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Dec 15, 2022 (posted viaProZ.com): I am localizing a video game of an indie developer. It is nice when you have to deal with neutral dilemas in Spanish. Time for being creative....more »
Spanish to English - Rates: 0.05 - 0.10 USD per word / 15 - 25 USD per hour Portuguese to English - Rates: 0.05 - 0.10 USD per word / 15 - 25 USD per hour
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English to Spanish: Angel of Sky General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Poetry & Literature
Source text - English Prologue
Drummond Castle, October 1502
His ice-blue eyes locked on the castle looming in the gathering dusk.
Silent as death, he and his company of killers climbed the ridge toward the open drawbridge. Andrew would get back what was his. He would have his revenge.
Fiona bounced across the wood floor at the sound of horses thundering across the drawbridge. Standing on her tiptoes, she stretched her five year old body, inching her dimpled chin up onto the stone ledge surrounding the small window in her effort to peer out into the dusky light at the approaching riders. From the unglazed slit in the castle wall, the misty autumn wind swept damply through her fire red hair. She could not see the riders, but she could hear their steel armor clanging as they rode into the castle’s inner yard.
Her Father was coming for her.
“May I please go down, Nanna?” she asked for the umpteenth time. “Please, Nanna?”
“You know what your mama said, child,” the old woman responded, smiling at the irrepressible excitement of the little girl. This was a big day for her. This was a big day for them all.
Fiona skipped from the window and picked up her little stool from beside the fireplace, carrying it quickly to the high window and scampering onto it. As she pressed her face into the opening, a gust of Scottish night air filled her with a thrill of anticipation.
But her mother had given strict orders that she was to remain in her room until she was called for.
He must be very important, the little girl thought excitedly, trying to pick him out from among the horsemen in the courtyard. In the flaring torchlight she could see the varied array of tartans on the company of men dismounting below.
Though Fiona could not even recall when exactly she had last seen her father, she tried hard to remember, as her eyes scanned the sea of men below, what he looked like. She had been very little the last time. But there were things about him that she could still recollect, vaguely. His deep and easy laugh. His soft red beard. The strange, belt-like chain that she could feel under his shirt. Her mother had told Fiona that her father always wore that, but she had never said why.
“Your papa is a busy man, Fiona,” her mother had said the times she’d asked for him. All her life Fiona had been hearing talk of fights with the filthy English who were trying to take Scottish lands. And all her life she’d been hearing her mother tell her how papa had to help. How it was his job to help keep their homes and their country safe.
But now he was coming to them--making a special visit--to take her and her mother and Nanna back to his own castle. To be with him.
For the past week Fiona had been shadowing Nanna as she went about her chores. The little girl had tried extra hard to be more of a help than a hindrance. After all, she had so many questions about the upcoming visit, and Nanna was the only one who would even talk to her about it.
Fiona wished she could remember more.
For as long as the little girl could recall, no one would ever talk to her about her father. There were moments when her mother would allow Fiona a glimpse of those times when he had been near. And it was during those talks that Fiona would hear about his humor, his courage, about the kind of man he was. But then her mother would never answer her other questions about him, so he remained an enigma.
Sometimes Fiona wondered if her father still loved her. She wondered if he missed her as much as she missed him. Sometimes she even dreamed of him. When she did, he was like an angel, floating far above—away from her—but watching over her. She could see him, his red hair and beard streaming around him as if blown by a gentle breeze.
And now everyone kept telling Fiona not to disturb her mother.
The little girl knew that her mother was not her usual self. She had been very quiet for the past few days and spent many hours alone in her room. Fiona heard her crying. Nanna said that her mother was just having a hard time believing that what she had wished for, for so long, was finally coming true. But Fiona knew it had to be something else.
During their time together Nanna had told her that, for reasons beyond their control, Fiona’s parents could not be married up until now, but that their love had finally triumphed.
At last, her father had told his people that Fiona was his daughter, and that he and her mother were going to be married. Fiona was not really sure what being married meant, but she knew it had to be something very special. After all, she was going to have a permanent father now. But even more importantly, she knew that it meant her mother would never have to be sad again. Nanna had told her that.
Fiona began to count the torches that were being lit in the courtyard. She knew her father would have warriors with him. Nanna had said Fiona’s father had many who attended him.
“Fiona, come here so I can braid that wild hair of yours,” Nanna scolded gently, smiling patiently at the excited child. The room was warm and comfortable, and the old woman felt at peace with the world.
