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Some news from the documents we found. But first, a brief historical excursion.

Once upon a time there lived a historical character named Areg. He was a dragar and a famous researcher of magic, but very controversial: some describe him as completely white, others - as coal black. Everyone says that he died a lot of years ago (more than twelve thousand), but in the fourth century there is evidence of his appearance over the coastal territories of the Glinar elves. Or rather, how they look like this: a huge white spot flew over Eleria, froze over the sea and said the following phrase: "These are my children, in whom is my blessing."And then just

exploded.

Adequate Draghars don't usually do that, as far as I understand, but judging by the information we have about Areg, he was quite eccentric.

And now directly to the news. Somewhere in the posts earlier I mentioned that we found correspondence between two people in classical Glinnar. And here is a quote (a man writes to a woman):

“Areg told you that you can use even your memory for both evil and good.”

So, it turns out that Areg really was alive at that time and really communicated with someone. Question: why didn't we know about this before?

As always, we will keep you updated.

Let's go to the next part of stereotypes. Now Berenice is sitting behind me and watching carefully so that I don't accidentally write something wrong. This part, as you may have already guessed, is about dwarves.

1. Doors are hoarders.
   Yes, that's true. Let's move on to the next point.
2. Dwarves do not have topographical cretinism.
   This is almost true. Dwarves - especially those born and living underground - have a kind of built-in biological compass, by which they can determine the cardinal directions. In fact, this feature is not quite innate, but largely trained from childhood, but nevertheless. It will be quite difficult to confuse a Dwarve in a strange city, in short.
3. Dverg women have hairy chests.
   But that's not true at all. Only a beard and moustache on the face, and even then, the more time goes by, the more women shave them off completely. Can you imagine what it's like to kiss a girl with stubble?
4. Dvergs are loyal friends.
   I would say that's an understatement. It's hard to befriend a dwarf, but if you do, he'll literally put himself in front of bullets for you.
5. The Dvergs love everything connected with the army, and are especially fanatical about technology.
   Yes and no. This mostly concerns the highly militarized Harassukhum dwarves, and even then this trend has been on the wane in the last ten years. But regardless of the army, yes, they simply adore technology.

Gōwēnd kū abēr tēz nāxunān ī ōy ast,
Tarsēnd kū wuzurg, pašmīg payān ī ōy ast.
Bē-t čē rāy nigāh kardan pad rōy-š nē kāmēd?
Wāžam kū starān pad syāhagān ī ōy ast.

Here the meter is as follows: / / / U / / / U / / / / (/ is a long syllable, U is a short one). There is no violation in the third line: pad rōy-š is pronounced with the following division into syllables: pa-drōyš — this is also found in modern poetry.

Literal translation:

They say his claws are too sharp,
They are afraid that his legs are too big and hairy.
But why don't you want to look him in the face?
The river that has stars in its pupils.

Again, a slightly crazy poetic translation:

They tell me: his fang is dangerous,
They are afraid: his hand is completely covered in fur.
But it’s a pity that they don’t want to look at his face -
I said to him: I saw a star in his pupils.

This one is not as ironic as the previous one, but it is also very cute.

Courtesy of our good friend Noid (he's watching me type this right now), we present to you five of the most popular stereotypes about elves.

1. Elves are immortal.
   Not true. Technically and biologically, they can live, perhaps, an indefinite number of years, but over time, cognitive functions begin to degrade - like a hard drive from the beginning of the century that has not been defragmented for a long time. Therefore, when elves feel that dementia is creeping up, they usually leave this life voluntarily. No, this is not suicide - they simply lie down in bed and fall into eternal sleep. The longest-living person in history was just under ten thousand years old.
2. Alvs are vegetarians.
   Not true. Biologically, elves need even more animal protein than humans do - but overall it turns out that they eat less meat. For two reasons:
   — today, people consume more animal protein than they should;
   - Many elves strongly disapprove of human industrial animal husbandry, so they often engage in it themselves.
3. The elves are as beautiful as angels.
   Doubtful. It would be more accurate to say that they have a very specific appearance: they are very tall, often skinny and sinewy rather than muscular; add to all this huge slanted eyes and crazy protruding cheekbones. Some people like them, some don't.
4. The elves are wise, serious, rarely smile and grieve over the imperfections of the world.
   Also nonsense. Glinnar elves usually call such otherworldly individuals "divine" with slight disdain, because this is most often a feigned attempt to demonstrate their importance and wisdom in life. Normal people usually don't have time for this - within 24 hours they need to finish packing a wardrobe, write a poem, take a couple of Old English lessons, start studying category theory and go for a bike ride with friends.
5. Elves rarely say what they think.
   And this is absolutely true. Long years of life teach you to be careful in choosing your words and friends, and make you acquire the annoying habit of giving ambiguous answers even to an offer to drink coffee. If you do not understand what the elf has answered you, tell him so directly: if he sees that you are interested with good intentions, he will certainly open up a little more.

There was no post yesterday because I discovered this thing called artbreeder.com and was stuck there for about four hours. Sorry.

