作者 主题: 【龙枪】少年Gi的奇幻漂流  (阅读 21710 次)

副标题: The Odyssey of Gilthanas

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【龙枪】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 于: 2013-07-14, 周日 13:17:34 »
【正式版0.7】只包含小说部分的中译电子书:
mobi版百度云http://t.cn/zQ3jrtE;新浪微盘 http://t.cn/zQusCEU
PDF版百度云http://t.cn/zQ3jrtn ;新浪微盘http://t.cn/zQ3jOEN

更正一下tunic是束腰外衣而不是短上衣……懒得改了,1.0版改过来……

----------------------------------------------------------------------

其实它的通用译名是吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗,虽然我更喜欢叫它吉尔赛那斯的放浪之旅……

看到网上有些零零散散的译文但是一方面不全一方面一部分感觉不好……如果在这几天没有看到其他人的占坑宣言的话这坑我就占了>_<
其实这书的第一篇(?)中译到现在已经过了十年,但我后知后觉地这几天才去下载到一个英文版
对这个被作者遗忘了的悲剧中的战斗机相当有爱,对大地旅者啊风俗谈啊什么的也相当有爱,所以就看得很激动很想翻……
然后龙枪第五纪的历史我其实不是很了解,传奇之后的故事十年前虽然看了,也不记得了……所以译名什么的如果有问题请指教
以及应该会翻得很慢,反正已经过了十年也不差这一年了吧 :em032……


这个是封面不过为什么我看到这张图瞬间开坑的热情都灰了一半……
« 上次编辑: 2013-08-20, 周二 21:29:31 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #1 于: 2013-07-14, 周日 13:44:45 »
使用的源是网上搜的这个PDB格式电子书,说明如下
劇透 -   :
The Odyssey of Gilthanas
Reader's Companion
Douglas Niles, Steve Miller, and Stan!
1999 TSR, Inc.
All Rights Reserved.
 
OCR'ed by Alligator
croc@aha.ru

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

离线 茶白猫小修

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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #2 于: 2013-07-14, 周日 14:17:25 »
吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗阅读指南

“龙枪”系列故事从一开始就同时属于两个不同的世界——文学的,以及冒险游戏的世界。虽然小说和游戏产品总是相互依存,各自讲述这故事的一部分;并且同时二者又常常合力将故事推向任何一方无法独力完成的厚重深度——但游戏与书籍仍然是泾渭分明的。RPG玩家阅读小说,小说读者将游戏产品作为参考资料,但从未有一本书同时服务于两个群体——在这部书出世之前。

《吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗》最初来源于一个名为“神秘之地(Mystic Places)”的游戏资源的构思,但尝试这一全新形式的机会一俟出现,龙枪团队就毫不犹豫地抓住了它。毕竟,对于龙枪系列——第一个由小说和角色扮演游戏共同创造的世界——的十五周年诞辰,还有什么比让二者间的自然链接更进一步更好的庆祝方式呢。

这本书同时面向两种不同的需求。首先,它讲述了自吉尔赛那斯王子于龙枪编年史三部曲末尾最后一次在卡拉曼现身,到Jean Rabe写作的《新时代巨龙》三部曲中他逃出凯蓝卓斯的战俘营之间的这段时间发生在他身上的故事。其次,这本书的附录也提供了许多在龙枪地图上存在多年却从未进入某本书籍或游戏产品的有趣地点的源素材。事实上,这些地点正是吉尔赛那斯在他的漫长漂泊中所造访的。龙枪:第五纪或AD&D游戏的玩家可以直接将本附录提供的信息引入他们的战役。

劇透 -   :
A Guide to Gilthanas's Odyssey
 
From the beginning, the DRAGONLANCE Saga has belonged to two different worlds: the worlds of literature 
and of adventure gaming. While novels and game products have always relied on one another to tell parts of 
the Saga, and while the two have often worked hand-in-hand to delve into tales with a greater depth than either 
medium could do alone, games and books have remained distinct from one another. Role-playing gamers 
read the novels, readers used game products as reference material, but there was never a single book that 
served both communities at the same time—until now.
The Odyssey of Gilthanas was originally going to be a game resource titled "Mystic Places," but when the 
opportunity arose to try this new format, the DRAGONLANCE team jumped at it. After all, what better way to 
celebrate the fifteenth anniversary of the DRAGONLANCE Saga, the first world created for both fiction and 
roleplaying, than to take that natural link to the next stage of evolution.
This book addresses two distinct needs. First, it tells the tale of what happened to Prince Gilthanas 
between his final appearance in Kalaman near the end of the Chronicles trilogy and his release from 
Khellendros's prison camp in the Dragons of a New Age trilogy by Jean Rabe. Secondly, this book provides 
source material in the appendix for several intriguing sites that have existed on DRAGONLANCE maps for years 
but have never made their way into a book or game product. As it turns out, these sites are places Gilthanas 
visited during his odyssey. For players of the DRAGONLANCE: FIFTH AGE or the ADVANCED DUNGEONS & DRAGONS 
games, the information in this appendix applies directly to their campaigns.
« 上次编辑: 2013-08-04, 周日 16:54:59 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

离线 茶白猫小修

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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #3 于: 2013-07-14, 周日 16:59:07 »
索兰尼亚外海,28sc

水珠以固定的节拍从潮湿的木板表面滴滴答答地落下,那节拍几乎与囚徒的心跳声一致。他不知道自从这持续不断的滴答声组成了存在感的框架起,他的心已经跳动了多少次,又已经经历了多少个小时乃至昼夜,但他从中获得了慰藉,因为正是计数着,感受着自己的心跳,他才确认自己真的还活着。

他还活着,所以他应该觉得还有希望……不是吗?

他试着反抗体内回答“或许没有,或许希望已经完全消逝”的那个声音。在许多年的放浪之后,在逃避与无果的追寻之后,在欺骗与背叛之后,他又一次回到了起点。作为一个囚徒,深锁在黑暗之中,被孤独地留在这里等待腐烂。

这一次,他的囚室是一条船——一条黑暗骑士的船,载着他航向未知的终点。他感到船体柔和地摇晃,听见木板随着波涛的起落被绷得嘎吱作响。他曾以为这里是全然黑暗的,但当头骨的抽痛渐渐消退,他才意识到是自己的眼睛肿得压根睁不开。如果不是因为这个,那就是看守的老拳把他给打瞎了,而他正好幸运地在那一刻昏了过去。

然后他渐渐开始察觉到,在这潮湿冰冷的监牢里,他并不孤单。他通过嗅觉和听觉感受着周遭。空气是霉臭的,充满了霉菌代谢物和尿的气味,依稀还有更加恶心的粪便和腐肉的气味。没有任何气流拂过他的肌肤,潮湿感不仅来自有规律地下落的水滴——在这污浊空气的寒意里,不存在任何来自阳光或任何克莱恩上所知火焰的温暖意象,这种潮湿感深入了他的骨髓。

他的双腕被冷酷的枷锁束缚在一堵墙上,令他被迫保持着一个“大鹏展翅”的坐姿。他吊在两侧的手臂和手感到麻木,臀与腿由于长时间在冰冷无情的木板上负担着他的体重而变得僵硬。等到完全明白过来自己的处境,他由于这钢铁镣铐的存在而振奋起来:这枷锁是一件能够证明时间的东西。从他被关到这个监牢里到现在并没有经过数周乃至数月。事实上,他还从未改变姿势吃过饭,甚至也没有喝过水,因此他明白了自己这样顶多不过数天——否则早该不在人世了。

他身处一艘大船的甲板下,他不知这艘船将去向何方。但是得知身处同一空间的还有其他人足以令他得到一些小小的安慰。他听到轻悄的低语——几乎不敢制造一点儿响动的人声。他听到有谁蹒跚地靠近他,光脚近乎无声地在光滑的船板上移动。然后他听到了话语,他的生命力开始回到他身上。

“我的王子……我尊贵的主人——您能原谅我吗?”

那声音发出一声呻吟,紧接着听到了强烈的“嘘——”声;显然其他囚徒要这说话的人尽量小声点,以免招来看守他们的黑暗骑士的惩罚。

“拜托你,”王子轻声说,“小点声……你得知道,我已经原谅你了。你不过是在你的心灵驱使下行动的——如果我没有和你一样听从心灵的指引,我们俩如今就都不会被关在这儿了。”

“对……对不起,”王子想起答话的人名叫莱萨格斯(Lethagas)。莱斯(Leth)是一名年轻的精灵,但他是个忠实又优秀的随从。如今他的内疚与悲伤给这位囚徒带来了不必要也难以承受的负担。

监牢里沉寂了一段时间,静得只能听到船体迟缓的嘎吱声。他试着令自己的思维飘远,唤回一幅银发美人的图景,一段如同天籁的笑声……诸神啊,他是多么思念她!他穿越整个世界去寻找她,追寻了多少年,多少个十年……最终只得到这样的结局。而他仍然不承认自己的失败。

王子眼睛周围的肿胀逐渐消退,他终于得以用模糊的视线环视四周。与他共处一室的是另外六个囚徒,但只有他被如此粗暴地锁在墙上。在他们之中,他认出了莱萨格斯。与他和莱斯一样,其他人也都是男性精灵。对人类而言过于褴褛的衣裳勉强遮盖着他们污秽的肌肤,个个都顶着一头蓬乱的金发。从囚徒们苍白的肌肤可以看出,他们已经在这甲板之下受了很长时间的折磨。

最后,一个驼背的狱卒在两名黑暗骑士警惕的目光监视下沉默地带过来一碗食物和一桶水。这些看守从头到脚都隐藏在黑色的装束中,看起来就像极其危险的雕塑。这名怪异的仆人打开囚室前铁栏杆上的门锁,把门推开一条缝,刚刚够把碗和桶推进监牢。一个肮脏的水瓢浮在褐色的水面上。

在看守离开之后,精灵囚徒们轮番舀出一口恶心的杂烩,喝着腐臭的水。王子高兴地看到精灵们没有爆发任何争执和厮打——如果把人类或矮人放在同样的处境下,他们会这么干的。其他精灵甚至允许莱萨格斯照顾王子先吃,但是他谢绝了,加入了他们的队列。

在驱散饥饿之前,那些食物就耗尽了。然后,囚徒们聚集到了他——这位脸颊上有一道长长伤疤,穿着银绑腿和光亮的皮上衣的精灵周围。很显然他们清楚看守将会再停留一阵子,因为其中一位较为年长的,失去了一只眼睛,笨拙地拖着一条萎缩的跛腿的精灵隔了一段时间才开了口。

“他管你叫王子,高贵的精灵,你叫什么名字?”

“我是吉尔赛那斯·索拉斯特伦,奎灵纳斯提的王子。”他简短地回复道。

“我们听说过您,伟大的王子,”那残疾的精灵说,“我们敬仰您的姓氏。但是,请告诉我,您是怎么成了黑暗骑士的阶下囚,乘上了这死亡船?”

