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WoF: Spelling corrections

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Wedge009 2022-09-11 12:37:40 +10:00
parent 40d93a7931
commit 40ab9a38b8
3 changed files with 5 additions and 5 deletions
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2
data/campaigns/Winds_of_Fate/scenarios/02_Reclamation.cfg
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@ -328,7 +328,7 @@ The landbound prey may then be left for our younger hunters to harvest."
image_pos=right
mirror=yes
#po: By ‘wyrms’ he is referring to the drakes in a belittling way.
message= _ "These vomitting wyrms again!? I HATE THEM!!!"
message= _ "These vomiting wyrms again!? I HATE THEM!!!"
[/message]
[/event]

2
data/campaigns/Winds_of_Fate/scenarios/07_Harvest.cfg
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@ -500,7 +500,7 @@ My diary is very personal, Vonel!"
[/filter]
[message]
speaker=narrator
message= _ "This tree has been debarked by repeated scratching from animals of somekind. It smells strongly of a fig tree yet it is clearly an oak."
message= _ "This tree has been debarked by repeated scratching from animals of some kind. It smells strongly of a fig tree yet it is clearly an oak."
[/message]
[/event]

6
data/campaigns/Winds_of_Fate/scenarios/11_Crosswind.cfg
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@ -547,9 +547,9 @@ From the mouth of the cave, Parapathos witnessed the battle take a grim turn. As
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 labrynth 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 labrynth they left behind.
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> santuary to be found here. Perhaps they all had perished as Witwegana feared.
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.
@ -600,7 +600,7 @@ The automata took their places in the arena, facing each other. Their inner tool
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> automoton 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.
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.