A Tale of the Desert - Revision history

Nilstilar at 19:39, 25 June 2024

2024-06-25T19:39:42Z

Nilstilar at 19:37, 25 June 2024

2024-06-25T19:37:33Z

Nilstilar at 14:10, 25 June 2024

2024-06-25T14:10:21Z

Nilstilar at 14:04, 25 June 2024

2024-06-25T14:04:14Z

Nilstilar at 15:30, 22 June 2024

2024-06-22T15:30:30Z

Nilstilar at 15:20, 22 June 2024

2024-06-22T15:20:30Z

Nilstilar at 22:21, 19 June 2024

2024-06-19T22:21:54Z

Craftjenn at 19:39, 18 June 2024

2024-06-18T19:39:53Z

Nilstilar at 13:26, 18 June 2024

2024-06-18T13:26:47Z

Nilstilar at 12:02, 18 June 2024

2024-06-18T12:02:33Z

@@ Line 4: / Line 4: @@
 |ES =Un cuento del desierto|ESs=5
 |EN =A Tale of the Desert|ENs =0
-|FR =Un conte du Désert|FRs=2
+|FR =Un conte du Désert|FRs=4
 |RU =Сказка о пустыне|RUs=5
 |H =1

@@ Line 7: / Line 7: @@
 |RU =Сказка о пустыне|RUs=5
 |H =1
-|palette=matis
+|palette=fyros
 }}</noinclude>
 {{Clear}}

@@ Line 53: / Line 53: @@
 “''Everyone feels that way the first time.''”, the elder smiled, “''Calm yourself, child. Mektoub blood is not for everyone.''”
 I swallowed hard, hot bile rising in my throat as I looked at the ground. There were indeed unmistakable bloodstains and splashes at my feet. Pulling myself together I looked at the older woman with my best display of courtly composure.
-“''Ah, a true Matis." she stated dryly.''”
+“''Ah, a true Matis.''”, she stated dryly.
 “''But now to your questions, child. Because basically it all boils down to one question. Why?''”
 I nodded and remained silent.

@@ Line 52: / Line 52: @@
 “''I… Forgive me, I didn't mean to belittle your hospitality… I… I…''”, I stammered.<br>
 “''Everyone feels that way the first time.''”, the elder smiled, “''Calm yourself, child. Mektoub blood is not for everyone.''”
-I swallowed hard, hot bile rising in my throat as I looked at the ground. There were indeed unmistakable bloodstains and splashes at my feet. Pulling myself together I looked at the older woman with my best display of courtly composure.<br>
+I swallowed hard, hot bile rising in my throat as I looked at the ground. There were indeed unmistakable bloodstains and splashes at my feet. Pulling myself together I looked at the older woman with my best display of courtly composure.
 “''Ah, a true Matis." she stated dryly.''”
 “''But now to your questions, child. Because basically it all boils down to one question. Why?''”

@@ Line 13: / Line 13: @@
 {{Quotation|''[[User:Lylanea Vicciona|'''Lylanea Vicciona''']], Bard of the Four Lands''|
 <poem>
-A long time ago, I walked through the dry heat of the Frahar Towers. Only in the shade of the huge plateaus could this heat be endured to some extent, ... and yet, it was autumn. It didn't help that I was wearing my rather cheap, dark blue heavy armor. But I finally had to do the job the Karavan had given me. Even back then I hated killing, but the Karavan ambassador had made it unmistakably clear that this particular band of bandits were merciless butchers, who needed to be punished. Meaning, killed. Why did these bandit gangs still get so many members?
+A long time ago, I walked through the dry heat of the Frahar Towers. Only in the shade of the huge plateaus could this heat be endured to some extent… and yet, it was autumn. It didn't help that I was wearing my rather cheap, dark blue heavy armor. But I finally had to do the job the Karavan had given me. Even back then I hated killing, but the Karavan ambassador had made it unmistakably clear that this particular band of bandits were merciless butchers, who needed to be punished. Meaning, killed. Why did these bandit gangs still get so many members?
 {{Couillard2}}
 I contemplated this and other thoughts, as I made my way through the dusty canyons. Their smooth walls surrounding me like dark, honey-colored waves. Sweat collected inside my helmet and it felt like I was a piece of meat slowly steamed to perfect tenderness. I leaned against a wall, took the thing off and drank some water from my canteen. In stark contrast to my face, my tongue felt like a piece of dried meat. Though the sweat evaporated quickly. I could smell dust and animal droppings, faintly the smell of burning wood wafted over from the  Flaming Forest basin. A sudden gust of wind blew dust into my mouth and after I had coughed and spit it out I drank another sip from my canteen, spitting the warm water onto the ground. Instantly I regretted the action. Water was precious here. Greedily, the desert floor absorbed the water before it could evaporate in the blazing sun. I held my breath as I pulled the slightly stinking helmet back over my face. Sighing, looking down a gully ablaze with sunshine, I continued my search for the bandit camp.