“这是一个连我,连我本人,都不理解的故事,”精灵回答道,发出自嘲的轻笑,“讲这个故事需要花很长,很长的时间。”

“那么,我们真的相当幸运,”老年精灵宣告,“因为在这儿,我们唯一拥有的充裕的东西,就是时间。”

吉尔赛那斯环视这一群精灵,他们全都全神贯注地注视着他。说真的,他并不明白他的道路如何会将他带到了这里,但倘若他试着将整个故事一一道来,也许会对理清思路有所助益吧……

劇透 -   :
Off the Coast of Solamnia, 28sc
 
The water dripped down the surface of dank timbers in a regular cadence, approximately in time to the 
beating of the prisoner's heart. He had no idea how many heartbeats, how many hours or even days had 
passed since that persistent plopping had formed the framework of his existence, but he took comfort in it, for 
the very act of counting, of feeling his heart beat, confirmed that he was indeed alive.
And while he lived, he should feel hope ... shouldn't he?
He tried to resist the part of him that answered: perhaps not, perhaps hope was over. After years of 
wandering, after escapes and fruitless quests, after deceit and betrayal, he was back where he had begun. A 
prisoner, locked in the darkness, left alone to rot.
This time his cell was a ship—a vessel of the Dark Knights bearing him to an unknown destination. He felt 
the gentle rocking of the hull and heard the straining of the timbers as the swells rose and fell. He had thought 
that it was utterly dark, but when the throbbing in his skull subsided slightly, he recognized that his eyes were 
too swollen to open. Either that, or a beating at the hands of the guards had blinded him, and he had been 
mercifully unconscious at the time.
Yet he gradually became aware that, in this damp and chilly hold, he was not alone. He examined his 
surroundings by smell and by sound. The air was musty, stained with the ordure of mold and urine, and 
underlaid by the more vile stenches of feces and rotten flesh. No breeze caressed his skin, and the sense of 
dampness came from more than the steady dripping—it permeated him in the chill of the stagnant air, in the 
lack of any suggestion of warmth from the sun or any source of Krynn-bound fire.
Cruel shackles bound his wrists to a wall, holding him spread-eagled in a sitting position. His arms and 
hands, suspended to the sides, felt numb, and his buttocks and legs were stiff from bearing his weight on cold, 
unforgiving timbers. When he fully understood his position, he took heart from the fact of his iron manacles: the 
shackles served as a confirmation of time. It had not been weeks or monts since he had been placed in this 
hold. In fact, he had not changed posture to eat, nor even to drink, so he knew that he had not been like this for 
very many days—else he would be dead by now.
He was below decks on a large ship that was bound for he knew not where. But he could take some 
minimal comfort from the knowledge that others were in this place with him. He heard hushed 
whispers—people's voices scarcely daring to make a sound. He heard someone shuffle close to him with bare 
feet gliding almost soundlessly across the smooth boards.
And then he heard words, and his life began to return to him.
"My Prince . . . O Royal Master—can you ever forgive me?"
The voice was a groan and was followed by emphatic shushing; obviously other prisoners wanted the 
speaker to keep his voice down to spare them the risk of punishment by the stern Dark Knights who guarded 
them.
"Please," whispered the prince. "Try to be silent... and know that I have forgiven you. You but acted upon 
the impulse of your heart—and if I had not done the same, we neither of us would be here today."
"I... I'm sorry," replied the one the prince remembered as Lethagas. Leth was a young elf, but he had served 
faithfully and well. Now his guilt, and his grief, were burdens that the prisoner neither needed nor deserved.
For a time the hold was silent save for the gradual creaking of the ship. He tried to let his mind drift away, to 
recall an image of silver beauty, a laugh like the music of the cosmos... gods, how he missed her. He had 
crossed a world to find her, sought for years, for decades... only to come to this. And still he would not 
acknowledge defeat.
The swelling around the prince's eyes gradually lessened, and he could at last get a blurred look at his 
surroundings. Six other prisoners shared the hold with him, though only he was so rudely chained to the wall. 
He recognized Lethagas among them. The others, like Leth and himself, were male elves. To a man ragged 
garments barely covered their filthy skin, and they bore unkempt golden hair. Pale skin suggested that the 
prisoners had languished below decks for quite some time.
Eventually, a hunchbacked turnkey silently brought a bowl of food and a pail of water under the watchful 
eyes of a pair of Dark Knights. These guards, cloaked from head to foot in black, observed like very dangerous 
statues as the grotesque servant unlocked the door in the iron bars at the front of the cell. He opened the portal 
only wide enough to push the bowl and bucket into the hold. A single grimy ladle floated in the brownish water.
When the guards left, the elven prisoners took turns scooping out bites of vile chowder and drinking putrid 
water. The prince was pleased to see none of the bickering, even fighting, erupt as it would among humans or 
dwarves entrusted with a similar regimen. The others even allowed Lethagas to offer the prince the first 
serving, though he declined and supped in turn with the rest.
The eating ended before the hunger. Afterward, the prisoners gathered around him—the elf with the long 
scar on his face who wore leggings of silver and a tunic of burnished leather. Apparently they knew that the 
guards would stay for a while because one, an elder who was missing one eye and limped awkwardly on a 
withered leg, at last spoke up.
"He called you prince, noble elf. What is your name?"
"I am Gilthanas Solostaran, prince of Qualinesti," he replied simply.
"We know of you, O Prince," said the crippled elf. "And we hail your family's name. But tell me: How do you 
come to be the prisoner of the Dark Knights, hauled in this ship of death?"
"That is a story that I, myself, don't even understand," replied the elf with a wry chuckle. "And it would take 
a very long time to tell."
"Then we are indeed fortunate," declared the elder. "For there is only one thing in which we are wealthy, 
and that is time."
Gilthanas looked at the group, all of whom regarded him with attentive eyes. Truly, he didn't know how his 
road had brought him here, but prhaps it would help him to understand if he were to put the story into words....
« 上次编辑: 2013-08-03, 周六 21:25:29 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #4 于: 2013-07-14, 周日 19:02:58 »
*****

“我曾经还拥有许多——不仅是时间,”吉尔赛那斯开了口。他的思绪被拉回现实,在此之前他看起来似乎在追忆着早年的生活——在地牢、追寻与放浪将他塑造成如今的样子之前的生活。事实上,由于那段生涯与眼下的处境没有任何相似之处,他简直像是在思索另一个人的事情似的。

“我曾拥有权力与财富……作为拯救世界的大英雄,我的声望远播四海……但是,我找不到幸福快乐。”

“我记得,”年老的囚徒说,“您当时是北方某个城市的城主……卡拉曼,是叫这个名字吗?”

“正是,朋友。不过,请告诉我你的名字。”

“我叫巴纳萨尔(Banatharl),来自奎灵纳斯提谷。”精灵的声音轻柔而遥远,吉尔赛那斯明白,他也同样在试图重构一段完全消逝的过往。

“我是您的兄长波修士的追随者,在黑暗骑士把我变成他们的玩物之前。”

“啊,波修士……在我的讲述中,他也占有一席之地。尽管我们俩的故事并没有像许多对兄弟那样彼此交织。”

“您到了卡拉曼,后来呢?”一位较年轻的精灵催促道,他自我介绍名叫卡拉尼亚斯(Carranias),也来自奎灵纳斯提,“那不是您在长枪战争后的领地吗?”

“正是。我在敏加战役如火如荼的时期来到那座城市,在那个我们最终击败了安塞隆的巨龙君主——龙骑将艾瑞阿卡斯的春天。”

“您作为解放军的领袖奋战,对吗?”莱萨格斯催促着。

“是作为他们的一分子……我的妹妹罗拉娜那时是‘黄金将军’,她被索兰尼亚的骑士推为领袖,领导他们在那场战役中取得胜利。我乘在西悠瓦拉的背上飞翔……那只全世界最伟大,最睿智,最美丽的银龙。我们一同击败了黑暗之后塔克西丝的龙群。我们杀死了许多强大的蓝龙。当黑暗之后的大军逃离卡拉曼,西悠瓦拉和我在这座城市的大广场上小憩。在我们在奈拉卡取得最终胜利之后不久,卡拉曼的人民派出信使,请求我担任他们的城主。”

“可是您不是奎灵纳斯提的王子吗?”巴纳萨尔问道。

“是的,但那个国度是我大哥波修士的领地。他的统治令人心安,前景一派光明灿烂。你记得吧,就在长枪战争后不久,他迎娶了阿尔瀚娜·星光,而她正是另一个精灵国度——西瓦纳斯提的继承人。”

“她同时也是奎灵纳斯提的王后,”老人颔首道,“因此人们都怀着巨大的期待,期待着国王与王后之间的孩子的诞生——那将是一个一统我们古老种族的精灵。”

“没错。因为我的祖国由如此贤明的统治者执掌,我得以将我的才华用在其他地方,我要去那些需要我的地方。”

“那么,卡拉曼正是这样一个需要你的地方?”

“看上去如此……但事实上,事情并不是那么简单。”随着故事余下的部分在他的记忆中徐徐展开,吉尔赛那斯陷入了沉默。他无法讲述他对西悠瓦拉的爱——宛如点燃一堆冰冷的煤炭般,那位美丽的,银发的精灵女子在他的心头燃起了熊熊爱火。她是他完美的伴侣。她本应该做他的新娘,为他生儿育女……

然而后来他得知了真相:尽管她可以随心所欲地让自己看上去像个女子,一个美得教他心碎的女子,但她并不是精灵。她的心智、灵魂、她真实的肉体都是一条银龙。西悠瓦拉甚至比几十岁的精灵王子还要年长。她是只远古的生物,拥有近乎不朽的智慧。他爱上了她,并且他也认为,她同样爱上了他,但他们之间的鸿沟过于宽阔了。双方都认为,他俩的生涯注定要被书写成两本毫无交集的故事。

首先做出那命运抉择的并不是银龙。相反,转身逃避的是精灵……吉尔赛那斯赶走了西悠瓦拉,将自己的生涯投入到帮助那些需要他的人类的事业中。

许多年来,他几乎确信,自己做了正确的决定。

劇透 -   :
*****
 
"Once I had a great deal more than mere time," Gilthanas began. His thoughts drifted back, and it seemed 
as though he might have been looking at an earlier life—an existence before dungeons and quests and 
wanderings had given shape to his days. Indeed, he might have been considering the life of someone else for 
all the similarities he could bring to his present circumstances.
"I had power and wealth... I had a reputation known far and wide, status as a hero in the greatest cause of 
the world ... and yet, I could not find happiness."
"I remember," said the elder prisoner. "You were lord of some city in the north ... Kalaman, was it not?"
"Indeed, good friend. But pray, tell me your name."
"I am called Banatharl, of Qualinesti Vale." The elf's voice was soft, distant, and Gilthanas knew that he, too, 
was trying to reconstruct a well-removed past. "I was a follower of your brother Porthios, until the Dark Knights 
made me their pet."
"Ah, Porthios ... he has a place in my tale, though our stories are not as intertwined as many brothers might 
be."
"To Kalaman, then?" prodded a younger elf, who introduced himself as Carranias, also of Qualinesti. "Was 
that not your fiefdom after the War of the Lance?"
"Indeed. I came to that city at the culmination of the Vingaard Campaign, the spring season of battles 
resulting in the defeat of Highlord Ariakas, the Dragon Emperor of Ansalon."
"You came at the head of the liberating army, did you not?" prodded Lethagas.
"As a part of that army ... my sister Laurana was the Golden General, appointed by the Knights of Solamnia 
to lead them in the triumphant campaign. I flew upon Silvara ... greatest, wisest, most beautiful silver dragon in 
all the world. Together we battled the wyrms of Takhisis, Queen of Darkness. We slew many powerful 
serpents of blue. And when the Dark Queen's armies fled Kalaman, Silvara and I came to rest in the city's great 
plaza. It was soon after our ultimate victory at Neraka that the people of Kalaman sent for me and asked me to 
be their Lord Mayor."
"But were you not a prince of Qualinesti?" asked Banatharl.
"Indeed, but that realm was the fiefdom of my brother Porthios. His rulership seemed secured, and it even 
bore splendid portents for the future. You will remember that shortly after the War of the Lance, he married 
Alhana Starbreeze, who was herself heir to the other elven realm, Silvanesti."
"She was a queen to Qualinesti as well," nodded the elder. "And the people held out great hope that she 
would bear a child to the king and queen—an elf who would bring the promise of the unification of our ancient 
race."
"True. And with my homeland thus in good hands, I had cause to use my talents elsewhere, to go where I 
was needed."
"And you were needed in Kalaman?"
"So it seemed . . . but still, it was not as easy as that." Gilthanas fell silent as the rest of the story unfolded 
in his memory. He could not speak of his love for Silvara, of the beautiful silver-haired elfmaid who had torched 
his heart into fire as if kindling it from chilly coal. She was his perfect lifemate. She should have been his bride 
and borne him children. ...
But then he had learned the truth: Though she could choose to look like a woman, with beauty so deep that 
it tore his heart, she was not an elf. In her heart and soul and true flesh she was a silver dragon. Silvara had 
lived for more years even than the decades-old elven prince. She was a creature of ancient might and nearly 
immortal wisdom. He had loved her, and he thought she had loved him, but their differences were too great. It 
had seemed to both of them that their lives had been ordained to be stories in separate books.
It had not been the silver dragon who had made the initial, fateful decision. Instead, the elf had turned his 
back... Gilthanas had sent Silvara away and turned his life to helping the humans who needed him.
For many years, he almost convinced himself that e had done the right thing.
« 上次编辑: 2013-07-18, 周四 18:09:42 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

