en to en_GB translation catalogue (69 entries)

note: [campaign]: id=Winds_of_Fate
en: As the once plentiful hunting grounds of Morogor slip below the waves, war looms between drakes driven rogue by hunger and those still honorable. Yet the winds of fate may be shifting, for inspired by legends of vast far away lands, a pack of fledgling hunters makes ready to lead their kind on a journey towards salvation.
en_GB: As the once plentiful hunting grounds of Morogor slip below the waves, war looms between drakes driven rogue by hunger and those still honourable. Yet the winds of fate may be shifting, for inspired by legends of vast far away lands, a pack of fledgling hunters makes ready to lead their kind on a journey towards salvation.

note: [campaign]: id=Winds_of_Fate
en: <i>Features full recall costs and no gold carryover.</i>
en_GB: <i>Features full recall costs and no gold carry-over.</i>

note: [part]
en: They saw the diminishment of our nourishing lands as the isles of Morogor slipped into the sea. They heard the cries of starving hatchlings before the wasting’s eternal hush.
en_GB: They saw the diminishing of our nourishing lands as the isles of Morogor slipped into the sea. They heard the cries of starving hatchlings before the wasting’s eternal hush.

note: [part]
en: Newer flights scraped out a meager existence on islets of rock their ancestors would have scorned. With envious eyes these flights gazed upon the green expanses of the central isles. Then it began...
en_GB: Newer flights scraped out a meagre existence on islets of rock their ancestors would have scorned. With envious eyes these flights gazed upon the green expanses of the central isles. Then it began...

note: [part]
en: One by one, the most desperate flights turned rogue. They broke the long peace among drakes by invading the domains of their neighbors. One by one, the rogues were destroyed by the honorable flights in accord with the Ways. Still more turned; two by two, then four by four. Soon enough there would be more flights to betray the Ways of Morogor than uphold them.
en_GB: One by one, the most desperate flights turned rogue. They broke the long peace among drakes by invading the domains of their neighbours. One by one, the rogues were destroyed by the honourable flights in accord with the Ways. Still more turned; two by two, then four by four. Soon enough there would be more flights to betray the Ways of Morogor than uphold them.

note: [part] The ‘sea skimmers’ referred to here are the human and orc ships in TRoW.
en: It was in this dark time the glider caste felt a familiar Windpath under their wings, a path newly recast from the twisting Winds of Fate. Curious landbound creatures had been sighted on the Isle of Omarath. Faring across the ocean upon their wooden sea skimmers, they journeyed from beyond one side of the horizon to the other. Even the strongest of wing could not safely follow them so far as they went, lest they pass the point of no return. Just the same, the ancient glider caste had more than a notion of their destination.
en_GB: It was in this dark time the glider caste felt a familiar Windpath under their wings, a path newly recast from the twisting Winds of Fate. Curious land-bound creatures had been sighted on the Isle of Omarath. Faring across the ocean upon their wooden sea skimmers, they journeyed from beyond one side of the horizon to the other. Even the strongest of wing could not safely follow them so far as they went, lest they pass the point of no return. Just the same, the ancient glider caste had more than a notion of their destination.

note: [message]: speaker=Gorlack
en: We need no further hunters to prevail here.
    No less of a challenge readies us for aspirancy.
    Neither the reascension long fortold by your caste.
    
    Call the Hunt.
en_GB: We need no further hunters to prevail here.
    No less of a challenge readies us for aspirancy.
    Neither the re-ascension long foretold by your caste.
    
    Call the Hunt.

note: [message]: speaker=Resha Drakes refer to aloe as “tailleaf” and use it medicinally the same way humans use yarrow.
en: Behold the many healing oases which dot this isle.
    Their cleansing waters purge miasma from wounds.
    While the tailleaf growing at their shores makes a fine poultice.
en_GB: Behold the many healing oases which dot this isle.
    Their cleansing waters purge miasma from wounds.
    While the tail-leaf growing at their shores makes a fine poultice.

note: [message]: type=Drake Fighter
en: The waters flowing from the Cenotaph of Kotick have purged the venom from my wound.
    I ask sanction to join your hunt, so I might now purge the dishonor of my folly.
en_GB: The waters flowing from the Cenotaph of Kotick have purged the venom from my wound.
    I ask sanction to join your hunt, so I might now purge the dishonour of my folly.

note: [message]: speaker=Gorlack
en: It was <i>Karron</i> that dishonored herself by not regathering you.
    
    My sanction is given.
en_GB: It was <i>Karron</i> that dishonoured herself by not regathering you.
    
    My sanction is given.

note: [message]: speaker=Karron
en: Gorlack, it is purely for <b>your</b> sakes that I shall do so.
    One final time.
    
    When this isle is behind us, we part again as foes.
    You will taste humiliation at the contention.
    I shall deliver it.
en_GB: Gorlack, it is purely for <b>your</b> sake that I shall do so.
    One final time.
    
    When this isle is behind us, we part again as foes.
    You will taste humiliation at the contention.
    I shall deliver it.

note: [message]: speaker=Resha
en: That is a Teller.
    Perhaps the only beings elder than our Spoken Memories.
    
    In the Time of Beginning, they were great as stormclouds.
    Luminous as the skyfire of the same.
en_GB: That is a Teller.
    Perhaps the only beings elder than our Spoken Memories.
    
