Revision as of 12:16, 8 November 2020

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Translation to review

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Reference text ( Maintained text, used as reference ) :
Notes: (Lanstiril, 2020-11-08)

The Wind is closing in.

But Mac'Eoppy doesn't care. He prepares his caravan.

Mac'Eoppy believes in Jena, and in the Karavan. Not in those ridiculous superstitions of drunken Trykers.

He says seelagan to his wife, and joyfully leaves his village to increase his fortune.

The Wind Whispers.

The caravan is progressing well, and Mac'Eoppy is happy.

He has already avoided a customs control, and his profit is increasing accordingly.

The caravan progresses well, and Mac'Eoppy ignores the Wind. He counts the dappers in his head.

The Wind bulks up.

And lifts the sawdust. He slaps and whips those who stand in its way.

The mektoubs huddle together, and the homins take shelter near them.

But Mac'Eoppy sees only an unexpected storm, and continues to move forward.

The Wind is dropping.

A little. And in the debris of the storm, two mektoubs are missing.

Broken bones, torn skins, putrefied flesh, the two poor beasts are quickly found.

But Mac'Eoppy blames the wild beasts, and he only regrets the lost loads

The Wind soughs.

Words of hatred and violence. And the caravan moves slowly.

Mac'Eoppy is looking for the one who lost the two pack animals.

And mistrust, and suspicion, spread in Mac'Eoppy's heart.

The Wind sings.

One of the mektoubers has vanished, and Mac'Eoppy is contented.

He's the culprit, of course. A rotten fruit that won't spoil the others.

Mac'Eoppy carries on his way, not looking for him anymore.

The Wind blackens.

The bandits were looking for the village. They found the caravan.

They torture the homins, and plunder the mektoubs.

Mac'Eoppy cries and does not hear the Wind in the midst of the suffering screams.

The Wind has fallen.

For an hour, maybe a day. Finally a little respite.

Mac'Eoppy and a few others managed to flee, abandoning injured ones.

But the bandits know where to find the village, and intend to take revenge.

The Wind whistles.

The fugitives move forward as they can, hands on their ears.

Mac'Eoppy didn't see the two who fell, struck down by predators.

He only thinks about his wife and his village. To get there before the bandits do..

The Wind spits.

And the sawdust it lifts and throws, tears the skin off the homins.

Mac'Eoppy has sheltered behind his aides until they fell one after the other.

Now he moves forward alone, exhausted, mad with pain.

The Wind howls.

And its voice fills Mac'Eoppy's head.

He only has one thought left. To find his wife. To protect her.

Arrive before the bandits. Go forward. Go forward. Go forward.

The Wind falls silent.

And Mac'Eoppy finally sees his village. His house.

Everything is quiet. Too quiet. Would the bandits have already taken everything.

Slowly, he slips into the night, reaches the door of his house.

The Wind listens.

Mac'Eoppy saw a shape moving.

Screaming, he bounded. To protect his wife. To forget he betrayed his friends.

He hits, he beats, he strikes, with all his limbs, with all his strength.

The Wind sneers.

Neighbors come running up, asking what's going on. Who killed Mac'Eoppy's wife?

The murderer ran away as discovering his victim.

Shade in the night. Meeting the bandits who arrive.

This tale^♦ has been told by Krill on 2610 Anlor Winn Convention. (OOC : Halloween 2020)
♦ « Anlor Winn » is the Tyll for english « Wicked Wind »

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