离线 茶白猫小修

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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #5 于: 2013-07-14, 周日 22:37:52 »
*****

囚室中的其他精灵们尊重地保持着沉默,显然他们都意识到吉尔赛那斯正在重温一段他不愿分享的回忆。然而王子注意到了还有一群听众在等着他继续已经开了个头的故事,于是他深深地吸了一口气。

“我只想说,在卡拉曼的那些年,时光飞逝……我在那儿卓有成就,甚至我敢说,颇具人望。但他们并不是真正需要我。在为人民谋福利的工作之中,我也无法感觉到自己的所作所为是正确的。我反倒变得越来越不安,当数年,乃至数十年的光阴过去,我明白了,我必须离开那里。”

“您那时候知道您想去哪儿吗?”巴纳萨尔问。

吉尔赛那斯悔恨地笑起来,摇了摇头,“这是把我束缚在那座城市如此之久的唯一原因……长枪战争之后,整整三十年过去。然而我的不安与日俱增,我渴望着……渴望着某个我所失去的人。”

“自然,在克莱恩的其他地方,历史照常流转。我听说我的大哥波修士在西瓦纳斯提,致力于将腐败逐出那片土地,清理战后留下的瓦砾——每一个精灵都知道,那场战争对我们神圣先祖的故地而言是极为残酷的。”

“传言说西瓦纳斯提先王的噩梦成了真。”年轻的精灵卡拉尼亚斯嗫嚅道。

“事实如此。”另一位年长的精灵低语。

“当那个国度的摄政王,孔纳,对腐败束手无策之时,波修士赶到了。他带领西瓦纳斯提在他们自己的国土上获得了胜利。”卡拉尼亚斯显摆着自己的精灵史知识,其余的听众点着头默默同意。

“作为对此的报酬,”巴拉萨尔恨恨地说,“孔纳把他逮捕,扔进牢房,判处死刑。我知道这件事,因为我曾与那些本可以从西瓦纳斯提救出他的人们并肩飞行……但即使在那种境况下,吾王仍然在想方设法避免两大精灵王国间发生战争。”

“是的。但在我决定启程去看望大哥的时候,我对这一切还全然不知情。我只是期待着看到他所复苏的神圣王国,期待着从他口中听到其他的家人过得怎么样。我离开卡拉曼,怀着一种自由感,甚至是兴奋。我走海路去到圣克仙,然后改换陆路,一直抵达西瓦纳斯提的边境。”

“您告诉过您兄长您要来的消息吗?”提出这个问题的是卡拉尼亚斯,他的眼睛睁得大大的,沉浸在对那些高贵行为的想象中。

“没有……我是如此愚蠢,我想给他一个惊喜。当然,如果我和他取得联系,他也许会警告我不要靠近,或者也许我能够帮到他。不过事实上,我还没有在那宁静的林间小道上走上几英里,就被孔纳的手下抓住了。”

“虽然遭到了猛烈的袭击——或者说,正是由于那些袭击——我至今还记得当我步入那精灵王国时那奇妙的感觉:西瓦纳斯提如同一个花园在我身边开展,芬芳的花朵从茂密的枝桠间累累垂落,树木被修剪得如此完美,形成了跨越头顶的拱门,形成了绵延数里的天然顶蓬。我来到一口池塘边——一片宁静的湖泊,如同明镜般倒映着天空的倩影——我在这儿下了马,打算在常绿树郁郁葱葱的浓荫之下享受午后的小睡。

“就在这里,孔纳的手下抓住了我……他们从四面八方跑来,丢出捕网,用棍子打我。在我明白发生了什么事之前,就已经成了他们的阶下囚。”

“他们把您带去了王宫,还是西瓦诺斯特(Silvanost)的某个监狱?”巴纳萨尔诧异道,他所说的是那个国度的首都,世界上最古老的城市之一。

“要是他们这么做就好了……但事实上我被带到了一个地洞里,一个土墙环绕的地牢,我是那里唯一的囚犯。我的看守们都是从孔纳的亲兵中选拔出来的。”“那地方在哪儿?”“直到很久以后我才知道……但我在那里被幽禁了很长时间。似乎足足过了有十二个年头,外面世事变迁。看守们兴高采烈地告诉我我所错过的那些事:波修士在审判他的精灵星(Sinthal-Elish)议会面前遭到羞辱,被逮捕并囚禁在星辰之塔中。”王子的声音绷紧了,“他们嘲笑着这讽刺的事实,夸耀着奎灵纳斯提的两个王子是如何由于让奎灵纳斯提和西瓦纳斯提两个国家再度结为一体的愚蠢盘算,而沦为了西瓦纳斯提的阶下囚。我确信,我所遭受的命运,对外面的世界来说还全然是个秘密……”

“尽管波修士逃了出来。”巴纳萨尔插嘴说。

“是的……半精灵坦尼斯和两只忠诚的狮鹫,把波修士从那座高塔中带出来,送到了安全的地方。我的看守被他的逃脱所激怒——为了泄愤,他们把我打得皮开肉绽——但令那群残酷的家伙幸灾乐祸的是,我的大哥已经离开了,他根本不知道自己把我抛在了这个地方。他们也曾提到阿尔瀚娜,那西瓦纳斯提的法定掌权者,是如何同样被放逐他乡。”

吉尔赛那斯吸了一口气。在那静默的牢笼中,他的精灵听众们全神贯注地倾听着。

“当然,在那之后不久,混沌之战蹂躏了克莱恩——那个炎热的夏天标志着古老诸神的离去,和魔法力量的消失。即使在囚笼里我也遭遇了这个事实,我曾施展一些小小的咒语来让我的监禁生涯变得稍稍可忍受一些——一朵微弱的火光,一小件温暖的斗篷,用于提供干燥的煤——而它们再也无法发挥作用。”

“告诉你们,善良的精灵啊,在那之后的数年间,我觉得自己彻底一无所有。我渴望着故乡,确信自己会死在那个洞里——我再也见不到奎灵纳斯提,再也见不到我那位魂牵梦萦的爱人……”


劇透 -   :
*****
 
The other elves in the cell maintained a respectful silence, obviously aware that Gilthanas was reliving 
memories he did not wish to share. But the prince was conscious of his audience, of the tale he had started to 
tell, and so he drew a deep breath.
"Let me just say that my years in Kalaman went by in a blur... that I was effective there, I even dare to say 
popular. But I wasn't really needed. Nor did I find in the work the kind of usefulness that let me know I was 
doing the right thing. Instead, I grew more and more restless, and as the years turned to decades, I knew that 
I would have to leave."
"Did you know where you wanted to go?" asked Banatharl.
Gilthanas laughed ruefully, shaking his head. "It was only that fact that kept me in the city for as long as I 
remained ... thirty full years after the War of the Lance. But as time passed I became increasingly restless, 
longing for... for someone I had lost.
"History passed in the rest of Krynn, of course. I learned that my brother Porthios was in Silvanesti, working 
hard to drive corruption from that land, to clean the detritus left in the wake of the war—which war, as every elf 
knows, was particularly cruel to that land of our hallowed ancestors."
"It is said that the late Silvanesti king's nightmares became real," whispered the younger elf, Carranias.
"It is said truthfully," whispered another ancient elf.
"And when the realm's own regent, Konnal, failed to conquer the corruption, Porthios arrived. It was he who 
led the Silvanesti to victory in their own realm." Carranias asserted his knowledge of elven history, while the 
other listeners nodded in mute agreement.
"And as reward for his service," Banatharl said bitterly, "Konnal had him arrested, thrown into a prison cell 
and sentenced to death. I know this, for I flew with those who would have rescued him in Silvanesti... but even 
then, our lord took care to see that war was avoided between the two elven nations."
"Aye. But I knew none of this as I decided to visit my brother. I merely wished to see the hallowed kingdom 
he had restored and to learn from him about the lives of the rest of our family. It was with a sense of freedom, 
even exhilaration, that I departed Kalaman. I traveled by sea to Sanction, and then overland until I had reached 
the border of Silvanesti."
"Did you tell your brother you were coming?" This question came from Carranias, whose eyes had widened 
with his imaginings about these royal doings.
"No . . . fool that I was, I wanted to surprise him. Of course, if I had gotten in touch with him, he might have 
warned me away, or I might have been able to help him. As it was, Konnal's agents seized me before I had 
ridden many miles down the peaceful forest trails.
"Despite that bitter assault—or perhaps because of it—I still remember the wondrous sensations of my 
entrance into the elven kingdom: Silvanesti spread like a garden around me, with fragrant blooms drooping 
heavily from lush branches, trees sculpted into such perfection that they formed arches overhead, and a 
natural canopy that extended for miles. I came to a pond—a still pool that reflected the sky with mirrored 
perfection—and here I dismounted to enjoy an afternoon's rest beneath the shade of a lush evergreen.
"And this is where Konnal's agents took me . . . they rushed from all sides, threw nets, and beat me with 
clubs. Before I knew what was happening, they had made me a prisoner."
"Did they take you to the palace or to some prison in Silvanost?" Banatharl wondered, speaking of the 
capital of the realm and one of the oldest cities in the world.
"Would that they had ... but instead I was taken to a mere hole in the ground, a dirt-walled dungeon where 
I was the only prisoner, and my guards were picked from Konnal's personal agents." "Where was that place?"
"I did not learn until much later ... but I languished there for a long time. It turned out to be a dozen years, 
while so many things passed in the world beyond. My guards geefully related the events I was missing: of 
Porthios shamed before the ruling Sinthal-Elish, of his arrest and imprisonment in the Tower of Stars." The 
prince's voice tightened. "They joked about the irony, boasted of how the two princes of Qualinesti were the 
prisoners of Silvanesti because they foolishly tried to bring the Qualinesti and Silvanesti nations together. My 
own fate, I was assured, remained a secret from the outside world..."
"While Porthios made his escape," Banatharl interjected.
"Aye ... Tanis Half-Elven and two loyal griffins, plucking Porthios from the high tower and bearing him to 
safety. My guards were infuriated by his escape—they beat me bloody in their vexation—but the cruel fellows 
gloated about the fact that my brother had gone away, and he didn't even know that he was leaving me behind. 
They also mentioned how Alhana, the rightful ruler of Silvanesti, had also been exiled."
Gilthanas drew a breath. In the silent prison, his elven listeners remained rapt.
"Of course, it was not long after that the Chaos War wracked Krynn—the summer of heat that marked the 
departure of the old gods, the vanishing of magic. That fact I encountered even in my cell, where the tiny 
incantations I had performed to make my imprisonment more tolerable—a glimmer of flame, a small cloak of 
warmth or coals for drying—all ceased to function.
"I tell you, good elves, that was the beginning of years when I felt utterly bereft. I longed for my homeland 
and convinced myself that I would die in that hole—that I would never see Qualinesti, nor the one I missed 
above all others, again...."
« 上次编辑: 2013-08-11, 周日 10:37:09 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #6 于: 2013-07-15, 周一 01:08:54 »
索-法伦之丘(The Hill of Sol-Fallon),11sc

钥匙在锁眼里转动的声音比平时更为刺耳,也许是因为这次转动它的人心怀愤怒,也许是怀着某种幸灾乐祸的喜悦。无论那打开牢门的人抱着怎样的情绪吧,吉尔赛那斯知道,这不是平时那位给他送来不新鲜的面包或恶心的炖菜的狱卒。

精灵王子爬起来,站直身子,盯视着远处阴影中的走廊。多年的幽禁苍白了他的肌肤,也无疑削弱了他的肌肉,但丝毫无损于他的精神力。看见打开牢门的那个人的瞬间,他在这精神力的驱使下疯狂地扑了过去——挥舞着拳头野蛮地攻击,发出口齿不清的咒骂。

当然,孔纳并不是孤身赴会。西瓦纳斯提军事总督的两名警卫高举着长棍迎上前来。吉尔赛那斯毫不理会他们,一心想掐孔纳的喉咙。但他只看到他的敌人冷笑的面容。警卫们干脆利落地执行了使命,其中一个一记长棍横扫敲开了他的手,另一个啪地一棍击中这囚徒的天灵盖。这一击把王子打晕了,他踉踉跄跄地倚靠着门扇,然后缓缓滑落到地板上。