    In the Time of Beginning, they were great as storm-clouds.
    Luminous as the sky-fire of the same.

note: [message]: speaker=Resha
en: Before the world grew cold, the Tellers spoke to us our first Memories.
    Some of their wisdom, shared to us.
    Yet now they can only whisper, too softly to be heard.
    
    The final words they spoke aloud...
    
    “ Ward thyselves. The Faerie reached this world. ”
en_GB: Before the world grew cold, the Tellers spoke to us our first Memories.
    Some of their wisdom, shared to us.
    Yet now they can only whisper, too softly to be heard.
    
    The final words they spoke aloud...
    
    “Ward thyselves. The Faerie reached this world.”

note: [part]
en: The treachery of Gorath Ohm was only a brush with the coming war between flights.
    Many eyes watch us that will soon be of rogues.
    They spy frailty...
    
    For even now an infestation of voracious landbound creatures keeps a holdfast on our northernmost isle.
    This isle that was before bountiful with game is now laid bare by these infesters.
en_GB: The treachery of Gorath Ohm was only a brush with the coming war between flights.
    Many eyes watch us that will soon be of rogues.
    They spy frailty...
    
    For even now an infestation of voracious land-bound creatures keeps a hold-fast on our northernmost isle.
    This isle that was before bountiful with game is now laid bare by these infesters.

note: [part]
en: Full encirclement from offshore.
    No escape will be permitted.
    From the circle I shall spy their thinnest line of defense.
    Then strike through it to reach the nighest watchtower.
    From there I rally a force to purge the isle.
    Wherever their defenses thin to feed a counter attack against me, the circle will fall upon.
en_GB: Full encirclement from offshore.
    No escape will be permitted.
    From the circle I shall spy their thinnest line of defence.
    Then strike through it to reach the nighest watchtower.
    From there I rally a force to purge the isle.
    Wherever their defences thin to feed a counter-attack against me, the circle will fall upon.

note: [part]
en: Cornered prey defends its back.
    Encircling is folly.
    Let our prey think they can thwart us.
    
    Two equal wings of drakes.
    First wing strikes southeast watchtower on first dawn.
    The creatures will rally to fall upon it, a mere half force as it is.
    On second dawn, second wing strikes opposite from northwest.
    Where they will find our prey’s back turned to them.
en_GB: Cornered prey defends its back.
    Encircling is folly.
    Let our prey think they can thwart us.
    
    Two equal wings of drakes.
    First wing strikes south-east watchtower on first dawn.
    The creatures will rally to fall upon it, a mere half force as it is.
    On second dawn, second wing strikes opposite from north-west.
    Where they will find our prey’s back turned to them.

note: [part]
en: Wingless.
    Finless.
    These intruders are land bound.
    They can only be from distant land.
en_GB: Wingless.
    Finless.
    These intruders are land-bound.
    They can only be from distant land.

note: [note]
en: Karron’s Wing will attack from the northeast on turn 7
en_GB: Karron’s Wing will attack from the north-east on turn 7

note: [message]: speaker=Resha
en: It seems by our swift approach we have evaded our foe’s notice.
    They have yet to rally a defense.
en_GB: It seems by our swift approach we have evaded our foe’s notice.
    They have yet to rally a defence.

note: [message]: speaker=Gorlack
en: We shall retake the nigh watchtower before they do so.
    From there we rally a defense of our own.
en_GB: We shall retake the nigh watchtower before they do so.
    From there we rally a defence of our own.

note: [message]: speaker=Gorlack
en: Make that your first task, Resha.
    
    Once we have our captive, burn their sea skimmers.
    The landbound prey may then be left for our younger hunters to harvest.
en_GB: Make that your first task, Resha.
    
    Once we have our captive, burn their sea skimmers.
    The land-bound prey may then be left for our younger hunters to harvest.

note: [message]: speaker=unit
en: This firescale is far too cumbersome for armor making...
    
    Clasher glyphs are engraved into it; this firescale must bear Secrets of their caste.
en_GB: This fire-scale is far too cumbersome for armour making...
    
    Clasher glyphs are engraved into it; this fire-scale must bear Secrets of their caste.

note: [message]: speaker=unit
en: It is forbidden for me to speak the Secrets engraved into this firescale.
    
    By the Ways of Morogor, we clashers must keep our Secrets.
en_GB: It is forbidden for me to speak the Secrets engraved into this fire-scale.
    
    By the Ways of Morogor, we clashers must keep our Secrets.

note: [message]: speaker=narrator Here ‘steeped’ means engrossed.
en: ...that a fearsome war between drakes is fast approaching.
    
    Each flight is led by a ‘dominant’ and advised by three ranked intendants. Beneath these are aspirants, whose position is like a princeship except their ascension to dominant is decided by contest. There is also a caste system that cuts across the flights, with four castes—
    
    — Burners are strategic thinkers and show special concern for their fellow drakes. They are natural leaders. But prideful and prone to losing sight of the little things that grow into defeat.
    
    — Clashers are trusted by all to fairly enforce the Ways of Morogor. They guard the drake hatcheries, and also libraries of secret knowledge engraved into ceramic tablets. They keep these secrets not just from us, but from the <i>other castes</i>.
    
    — Fighters are bold. Quick thinking but decisive to the point of shortsightedness. They are our biggest trouble here.
    
