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JetKinen

A blog in which JetKinen tries very poorly to translate a brazilian book: Inimigo do Mundo - Book 1, Chapter 2

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Chapter II


The Bridge

There was a beautiful plain surrounded by a forest and a river with a bridge crossing it. The sun was getting ready to disappear for the day and so the sky had an orange hue. The green turf was darkening while the sky darkened[alongside the sky] and for a while that was a nice and lovely place. But maybe soon it would stop existing. Many things in that world would soon stop existing.

Collen was an island; a nice and quiet one; a nice, quiet and weird one. Everyone born in Collen had exotic eyes of disparate colors. Many times they were yellow, red, purplish, completely black or with cat-looking pupils. Thats what made them different, that and nothing more. There were no wars in Collen, almost no heroes in it, and no battles and tragic stories to be told. Collen was an island in the world of Arton, isolated, by the sea and peace from the whirlwind of events from the mainland


That's why it was clear that the seven people that crossed the plain were all strangers. They carried weapons, armors and a lot of paraphernalia; winter blankets, knifes, arrows, traveling boots, amulets, sheaths embroidered with gold thread. While none of them had exotic eyes they would be a remarkable group anywhere they went


There was a big creature with horns and rotund muscles. Maybe he was a monster to the eyes of one who saw him from afar but by his comrades he was seen as a man, a valorous man. Almost a sage. There was a woman so small and harmless that one would thought she was a child. Her companions, occasionally, called her “kid” and she would never get angry at them. She had pointed ears like leaves, but wasn’t an elf: Who knew these creatures could see that she had human blood mixed in her veins


There were two men; one, a little more than just a teenager, and the other easily the oldest of their group. The boy looked like like a peasant, with simple clothes hidden under a heavy cape brown from the leather. The older one, unlike the younger, had some flair when it comes to his clothes wearing an almost black dark blue robe with long crimson red fabric.But in the name of practicality his boots were heavy and solid, perfect for long walks, and the sheath of his robes were tied to his legs saving it from most of the mud. He was a little bald, his forehead stretching devouring his dark hair. Thanks to his small stature and his slighty round stomach he struggled while carrying something heavy wrapped in white cloths alongside the younger man.


There was a woman that walked in front of the group, sometimes stopping, running diagonally, squinting hard searching for troubles that no one else could see. Her blonde hair tied in two thick braids alongside her white skin, getting red from the sun denounced her as a native from the cold lands. She wore only the sufficient number of clothes to cover what shame required. It was clear that even in that warm afternoon she was struggling with the heat.


Just behind her a woman and man, both young walked without a care. They carried more far more weapons than any other from the group. swords, bows and quivers filled with arrows could be seen hanging from their clothes, waists and bags. Like a couple made of simple folk, they were holding hands without the shame, discretion and the sophistication of the court


They were strangers to that land, but they weren’t lost. With a small exchange of words the couple stopped.


- Andilla - said the young man - Where are we? How far?

Andilla Dente-de-Ferro¹, who was leading the group, scanned one more time, squinting her eyes against the darkness that was falling and returned to her comrades. Now all the group had stopped

- That is Coraan - she said, pointing to the river in front of them - One more day after we cross it.

- Any danger? Something that we should fear? - said this time the young woman, holding the hand of her partner. She was beautiful like a wolf

Andilla laughed

- You are getting cautious with age Ellisa - All the group shared her laugh, with the exception of the half-elf girl - We’re in Collen, what is the worst thing that could happen? The countrymen looking angry at us?

Once more laughter roared from the group. The two that carried the weight used this break to put it on the floor and rest their arms. Whatever was their carried under the white cloth(now dirty) was something big like a carpet; heavy and cumbersome. The boy sat on the floor opened his flask and had a drink. The older man dusted the dust from his clothes. Like they all had previously agreed to it, the group focused their attention to the half-elf.

- Everything is alright Nichaela? - the voice of the horned creature sounded like a warhorn. It had the impression that you could hear it from the land of the gods - Do you need something little sister?

The half-elf smiled upwards, to the the bestial face of her friend. It was very hard to decipher the minotaur’s expressions, but the familiarity taught Nichaela that was genuine concern. She hastened to say that she was alright and that the journey should go on

- But thank you, Artorius - and once more she brightened the surroundings with her smile

- Very well - roared the one who seemed to be the leader, taking hold from the hand of the friend again - Let's stop lazing around! Let's move on.

At once all the group stood in a quick march. Andilla running in front of the group searching for trouble. The boy, moved away his long hair from covering his eyes, took a hold of one of the extremities of the weight while he waited his partner to take a hold of the other one

- It’s not fair, don’t you think Rufus? - said the boy laughing - Nobody asks me: “Ashlen is everything alright? Do you want something? A foot massage or some tea?” - Started to laugh again but his friend didn’t follow him. He looked too busy trying to breathe

- She is a cleric, deserves respect, devotion, care - said Rufus Domat, without managing to hide a sting of bitterness on his voice - Even when you’re a minotaur cleric, apparently you’re too good to carry some weight. Even when you’re a follower from the God of Strength!