“你的兄长从没有表现得如此鲁莽青涩,”这位自封的西瓦纳斯提领导者用温柔而责备的口吻说,“风度优雅如他,即使在接受监禁的时候也保持了全部的尊严。”

“我知道他已经逃脱了!”吉尔赛那斯吼道,为自己的孱弱感到沮丧,试图用咆哮来掩饰脆弱。

“你还相信那个古老的传说?事实上,放他走的是我……他留在这儿对我而言已经毫无价值。或许你也知道,我把他赶回奎灵纳斯提,在那里他被看做一个罪人——一个精灵族的叛徒。在那以后,有传言说他在混沌之战中被杀,我认为这是可信的。”

奎灵纳斯提!仅仅是他故乡的名字,都足以在吉尔赛那斯的心中燃起热望。当他描摹着那浩瀚的林海,祖国首都的水晶塔,那些曾是他的人民的,宁谧优美的精灵们,他需要用全副意志力控制自己不让悲痛通过脸和眼睛流露出来。

“但是如今,”孔纳的口吻既傲慢又幸灾乐祸,“是时候把我们的注意力转向更直接的问题了。跟我来。”

那高傲的西瓦纳斯提精灵转身走出门去。吉尔赛那斯不想跟随他,但哪怕只是离开这逼仄的牢笼几分钟工夫的诱惑,也足以令他克服对那位逮捕者的厌恶。他刻意忽略孔纳,高高地昂起头,通过牢门,走出了土墙环绕的监狱。

一名警卫在前面给他引路,另一个跟在后面。这一支小小的队伍走上楼梯,穿过一扇狭窄的门扉,眼前是一片坡地,头顶着阳光明媚的开阔天空。吉尔赛那斯被这光华照得眼花缭乱,死死地闭上眼睛,这超过感官极限的光亮令他的心智难以承受,头脑几乎停止了运转。与此同时,他又为周围环境的广阔所振奋,鼻孔呼吸着新鲜空气,沉醉在来自树和草,来自新鲜的空气,来自温暖而干爽的微风的芬芳气息之中。

“走啊!”一个警卫粗暴地从背后推了他一把,他把眼睛强撑开一条缝,这样至少能够看见脚边的地面了。他感觉到他们正在爬山,在攀登了差不多一百步之后,眼睛逐渐适应了光亮,他得以睁眼眺望四周。

他和孔纳,和那两名带着长棍的精灵战士一起,登上了一座高高的、圆整的山丘。西瓦纳斯提修葺良好的森林一直延展到遥远的地平线,而这块高地本身却坡度平缓,绿草如茵。他的四周是一些白色的大理石柱,山顶也铺设着同样的雪花石。

“你认得这个地方吗?”孔纳问。

“不认得。”

“我丝毫不惊讶。你们奎灵纳斯提的确是无知的蛮族,对我族引以为豪的宝贵遗产所知甚少。这里是索-法伦之丘。”

“那么这是召开首届精灵星议会的地方了,在这里缔结了精灵族的契约,从而建立了西瓦纳斯提。”吉尔赛那斯展示着自己对精灵史的了解,感到一阵奇妙的快意。

“正是。而你的囚室是向这个山丘下方挖掘的一个小山洞。”

“说不定正合适嘛,由于你的仇恨和偏见,你在这里囚禁了一位来自异国的精灵。你玷污了这个本应神圣的地方,孔纳,这正是你的风格啊。”

西瓦纳斯提的军事总督只是报以笑声:“好好享受你口出狂言的机会吧,‘王子’。这将是你最后一次说这种话的机会——而你也将不会有机会再说什么别的了。”

“你打算杀了我。”吉尔赛那斯指出了事实,他并不感到意外——然而同时也无法接受,一股突如其来的能量涌上心头。他试着思考,描摹着几个逃脱的方案,决心不如此轻易地引颈就戮。

“没错,就在这里,为了纪念我们的祖先西瓦诺斯(Silvanos)与他的同伴们做出的牺牲,是他们给我们留下这样的遗产——”

“这仇恨与盲目的遗产!”奎灵纳斯提的王子猛然打断了他,“是的,我也认为对于你那黑暗的怒火,我的鲜血会是合适的祭品。”

孔纳眯起双眼,一只手伸向腰间的长剑。然后他耸耸肩:“我不能指望一个像你这样的蠢货能理解。”

“为什么选在这个时候杀我?”吉尔赛那斯问,“我已经做了多少年的囚徒……?十年?”

“十二年。许多年前克莱恩经历了一场剧变,虽然你也许不知道这回事。”

事实上,王子的确不知道,除了一件事。就在被俘后不久,他发现自己的魔法能力消失了。那熟悉的施法过程如同一场无米之炊——他的言语和奥术手势没能唤出任何东西。魔法的练习毫无成效,如同婴儿的咿呀学语般可笑。

他不想表现出自己的无知,但他必须做点什么,哪怕只是为了拖延时间:“你所说的剧变是什么?”

“我们的世界迈入了新的时代……一个属于凡人的时代。诸神遗弃了我们,带走了他们的力量,丢下精灵、矮人与人类独自摸索道路。然而另一方面,克莱恩受到了新的威胁……那些混沌生物从内部开始摧毁我们的家园。还有许多传言提到巨龙——那些宏伟的,超出我们此前所有知识的生物——来自克莱恩之外,宣称要占领这个世界。”

“所以你就打算杀了我?”吉尔赛那斯嘲讽地反驳,“我不理解你的逻辑。”

“我留你活口这么多年的唯一原因就是:我认为在未来的某个时刻,你这条命或许会派上用场……换句话说,在奎灵纳斯提强行与我们建立的这段关系中,你是一枚筹码。不过如今——精确地说,是明天起——西瓦纳斯提将不再与奎灵纳斯提有任何关联——是的,西瓦纳斯提将与整个世界隔绝。”

王子好奇得无法自已:“你将如何实现这个目标?”

孔纳笑起来,笑声中蕴含着一丝疯狂。吉尔赛那斯注意到,连那两名警卫都警惕地注视着他们的领袖。

“明天,我们将在我们的土地周围升起一道结界——一道将西瓦纳斯提与世隔绝的魔法屏障。奎灵纳斯提将永远不知道你的下场,因为在结界升起后,他们和其他人一样,永远无法得知我们国度中所发生的一切。”

“你疯了!”吉尔赛那斯反射性地大喊,“切断自身与世间万物的联系?想想你们要付出的代价,想想你们会失去些什么!”

孔纳嗤之以鼻:“我们自给自足。事实上,有许多人觊觎我们的富饶。这道结界将保护我们的财产,从此无人能打扰这片森林中的神圣生活。”

“你的‘森林’不过是一片人工花园!想想吧,你这个蠢货——你们的儿女将在对其他生命的一无所知中成长!”

“他们需要知道的,这里应有尽有,”孔纳吼回去。他的声音蕴含着纯粹的信念,吉尔赛那斯意识到,这名失去理智的精灵竟然真的以为他能够说服眼前的囚徒自己的所作所为是正确的,“我们的艺术水平独步天下,我们知晓我族的真正历史——那段天经地义地统治着克莱恩的历史。而这道结界将确保我们永葆长青。”
 
吉尔赛那斯一边听孔纳说话,一边环顾四周,思索着逃脱的机会。他或许能迅速蹿离孔纳与两名警卫的面前,但他看到更多穿着红色短上衣制服的精灵守卫聚集在山脚下。他对自己在十二年幽禁生涯之后的体力没有信心。或许可以把总督捉为人质,然后利用他屏退警卫……

吉尔赛那斯刚想到这儿,孔纳退后了几步,他的两名随从横在了他和王子之间。他们举起长棍,时刻准备阻止他袭击孔纳。

就在这时,吉尔赛那斯听到横越头顶的振翅声——那是一群荣耀的生物,懒洋洋地在天空滑翔。他抬起头,看见了一打,或是更多的狮鹫,在山顶上方盘旋。这些飞行能手长年来都被作为精灵战士的空中坐骑,一瞬间他开始向往,他们的高速或许能把他带离这里。

“你看,就连狮鹫都在期待你的死亡,”孔纳大笑着宣布,“他们知道我们的结界计划,而且——你也许会感到惊讶——他们完全支持。”

羽翼的阴影覆盖了整个山顶,总督双手高举向天,狂喜地呼唤:“来吧,我身披羽毛的伙伴……来观看我敌人的末日!”他夸示地拔出剑,两名警卫向前一步,一左一右包围了吉尔赛那斯。

第一只狮鹫飞过,前爪轻蔑地轻弹,将孔纳掀翻在地,总督惊愕地咒骂着。吉尔赛那斯看见另外两只狮鹫推开了警卫,第四只牢牢抓住了他的肩膀。他感到自己的脚被提离了地面,尽管狮鹫的爪子嵌进皮肉相当疼,他还是大声嘲笑着他曾经的逮捕者。孔纳大幅挥舞着武器,但狮鹫早已身处二十英尺的高空,从山顶翱翔而去。

另一只狮鹫优雅地滑到他的下方,抓着吉尔赛那斯的那只松开了爪子,将精灵丢到那宽厚的背上。他看着那击风的白翼将他带向西方,眺望着身后逐渐远去的索-法伦之丘与四周修葺得如同花园的西瓦纳斯提森林。