    — Gliders have a curious mind steeped in the ‘Spoken Memories’, a kind of oral history unknown to the other castes. As scouts, messengers, and stewards of the hunting grounds, they know Morogor is sinking. But the other castes ignore their warnings.
    
    A young glider, Resha, told me her caste hopes to escape Morogor, and I suspect our arrival here may have encouraged them. Thankfully, Jessene keeps all her navigational charts under lock and key. If she hadn’t, the beating of dragon wings might be heard over Southbay!
    
    Jessene says her people are familiar with these dragons. Their tomes describe such a race of monsters that drove the Wesfolk from the distant west. And the gliders too have stories of drakes living far beyond Morogor. Resha told me a few of these stories, before our parley was broken by another rebellion from the fighter caste.
    
    <i>― Prince Leodren of Southbay,
    
    26th day of the Eastward Oceanic Expedition</i>
en_GB: ...that a fearsome war between drakes is fast approaching.
    
    Each flight is led by a ‘dominant’ and advised by three ranked intendants. Beneath these are aspirants, whose position is like a princeship except their ascension to dominant is decided by contest. There is also a caste system that cuts across the flights, with four castes—
    
    — Burners are strategic thinkers and show special concern for their fellow drakes. They are natural leaders. But prideful and prone to losing sight of the little things that grow into defeat.
    
    — Clashers are trusted by all to fairly enforce the Ways of Morogor. They guard the drake hatcheries, and also libraries of secret knowledge engraved into ceramic tablets. They keep these secrets not just from us, but from the <i>other castes</i>.
    
    — Fighters are bold. Quick thinking but decisive to the point of shortsightedness. They are our biggest trouble here.
    
    — Gliders have a curious mind steeped in the ‘Spoken Memories’, a kind of oral history unknown to the other castes. As scouts, messengers, and stewards of the hunting grounds, they know Morogor is sinking. But the other castes ignore their warnings.
    
    A young glider, Resha, told me her caste hopes to escape Morogor, and I suspect our arrival here may have encouraged them. Thankfully, Jessene keeps all her navigational charts under lock and key. If she hadn’t, the beating of dragon wings might be heard over Southbay!
    
    Jessene says her people are familiar with these dragons. Their tomes describe such a race of monsters that drove the Wesfolk from the distant west. And the gliders too have stories of drakes living far beyond Morogor. Resha told me a few of these stories, before our parley was broken by another rebellion from the fighter caste.
    
    <i>― Prince Leodren of Southbay,
    
    26th day of the Eastwards Oceanic Expedition</i>

note: [message]: speaker=Viragar
en: Release me now and maybe I let some of you live... for future sport of my archers! Hahahaha!
en_GB: Release me now and maybe I let some of you live... for future sport of my archers! Ha ha ha ha!

note: [message]: speaker=Gorlack
en: My captive is slain, Karron!
    You, with your wing of halfwits, have stayed our reascension for an age longer!
en_GB: My captive is slain, Karron!
    You, with your wing of half-wits, have stayed our re-ascension for an age longer!

note: [message]: speaker=Resha
en: Lo! An unknown wing approaches from northwest!
en_GB: Lo! An unknown wing approaches from north-west!

note: [message]: speaker=Koli
en: If my flight were rogue, you would already know it.
    For when the time comes to move against you, we shall first warn of our cold intent.
    As a final honorable act towards you, our fellow drakes...
    
    Then the needs of our hatchlings will demand the taking of your hunting grounds.
en_GB: If my flight were rogue, you would already know it.
    For when the time comes to move against you, we shall first warn of our cold intent.
    As a final honourable act towards you, our fellow drakes...
    
    Then the needs of our hatchlings will demand the taking of your hunting grounds.

note: [part]
en: Savory...
en_GB: Savoury...

note: [args]
en: dialog^Advantage
en_GB: Advantage

note: [part]
en: To make ready for the journey, Gorlack cut loose every possible burden from his flight. The hulking armor of the clasher caste was forsaken. Provisions were halved.
en_GB: To make ready for the journey, Gorlack cut loose every possible burden from his flight. The hulking armour of the clasher caste was forsaken. Provisions were halved.

note: [part]
en: At earliest dawn the Flight of Gorlack lifted skyward...
en_GB: At earliest dawn the Flight of Gorlack lifted skywards...

note: [part]
en: Skimming just above the glassy moonlit ocean, their wingwakes rippling behind...
en_GB: Skimming just above the glassy moonlit ocean, their wing-wakes rippling behind...

note: [message]: speaker=Resha
en: Without dominion over these shoals, we cannot reprovision.
    
    Yet the flight is direly weary from the journey.
    We should avoid conflict.
en_GB: Without dominion over these shoals, we cannot re-provision.
    
    Yet the flight is direly weary from the journey.
    We should avoid conflict.

note: [message]: speaker=Poseira
en: Remain at your post, Nemas, that is an order.
    
    I have something special planned to turn the tides in our favor.
en_GB: Remain at your post, Nemas, that is an order.
    
    I have something special planned to turn the tides in our favour.

note: [message]: speaker=Resha
en: We seek a right to respite here for those of our kind traveling past these isles.
en_GB: We seek a right of respite for those of our kind travelling past these isles.

note: [message]: speaker=Gorlack
en: It is here I shall plant my eyrie.
    
    This will be the threshold through which our folk pass.
    From our long shameful exile adrift on sinking isles.
    Reascended to claim our forgotten birthright of this greater world.
en_GB: It is here I shall plant my eyrie.
    