Ashlen moved away his hair again that was still blocking his vision and looked with confusion to his friend

- And don’t give me this talk of “Foot massage or some tea” - Rufus attempted some humor - It would be better to offer you some saloon girl or some wine - He didn’t succeed it. Maybe he was getting too old. Maybe he was getting too old for all of this

Ashlen kept his silence. Rufus followed his example and tried to kept his eyes on the road. But his eyes were more focused on his comrades that traveled on front of him and that were getting further away as he was getting more tired.

The couple, Vallen Allond and Ellisa Thorn, stood out, even in the presence of the minotaur, the half-elf and the rest of the group. Vallen with his blonde rebel hair, exuded a confidence that would make him the natural leader of the group. Ellisa was beautiful and fierce; his perfect pair. They always knew what to do thought Rufus. Always strong, capable and precise. All much more young but even then he followed them. Worst: Rufus knew this was right. He knew, and time proved it many times that Vallen decisions were almost every single time right and under his leadership the group flourished and triumphed. All had hopes on writing their names on the history of Arton, trusting on Vallen to lead them to the songs of the bards This mission was just another example


Rufus thought in leaving that leadership, that group - Living a peaceful life in Collen? - But he remembered of his old life before Vallen Allond and knew he had to continue.

They saw the bridge over the Coraan. It was narrow and modest like everything in Collen. It was almost completely dark

- Let’s stop and fill our canteens - said Vallen, and like he was some general, everyone followed his instructions without hesitation - Just some minutes and we’re off

Artorius filled Nichaela’s canteen over her protests. Andilla tried to hear something over the other side of the river. Ashlen talked about something with Vallen and Ellisa Thorn approached Rufus

He had his canteen full, but pretended to fill it again


- Its getting dark, it's time for beasts - said Ellisa. For anyone else her voice was like a war cry. But for Rufus it was music from a harp - Despite what Andilla said care is never too much. Conjure something for her, if something decides to attack us

Rufus stumbled a little with the canteen and actually dropped it losing all the water. He sighed and started to fill it again.

- I don’t have any more protection - he told - I used what i had on me by morning

He should use some omen then, said Ellisa, stop know if we are going to face some trouble

-I don’t have any Divination spell - said Rufus again like a sheep - All i have are battle spells

- What the hell, Rufus Domat! - Ellisa kicked a stone - What kind of wizard are you?

He stumbled on his words, feeling his dry throat

- It’s not something so simple. Magic isn’t a tool. You need to respect it, understand that is subtle and mysterious.

- Wrong - Ellisa sharp like an arrow - Your magic is a tool, it’s what makes you useful in this group. If it is so mysterious and subtle to the point of being useless then give up on her and learn to swing a sword

Rufus mopped. He learned a long time ago to respect the magic, to stop using it uselessly and to worship Wynna, the goddess of it

- Did you not see us carrying just weapons, without any other equipment? Then why do you carry only battle spells?

Although, nowadays, Rufus worshipped Ellisa Thorn more than anything else.

- Sorry. I just thought that if we should face trouble they could be useful

- Think better next time. We all can bleed enemies. Study spells that can do what we can’t do

She turned away and went to speak with Nichaela and Artorius. Maybe one of those two could preach to their gods for them to give the protection that the wizard couldn’t give
Maybe he would find a girl here in Collen, thought Rufus. A girl or a woman of his age it didn’t have to be as pretty he wouldn’t be picky. Even when he thought on this he knew this was just a lie.

Under Vallen’s order they all got up and started to cross the bridge though they soon stopped when from the other side came a warrior

Vallen walked to the front of the group and started to walk slowly trying to analyze the man. His hands were ready to jump at his swords that he carried on his waist. The warrior also walked slowly trying to scan the group in the dark.


When he got close to him, Vallen stopped when he was uncertain on what to do. Ahead of him there was a warrior, but a warrior different from any other person he ever saw before. His well-crafted armour covered his chest and shoulders and had a the drawing of a tiger in between the chest and the abdomen. The rest of his clothes were equally refined colored red and green, strong colors. The warrior had black hair tied in a bun on the top of his head and his skin was yellow. His eyes were small and slanted giving him some type of foreigner ferocity. He also carried two swords, one very short and one long, but both were slender and curved. The warrior held the hilt of the long one with one of his hands while the other went to the sheath of the same sword. He made no move to touch the short blade


Seeing the gesture, Vallen crossed his arms in the front of his body, every hand holding the hilt of a sword. His blades were also of different sizes, but both were thick and straight and different from the other man, he was not ashamed of using both of them


- Who are you? - asked Vallen

- Only a barbarian asks said question without introducing himself first - was the answer

The group stayed tense behind Vallen. Ellisa already had her bow on her hands while Andilla had wielded her ax.