“或许,不是你们全部的族民都想生活在西瓦纳斯提的新围墙之内的吧?”王子注视着飞在身边的狮鹫睿智的黄色眼睛轻声说。

那只生物只是点点他的头,飞过广袤的天空,向着古老精灵国度的边境,向着遥远彼方的整个世界飞去。

劇透 -   :
The Hill of Sol-Fallon, 11sc
 
The key turned in the lock with a harsher sound than usual, perhaps because this time it was twisted with 
anger, or perhaps gloating delight. Whatever the emotion of the person who unlocked the door, Gilthanas 
knew that this was not his usual jailor come with his repast of stale bread or vile stew.
Scrambling to his feet, the elven prince stood erect and glared at the shadowed hallway beyond. Years of 
confinement had paled his skin and, no doubt, weakened his muscles, but they had done nothing to break his 
spirit. And when he saw the one who had opened his door, that spirit compelled him into a furious rush—a wild 
attack of swinging fists and inarticulate curses.
Naturally, Konnal had not come alone. The two guards of Silvanesti's military governor stepped forward 
with upraised staffs. Gilthanas paid no heed, desiring only to get his fingers around Konnal's throat. But while 
he saw only the sneering face of his enemy, the guards did their efficient work, one knocking his hands aside 
with a sweep of the pole, the other cracking the prisoner across the skull with a blow that dazed the prince, 
sent him stumbling against the door and then slowly slumping to the floor.
"Your brother never displayed such rash immaturity," said the self-appointed leader of Silvanesti in a tone 
of gentle rebuke. "He had the grace to accept his imprisonment with dignity intact."
"I know that he escaped!" growled Gilthanas, dismayed by his own weakness and trying with bluster to 
cover up his frailty.
"You believe that old tale? In truth, I set him free ... I had no more use for him here. And perhaps you also 
know that I compelled him to return to Qualinesti, where he was treated as an outlaw—a traitor to elvenkind. 
Since then there have been rumors that he was killed during the Chaos War. I choose to believe them."
Qualinesti! Even the name of his homeland brought longing to the heart of Gilthanas. When he pictured the 
broad swaths of forest, the crystalline towers of his nation's capital, and the serene and beautiful elves who 
were his people, he needed all of his willpower not to allow his grief to show in his face and eyes.
"But now," Konnal's tone was lofty, gloating, "it is time to turn our attention to more immediate concerns. 
You will come with me."
The haughty Silvanesti stepped back from the door. Gilthanas didn't want to go with him, but the prospect
of even a few minutes outside the constricting cell was enough to overcome his loathing for the one who had 
imprisoned him. He ignored Konnal and held his head high as he passed through the door, and past the 
dirt-walled jailroom beyond.
One of the guards preceded him and the other followed as the little procession advanced up the stairs and 
through a narrow doorway that emerged onto a sloping field beneath the open, sunlit sky. Gilthanas was 
blinded by the brilliance, squeezing his eyes shut because of the mind-numbing brightness that overloaded his 
senses and threatened to shut down his brain. At the same time, he exhilarated in the vastness of his 
surroundings, by drawing fresh air through his nostrils and delighting in the odors of trees and grass, of fresh 
air and a warm, dry breeze.
"Move!" One of the guards pushed him roughly from behind, and by opening his eyes to slits he could see 
at least the ground beneath his feet. He sensed that they were moving uphill, and by the time they had gone a 
hundred paces, his eyes had become attuned enough that he could open them and look around.
Together with Konnal and the two staff-wielding elven warriors, he stood atop a high, rounded hill. The 
sculpted forests of Silvanesti spread to the far horizons, though the elevation itself was smooth and grassy. 
Around him were several columns of white marble, and the crest was paved in similar alabaster stones.
"Do you recognize this place?" asked Konnal.
"No."
"I'm not surprised. You Qualinesti are indeed ignorant savages, with little knowledge of our race's proud 
heritage. This is the Hill of Sol-Fallon."
"The place where the first Sinthal-Elish met and formed the pact of elves that created Silvanesti." Gilthanas 
felt a perverse pleasure in demonstrating some awareness of elven history.
"Precisely. Your cell is a small cave that has been excavated into the hillside below."
"Perhaps it is fitting that, in your hate and prejudice, you have imprisoned an elf from a different realm here. 
How like you, Konnal, to debase a place that should be hallowed."
The military governor of Silvanesti just laughed. "Enjoy your chances for bluster, 'Prince.' This will be your 
last opportunity to speak such words, or any others."
"You're going to kill me." Gilthanas stated the fact, unsurprised—but also, with a tingle of energy, 
unaccepting. He tried to think, to imagine some means of escape, resolving that his life would not end easily.
"Yes. Right here, in honor of the sacrifices made by our ancestor Silvanos and his fellows, who left us such 
a legacy—"
"Legacy of hatred and blindness!" snapped the prince of Qualinesti. "Yes, I suppose my blood will be a 
fitting offering to your dark furies."
Konnal's eyes narrowed and his hand went to the longsword at his waist. Then he shrugged. "I can't expect 
a fool such as yourself to understand."
"Why kill me now?" Gilthanas asked. "I have been a prisoner for... how long? Ten years?"
"Twelve. They have been years of dramatic changes across Krynn, though you might not know about that."
In truth, the prince didn't, except for one case. Shortly after his capture, he had noticed the failure of his 
magical abilities. It was as though during the familiar ritual of spellcasting he had been trying to drink from an 
empty vessel— his words, his arcane gestures, had called forth nothing at all. The practice of magic might as 
well have been the gibbering discourse of an infant, for all the effect it had produced.
He didn't want to admit his ignorance, yet he had to do something, if only to stall for time. "What are these 
changes of which you speak?"
"Our world has entered a new age ... an Age of Mortals. The gods have abandoned us and taken their 
powers with them, leaving elves and dwarves and humans to make their way on their own. But Krynn is beset 
by new threats, as well... creatures of chaos that would destroy our lands from within. There are stories, too, of 
great dragons—massive creatures, beyond the ken of previous knowledge—who threaten o claim all the 
world from without."
"And so you decided to kill me?" Gilthanas retorted wryly. "I'm not sure I follow your logic."
"The only reason I have kept you alive this long is that I wondered if, at some point in the future, your life 
might be useful to us... a bargaining chip, so to speak, in such interactions as the Qualinesti forced upon us. 
But now, as of tomorrow, to be precise, there will be no interactions between Silvanesti and Qualinesti—or, 
indeed, between Silvanesti and the rest of the world."
The prince was curious in spite of himself. "How are you going to achieve this?"
Konnal laughed, and there was a hint of madness in the sound. Even the two guards, Gilthanas noticed, 
looked warily at their leader.
"Tomorrow we will raise a barrier around our land—a fence of magic that will sever all ties between 
Silvanesti and the rest of the world. The Qualinesti will never learn of your fate, because after the barrier is 
raised neither they, nor anyone else, will know anything that happens within our realm."
"You're insane!" Gilthanas spat out, reacting by reflex. "You would cut yourself off from everything else in 
the world? Think of the cost, of the loss to yourselves!"
Konnal sneered. "We have everything we need. Indeed, we have much that is coveted by others. The 
barrier will see that our possessions remain intact and that none may interfere with the hallowed lives within 
this forest."
"This 'forest' is a tamed garden! Think of it, you fool—all your children will grow up knowing nothing more of 
life!"
"All they need to know they will find right here," Konnal shot back. The pure conviction rang in his voice, and 
Gilthanas was aware that this deranged elf actually thought he might convince his prisoner of the rightness of 
his actions. "We have the world's highest levels of art, and a true sense of our own history—of our own rightful 
dominance in the story of Krynn. And with the barrier, we will ensure that this status remains unchanged and 
secure throughout the rest of time."
As he listened to Konnal, Gilthanas had been looking around, wondering about his chances for escape. He 
might get away from Konnal and these two guards with a quick dash, but he saw more elves in the red tunics 
of House Protector gathered in knots about the base of the hill. And he had no illusions about his stamina after 
twelve years of languishing in prison. Perhaps he could take the governor hostage, use him to compel the 
guards to stay back....
Even as Gilthanas had the thought, Konnal stepped back and his two attendants moved to block the 
prince's path. Staffs raised, they stood ready to prevent him from attacking Konnal.
It was then that Gilthanas caught the first glimpse of wings overhead—of proud creatures gliding lazily 
through the skies. He looked up to see griffins, a dozen or more of them, circling over the top of the hill. The 
mighty fliers had long served as aerial mounts for elven warriors, and for just a moment he longed for the 
speed that might carry him away.
"You see that even the griffins await your execution," Konnal declared with a laugh. "They know of our 
plans for the barrier, and you might be surprised to learn that they fully support it."
The shadow of wings grew broader across the hilltop, and the governor raised his arms to the sky, crying 
out in glee. "Come, my feathered allies . . . watch the demise of our enemy!" With a flourish he drew his sword, 
while the two guards advanced to flank Gilthanas.
The first griffin flew over, and with a contemptuous flick of his taloned foreclaws, it knocked Konnal to the 
ground, drawing a startled oath. Gilthanas saw that two more had pushed the guards away, while another 
grasped his shoulders firmly. He felt his feet rise from the ground, and though the claws supporting him 
pressed painfully into his skin, he laughed aloud at the fury on his former captor's face. Konnal brandished his 
weapon wildly, but already the griffins were twenty feet overhead, gliding away from the hilltop.
Another of he graceful fliers glided underneath him, and the griffin supporting Gilthanas let go, dropping 
the elf onto the broad back. He looked at the white-feathered wings stroking the air, carrying him westward, 
and watched as the Hill of Sol-Fallon and the gardened forest of Silvanesti surrounding it receded below.
"Perhaps not all of your clan wants to stay within the new fence of Silvanesti?" the prince murmured, 
looking into the wise, yellow eye of griffin flying beside him.
The creature merely nodded his head, and then the flight spread through the skies, angling toward the 
border of the ancient elven realm, and to all the world beyond.
« 上次编辑: 2013-08-11, 周日 10:41:02 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #7 于: 2013-07-15, 周一 13:52:32 »
心灵之影:无踪之城(The Missing City),11sc

她的名字叫玛拉(Mala)——呃,我是说,我管她叫玛拉。她从未纠正我,因此我猜这对她来说不是个困扰。不过我觉得事实上我无论做什么都不会——哪怕轻微地——困扰到她。每天早晨我都跟玛拉一起走到那口井边,看她为她的家人汲水。我们从未交谈。我不大确定她是否知晓我的存在——我总是走在她身后几码远的地方,偶尔跑到前面,看她从我面前走过。只要她在身旁,我就心情舒畅。

我平生从未见过如此美丽的女子。不仅指外在的美貌(虽然也的确未曾有第二个女子的浅笑令我如此心痛);她的心灵也和她的面容一样美。因为放不下她的双亲,玛拉已经拒绝了许多人的追求。

她的姐姐们有时会乘着丈夫的马车来访;仆人们赶着马车从花园区驶来。她们带来奢侈品,比如西瓦纳斯提的水果,在衰老的双亲面前撒娇承欢,但她们从没有在家中做过一点儿实事。在暮色降临之前(通常是之前很长时间),她们就爬上马车驶回自己的豪宅,撇下破旧的屋子,正如她们当年逃离这里去嫁给了富商们一样。她们把所有家务全丢给玛拉,玛拉在寒冷的长夜陪伴被关节痛折磨的母亲,还要帮着父亲做几乎所有的事——脑疾使得这位可怜的老人无法行走也无法照顾自己(尽管在他性急的时候训斥起玛拉还是相当利索)。

生活就这样遗忘了玛拉。她未来的时光不会有任何改变,只是日复一日重复着同样的琐事,直到这些工作压弯她的脊背,忧伤在她脸上刻下皱纹。有朝一日当她在清晨醒来,会发现自己几乎在一夜之间从风华正茂的青春少女变成了值得尊敬的老处女。她的青春将会消逝,她的美貌也一样。

但她还有我。我永远都在她身边。

问题是,她永远不会知道。

每天早晨我跟着她走上去井边的道路的时候我都这么想。我们活在两个不同的世界。我们之间没有未来。我心中充斥着的激情,我对玛拉的爱,将不可能越过那将我们分隔开的鸿沟——它太过广阔。我只能行走在她世界的边缘,享受着注视她,与她默默分享每一个日夜的喜乐。

你或许觉得这样的想法会令我性格灰暗,将我引向绝望。但玛拉正露出闪烁着希望之光的笑颜,如同之前每一次一样,拂去我心底所有的悲伤。她在想什么?她往井边走的时候为什么快乐得哼起歌来?一定发生了什么。在我上一次看见她——也就是我昨天晚上吹灭我的蜡烛前——之后,一定有某些事发生了——她听到了什么消息,或是来了一个亲戚。玛拉充满希望,而我为此神思恍惚。

就在我们转过拐角的时候,玛拉加快了步伐。她步履轻盈地跳向水边,而我骤然刹住了脚步。井栏下面躺着个什么东西。一开始它看起来就像一包破布,但紧接着我注意到了一只手一缕头发。

这是个人!

玛拉走过倒卧的人身旁,正如她从未注意到我一样。当她把吊桶放进井里的时候,我跑向那具躯体。他从哪里来?他是谁?也许是一位来自港口的军团兵(Legionnaires)?或是一名昨晚靠岸的贸易船上的水手?那些船员喝多了朗姆酒,简直会在睡倒之前就迷路拐到冰墙(Icewall)去。这一位只来得及走到这里还算幸运。

然而,当我走近那具身躯,我发现他并不是一名烂醉的船员。他的衣裳过于破旧,皮肤过于白皙(尽管他被严重晒伤)。我给那陌生人翻了个身,他遮盖了面容的头发垂落下来,露出细致的容貌和修长尖细的耳朵。一位精灵!

