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OOC: coming through
Nov. 5th, 2002 01:03 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
lederhosen.livejournal.comOK, about to copy over entries from my own LJ... these will be backdated.
Nov. 5th, 2002
lederhosen.livejournal.com
Slumming in Ruatha part the Red Sea
Nov. 5th, 2002 09:07 amsilverblue.livejournal.comCannot understand humans. Funny little things. Was cornered by Cute Human I Am Not Allowed To Like Or Cathal Will Sulk and Marquis Akhran in tavern last night. Normally would not mind so much being...forced...into conversation, however at last meeting ended up yelling 'Stupid stupid human creatures!' at Tara and was expecting angsty tears. Did not happen. Rather chuffed. Must be because of being cute Mechanista boy. Go me! Human made point of telling Marquis that am boy, not man, due to difference in maturity level between elves and humans. V.annoying - never going to get mad schnoogies at this rate.
Got hair brushed. Yay! Must turn up with messy hair more often. Rather nice having hair brushed by human. Obviously appeals to bestial grooming urge in these barbarians. Make note not to tell brother to avoid inevitable scene. Add to note - every time describe humans as cute, vein in Cathal's head throbs. V.entertaining. Must experiment further.
Was interrogated by Akhran, who is burly type about Iltyr Castes and explained repeatedly, but humans like wolverine with skunk - will not let go, but don't understand either. Hah, got lecture on how am elitist - scarcely fair, considering that am intelligent inventor who will live for centuries while rugged man with axe will be decrepit in a month or so. Did not point this out, as rather nervous of being hit by said axe. V.violent people, humans. While am tall, even for swishy dark elf, do not fancy losing several inches around throat level. Blood so hard to get out of velvet.
Explained that Marquessa Brenna - Iltyr leader of bard's guild, bet she dyes that hair of hers because silver ain't her natural colour - is Warrior Caste, and therefore scary and dangerous, because does not use darkpowder pistols but rather unsophisticated and messy swords. Fortunately, humans never see pistol before and not know how messy bullet in sternum can be. Yay! Decline, very sadly, to demonstrate in tavern, as feel patience of shortstuff dwarving the bar would be strained given have already set fire to tables, caused scenes, and lost razor sharp toys under seats this month.
Glowering dwarf barkeep is being v.unfair - have not actually killed anyone in bar yet, unlike Shadoen, but they allowed back in if show pass and promise to pay for cocktails. Since brother decided I am too young for alcohol (has since quoted age of century as being minimum – distinct irritation on my part as Cath cannot be day over thirty and drinks like fish), have been less popular with Klagg. Attempted to win smile from short unattractive dwarf by demonstrating toy, was told Shadoen do less damage to walls.
Honestly. Was only one support beam. So picky.
People horrified today: 0. V.bad. Losing my touch.
Got hair brushed. Yay! Must turn up with messy hair more often. Rather nice having hair brushed by human. Obviously appeals to bestial grooming urge in these barbarians. Make note not to tell brother to avoid inevitable scene. Add to note - every time describe humans as cute, vein in Cathal's head throbs. V.entertaining. Must experiment further.
Was interrogated by Akhran, who is burly type about Iltyr Castes and explained repeatedly, but humans like wolverine with skunk - will not let go, but don't understand either. Hah, got lecture on how am elitist - scarcely fair, considering that am intelligent inventor who will live for centuries while rugged man with axe will be decrepit in a month or so. Did not point this out, as rather nervous of being hit by said axe. V.violent people, humans. While am tall, even for swishy dark elf, do not fancy losing several inches around throat level. Blood so hard to get out of velvet.
Explained that Marquessa Brenna - Iltyr leader of bard's guild, bet she dyes that hair of hers because silver ain't her natural colour - is Warrior Caste, and therefore scary and dangerous, because does not use darkpowder pistols but rather unsophisticated and messy swords. Fortunately, humans never see pistol before and not know how messy bullet in sternum can be. Yay! Decline, very sadly, to demonstrate in tavern, as feel patience of shortstuff dwarving the bar would be strained given have already set fire to tables, caused scenes, and lost razor sharp toys under seats this month.
Glowering dwarf barkeep is being v.unfair - have not actually killed anyone in bar yet, unlike Shadoen, but they allowed back in if show pass and promise to pay for cocktails. Since brother decided I am too young for alcohol (has since quoted age of century as being minimum – distinct irritation on my part as Cath cannot be day over thirty and drinks like fish), have been less popular with Klagg. Attempted to win smile from short unattractive dwarf by demonstrating toy, was told Shadoen do less damage to walls.
Honestly. Was only one support beam. So picky.
People horrified today: 0. V.bad. Losing my touch.
During the hiatus...
Nov. 5th, 2002 12:39 pmlederhosen.livejournal.comSince Calair's adventures are on hold for a couple of weeks, it seemed like a good time to give you some insight into elvish culture. After all, elves wouldn't be elves if they didn't write irritating poetry and inflict it on people ad nauseam.
Translator's Note: Did you know that Elvish poetry includes a style very similar to haiku? The eahi is a short poem formed in five syllables, then seven, then five; like haiku, the eahi commonly dwells on natural themes.
But while the haiku's structure is typically composed of two elements, separated by a pause, the eahi - illustrated here with an example from Calair's notebook - is composed of three, and the structure is more rigid. The first, five-syllable line, describes something external to the writer:
trouble rears its head
The second, of seven syllables, forms a conclusion from the first part - sometimes, but not always, describing the writer's response:
have a helping of my spear.