    This will be the threshold through which our folk pass.
    From our long shameful exile adrift on sinking isles.
    Re-ascended to claim our forgotten birthright of this greater world.

note: [message]: speaker=Resha
en: The haldric creatures have twice before seized an isle of Morogor.
    To have done so, they must possess a nigh drakelike cunning.
    Should they sense defeat approaching...
    
    They may put their settlements to the flame to deny us the stores of provisions therein.
    The arrival of our flight would likely startle such desperate action.
    We would be wise to secure all settlements before then.
en_GB: The haldric creatures have twice before seized an isle of Morogor.
    To have done so, they must possess a nigh drake-like cunning.
    Should they sense defeat approaching...
    
    They may put their settlements to the flame to deny us the stores of provisions therein.
    The arrival of our flight would likely startle such desperate action.
    We would be wise to secure all settlements before then.

note: [message]: speaker=Elyn
en: ...the King did as he needed to, and may the Sky Father favor him for it...
    
    ...the elves would never have granted us sanctuary if he refused to do the deeds they asked of him...
en_GB: ...the King did as he needed to, and may the Sky Father favour him for it...
    
    ...the elves would never have granted us sanctuary if he refused to do the deeds they asked of him...

note: [message]: speaker=Karron
en: You left no prospect of waiting.
    Upon your departure, the rogues began probing the Domain of Vladnir.
    Without your flight there would be not enough of us to hold against them.
    
    Vladnir counseled me here.
    So the youths you bestowed me I traded to other flights,
    for prime drakes able to make the journey.
en_GB: You left no prospect of waiting.
    Upon your departure, the rogues began probing the Domain of Vladnir.
    Without your flight there would be not enough of us to hold against them.
    
    Vladnir counselled me here.
    So the youths you bestowed me I traded to other flights,
    for prime drakes able to make the journey.

note: [message]: speaker=Arinexis
en: Not nonsssenssse! Creatures you sssaw call themssselves ‘humans’. They are lumbering, brutish, odiousss monsssters covered in moissst ssskin of toad. They are hirelings sssummoned from underssside of world by elves of deep, dark Foressst of Wesssmere.
    
    These humans ssslaughtered all but my entire clan! On the ruins of my hatchplace they raised their towering Fort Elenssse. Pray dragons, rain jussst fire down upon these abominations!
en_GB: Not nonsssenssse! Creatures you sssaw call themssselves ‘humans’. They are lumbering, brutish, odiousss monsssters covered in moissst ssskin of toad. They are hirelings sssummoned from underssside of world by elves of deep, dark Foressst of Wesssmere.
    
    These humans ssslaughtered all but my entire clan! On the ruins of my hatch-place they raised their towering Fort Elenssse. Pray dragons, rain jussst fire down upon these abominations!

note: [message]: speaker=Vorlyan Here “wesfolk traveller” is used in the same way as “Irish traveller”, which is a real life culture the wesfolk are likely based on. There is lingering animosity between the islefolk and wesfolk, so he means it in a mildly negative sense.
en: Captain, ride east and order Carcyn Fisher to put his people on the boats and evacuate upriver. Tell that wesfolk traveller if he ignores <i>this</i> order you will evacuate his head from his shoulders.
en_GB: Captain, ride east and order Carcyn Fisher to put his people on the boats and evacuate upriver. Tell that Wesfolk traveller if he ignores <i>this</i> order you will evacuate his head from his shoulders.

note: [message]: speaker=Arinexis
en: Fort Elenssse burns, gone forever! My hatchplace is free and my people can return to live here again. Sssaurian Empire will lassst thirteen millennia more!
en_GB: Fort Elenssse burns, gone forever! My hatch-place is free and my people can return to live here again. Sssaurian Empire will lassst thirteen millennia more!

note: [part]
en: Your first intendant speaks truth, Dominant Gorlack.
    
    By the Honor of my Caste in whole, I hereby Proclaim it so.
en_GB: Your first intendant speaks truth, Dominant Gorlack.
    
    By the Honour of my Caste in whole, I hereby Proclaim it so.

note: [part]
en: We were forbidden to do so.
    Since the Time of Legend, we clashers have been charged with the keeping of secrets —
    
    The meandering way through the underland took by Parapathos in seeking the Council of Nine.
    Makings for the mighty Automata down to their metal hearts that mix fire into water.
    Witwegana’s final words of affection to her mate before delaying Lenvan with a hopeless duel.
    
    The wisdoms, the powers, the stories of our Ancestors.
    
    These were once shared freely among all drakes.
    Until, anguished by our exile, Dominant Morogor forbade their telling.
    Your glider caste alone would not comply.
    By our honor, we did.
    
    Yet our written secrets quietly remained.
en_GB: We were forbidden to do so.
    Since the Time of Legend, we clashers have been charged with the keeping of secrets —
    
    The meandering way through the underland took by Parapathos in seeking the Council of Nine.
    Makings for the mighty Automata down to their metal hearts that mix fire into water.
    Witwegana’s final words of affection to her mate before delaying Lenvan with a hopeless duel.
    
    The wisdoms, the powers, the stories of our Ancestors.
    
    These were once shared freely among all drakes.
    Until, anguished by our exile, Dominant Morogor forbade their telling.
    Your glider caste alone would not comply.
    By our honour, we did.
    