在这几个星期里,我们见过一些路过的精灵,由于军事总督孔纳声称所有忠诚的西瓦纳斯提精灵都必须回到他们的故土,我们所看见的精灵都是在匆匆返回森林的路上(虽然我听说,即使他们也无法通过精灵国度周围那道不可见的结界)。这位精灵看起来似乎独自在没有携带补给的情况下穿越了沙漠。我只能猜测他或许来自西瓦纳斯提,由于某种原因在那道屏障升起前离开那里逃进沙海。事实上那并不是特别远,但没有合适的衣物与足量的水,这仍然会是一趟死亡之旅。我察看那位精灵,发现他毫无疑问仍在人世,这时玛拉收回了她装满的吊桶,双手紧握着桶把手,把它从井上提下来。她无视精灵的苦楚与我的救援工作,转过拐角,径直走回她的家——这真是个好主意。

我无法就地帮助这位精灵。我必须把他带离烈日的曝晒,找一名治疗师来护理他的伤。我要把他安置在玛拉家里。在我去港口的那段时间,他待在那儿会很安全。法莱乌斯•塔尼克(Falaius Taneek)和他的军团一直想方设法帮助他人。而我真想不出有谁比这个可怜虫更需要帮助的了。


劇透 -   :
Shadow of the Mind: The Missing City, 11sc
 
Her name is Mala—well, that's what I call her, anyway. She's never corrected me, so I guess it doesn't 
bother her. But then nothing I do seems to bother her in the slightest. I walk with Mala to the well every morning 
as she fetches water for her family. We never talk. I'm not even sure she knows I'm there—I usually stay a few 
yards behind her, or I run ahead and just watch her pass by. It's a comfort just to be near her.
I've never seen such a beautiful woman in all my life. Not just physical beauty either (though I've never met 
anyone else whose merest smile caused my heart to ache); her spirit is just as beautiful as her face. Mala has 
rejected a handful of suitors because she can't leave her parents all alone.
Sometimes her sisters come to visit in their husbands' carriages; servants drive them down from the 
Garden District. They bring extravagances like fruit from Silvanesti, and they coddle and fawn over their aging 
parents, but they never do any real work around the house. And before night falls (usually long before), they 
climb into their carriages and ride back to their mansions, leaving behind the squalid home they escaped by 
finding rich merchants to marry. They leave Mala to do all the chores, to sit up with their mother when the cold 
night makes her joints ache, and to help their father do nearly everything—a brain seizure has left the poor old 
man unable to walk or take care of himself (though he's still quite practiced at berating Mala when he doesn't 
get his way quickly enough).
So life just passes Mala by. Her future days will be nothing but the same routine of chores until the work 
bends her back and the worry wrinkles her face. She'll wake up one morning to find herself transformed from a 
fair maiden to a venerable spinster virtually overnight. Her youth will disappear. Her looks will disappear, too. 
But she will still have me. Mala always will have me.
The trouble is, she'll never know.
I think about this as I follow her on the morning trip to the well. We live in two different worlds. There is no 
future for us, no hope that the passion in my heart, my love for Mala, will overcome the boundaries that keep us 
apart—they are too great. I can only walk along in the periphery of her world and take what joy I can from 
watching her and silently sharing her days and nights.
You'd think such thoughts would sour my disposition and lead me to despair. But Mala is smiling that 
hopeful grin she sometimes gets, and that wipes away all the sadness from my heart. What is she thinking? 
What makes her hum happily as she walks to the well? Something has happened. In the time between now 
and when I last saw her, just before I blew out my candle last night, something has occurred—some news has 
been delivered, or a revelation has been reached. Mala has hope, and I am delirious.
As we round the corner, Mala's gait speeds up. She fairly skips to the water, but I come to a dead stop. 
There's something lying at the foot of the well. At first it seems to be a bundle of rags, but then I notice a hand 
and a strand of hair.
It's a person!
Mala walks right by, taking as little notice of the prone form as she does me. While she lowers her bucket 
into the well, I run up to the body. Where did it come from? Who is it? Perhaps one of the Legionnaires from the 
port? Or a seaman frm that trading ship that put in last night? Put enough rum in one of those sailors and he'll 
wander halfway to Icewall before passing out. This one is lucky to have staggered only this far.
As I near the body, though, I realize this is no sailor sleeping off too much drink. His clothes are too 
threadbare, his skin too fair (though he's severely sunburned). Rolling him over, the stranger's hair falls away 
from his face revealing finely chiseled features and slender tapering ears. An elf!
We've seen a few elves passing in the weeks since Military Governor Konnal sent word that all loyal 
Silvanesti elves should return to their homeland, and the ones we have seen were all headed toward the forest 
as quickly as possible (though I hear that even they can't get through the invisible barrier that's gone up around 
the elf lands). This one looks like he's crossed the desert alone and unsupplied. I can only guess that he's 
coming from Silvanesti, that he somehow got out before the shield was raised and fled across the sands. It's 
not terribly far, but without the proper clothing and a sufficient supply of water, the trip still can be deadly.
While I check to see that the elf is indeed still among the living, Mala retrieves her full bucket, grips the 
handle with both hands, and carries it off. Completely oblivious to the elf's plight or my ministrations, she 
rounds the corner, heading for her house—a good idea.
There is nothing I can do for the elf here. I have to get him out of the sun and find a healer to tend to his 
wounds. I'll leave him at Mala's house. He'll be safe there while I go down to the port. Falaius Taneek and his 
Legionnaires are always looking for ways to help folks. I can't think of anyone who needs help more than this 
poor fellow.
« 上次编辑: 2013-08-14, 周三 22:39:13 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

离线 茶白猫小修

  • 骰神牧师
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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #8 于: 2013-07-15, 周一 20:02:42 »
*****
 
治疗师说得对,在几天的休息和大量清水的滋养后,这名精灵看起来好多了。他仍然没有苏醒——呃,没有完全苏醒。有几次他睁开眼睛,在幻梦中咕哝着各种各样的疯话。他说了很多关于“那场战争”(不过因为精灵的漫长寿命,我不大确定他说的是哪一场)和银龙们的事,甚至有一次他直勾勾地盯着我,管我叫“坦尼斯”。我确信,等他醒了,他一定有许多有趣的故事要讲。

但是等等——他的眼皮动了起来。我想我的客人终于恢复了意识。是的,没错,我知道这次他不是在做白日梦。他揉着眼,直到世界在他眼前再度聚焦。看啊,他环视着这间屋子,不确定自己身在何处,甚至不确信这一切是否只是一个梦。我最好别再呆坐在这阴影里,得去对他说点什么,可是待在这儿我能够最大限度地确认他的意图。这年头,必须得小心再小心。

精灵站起身,缓慢地穿过房间,带着毫不掩饰的惊讶注视着每一件物品。显然他甚至完全不明白自己身在哪个城市。他伸出手去,那只手笔直地穿过了摆在房间中央的椅子。

这太残酷了。我不该这样折磨他。但看着他试图解开谜底还挺有趣的。他是个幽魂吗?为何碰不到那把椅子?他是个富有教养、训练有素的精灵。尽管身处这样一个独特的(用某些人的话来说,不自然的)环境之中,他并不慌张。反之,他开始尝试着解释自己所看到的这一切。再稍微观察一会儿,然后我就——不!玛拉走进了房间,脸上仍然洋溢着充满希望的笑容。

精灵看见了她。“这究竟是个什么样的地方?”他问,伸手抓向她的肩。于是他的手,再是他的手臂,最后是他的全身,径直穿过了她。她继续做着自己的事儿,一丝一毫也没有注意到他的存在。

“她看不见你。”我在角落里说,最后,我还是从阴影中走到了烛光下。

“我……我死了吗?”精灵问。

“没有。”我笑了,“也许这是你的下一个问题,不过,玛拉也没有死。她只是身在别处。别问我这是为什么。这是这个盖-查-卡拉斯(Gal Tra'kalas)的自然现象。试着去习惯吧。”

在玛拉抱着一大叠浴巾忙忙碌碌地走出房间的时候,他一直瞪视着她,完全被自己看到的事实震惊了。

玛拉是如此生机勃勃,如此美丽,但在她穿过我们之间时,他仍然能透过她的身体看见我;她看起来比幻影更真实,却不完全属于这个世界。

“盖-查-卡拉斯?无踪之城!我怎么会在这儿?”

“如果你不知道,我想任何人都不可能知道了,朋友。”我试着安抚他。置身盖-查-卡拉斯的头几个小时相当令人迷惘,“坐。这床是真实的,我向你保证。过去几天里你在它上面睡得呼呼的。”

“那么,这是你的家?”精灵试着装得漫不经心,但他显然还是对自己的所见感到迷惑,多少有点心烦意乱。

“是的,我的家。不过同时也是她的家。这有点难以解释。”

一阵敲门声打破了这一尴尬的时刻。精灵转向我,似乎在问这敲门声是真是幻。

“是找我的——准确说,是找你的。”我站起身来走向前厅的大门,“你听不到玛拉那个世界传来的声音。”

我打开门,男人的巨大身躯几乎填满了门框。他就是法莱乌斯•塔尼克,史钢军团(Legion of Steel)本地组织的成员。他们维护港口,管理无踪之城(虽然盖-查-卡拉斯发生的幽灵现象与他们无关)。那位治疗师在完成了对精灵的救治之后告诉我,等这名精灵能够起床走动的时候,法莱乌斯打算向他核实一些事情。显然法莱乌斯无愧于他的名声,他总是在正确的时间出现在正确的地点。也可能,是因为那位治疗师对休养疗效的判断有着不寻常的天赋吧。

“日安,阿曼•道恩(Aman Daun)。”法莱乌斯以他一贯简练的礼节低沉地说。身为一个蛮子,他意外地彬彬有礼,自然,他的多礼从未奏效过。他似乎永远在控制自己的声线让它听上去更加礼貌,而最终,这只是进一步增强了他的压迫感(对于一个胳膊比最大的橡树还粗的男人来说实在太难了),“你的客人感觉好点了吗?”

“好多了。”我答道,做了个请的手势,把这名军团兵领进屋。我总感觉必须以自己对“温文儒雅”这个词最好的诠释来回应他那僵硬的礼仪,“事实上,他刚刚才醒过来不久。玛拉把他吓得不轻,我正在试图解释这个状况。”

“你不需要解释。”精灵恢复了他的睿智,走到门口迎接我们。我硬充的温雅在他的一举手一投足面前无所遁形——这名精灵一定习于与王者们结伴同行,“我听过盖-查-卡拉斯的传说。这座城市在第一次大灾变中被摧毁,但不知为何鬼影幢幢。建筑的幻象从废墟中拔地而起,受到生命那不自然的嘲弄的幽魂们在街道上游走如昔。”

啊,我忘了精灵们对不死生物是那么的深恶痛绝。当然,这些文化习俗与生命如此紧密相连的人民,自然会产生这样的情感。无法安眠的精魂会弄污它们染指的一切区域,从最青翠的地方吸取美和生机。

“你所知的传说不够完整,我的朋友。”我说,试图说服精灵放宽心。

“是的,”法莱乌斯用他令人镇静的低沉音调补充道,“盖-查-卡拉斯的人民也许鬼气森森,但他们并不是幽魂。没有任何一位路过这里的学者、秘术师或是贤者能够告诉我他们究竟是什么,但他们很显然不是不死的妖物。”

“胡说!我早就告诉过你无数遍了,他们是什么——以及他们是谁。”随着对话的进行我几乎失却了冷静。大家都不愿意相信事情的真相。

“是的阿曼,你有告诉过我。但是你得原谅我脑子太不灵光了,看不清真相,我只是个单纯的战士。魔法世界的运作机理让我一头雾水。”法莱乌斯试图安抚我。他并没有真正接受真相,只是为了我在假装相信。我想他认为我濒临疯癫的边缘,因此还是迁就我的那些“妄想”为好。

就在这时,玛拉抱着一大叠折得整整齐齐的衬衫,大步流星地(穿过法莱乌斯和精灵的身体)走过房间。她在干什么?也许她打算把旧衣服捐给慈善机构。这确实是她的行事风格。他们家不过勉强能揭得开锅,但她仍然希望帮助那些有需要的人。

“我得说,我对魔法有少许了解,但光是今天看见的这一点点,就已经超出了我的理解范畴。”精灵再度用手穿过一件家具,然后摇摇头苦笑着说。

“是的。”法莱乌斯利用这个词清了清嗓子。他可不打算在闲谈上多费工夫,“请原谅我的无礼,朋友,但既然你已经在阿曼的看护下恢复了健康,我有几个问题要问你,大部分是关于你是什么人,以及你是如何来到这座无踪之城的。”

“理应如此。我的名字是吉尔赛那斯•索拉斯特伦,很乐意为您效劳。”他一面说着,一面深深地鞠了个躬,随之而来的一阵晕眩几乎让他虚脱软瘫在我们脚边。“如果不是太麻烦的话,”他恢复平静之后说,“我们能否到另一个房间里去谈?我感觉我还没有完全从那段严苛的考验中恢复过来。”

我们回到卧室,吉尔赛那斯坐到一张帆布床的角上——在首先确认了朦胧的床单与毛毯下的确有个坚实的东西之后。除了间或袭来的一阵疲乏,他看上去挺好的。法莱乌斯盘腿坐在墙根,他左侧的肩膀和膝盖淹没在一只梳妆台的幻影中,我回到我所习惯的阴暗墙角。

吉尔赛那斯讲着他的故事,那充满了与长枪英雄的身份相称的阴谋和冒险的故事。这段时间里,玛拉继续在房屋里四下穿梭,把她家的各种杂物打包装进布包、麻袋,还有一个小小的箱子。我发现自己的注意力渐渐从吉尔赛那斯的故事上偏移开去,最后彻底消散。她在做什么?