The third, of five syllables, brings the poem to completion - always with the same ancient phrase:
still the prettiest.
Elvish speech utilizes a much greater variety of sounds than human tongues, and it follows that Elvish expressions typically have a shorter syllable count than their human translations.
One happy consequence of this linguistic curiosity is that an eahi stripped of its last line - thus, containing twelve syllables and two parts - can often be translated almost directly to the conventional English-language haiku form, with very little alteration in meaning. And so, without further ado, I present several of Calair's eahi in translation.
short and hairy chap,
intricately braided beard.
hydrophobia.
outclassed by my pet
in the matter of hit points -
I need more XP.
otters frolicking,
happy playful water folk.
argh get it off me.
useful zappy spells
and he's quite a good shot too.
must be the elf blood.
easily broken
hyperactive lizard-folk.
kobolds are our friends.
danger awaits those
who go poking through my stuff...
who's a good snakey?
time for cunning plans
Andrew wins initiative.
something bad happens.
truest friend of all,
well-placed flask of burning oil.
come ye, and get some.
Translator's Note: Did you know that Elvish poetry includes a style very similar to haiku? The eahi is a short poem formed in five syllables, then seven, then five; like haiku, the eahi commonly dwells on natural themes.
But while the haiku's structure is typically composed of two elements, separated by a pause, the eahi - illustrated here with an example from Calair's notebook - is composed of three, and the structure is more rigid. The first, five-syllable line, describes something external to the writer:
trouble rears its head
The second, of seven syllables, forms a conclusion from the first part - sometimes, but not always, describing the writer's response:
have a helping of my spear.
The third, of five syllables, brings the poem to completion - always with the same ancient phrase:
still the prettiest.
Elvish speech utilizes a much greater variety of sounds than human tongues, and it follows that Elvish expressions typically have a shorter syllable count than their human translations.
One happy consequence of this linguistic curiosity is that an eahi stripped of its last line - thus, containing twelve syllables and two parts - can often be translated almost directly to the conventional English-language haiku form, with very little alteration in meaning. And so, without further ado, I present several of Calair's eahi in translation.
short and hairy chap,
intricately braided beard.
hydrophobia.
outclassed by my pet
in the matter of hit points -
I need more XP.
otters frolicking,
happy playful water folk.
argh get it off me.
useful zappy spells
and he's quite a good shot too.
must be the elf blood.
easily broken
hyperactive lizard-folk.
kobolds are our friends.
danger awaits those
who go poking through my stuff...
who's a good snakey?
time for cunning plans
Andrew wins initiative.
something bad happens.
truest friend of all,
well-placed flask of burning oil.
come ye, and get some.
Our Friend, Fire
Nov. 5th, 2002 07:57 pmlederhosen.livejournal.comMore adventuring. Pay 200 gold in salvage to have dwarf fixed up after he missed that poison needle trap.
Even though there was a 50/50 chance he'd live anyway. Resisted temptation to pay with dwarf's shiny new shortsword, the one I found while digging through leech-infested mud.
Discover have picked up rare wasting disease, transmitted by leech bites. This one, not curable by town healer.
Calair not in good mood. If dwarf *ever again* starts whining about being asked to do dangerous work, well... hmmmm.
Poll: Which dwarven bone would look nicest on my spear?
On plus side: have several weeks to get enough money together to be healed, and get to Big Town to find healer. Also, still the prettiest.
While in town, take opportunity to pick up (a) several flasks of oil, (b) pry-bar (in future we will never again open chests via the lock, but will take the damn hinges off the back first) and (c) small axe (for opening of doors with non-exposed hinges.)
Return to Buried Mansion. Seek out room of giant ants from which we previously ran away, and give them a good seeing-to. Update kill tally.
Ric Giantreaver, Dwarven Thief: 2 ants.
Andrew Faron, Human Fighter: 1 ant.
Calair Icebrook, Half-Elven Druid: 17 ants.
Still the prettiest; also, am damn good shot with flaming oil bottles. Boil An Anthill. Unfortunately chief treasure guarded by ants was in "scroll" form, but would rather be alive and have the XP.
Even though there was a 50/50 chance he'd live anyway. Resisted temptation to pay with dwarf's shiny new shortsword, the one I found while digging through leech-infested mud.
Discover have picked up rare wasting disease, transmitted by leech bites. This one, not curable by town healer.
Calair not in good mood. If dwarf *ever again* starts whining about being asked to do dangerous work, well... hmmmm.
Poll: Which dwarven bone would look nicest on my spear?
On plus side: have several weeks to get enough money together to be healed, and get to Big Town to find healer. Also, still the prettiest.
While in town, take opportunity to pick up (a) several flasks of oil, (b) pry-bar (in future we will never again open chests via the lock, but will take the damn hinges off the back first) and (c) small axe (for opening of doors with non-exposed hinges.)
Return to Buried Mansion. Seek out room of giant ants from which we previously ran away, and give them a good seeing-to. Update kill tally.
Ric Giantreaver, Dwarven Thief: 2 ants.
Andrew Faron, Human Fighter: 1 ant.
Calair Icebrook, Half-Elven Druid: 17 ants.
Still the prettiest; also, am damn good shot with flaming oil bottles. Boil An Anthill. Unfortunately chief treasure guarded by ants was in "scroll" form, but would rather be alive and have the XP.
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