    Yet our written secrets quietly remained.

note: [part]
en: Nay!
    
    We are not merely tossed about by the Winds of Fate.
    We <b>shape</b> them.
    
    We fumble not for a Windpath.
    We make it.
    
    Feel the world as it should be with all the fire of your heart.
    With no room left for <i>fear</i>.
    With all your Willful heart, make that world be!
en_GB: Nay!
    
    We are not merely tossed about by the Winds of Fate.
    We <b>shape</b> them.
    
    We fumble not for a Windpath.
    We make it.
    
    Feel the world as it should be with all the fire of your heart.
    With no room left for <i>fear</i>.
    With all your Wilful heart, make that world be!

note: [part]
en: I Call the Hunt.
    A hunt greater than any before it.
    
    Three flights of hunters.
    
    I already signaled Karron to continue east across the Grassy Flatland.
    Vladnir, you will depart southeast for the Warmsands.
    I shall go northeast into the Wesmere Jungle.
    
    Together we shall provide enough for all of Morogor.
en_GB: I Call the Hunt.
    A hunt greater than any before it.
    
    Three flights of hunters.
    
    I already signalled Karron to continue east across the Grassy Flatland.
    Vladnir, you will depart south-east for the Warmsands.
    I shall go northeast into the Wesmere Jungle.
    
    Together we shall provide enough for all of Morogor.

note: [message]: speaker=Salennea
en: Your beastly sinews and steel tools of death do not impress me, Vonel, for my witful tongue and virtuous conscience are more than protection enough in any case I may find myself.
en_GB: Your beastly sinews and steel tools of death do not impress me, Vonel, for my wit-ful tongue and virtuous conscience are more than protection enough in any case I may find myself.

note: [message]: speaker=Salennea
en: Also, there are some little things I must ask of you...
    
    As I do realize your off-putting rough and scaly skin is largely beyond your control, I ask only that you dress well enough to cover as much of yourselves as you feel comfortable doing. I wish that you take no offense in my asking this favor!
    
    Further, I find your odors somewhat repulsive— Though I shan’t hold this against you! Still, if you would only treble bathe at the start and close of each day, and twice in between, it might do wonders!
    
    Also, regarding your weaponry—
en_GB: Also, there are some little things I must ask of you...
    
    As I do realize your off-putting rough and scaly skin is largely beyond your control, I ask only that you dress well enough to cover as much of yourselves as you feel comfortable doing. I wish that you take no offence in my asking this favour!
    
    Further, I find your odours somewhat repulsive— Though I shan’t hold this against you! Still, if you would only treble bathe at the start and close of each day, and twice in between, it might do wonders!
    
    Also, regarding your weaponry—

note: [message]: speaker=narrator
en: 7th day of Greenleaf
    
    ...the Sapphire of Ice has yet improved even my own talent for the art of scrying. I have discarded my Orb of Pondering in favor of it. Soon I shall peer into the far side of our Faerie World, which that pretender Lady Dionli claims she fears to descry. She simply has not the talent to do so, though she shall never admit it. How I despise that upstart Lady Dionli, that usurper of my rightful place in the Ka’lian, whose only real talent is the art of...
en_GB: 7th day of Greenleaf
    
    ...the Sapphire of Ice has yet improved even my own talent for the art of scrying. I have discarded my Orb of Pondering in favour of it. Soon I shall peer into the far side of our Faerie World, which that pretender Lady Dionli claims she fears to descry. She simply has not the talent to do so, though she shall never admit it. How I despise that upstart Lady Dionli, that usurper of my rightful place in the Ka’lian, whose only real talent is the art of...

note: [message]: speaker=narrator
en: 13th day of Leaffall
    
    ...the Ka’lian is growing suspicious because more of my attendants have gone missing than usual. I must vastly intensify my persona. And for future rituals, I shall need new <i>“guests of honor”</i> which are not of elfkind...
en_GB: 13th day of Leaffall
    
    ...the Ka’lian is growing suspicious because more of my attendants have gone missing than usual. I must vastly intensify my persona. And for future rituals, I shall need new <i>“guests of honour”</i> which are not of elf-kind...

note: [event]
en: Sapphire of Ice^Take it
en_GB: Take it

note: [event]
en: Sapphire of Ice^Leave it
en_GB: Leave it

note: [message]: speaker=Zedrix
en: Ah, that is mossst favored name— ‘Sandfolksss’ —bland, yet no negative connotationsss which sssummon...
en_GB: Ah, that is mossst favoured name— ‘Sandfolksss’ —bland, yet no negative connotationsss which sssummon...

note: [message]: speaker=narrator "Lodestone Mines of Golden Wolf Clan" "Year of Work 368, 7th Month" "Those elves were back in the mushroom farm again, making empty threats to the boys in that fancy language of theirs. Said they would attack if we gather any more wood to feed our mushrooms, it does not e
en: Lodestane Mines of Gyldanwolf Clan
    
    Year of Wirk 368, 7th Month
    
    They elves wur back in the mushroom croft again, making dolly threats tae the laddies in that fancy tongue of thairs. Said thay wid attack if we gather ony mair wood tae feed oor mushrooms, it does nae even maiter if it be juist the pine!
    
    Hud the laddies pat up gates tae keep they elves oot fur now.
    