Translation - Spanish Prólogo
Castillo de Drummond, octubre de 1502
Sus ojos color azul hielo se fijaron en el castillo que se alzaba en la creciente oscuridad. Silencioso como la muerte, él y su compañía de asesinos subieron la cresta hacia el puente levadizo que se encontraba abierto. Andrew recuperaría lo que era suyo. Él tendría su venganza.
Fiona brincó del suelo de madera al oír el ruido de los caballos que cruzaban el puente levadizo. Poniéndose de puntillas, estiró su cuerpo de niña de cinco años, incrustando su hoyuelo en la repisa de piedra que rodeaba la pequeña ventana, en un esfuerzo por asomarse a la opaca luz que iluminaba a los jinetes, cada vez más cercanos. Desde la hendidura sin esmaltar de la pared del castillo, el brumoso viento otoñal barría húmedamente su resplandeciente cabello. No podía ver a los jinetes, pero podía oír el crujido de las armaduras de acero, mientras entraban al patio interior del castillo.
Su padre venía por ella.
— ¿Puedo bajar, Nanna? —preguntó ella por enésima vez—. Por favor, ¿Nanna?
—Sabes lo que dijo tu madre, niña —respondió la anciana, sonriendo ante la emoción irreprimible de la pequeña. Ese era un gran día para ella. Ese era un gran día para todos. Fiona saltó de la ventana y recogió su pequeño taburete junto a la chimenea, llevándolo rápidamente a la ventana más alta y subiéndose en él. Cuando presionó su rostro en la abertura, una ráfaga de aire nocturno escocés la llenó de expectación.
Pero su madre había dado órdenes estrictas de que debía permanecer en su habitación hasta que la llamaran. Él debía ser muy importante, pensó la niña con entusiasmo, tratando de distinguirlo de entre los jinetes en el patio. A la luz de las antorchas pudo ver la variada gama de tartanes del grupo de hombres que desmontaban abajo.
Aunque Fiona ni siquiera recordaba cuándo había visto a su padre por última vez, se esforzaba por recordar, mientras sus ojos escudriñaban al mar de hombres allá abajo, ¿cómo se vería? Ella era muy pequeña cuando él se había ido. Sin embargo, habían cosas sobre él que aún podía recordar, vagamente; su risa profunda y fácil; su suave barba roja; y la extraña cadena con forma de cinturón, que podía sentir debajo de su camisa. Su madre le había dicho que su padre siempre la usaba, pero nunca le había dicho por qué.
—Tu papá es un hombre ocupado, Fiona —le decía siempre que preguntaba por él.
Toda su vida Fiona había oído hablar de batallas con los sucios ingleses que intentaban tomar las tierras escocesas. Y toda su vida había escuchado a su madre decirle el cómo papá tenía que ayudar; el cómo era su trabajo ayudar a mantener su hogares y su país a salvo. Pero ahora regresaba a ellas, haciendo una visita especial. Para llevarla a ella, a su madre y a Nanna a su propio castillo. Para estar con él. Durante la última semana, Fiona había estado siguiendo a Nanna mientras hacía sus tareas. La niña había intentado con todas sus fuerzas ser de ayuda y no un obstáculo. Después de todo, tenía tantas preguntas sobre la próxima visita de su padre, y Nanna era la única que le hablaba del tema.
Deseaba poder recordar más. Desde que ella tenía memoria, nadie hablaba con ella sobre su padre. Habían momentos en que su madre le permitía vislumbrar aquellos instantes en que habían estado juntos, y era durante esas conversaciones que Fiona escuchaba hablar sobre el humor y el coraje de su padre, sobre la clase de hombre que era. Pero luego su madre no volvía a responderle sus otras preguntas sobre él, por lo que seguían siendo un misterio.
A veces Fiona se preguntaba si su padre todavía la amaba. Se preguntaba si la echaría tanto de menos, como ella a él. A veces incluso soñaba con él, cuando lo hacía, él era como un ángel flotando muy lejos, lejos de ella; pero cuidándola siempre. Podía verlo, su pelo y barba color rojo flotando a su alrededor como si soplara una suave brisa. Y ahora todos le decían a Fiona que no molestara a su madre.
La niña sabía que su madre no era la de siempre. Había estado muy callada durante los últimos días, estando sola en su habitación durante horas. Fiona había escuchado su llanto y Nanna le había dicho que a su madre sólo le costaba creer que lo que había deseado durante tanto tiempo, finalmente se estuviera haciendo realidad. Pero la niña sabía que tenía que ser algo más.