终于,当吉尔赛那斯开始讲述他逃离必死命运的痛苦旅程,玛拉走了进来,掀走他坐的那张床上的被褥(他和法莱乌斯都觉得那些玩意儿挺烦人的)。然而,她没有如从前每周所做的那样换上新的亚麻床单。她只是把被褥卷成一堆,抱到另一个房间去,看到这一幕,我的忍耐到了极限。精灵正讲到他痛苦而仓促的沙漠飞行之旅,但我把他抛在脑后,跟着玛拉冲进大屋。

这个家庭的全部财产都打好了包,堆放在门口。玛拉的母亲给装着她为数不多的几件首饰的手巾包打了个结,然后把它像腰带一样系在腰间。她父亲坐在一只桶上,那张熟悉的阴沉面孔也不像平时那么严厉了。与此同时,玛拉跑上跑下地确认每件行李都封严实了。她的双唇片刻不停,显然是在为这一切高兴得滔滔不绝——不管那是什么事吧。他们很明显是正要去某个地方,但那是什么地方呢?这不像是一趟短途旅行——他们带走了所有能带的东西。

他们一定是在搬家!

也许玛拉的某个姐姐最终决定把她们的双亲接到她丈夫的豪宅去住。更可能的是,丈夫觉得让他的妻子频繁造访这小镇贫民区太过丢脸,为姻亲们支付了搬迁的费用。他们终将得到应得的照顾和关怀。我想,玛拉的辛勤劳动终于有了回报。

但玛拉会和他们一起走吗?显然她的任何一个姐姐都不会想独力照顾她们的双亲。她们会带走玛拉,让她继续做他们的保姆。

我把自己的小屋分毫不差地建在她家的土地上,是为了让我们能更接近彼此,然后,玛拉就要离开我了吗?的确,无论她住在盖-查-卡拉斯的哪个角落,我都能去看望她,但我要花费数月,乃至数年的时间来重建自己的房屋。想想吧,那造价该多么昂贵啊,因为她的新房一定比现在的要宽绰得多。

但如果在无踪之城的那一处,已经有另一个人建立了自己的房屋呢?要知道花园区那边是最受商人与军团官员欢迎的居住地之一。如果那个姐姐的房子已经被那个臭气熏天的库尔族(Khurrish)捕兽人占领了该怎么办?或是更糟,占领她家的是那个头发灰白的军团斥候?那个好色的老痞子会把观看玛拉洗澡当做打发时间的消遣,或是拿她步履蹒跚地在家中行走的母亲做练习瞄准的标靶!我不能容忍这种事发生!

无论现在住在那儿的是谁,都必须给我搬出去。在整个盖-查-卡拉斯有那么多尚未重建的房子呢。我自己来帮他们盖,可是玛拉必须和我在一起!我无法忍受我们的分离。

看啊,她如此欢快地四处穿梭,完全没有意识到这为我带来的痛苦。噢,玛拉,哪怕我能和你交谈呢。哪怕你能告诉我究竟发生了什么。然而等一下!她从她的围裙口袋里掏出了一张纸,把它打开了。读着它,她的面颊上闪耀着喜乐和期待。它上面写了些什么?

我跑过去,从她的肩头上偷看,但她跳着舞,从大屋一直跳到了厨房里。我跟过去,发现厨房太暗了,根本没法辨认那些文字,但玛拉没有丢下那张纸,即使在黑暗中她仍然凝视着它。那些文字是如此令人喜悦,哪怕闭着眼她也能读出来。

那张纸上写了些什么?它看上去像一封信。她姐姐何必写信来告诉她这个消息?也许他们并不是搬去玛拉的姐姐那儿。可是他们还能搬去哪里?玛拉为什么这么开心?

她回到卧室,我寸步不离地跟着她。吉尔赛那斯的故事正接近尾声。他正在回忆在沙漠中旅行一整个昼夜后看到这城市的情景。

“在西瓦纳斯提的监狱里经历了如此漫长的岁月之后,穿越沙漠的旅程几乎要了我的命。当我看到那口井的时候,我已经渴得神志不清了。井水就在我眼前,我甚至看到有人在喝水,但我发现那全都是一场虚无的幻梦,那一刻我失去了知觉。等我清醒过来……”

吉尔赛那斯的声音戛然而止,因为我匆匆忙忙地从他面前跑过,冲向梳妆台。为了把另一堆毛巾拢到一起,玛拉放下了那张纸。现在我能看到了……


劇透 -   :
*****
 
The healer was right, after a few days of rest and lots of water, the elf is looking much better. He still hasn't 
awakened—well, not fully. He's opened his eyes a few times and mumbled all sorts of crazy things in his sleep. 
He's talked quite a bit about "the war" (though with the long lives that elves lead, I can't really be sure which 
war he's talking about) and silver dragons, and he even looked me square in the eye and called me "Tanis." I'm 
sure that when he wakes up, he'll have some interesting tales to tell.
But wait—his eyelids are fluttering. I think my guest is finally conscious. Yes. Yes, I can see this is no 
waking dream he's having. He rubs his eyes as the world swims into focus. Look at him, gazing around the 
room unsure of where he is, not even certain whether or not this is a dream. I should speak to him instead of 
sitting back in the shadows, but this is the best way to determine his intentions. You can't be too careful these 
days.
The elf stands and walks slowly across the room, staring at everything with undisguised wonder. He clearly 
doesn't even know what city he's in. Reaching out, his hand passes straight through the chair standing in the 
middle of the room.
This is cruel. I shouldn't torture him so. But it is fascinating to watch him try to puzzle it out. Is he a ghost? 
Why can't he touch the chair? He's an educated and well-trained one, this elf. Despite the peculiar (some 
would say unnatural) surroundings, he doesn't panic. Instead, he tries to think of an explanation for the 
phenomenon he sees. I'll just watch another moment before I—no! Mala enters the room, that same hopeful 
smile on her face.
The elf sees her. "What manner of place is this?" he asks and reaches out to grab her shoulders. First his 
hands, then arms, and finally the whole of his body passes straight through her. And she goes about her 
business, taking no notice of him in the least.
"She cannot see you," I say from the corner, finally stepping out of the shadows and into the candlelight.
"Am... am I dead?" the elf asks.
"No." I laugh. "And before you ask, neither is Mala. She's just somewhere else. Don't ask me to explain it. 
That's simply how things are here in Gal Tra'kalas. Get used to it."
He stares atala as she bustles out of the room with an armful of towels, clearly amazed at what he sees. 
She's full of life and beauty, but as Mala passes between us, he still can see me through her body; she's more 
real than a phantom, but not fully of this world.
"Gal Tra'kalas? The Missing City! How did I get here?"
"If you don't know, then I'm not sure anyone does, friend." I try to calm him. The first few hours in Gal 
Tra'kalas can be very disorienting. "Sit down. The bed is quite real, I assure you. You slept soundly on it these 
past few days."
"This is your home, then?" The elf tries to act casual, but he's obviously still disoriented and more than a 
little distracted by what he sees.
"Yes, mine. But hers as well. It's a little difficult to explain."
A knock on the front door breaks the awkward moment. The elf turns to me as if to ask if that's a real knock 
or a phantom one.
"That's for me—or more likely for you." I get up and move to the door in the front room. "You can't hear 
anything that goes on in Mala's world."
When I open the door, the frame is filled with a giant of a man. This is Falaius Taneek, leader of the local 
Legion of Steel cell. They maintain the port and govern the Missing City (though they have no influence on the 
spectral happenings in Gal Tra'kalas). After the healer finished with the elf, he told me Falaius likely would 
check on things when the elf was up and around. Apparently Falaius deserves his reputation for always being 
in the right place at the right time. Either that or the healer has an uncommon gift for judging recuperative 
powers.
"Good day, Aman Daun" Falaius rumbles with his usual terse formality. For a barbarian, he's terribly 
well-mannered, but it never comes off naturally; he always seems to be forcing civility into his voice, and, in the 
end, it makes him seem all the more imposing (quite a trick for a man whose shoulders spread wider than the 
broadest oak tree). "Is your house guest feeling better?"
"Very much so," I answer and invite the Legionnaire into my home with a flourish of my arm. I always feel 
the need to respond to his stiff courtesy with my best interpretation of courtly grace. "In fact, he just awakened. 
Mala put quite a scare into him, and I've been trying to explain the situation."
"No explanation is necessary." The elf has gathered his wits and comes to meet us at the door. My sham of 
courtly behavior is evident by his every move—this elf is used to moving in the company of kings. "I know the 
tale of Gal Tra'kalas. The city was destroyed in the first Cataclysm, yet somehow clung to spectral life. 
Phantom buildings rose from the rubble, and ghosts continued walk its streets in an unnatural mockery of life."
Ah, I forgot how deeply elves detest the undead. Of course, such feelings are only natural for a people 
whose culture is so closely tied to life. Restless spirits foul any area they touch, leaching the beauty and life 
from the most verdant site.
"You do not know the tale well enough, my friend" I say, trying to put the elf at ease.
"True," adds Falaius in his soothingly deep voice. "The people of Gal Tra'kalas may be ghostly, but they are 
not ghosts. None of the scholars, mystics, or sages who've passed this way can tell me what they are, but they 
are clearly not undead monsters."
"Bah! I've told you time and again what they are—who they are." I always lose my patience when we have 
this conversation. No one wants to believe the truth of the matter.
"Yes, Aman, you have. Forgive me for being so thick-headed that I cannot see the truth, but I am just a 
simple warrior. The workings of the magical world confuse me." Falaius tries to placate me. He doesn't really 
accept the truth, but for my sake, he pretends. I believe he thinks I'm on the brink of madness and it's best to 
humor my "delusions."
Just then, Mala strides through the room (and through both Falaius's and the elf's bodies) carrying a bundle 
of neatly folded shirts. What's she doing? Perhaps she's going to donate old clothing to the poo. That would 
be just like her. They barely can afford to put food on the table, yet she still wants to give to the needy.
"I must say, I know some small bit about magic, but even the little I've seen today is beyond my ken." The elf 
again passes his hand through a piece of furniture, then shakes his head wryly.
"Yes." Falaius uses the word to clear his throat. He's not one to waste time in idle conversation. "Forgive my 
lack of manners, friend, but now that Aman has brought you back to health, I have some questions that need 
answering, most of them concerning who you are and how you arrived in the Missing City."
"Of course. My name is Gilthanas Solostaran, and I am at your service." With this, he bows deeply and is 
overcome by a wave of dizziness, nearly collapsing in a heap at our feet. "If it is not too much of an imposition," 
he asks after regaining his composure, "may we continue in the other room? I believe I have not yet recovered 
fully from my ordeal."
We return to the bedroom where Gilthanas sits on the corner of the cot—only after making sure there truly 
was a solid object under the hazy blanket and sheets. Apart from occasional bouts of fatigue, he seems to be 
fine. Falaius sits cross-legged against the wall, his left shoulder and knee swallowed up by a phantom dressing 
table, and I return to my accustomed spot in the dark corner.
As Gilthanas tells his tale, filled with intrigue and adventure befitting a Hero of the Lance, Mala continues to 
flit around the house bundling more and more of her family's worldly goods into towels, sacks, and even a 
small crate. I find that my attention to Gilthanas's story wavers, then disappears entirely. What is she up to?
Finally, while Gilthanas describes a harrowing escape from certain death, Mala enters and strips the bed on 
which he sits (something both he and Falaius find particularly distracting). However, she doesn't lay fresh 
sheets on the bed, as she does every week when changing the linen. When she merely gathers up the 
bedding and carries it into the other room, I can take no more. I leave behind the elf's account of a harrowing, 
headlong flight into the desert and follow Mala into the main room.
Practically everything the family owns is packed and stacked near the doorway. Mala's mother ties a knot in 
a towel containing the few pieces of jewelry she owns, then cinches the towel around her waist like a belt Her 
father sits on a barrel, his familiar scowl much less severe than usual. Meanwhile, Mala runs about making 
sure that all the packages are sealed tight. Her lips never rest all the while; she obviously is bubbling happily 
about the reason for all this activity—whatever that is. Obviously, they are going somewhere, but where? This 
is more than a short excursion— they're taking everything they can carry.
They must be moving!
Perhaps one of Mala's sisters finally has offered to bring their parents to live in her husband's mansion. 
More likely, the husband has decided that it is too embarrassing to have his wife visit this dilapidated section of 
town and so has paid for his in-laws to relocate. They'll finally get the comfort and care that they deserve. I 
knew Mala's hard work would be rewarded.
But will Mala move with them? Surely neither of her sisters would want to have to tend the parents herself. 
They will have to bring Mala with them to continue to act as their care-taker.
After I built my home literally within hers, just so that we can be close to one another, is Mala going to leave 
me? Certainly, I can visit her wherever in Gal Tra'kalas she goes, but it will take me months, possibly even 
years to rebuild. And just think how expensive it will be, since the new home is sure to be much more opulent 
that this one.
But what if someone else already has built a home in that part of the Missing City? The Garden District is 
one of the most popular locales for merchants and Legion officers to live. What if the sister's home already has 
been claimed by that foul-smelling Khurrish trapper? Ororse, that gray-haired Legion scout? That lecherous 
old ruffian will spend his idle time watching Mala bathe, or taking target practice at her mother hobbling around 
the house! I will not stand for such things!
Whoever lives there now simply will have to move. There are plenty of Gal Tra'kalan homes that have not 
yet been reconstructed. I'll do the work for them myself, but Mala and I must stay together! I cannot bear for us 
to be apart.
Look at her. Flitting around so happily, completely unaware of the agony this causes me. Oh, Mala, if only 
I could talk to you. If only you could tell me what's happening. But wait! She takes a piece of paper out of her 
apron pocket and opens it up. As she reads it, her face flushes with joy and anticipation. What does it say?
I rush to look over her shoulder, but she dances out of the room and into the kitchen. Following her, I find 
that it's too dark to read anything in there, but Mala doesn't put the paper away; she gazes at it even in the dark. 
The words are so joyous, she can read them with her eyes closed.
What could be on that paper? It looked like a letter. Why would her sister send a letter with the news? 
Perhaps they aren't moving in with one of Mala's sisters. But why else would they be moving? And why would 
Mala be so happy?
I follow close on her heels as she goes back into the bedroom where Gilthanas's story is reaching its 
conclusion. He recalls seeing the city after a day and night in the desert.
"After so long in a Silvanesti prison, the crossing nearly killed me. I was half-crazed with thirst when I saw 
that well. And when I could see the water, even watch people drink it, but found that it was all ephemeral as a 
dream, I fell unconscious. The next thing I knew ..."
Gilthanas's voice trails off as I rush hurriedly past him over to the dresser. Mala laid the paper down in order 
to gather another bundle of towels. Now I can read ...
« 上次编辑: 2013-08-14, 周三 22:42:02 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #9 于: 2013-07-16, 周二 16:06:12 »
*****