    If thay dae come back with an airmie we cannae handle, we hae flashpowder kegs aroond the load bearing walls. They elves ur sae impressed with that cute “magic” of thairs— think of the looks oan thair faces whin thay see dwarven kencraft at wirk!
    
    Still, oor woodcutters cannae harvest ony mair mushroom fodder oot of the forest withoot elves chipping away at thaim and the lodestane mines ur nearly tae the end of thair veins.
    
    Mibbie ah shuid trade this cave tae that streenge “Nova” cratur efter all. Whit ever it be ah dae nae care; if the elves ever come back then thay kin deal with it.
en_GB: Lodestane Mines of Gyldanwolf Clan
    
    Year of Wirk 368, 7th Month
    
    They elves wur back in the mushroom croft again, making dolly threats tae the laddies in that fancy tongue of thairs. Said thay wid attack if we gather ony mair wood tae feed oor mushrooms, it does nae even maiter if it be juist the pine!
    
    Hud the laddies pat up gates tae keep they elves oot fur now.
    
    If thay dae come back with an airmie we cannae handle, we hae flash-powder kegs aroond the load bearing walls. They elves ur sae impressed with that cute “magic” of thairs— think of the looks oan thair faces whin thay see dwarven kencraft at wirk!
    
    Still, oor woodcutters cannae harvest ony mair mushroom fodder oot of the forest withoot elves chipping away at thaim and the lodestane mines ur nearly tae the end of thair veins.
    
    Mibbie ah shuid trade this cave tae that streenge “Nova” cratur efter all. Whit ever it be ah dae nae care; if the elves ever come back then thay kin deal with it.

note: [note]
en: It is winter, nighttime is longer
en_GB: It is winter, night-time is longer

note: [message]: speaker=Klanir
en: Dominant Gorlack, I bring ill tidings of the hunt.
    
    The Flight of Karron was decimated by a pack of humans upon the grassy stretches.
    The last word from Dominant Karron spoke of their striving for a retreat to your eyrie.
    In a noble attempt to aid the imperiled Flight of Karron...
    My dominant, Vladnir, fell to our prey.
    
    Our flight was scattered east, deep into the Greatland.
en_GB: Dominant Gorlack, I bring ill tidings of the hunt.
    
    The Flight of Karron was decimated by a pack of humans upon the grassy stretches.
    The last word from Dominant Karron spoke of their striving for a retreat to your eyrie.
    In a noble attempt to aid the imperilled Flight of Karron...
    My dominant, Vladnir, fell to our prey.
    
    Our flight was scattered east, deep into the Greatland.

note: [message]: speaker=Gorlack
en: As a fledgling long ago...
    I strayed far from the Eyrie of Vladnir, lost in dreams of glorious things to be.
    
    From a cave nearby I heard cries.
    My friend Resha had happened upon a dishonored rogue hiding within.
    It sought her death to keep secret its presence there.
    
    It had cornered her.
en_GB: As a fledgling long ago...
    I strayed far from the Eyrie of Vladnir, lost in dreams of glorious things to be.
    
    From a cave nearby I heard cries.
    My friend Resha had happened upon a dishonoured rogue hiding within.
    It sought her death to keep secret its presence there.
    
    It had cornered her.

note: [message]: speaker=Gorlack
en: It is the best you will have.
    We covet the soil as little as you do the clouds.
    We shall find no better neighbors than each other.
en_GB: It is the best you will have.
    We covet the soil as little as you do the clouds.
    We shall find no better neighbours than each other.

note: [message]: speaker=Resha
en: The deep dwellers hewed through my tomb of broken stone to uncover me.
    I was to be their captive in the underworld forever.
    Kept as a curio to frighten their hatchlings from straying to the above.
    
    By your pact with them, I was freed.
en_GB: The deep dwellers hewed through my tomb of broken stone to uncover me.
    I was to be their captive in the underworld for ever.
    Kept as a curio to frighten their hatchlings from straying to the above.
    
    By your pact with them, I was freed.

note: [message]: speaker=Gorlack
en: My measure was wrong.
    I thought we need only escape Morogor to fulfill our reascension from exile.
    Yet we carried something of Morogor with us.
    Its fearlessness.
    
    Like our exiled ancestors, we fly pridefully along the shortest path.
    We cut down any creature we find before us, even one another.
    We become as one of the ancient foes — the Horde, the Jotnar, the Faerie... the Drakes.
    Until we are surprised by defeat just as Dominant Morogor before us.
    Because we shun all fear.
    
    That is why our noble Ancestors exiled us.
    Until we learn to temper our pride with fear we remain the creatures they exiled.
en_GB: My measure was wrong.
    I thought we need only escape Morogor to fulfil our re-ascension from exile.
    Yet we carried something of Morogor with us.
    Its fearlessness.
    
    Like our exiled ancestors, we fly pridefully along the shortest path.
    We cut down any creature we find before us, even one another.
    We become as one of the ancient foes — the Horde, the Jotnar, the Faerie... the Drakes.
    Until we are surprised by defeat just as Dominant Morogor before us.
    Because we shun all fear.
    
    That is why our noble Ancestors exiled us.
    Until we learn to temper our pride with fear we remain the creatures they exiled.

note: [message]: speaker=Karron
en: Enough of this glider folly!
    
    By your honor, Gorlack, you must return to your eyrie, to complete what you began!
en_GB: Enough of this glider folly!
    
