AArtamonov: переводы

→%SPEECH_ON%Our shadows are but cuts upon the world which wound and mend all in one stride of black, dissecting the earth with our presence and self-same shaded presence in such a transient manner that it can't but be a preview of our stay here. But does the shadow think of dissecting you? Does it wish to free others which are like itself? Surely it is not alone. Surely our insides have shades. Do they cast tricks of themselves against our inner walls? What of when we sleep, are these things set against us from within or do they escape out into the world and wander? Are they the guards against our own minds, departing us in the night and leaving us to the horrors of dreamscapes which are surely present when we are awake? What distills the truth of the morning light better, than our shadow cast along the ground, and the fleeting memories of that which it has returned to ward away?%SPEECH_OFF%

→[img]gfx/ui/events/event_183.png[/img]{You take Anselm's skull and hold it up. With a booming voice, you explain the trials and triumphs of Young Anselm, the original Oathtaker. The kids are wowed, looking at one another as you regale them with tale after tale of courage and honor. Eventually, the kids produce a rather extravagant weapon.

→The men offer their services without upfront hiring costs, and not only this but the rest of the company is emboldened by the fact that the world still thinks highly of them and their efforts. All that time spent furnishing the %companyname%'s renown has finally paid off.}

→%SPEECH_ON%We knew of the %companyname% for its reputation, and we marched far to see it for ourselves. Now, if I may speak honestly, y'all seem beat to hell and not at all like the stories spoke of, but, shite, we know this world is hard on people and the only thing to do is make hay of it. We didn't walk all this way to get upset at a little scuff, y'know?%SPEECH_OFF%

→Sighing, you look up. You'd hoped the men would keep it together and not fret over losses but given a whole series of recent events the company almost seems on the precipice of incurring irreversible damage. Morale is low, the treasury is low, but even if you had the monies it seems like many might not even wish to join the company anyway given its lousy performance. Just then, a sellsword enters your camp with three men in tow. The man in front introduces himself, then makes his case.

→[img]gfx/ui/events/event_80.png[/img]{You are sitting in your tent and flipping a quill pen through your fingers. Awhile back you saw a scribe doing it, but you can't figure out how he did it so fast without dropping the damned thing. Even a breeze carries out from your shuffling fingers. %randombrother% shakes his head.

→You wrap your hand around the sword's handle and its steel song hums to a quiet end. You unsheathe it from the earth and thank the kids for their contribution to the quest of the Oathtakers. The kids glance around at each other. One asks another.

→The kids fight each other for a time, but eventually a small girl takes the weapon and hurls it out of the tree fort's window. Its blade stakes into the ground, the steel warbling as it bends back and forth. She scoffs.

→Suddenly, the fort finds reinforcements as a group of more kids join the fray from the adjacent tree's branches, the bastards streaming over like sea raiders boarding a ship. The whole assault is going to all the hells in many handbaskets and a few of the men are complaining that the whole affair is simply far too annoying an endeavor to have it be continued. You wonder if they're just worried about their pride. Sighing, you order a cease to the assault. The kids laugh and mock you, but it is what it is.

→[img]gfx/ui/events/event_97.png[/img]{You punch two fingers forward, ordering the men to assault the tree fort. The kids respond with slingshots and rocks. Pretending the rocks don't hurt like a mug, you tell the kids to give up. In return, they call you an inept fool and a witless schemer. These words hurt almost as much as the stones and rocks.

→[img]gfx/ui/events/event_97.png[/img]{You order the %companyname% to assault the fort. Unable to climb the tree under threat of rocks and slingshots, you have the men build ladders and throw up ropes of their own. The kids scream and throw down sticks and stones, dishing out an unignorable amount of pain, but not nearly as much as the words they call you, awful things like birdwatchers and pig dicks, the mean little bastards. A few manage to cut the ropes as the men are climbing up, leading to even more injuries. But eventually the sellswords roost the kids out, throwing the children out of the tree with great fervor. No surprise to you, your intuition was entirely correct: the kids had stowed away a few armaments and were stockpiling them in the tree fort. You take the goods and have the fort and the tree it rests on burned.}

→Being that kids easily buckle under pressure, you ask if they're hiding something. One makes a jerking off motion and tells you to scram, while another kid slugs him on the shoulder and tells him to shut up. Not exactly the answers of kids hiding treats or pastries. They definitely got something valuable up there.}

→[img]gfx/ui/events/event_97.png[/img]{You come across a group of kids sitting in a treehouse. Eyes glare out of the portholes and around the wooden bastion you can see readied slingshots. As you size up the fort, they draw up the rope ladder and tell you to scram. Curious, you wonder what they might have of value for such an overreaction to a group of men who would almost certainly destroy them.

→{%name% was found deploying his minstrel talents in street scamming. Vouched for by a fellow minstrel, he joined the %companyname% to seek out a life on the road. Hopefully the charlatan-turned-sellsword will be able to 'fake it til he makes it', as he likes to say a little too often.}

→[img]gfx/ui/events/event_31.png[/img]{You say the situation is far too suspicious to risk. %anatomist% says that all knowledge seems suspicious to the laity. You tell him that this 'layman' knows enough to smell a rat and that is that. The anatomist is upset, but you'd rather he be agitated than dead.}

→You know not what or who to trust on the matter, but a dead body bleeding out all over your boots tends to look bad no matter the circumstances. You hide the body, after happily stripping it the gear from it, of course. %anatomist% seems leery of %killer%. He mentions that the killer on the run's tone of voice seemed to be one of immediately produced conjecture or, as the layman puts it, 'acting.' Seeing as how what's done is done, you simply tell him to help carry the gear back to inventory.}

→%SPEECH_ON%Hey, looks like we got some free gear, eh? We should probably hide the body though. This man puts up a great front of eminence and some may find his absence worth investigation.%SPEECH_OFF%

→[img]gfx/ui/events/event_12.png[/img]{You agree to let the anatomist and strange scribe have their conversations, yourself tagging along. The man takes you to the head of an alleyway which is considerably suspicious. He turns around with a wild grin on his face and he slowly starts to unsheathe a dagger from his sleeve, and then suddenly a knife stabs through his face, a glimmer of steel winking in his mouth. As he gargles, another knife comes in and cuts his throat in a quick slash. %killer%, the alleged killer on the run, appears from the alleyway.

→[img]gfx/ui/events/event_51.png[/img]{You take the minstrel along free of any hiring charges. %anatomist% the anatomist looks a little sullen about the whole affair, saying that he longs for rare knowledge, yet all this world seems to have on offer are scams and falsities. Smiling, you tell him to consider this street knowledge. He smiles as well.

→%SPEECH_ON%Captain, this is %fakescribe%. He's on hard times out here in %townname%. What say he come along into the %companyname%? He's a lot like me, a shitass fighter, but a man of spunk, of moxy, a man who has what it takes if merely given the time to find it, especially if there's a woman involved.%SPEECH_OFF%