- Who are you - repeated Vallen more sharply

The warrior opened his mouth to answer him, but Ashlen interrupted him

- He is Tamurian

All the eyes turned to Ashlen but quickly some turned back to observe the foreign warrior

- He is from Tamu-Ra - repeated Ashlen, calm, didactic - It’s a island, you know. Everyone there has his features. For a tamurian he can speak very well our language - added

The explanation did not work as mean to ease the tension of the group. Vallen still held his swords, Ellisa still had an arrow ready to fly

- By the looks of it, he is a samurai - continued Ashlen - A caste of warriors. They follow the Emperor and the god Lin-Wu

Some looked at Ashlen with surprise including the stranger

- I’m Ashlen Ironsmith - He said to the man

The foreigner looked more satisfied with these words
- I’m Masato Kondai, Imperial Executor.

But he soon completed:

- Now come back from the way you came from so i can cross it

All knew what was going to happen, and Nichaela even tried to stop this from happening, but the voice of her leader roared louder.

- I think it is wise for you to retreat, Masato Kodai. We will not go back for you.

There was a thick silence.

- Understand that my position in my land is more privileged and superior than yours - Masato stayed still, his tiny eyes indecipherable - And so are my weapons. It is your duty to retreat.

- You’re not in your land - growled Vallen - I will not retreat from anyone.

Everyone in the group knew the pride of Vallen Allond. It was part of the reason Artorius, a minotaur and priest of Tauron, the God of Strength, followed him. It was part of the reason Ellisha Thorn loved him. It was part of the reason that Nichaela, priest of Lena, the Goddess of Life, thought it was her duty to follow him. It was part of the reason Rufus feared him.

- So we should let our weapons decide for us, foe.

Masato Kondai drew his sword, polished and gleaming like no other they had ever seen and Vallen Allond also drew his blades that were even more impressive. The long sword, withdrawn for her sheath, roared with small flames that ran in rows covering the blade. The small sword freezed the air and covered itself with a thin layer of white frost, producing more ice as the flakes fell like tiny snow throughout its length. Inverno and Inferno², that’s how Vallen called it, and all of his enemies learned to respect them, sometimes a little too late.

The Samurai controlled his admiration when he saw his weapons. He put himself into a fighting stance, still, like a steel statue


- You will not stop me from getting to Horeen

Vallen, still holding his swords, smiled. But it was from Ashlen that the laugh came

- Horeen is in the other side - He told him - We’re going there

The samurai was confused.

The load, that Ashlen and Rufus had put on the floor, started to move. Masato looked confused, until a body wrapped in the white cloths was revealed. The body took the cloths from his face and started to get up with difficulty, being helped by Nichaela. It was a man, of long and smooth brown hair and a moustache that transformed into a small beard that covered only his chin. Maybe twenty and something years old. Pale as a dead body.


- Looks like i was going to miss the fun once again - said the man with a rictus smile. Masato saw that in his naked torso were countless scars, so many that he must really have been a dead body

- Do you carry your injured comrades like this? - cried Masato Kodai, again preparing his sword - Or is this a prisoner, barbarians?

- Oh, i wasn’t hurt - said the man still getting up - I was dead. My name is Gregor Vahn. I’m a Paladin of Thyatis. And this is the best way to carry a dead body don’t you think?

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They decided to travel together until the city of Horeen. Masato and Vallen were not completely satisfied with each other presence, but adventurers are quick to learn to put up with strange people

- So we are nine - said Ashlen - somehow, this seems like a good number.

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Translator's Notes
1 - I'm choosing to leave most names as it is, without translating them. For example Andilla's surname "Dente-de-Ferro" could be translated as "Iron-Teeth". I'm choosing to leave them be, because there are silly stuff that i'm unable to translate into english, and some races(more specifically the Dwarves) use english in their surnames. So with this free usage of english and portuguese to create "cool names" i'll just let the names be and make a translator note whenever there is something that could've been translated to english, but i decided to let it be.
2 - Case in point: Vallen's swords "Inferno" and "Inverno", are basically a dumb rhyme. "Inferno", the fire sword, means "Hell" while "Inverno", the ice sword, means "Winter". I could've just translate them as that: Hell and Winter. But then its missing the silly rhyme that was obviously thought up during this creation of this novel.

I'll post this image once again because they showcase the group we just met. They're going to be the main protagonists of the novel, so get used to them

From left to right:Ashlen, Andilla, Gregor, Masato, Nichaela, Artorius, Vallen, Ellisa, Rufus

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Updated March 3rd, 2016 at 11:48 AM by JetKinen

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