@@ Line 36: / Line 36: @@
 The dark-haired one reluctantly lowered her dagger but still glowered at me, like she'd rather set me on fire with her gaze, than talk to me in peace.
-The older woman came forward, her hair as red as the evening sky, shot trough with white clouds, her face crinkled with lines that the sun and dry air had etched into it over the course of a long, hard life.
+The older woman came forward, her hair as red as the evening sky, shot through with white clouds, her face crinkled with lines that the sun and dry air had etched into it over the course of a long, hard life.
 The look she gave me was a mixture of outright hostility and doubt, sending cold shivers down my spine.
 “''Ma'Duk reveals his wisdom in strange ways child. You are indeed not the first to ask this.''”
-“''However you are the first Matis I have met who is either bold or stupid enough to do so. Usually it is unmarried or widowed Fyra, who have no idea yet of what to expect.''”, she gestured and the dark-haired woman slowly, reluctantly lowered her dagger.<br>
+“''However you are the first Matis I have met who is either bold or stupid enough to do so. Usually it is unmarried or widowed Fyra, who have no idea yet of what to expect.''”, she gestured and the dark-haired woman slowly, reluctantly lowered her dagger.
 A bitter smile deepened the wrinkles on her face and I realized that quite a few of them were wrinkles of sorrow and pain. This woman had lived through bad times and had lost much.

@@ Line 31: / Line 31: @@
 [[File:Arme Matis- séparateur.png|200px|center]]
-"You arrogant hussy! I should slit your pale throat right now, just for your naivety!"
+“''You arrogant hussy! I should slit your pale throat right now, just for your naivety!''”
-An older Fyra stepped up to her and placed a reassuring hand on her crony's shoulder.<br>
+An older Fyra stepped up to her and placed a reassuring hand on her crony's shoulder.
-"Let her go, Bekaya. Look at her. - She's spoiled and has no idea what's really going on in the Empire, she's not even a Fyros.", the elder spoke in slow and deliberate tones.<br>
+“''Let her go, Bekaya. Look at her. - She's spoiled and has no idea what's really going on in the Empire, she's not even a Fyros.''”, the elder spoke in slow and deliberate tones.
 The dark-haired one reluctantly lowered her dagger but still glowered at me, like she'd rather set me on fire with her gaze, than talk to me in peace.

@@ Line 88: / Line 88: @@
 <noinclude>
 {{Portal|Literature}}
 </noinclude>

@@ Line 18: / Line 18: @@
 As I rounded an outcropping I spotted a small pack of Frahar sleeping away the midday heat. The primitives were huddled in the shade of a hollow in the smooth wooden wall of the canyon. Slowly I crept on, trying hard to keep out of earshot and to not make any sound. I had no intention of waking these half-animals from their slumber. As I made my way through the shadowy ravines, my thoughts again strayed back to why young Homins would choose to live as outlaws. Why live under these conditions? Why not stay on the correct path? Even when it was as harsh and somewhat rigid as the Fyros way of living.
-According to the description the Karavan had provided, I was nearing the camp. Cautiously, I peered around the corner into a wide ravine. It's interior plunged into blueish shadows and scattered with a few scraggly plants, the surprisingly huge skull of an Arma and some tents. Among the tents moved slender figures, going about their business. At the far side of the camp I could see some of them walking a perimeter, spears and a few guns at the ready. Why were there no sentries on this side of the ravine? Did they patrol from one side of the camp to the other? Then I spotted two women, leaning against the canyon wall a short distance away. They daggers and swords but were just engaged in drinking from a water skin they passed between them. A short break from duty, it seemed.
+According to the description the Karavan had provided, I was nearing the camp. Cautiously, I peered around the corner into a wide ravine. It's interior plunged into blueish shadows and scattered with a few scraggly plants, the surprisingly huge skull of an Arma and some tents. Among the tents moved slender figures, going about their business. At the far side of the camp I could see some of them walking a perimeter, spears and a few guns at the ready. Why were there no sentries on this side of the ravine? Did they patrol from one side of the camp to the other? Then I spotted two hominas, leaning against the canyon wall a short distance away. They daggers and swords but were just engaged in drinking from a water skin they passed between them. A short break from duty, it seemed.
 As I kept watching, something tickled the back of my mind. I took a long hard look at the bandits in front of me, in the camp. Something was missing from this camp. Something essential, normal even 5
-Goddess! These are all women!?
+Goddess! These are all hominas!?
-What in the name of the dragon had made a crew of women live out their lives in this barren region? I had to know.<br>
+What in the name of the dragon had made a crew of hominas live out their lives in this barren region? I had to know.<br>
 I slid my sword back into its scabbard and stepped out from behind the wall into the narrow passage of the gorge.<br>
 “''Ho! Greetings Fyrae. I've come to talk!''” I called.