Durante su tiempo juntas, Nanna le había dicho que, por razones fuera de su control, los padres de Fiona no habían podido casarse hasta ese momento, pero que su amor finalmente había triunfado. Por fin, su padre le había dicho a su gente que Fiona era su hija, y que él y su madre iban a casarse. Fiona no estaba realmente segura de lo que significaba estar casado, pero sabía que tenía que ser algo muy especial. Después de todo, ella iba a tener un padre permanente ahora. Pero lo más importante, sabía que eso significaba que su madre nunca más volvería a estar triste. Nanna le había dicho eso.
Así que la niña comenzó a contar las antorchas que estaban encendiendo en el patio. Sabía que su padre tendría guerreros con él. Nanna había dicho que el padre de Fiona tenía a varios que lo atendían.
—Fiona, ven aquí para que pueda trenzarte ese cabello salvaje que tienes —reprendió Nanna suavemente, sonriendo pacientemente a la entusiasta niña.
La habitación era cálida y cómoda, y la anciana se sentía en paz con el mundo.
English to Spanish: Violet and the Lost Colors General field: Other Detailed field: Gaming/Video-games/E-sports
Source text - English Ah, ..okay.
I-it's alright. I can find it by my own.
Oh my,! that is indeed my precious ii[21]! .You found it!
C[5]You gave Farmer Mushroom his ii[21] back.
"They like to eat leaves, these goos.. That is why, perhaps, they mistook my precious necklace as one."
Well, I can only say for the c[3]greenc[0] ones about that.
"Why yes, I can't say for sure about the rainbow goos because I have never caught a sight of one. .You have heard of them?"
What?.. You've seen one?. How wonderful! Lucky you!
I would love to be able to catch a glimspe of one at least once in my life.
Hm,.. what did you say? ..There is only green goo?
Have you not ever heard about the rainbow goos?
"The sighting of one is rare, I tell you! It is said that good fortune would be bestowed upon the favored person who sees one."
"They are said to roam around the northern and western parts of this deep forest."
Ah, anyway, thank you for retrieving my precious ii[21].
I have something here for you in return for your kindness.
C[5]Received a ia[22]!
Translation - Spanish Ah..., está bien.
E-está bien. Puedo encontrarle por mi cuenta.
¡Oh! Es de hecho mi ii[21]! . ¡Le encontraste!
C[5]Le devolviste ii[21] al Granjero champiñón.
"A los goos les gusta comer hojas... Por eso, tal vez, confundieron mi collar con una hoja".
Bueno, solo puedo decir esto sobre c[3]verdec[0].
"Por qué sí, no puedo decir con certeza algo sobre los goos arcoíris porque nunca he visto uno. ¿Tú sabes algo?"
¿Qué? ¿Has visto uno? ¡Qué maravilla!, ¡qué suerte la tuya!
Me encantaría poder ver uno de lejos al menos una vez en mi vida.
Hm... ¿Qué dijiste...? ¿Hay un goo verde cerca?
¿Nunca has oído hablar de goos arcoíris?
"El avistamiento de uno es muy raro, ¡te lo digo yo! Se dice que la buena fortuna acompañará a la persona que viera uno".
"Se dice que vagan por las partes norte y oeste de lo profundo
del bosque".
Ah, de todos modos, gracias por recuperar mi ii[21].
Tengo algo para agradecerte tu amabilidad.
C[5]Recibiste ia[22].
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Bachelor's degree - Universidad Evangélica de El Salvador
Experience
Years of experience: 7. Registered at ProZ.com: Sep 2018. Became a member: Dec 2022.
English to Spanish (El Salvador: Universidad Evangélica de El Salvador) Spanish to English (El Salvador: Universidad Evangélica de El Salvador)
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Adobe Acrobat, Aegisub, EZTitles, Indesign, MateCat, memoQ, Microsoft Excel, Microsoft Office Pro, Microsoft Word, OmegaT, Aegisub, Powerpoint, Smartcat, Trados Studio
Hello, my name is Denice, and I am a seasoned professional translator.
As a native Spanish LATAM speaker, I am fluent in English and Portuguese.
My expertise lies in audiovisuals and video game localization. I bring a wealth of experience in subtitling movies and series for various streaming platforms, ensuring adherence to style guides and customization to meet your specific requirements.
Moreover, I have undergone specialized training in videogame localization through ISTRAD and have actively contributed to several projects in this field.
Proficient in utilizing tools such as Eztitles for subtitling, as well as Trados and MemoQ for localization.
If you are seeking a reliable professional in these domains, look no further—I am your ideal choice.
Keywords: Video game localization, subtitling, audiovisual translation
Member since Dec '22
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