    By your honour, Gorlack, you must return to your eyrie, to complete what you began!

note: [message]: speaker=Karron
en: You may embrace your cowardice, Gorlack.
    Hide here in your hovel with it.
    
    Yet your flight will not be dishonored by you.
    They will return with me to rejoin the hunt.
    To aid the salvation of our folk which you have forsaken!
    
    Through the Ways of Morogor, I Proclaim you Deprived.
en_GB: You may embrace your cowardice, Gorlack.
    Hide here in your hovel with it.
    
    Yet your flight will not be dishonoured by you.
    They will return with me to rejoin the hunt.
    To aid the salvation of our folk which you have forsaken!
    
    Through the Ways of Morogor, I Proclaim you Deprived.

note: [message]: speaker=Reks
en: Reks help favorite pet. Reks help green one.
en_GB: Reks help favourite pet. Reks help green one.

note: [message]: speaker=unit
en: This firescale is engraved with a clasher Secret...
    
    Perhaps one of their caste may reveal its meaning.
en_GB: This fire-scale is engraved with a clasher Secret...
    
    Perhaps one of their caste may reveal its meaning.

note: [message]: speaker=narrator
en: ―  The Descent of Parapathos  ―
    
    From the mouth of the cave, Parapathos witnessed the battle take a grim turn. As his wing struggled against the <i>nixes</i>, a living <i>mist</i> descended from the rolling stormclouds above the Crystal Sea. This ethereal creature was just as vast as Lenvan of the <i>casters</i> had warned. The great <i>mist</i> flew right to Dominant Morogor, who stood alone against it, steadfast to duel this creature of the Faerie.
    
    With a chilled heart, Parapathos resumed his quest into the underland, leaving the lives of his friends to the fate of the battle. Never before had he resented the honor–burden of his clasher heritage. If not for it, he could have stayed to fight for them.
    
    Echoes of the battle faded into silence as Parapathos descended through the cave. Sharp crystals jutted from the walls. Then the cave parted into a labyrinth of corridors. The same <i>craftlings</i> Parapathos sought had hewed these corridors before the Faerie creatures drove them down to Irdya’s very heart. Now he was lost in the labyrinth they left behind.
    
    In the distance, Parapathos heard the heavy footfalls of <i>stonekin</i>. He followed them, for days, as they journeyed down to their chamber of contemplation. There they stopped altogether, standing solemnly in a circle around the chamber’s center. It seemed this was the bottom of the world, yet there was no <i>craftling</i> sanctuary to be found here. Perhaps they all had perished as Witwegana feared.
    
    Yet there was a faint sound coming through the crystalline floor. It had the rhythm of <i>craftling</i> toolworks. Indeed their sanctuary had survived; it was right beneath him. Breaking through the floor, an entire realm was revealed below, sheltered within a great geode. Parapathos discarded his armor, unfurled his wings, then dove through the breach.
    
    On his glide down, he saw many wonders lost to our folk since the Time of Legend. This realm was alive with myriad creatures the <i>craftlings</i> fashioned from metal. Its watch places sat not upon towers; they instead hung from great bubbles in midair. Strangest of all, the many torches that gave light to this realm did so without flame. This was indeed the ally our folk needed to turn the war against the Faerie.
    
    ―  64th century of the Time of Turmoil  ―
en_GB: ―  The Descent of Parapathos  ―
    
    From the mouth of the cave, Parapathos witnessed the battle take a grim turn. As his wing struggled against the <i>nixes</i>, a living <i>mist</i> descended from the rolling storm-clouds above the Crystal Sea. This ethereal creature was just as vast as Lenvan of the <i>casters</i> had warned. The great <i>mist</i> flew right to Dominant Morogor, who stood alone against it, steadfast to duel this creature of the Faerie.
    
    With a chilled heart, Parapathos resumed his quest into the underland, leaving the lives of his friends to the fate of the battle. Never before had he resented the honour–burden of his clasher heritage. If not for it, he could have stayed to fight for them.
    
    Echoes of the battle faded into silence as Parapathos descended through the cave. Sharp crystals jutted from the walls. Then the cave parted into a labyrinth of corridors. The same <i>craftlings</i> Parapathos sought had hewed these corridors before the Faerie creatures drove them down to Irdya’s very heart. Now he was lost in the labyrinth they left behind.
    
    In the distance, Parapathos heard the heavy footfalls of <i>stone-kin</i>. He followed them, for days, as they journeyed down to their chamber of contemplation. There they stopped altogether, standing solemnly in a circle around the chamber’s centre. It seemed this was the bottom of the world, yet there was no <i>craftling</i> sanctuary to be found here. Perhaps they all had perished as Witwegana feared.
    
    Yet there was a faint sound coming through the crystalline floor. It had the rhythm of <i>craftling</i> tool-works. Indeed their sanctuary had survived; it was right beneath him. Breaking through the floor, an entire realm was revealed below, sheltered within a great geode. Parapathos discarded his armour, unfurled his wings, then dove through the breach.
    
    On his glide down, he saw many wonders lost to our folk since the Time of Legend. This realm was alive with myriad creatures the <i>craftlings</i> fashioned from metal. Its watch places sat not upon towers; they instead hung from great bubbles in midair. Strangest of all, the many torches that gave light to this realm did so without flame. This was indeed the ally our folk needed to turn the war against the Faerie.
    