And now let's get back to our sheep. Everything is as usual: a piece of Lodrast, with Pre-Rechan phrases written on it in Glinnar script. And with pictures too!

It all starts with the sentence "znatsi Virꙗza ꙗko im orztolkovani", that is "the signs of Viryaz as [they were] explained to him" And then a list of these very signs with explanations (we translated them).

1. "Third-stage doctor" (remember the previous post). The three extra stripes at the bottom show this third stage. Applied to the head and nose.
2. "Insight" under the right eye. Nothing else is written, but this sign was given, supposedly, for success in learning.

3, 4. Signs showing the month of birth (on the right and left hand) - in this case, fierce.

5. "Invention" on the right chest. Also not explained, but we suspect that this Viryaz came up with something like that.
6. A personal mark applied by a priest after birth while reading a special prayer. It is clear where.
7. "Tribal sign" on the right side. Its exact origin is not entirely clear, and screw it.
8. "Persistence/inflexibility" on the same side. Such a sign was given to very principled and stubborn jearts =D

Further on the sheet is torn off - there is probably a continuation, but we haven't found it yet. Let's look!

While Berenice does not hear me and sits with her back to me, I will quickly tell you how we met.

In the seventh grade, I left my old school and went to an extra-fashionable lyceum, which was located right next to my house. In the class where I ended up, the guys were generally very nice and friendly, but it was quite natural that I immediately began to communicate with the Gearts (there were two guys there), but Berenike was not so lucky - she was the only Dverg we had.

As a creature similar to a bald dog, they tried to bully me not very aggressively, but by that age I already knew a lot of offensive jokes about mothers and responded with them - besides, my friends Arim and Zehar perfectly mastered the art of growling low and It’s unkind to look from under your brows.

Berenice, when we all more or less got to know each other and got comfortable, also began to be bullied - because of the beard that was just beginning to grow on her. She didn’t particularly react to the jokes, and the boys and I didn’t interfere either - until the very moment when she was squeezed in the school yard in the winter by a flock of guys from a parallel class. I didn’t even understand what happened then: one of them tried to pull her by the hair on her face, and then immediately found herself upside down in a huge snowdrift. The rest immediately fled, and Arim, Zehar, and I, impressed by her Dvergian kung fu, offered to join our company. Berenice happily agreed.

After school we were scattered all over the place. Berry went to Recinia, where she had some relatives, I stayed in Recan. Arim moved to his historical homeland, Eryakhshar, and Zehar is slowly finishing his master's degree in Germany. A little sad, but natural.

I call Berenice here - in case she remembers something else from her school days =D

I'm too lazy to write anything serious, so here are some very everyday news.

Berenice was taken into consideration as the only person here who was well versed in magic, and now she is simply running around like a squirrel in a wheel, assisting first one, then another, and sometimes all at once. That is why she does not write anything - she has no time for it.

I, on the contrary, spend more and more time sitting at the table and at the computer - on the first I have copies of texts and inscriptions, and on the second - the blog that I am currently running. Sometimes there is a desire to dig in the earth, but I immediately satisfy it with a sandwich with sausage.

A mole has taken up residence on the property where we live. The dog has dug up the entire lawn with the obvious desire to make it look like a chessboard. It doesn't want to be caught in traps - it goes around them. I have a feeling that if it doesn't calm down, I'll make a gas chamber for it right in its hole from a car exhaust.

On this positive note I will end. To all who are not sleeping - good night!

Now there will be a sudden post about... my last name.

In my passport it is written as Ашасоззьа, and in my thoughts I have to go and change its spelling to something like Ашасъоззьа. In Roman orthography it will look like Ašaţ'ōḑḑy'ah; yes, I agree, it’s better not to try to transcribe it at all, but that’s not my fault.

Now I'll explain why it's needed at all and what it means. My great-great (great?) grandfather migrated to Retsinia from the New World; why - the devil knows. My last name came with him, and if translated very roughly, it means something like "sun, the blackest of stars." I used to think that this story would plunge girls into a state of indescribable delight, but most of them usually just look at me strangely. And some - who know a little about the history of Aznatanian jewels in general - sometimes even start to avoid me.

The thing is, to put it bluntly, that almost all Aznatan Jeart tribes… ate people. In the absolutely literal physical sense. And at first, they hunted them, just like the predators from the movie of the same name. What is characteristic, but not very explainable - not the elves or dwarves, but specifically people.

It is clear that people were not their main diet, since the prey is not the easiest and most accommodating. But all sorts of initiation rites, holidays and similar things almost always had a successful hunt for humans as an integral element - sometimes it all ended with the slaughter of even entire tribes. It is due to this, among other things, that it was not possible to colonize the central territories of Aznata for so long - there were the most Jearts there. Even now there are tribes there, in which the great-grandfathers of the last living generation did not disdain to taste human flesh.

I think there is no need to explain how the local people treated the Jearts, even those who had nothing to do with this whole man-eating movement. That is probably why that distant relative emigrated. And even now the Jearts from Aznata are slowly flocking to Orova: here no one has ever eaten people, but rather the opposite.

This is such a sad story with a not very happy ending.