the Dragon Empire. None of these are large, but in Nuria Natal at least, they serve honorably as temple guards and as defenders of the faithful of Horus. Ravenfolk have no wings, but they do have tail feathers that sometimes flare out when they’re angry.

→They are despised for their strange and secretive culture, and criticized for having no true culture of their own. The ravenfolk are a study in contradictions. These truths, half-truths, and lies conceal a greater mystery that few outsiders know. If the ravenfolk have a homeland, it is in Beldestan to the east; or a branch of Wotan’s tree to the North; or on a high cliff of Horus’ hidden temple in the South.

→Few races in Midgard live amid so much rumor, suspicion, and outright falsehood as the ravenfolk. They make their rookeries in every major city. Depending on whom you ask, they might condemn the ravenfolk as solitary wanderers bearing misfortune or praise them as messengers from the gods. Ravenfolk are loyal comrades and treacherous thieves, brave warriors and contemptible cowards.

→SKIN DEEP

→With a thick hide of green or brown, trollkin are superficially similar to orcs or hobgoblins. While many trollkin share a rough and unkempt appearance, their inhuman lineage can show itself in a wide variety of forms. Some trollkin could even be considered beautiful by human standards, except for some subtle marker of their monstrosity, such as stone–grey skin or talon‑tipped fingers. Many trollkin wear tattoos to show tribal loyalty or to venerate their ancestor spirits. The bravest among them brand their flesh to show mastery over their own fear, since only acid and fire leave long-lasting scars on their skin.

→While the majority of trollkin live in remote communities, some thrive in civilization. But even within cities, trollkin tend to stick together in their own neighborhoods that eventually begin to resemble urban tribes. Most urban trollkin find work that exploits their nature. Mercenary work is the most common, but they sometimes join city guard forces. Thieves’ guilds and other disreputable elements love to employ trollkin as arm-breakers and debt-collectors. Smiths and artisans sometimes take on a trollkin partner or apprentice to add an exotic or savage flair to their offerings.