    ―  64th century of the Time of Turmoil  ―

note: [message]: speaker=narrator
en: ―  The Contest of the Automata  ―
    
    There was a rumbling in the distance. Puffs of smoke rose from beyond the horizon. Then slowly they appeared, two hulking metal champions.
    
    The drake automaton came first into view, as it was the swifter of the two. It bore a vague likeness to a <i>drakekin</i>, yet wingless, tailless. Below its four legs were rollers in place of feet. It breathed a menacing black smoke as its metal shell gleamed like golden sunlight.
    
    Then the <i>craftling</i> automaton came into view. Like its creators, it was smaller, slower. The rollers that carried it were covered by curious metal feet that turned to meet the ground as it went along. It breathed a fair, nigh cloudlike smoke.
    
    The automata took their places in the arena, facing each other. Their inner toolworks clamored ceaselessly. The call was given to begin the duel.
    
    With a deafening shriek, the drake automaton spat out walls of flame, as it lurched ahead. Even the sand seemed to burn before it, as a dark odious smoke cloaked half the arena. Then the <i>craftling</i> automaton emerged from the thick of the smoke, to the flank of its opponent. With its spin hammer it mangled loose a roller from its victim. Despite this, the drake automaton managed to come about, then struck back with its battering ram to crush its foe’s wielder chamber, along with the poor <i>craftlings</i> inside.
    
    It seemed a fateful blow. Until the <i>craftling’s</i> automaton rolled back, took aim with its fire staff, then shot loose the flame spitter from the drake’s. As their automaton caught fire, the clasher wielders emerged from within its wreckage. They went to the <i>craftling</i> automaton to honor their victorious opponents. Yet no <i>craftlings</i> emerged from it to receive their praise. Neither to gloat as <i>craftlings</i> often do.
    
    A <i>craftling</i> runesmith strode onto the arena, laughing as he went. He told the bewildered clashers there was no one within his automaton, no one wielding its inner workings. By his glyph–making he had granted this thing a Will of its own. Turning again to the automaton, the clashers gave it a humble nod.
    
    ―  31st century of the Time of Legend  ―
en_GB: ―  The Contest of the Automata  ―
    
    There was a rumbling in the distance. Puffs of smoke rose from beyond the horizon. Then slowly they appeared, two hulking metal champions.
    
    The drake automaton came first into view, as it was the swifter of the two. It bore a vague likeness to a <i>drake-kin</i>, yet wingless, tailless. Below its four legs were rollers in place of feet. It breathed a menacing black smoke as its metal shell gleamed like golden sunlight.
    
    Then the <i>craftling</i> automaton came into view. Like its creators, it was smaller, slower. The rollers that carried it were covered by curious metal feet that turned to meet the ground as it went along. It breathed a fair, nigh cloud-like smoke.
    
    The automata took their places in the arena, facing each other. Their inner tool-works clamoured ceaselessly. The call was given to begin the duel.
    
    With a deafening shriek, the drake automaton spat out walls of flame, as it lurched ahead. Even the sand seemed to burn before it, as a dark odious smoke cloaked half the arena. Then the <i>craftling</i> automaton emerged from the thick of the smoke, to the flank of its opponent. With its spin hammer it mangled loose a roller from its victim. Despite this, the drake automaton managed to come about, then struck back with its battering ram to crush its foe’s wielder chamber, along with the poor <i>craftlings</i> inside.
    
    It seemed a fateful blow. Until the <i>craftling’s</i> automaton rolled back, took aim with its fire staff, then shot loose the flame spitter from the drake’s. As their automaton caught fire, the clasher wielders emerged from within its wreckage. They went to the <i>craftling</i> automaton to honour their victorious opponents. Yet no <i>craftlings</i> emerged from it to receive their praise. Neither to gloat as <i>craftlings</i> often do.
    
    A <i>craftling</i> runesmith strode onto the arena, laughing as he went. He told the bewildered clashers there was no one within his automaton, no one wielding its inner workings. By his glyph–making he had granted this thing a Will of its own. Turning again to the automaton, the clashers gave it a humble nod.
    
    ―  31st century of the Time of Legend  ―

note: [message]: speaker=Gorlack
en: By this Windpath alone shall we reascend to dominate the world once again.
en_GB: By this Windpath alone shall we re-ascend to dominate the world once again.

note: [unit_type]: id=Caravel, race=mechanical
en: The sturdy and reliable caravel is the mainstay of human oceanic exploration, shipping and projection of influence. More seaworthy than lighter vessels, one might yet be spied navigating deeper rivers, where the maneuverabilty and shallow draft somewhat compensate for the tonnage of the vessel.
    
    While its modest speed compared to the vessels of other races makes evasion difficult, its tall fore and aft castles hold a powerful arsenal of ballistae to fend against pirate and sea monster alike.
    
    The caravel can dock at coastal villages, though this makes it entirely vulnerable.
en_GB: The sturdy and reliable caravel is the mainstay of human oceanic exploration, shipping and projection of influence. More seaworthy than lighter vessels, one might yet be spied navigating deeper rivers, where the manoeuvrability and shallow draft somewhat compensate for the tonnage of the vessel.
    
    While its modest speed compared to the vessels of other races makes evasion difficult, its tall fore and aft castles hold a powerful arsenal of ballistae to fend against pirate and sea monster alike.
    
    The caravel can dock at coastal villages, though this makes it entirely vulnerable.