我听到舒心的喃喃细语,有谁在低声交谈。良久,那对话逐渐清晰起来。我听出那是吉尔赛那斯和法莱乌斯。他们不在这个房间里,不过就在附近。

“我得说,我对这个地方的自然现象仍然不大理解。” 我听到吉尔赛那斯说。他的声音透露出,他仍然无法确定眼前虚幻的市民们究竟是不是不死的幽魂。他在等着玛拉和她的家人们忽然脱下伪装,现出“吸取生命的恶魔”的真面目。

“我想,没有谁会理解。”法莱乌斯回答。

“我的那位东道主似乎自认为洞悉了某些不为人知的真相。”

“你要原谅阿曼,”军团兵说,“一旦涉及到那个被他叫做玛拉的女子,他的洞察力——我不知道这样说是否适当——就变弱了。”是的,他当然会这么说。法莱乌斯在这儿生活了许多年,但他从未真正接受过盖-查-卡拉斯的本真。

“尽管当时脱水损害了你的视力,你对无踪之城的反应还是相当正常的。大部分人看见沙漠高热中摇曳的高塔和围墙时,都以为眼前是海市蜃楼。然而,当他们走近,发现了建筑物惊人的细节,和那些鬼魅般的居民,就转而相信这整座城市是一场巨大的幻象——制造它的是一名许多年前死去的法师,甚或就是诸神自己。”

“是的,”吉尔赛那斯进一步肯定,“我也得出了同样的结论,尽管没有任何我所知的法师——无论身披什么颜色的外袍——能够创造出这样的现象。”

“但事实更加不可思议。这片蜃景千真万确就是盖-查-卡拉斯。”法莱乌斯的声音里蕴含着一种我从未听到过的惊异,也许他的确理解周遭这一切的伟大之处,“我能告诉你的是,这座城市属于另一个世界,在那里第一次大灾变从未发生。我不打算假装明白这是为什么,但我们所看到的市民是真实存在的。如果那仅仅是幻影,绝不会如此复杂。他们出生,成长,恋爱,死亡,就像你所认识的任何人一样。那座城市也是活生生的……呃,就像任何一座城市一样鲜活。一些建筑物拔地而起,另一些被夷为平地。商店开业,日渐繁荣。动物们在后街跑来跑去寻觅着残羹。如果你肯下功夫留意某个特定的建筑,某个特定的人,或是家庭,你会发现,毫无疑问一段生活的韵律正在你眼前展开。别怀疑这一点,盖-查-卡拉斯是真实的。”

“如果是这样,”吉尔赛那斯高声发问,“谁能忍受在这里生活下去?”这名精灵一生经历过许多怪事,但我敢说除了诸神的回归之外,这一桩必然是其中最为离奇的。

“呃,我们之前并不知情。在我的军团刚来到这儿的时候,这儿只有海市蜃楼和满城的废墟——断壁残垣和堆积如山的瓦砾,半掩在幻象之中,我们也把这幻象错看成了盖-查-卡拉斯魔幻般的重建。我们的部族管这块地方叫无踪之城,看起来这里很适合建个前哨站。我们打算在幻影背后盖起建筑,尽最大努力让外墙与他们的建筑物合拍,不贴近观察就无法发现我们的存在。那样,我们就有了一个谁也找不到的城镇——真正的无踪之城。”

尽管我对这段故事知根知底,我还是躺在这儿,听着法莱乌斯说下去。帆布床很舒适,我感到有点儿轻微的头晕。见鬼,我不记得自己什么时候上了床。

“我们在这儿住了几个月,才有人开始怀疑真相。当我们确认这一点时,前哨站早已发展成了城镇。在被‘占用’的城区里的大多数建造工程都停止了。等你身体再好点儿,可以去码头看看,你会发现那些最新的建筑都在盖-查-卡拉斯城的范围之外。”

吉尔赛那斯咀嚼着那段话的含义:“那么,那些已经在影之城中建立家园的人呢?”

“他们各有各的选择。”军团兵不置可否地说,“许多人搬走了,但军团还留在原来的屋子里。至少,那些‘幻之民(phantom folk)’——我的一些部下这么称呼他们——看不到、听不到、也碰不到我们。”

“当然,大部分市民都选择搬走。尤其是那些富商,他们觉得与别人分享私宅是一件非常不爽的事。即使那些‘别人’不是这个克莱恩世界的住民。”

“但还有一部分人选择了留下?”

“显然如此。他们中的大部分就只是单纯地不接受这个事实,把盖-查-卡拉斯的市民看做幻影。令他们引以自豪的是邻居们都被区区的光影把戏吓跑,而他们仍然留在自己家里。不过还有一些人,比如你的救命恩人阿曼,认为他们是完全真实的。他们将自己的生活建立在来自两个世界的住民中间,两个世界对他们而言同样重要。我的部下把这群人称为‘影行者(shadow walkers)’,因为他们走在两个世界的边缘。而其他许多人直接管他们叫疯子。”

“就是说,阿曼认为,这间屋子里的人们——玛拉和她的双亲——都是真实的了?”

“不仅是真实的。对他而言他们亲如家人。至于玛拉嘛……呃,我想我从未如他爱着那名幻之女性那样强烈地爱过任何人。”

我震惊了。不仅为法莱乌斯对这座城市的理解是如此之深,也为他同样深深理解着我。我总以为他像其他人那样在我身后窃窃私语,嘲笑我对玛拉的感情。我得去向他道歉。

我从床上坐起身,感到一阵天旋地转。我的脑袋后边有个匕首柄大小的包。发生了什么事?

“是的,”吉尔赛那斯叹息道,“我能理解。他的生活和我这些年来所经历的如此相像。他唯一在乎的人是无法触碰的。而令我在乎的则是回忆——心灵之影——同样的不真实,同样无法触碰。我不时会倾向于相信那一切才是现实,而我周围的监牢只是一场反复重现的噩梦。西瓦纳斯提充满了那样的回忆。”

“但盖-查-卡拉斯的市民并不是回忆,” 法莱乌斯强调,“他们确实在这儿,与我们一样,同是无踪之城的一部分。”

“对我们的朋友而言,有什么比无法分清梦境与现实更糟的?”精灵打断了他,“我们必须弄醒他。”

法莱乌斯咂咂舌,像他每次遇到难题时那样:“我想,让他睡一觉是更为仁慈的决定。他什么也做不了。亲眼目睹这一幕对他来说太痛苦了。”

出了什么事?难道玛拉的父亲又抽风了?还是他过世了?我们都知道这件事有朝一日一定会发生,但我们都还没做好接受它的心理准备。

“如果阿曼必须永失所爱,我们最好给他个机会告别。在未来的岁月里,他将从这个结局中得到慰藉。否则,这会给他留下永不痊愈的伤口。”

玛拉?玛拉是不是出了什么事?以离去的诸神之名,不要啊!

我双腿发软地站了起来。

要是她快死了,我必须到她身边去。为了她,我必须去那儿陪着她——即使她感觉不到。

“如果他们离开这座城市会怎么样?”吉尔赛那斯问。

法莱乌斯再度咂咂舌,没有给出明确的答案:“人们经常离开盖-查-卡拉斯。他们走过城门的瞬间就消失了。谁知道那以后他们去了哪儿呢?定期往来的行商人,归来时总是满载着一车车来自西瓦纳斯提或诺德马(Nordmaar)的货物。他们真的去过那些地方吗?谁知道呢?也许在我们那幽灵般的邻居的世界里,还有另一个完整的安塞隆大陆等着他们去探索。因为玛拉的事,我希望确实如此,虽然这对阿曼来说不大好受。”

离开这座城市?

我想起来了!

让玛拉如此兴奋的那张纸条是一张邀请函,邀她的全家搬到舒尔(Shoole)去和她的姑姑一块儿住。他们要离开这座城市。这个消息对我来说太过分了。我想我一定是晕了过去,所以后脑才撞了个包。我失去意识有多长时间了?这有什么关系!有关系的是:玛拉就要离开了!

我必须阻止她!

我的双腿已经动了起来。我跌跌撞撞地冲出我的家门——我们的家门。吉尔赛那斯和法莱乌斯瞪着我,就好像我是只野兽似的。也许我就是。我的心跳得像一只嗅到了狐狸气味的野兔那么快。马车转过拐角,我敢肯定,拉车的是玛拉的姐姐送给他们的马——把她们丢脸的穷亲戚永远送出这座城市的低廉代价。

我发现了吉尔赛那斯。看得出,他明白我全身奔流的恐慌。“想做就做吧,”他的眼神像是在说,“反正到头来全是徒劳。”

与此同时,法莱乌斯一脸悲哀地向我走来。他举起一只大手,显然打算同情地搂住我的肩。尽管这或许是发自内心的安慰,但我想他的真实意图是把我按在这儿,直到为时过晚。

在法莱乌斯来得及搂住我之前,我沿着街道狂奔而去。玛拉要去舒尔,那么她的马车走北门。这儿离北门只有几个街区之遥。走大道我绝对追不上马,但我有一项优势:我并不生活在盖-查-卡拉斯——我活在无踪之城!

我在街区中段右转,直扎进蜡烛店的门墙。跨过一堆曾组成锅炉的残砖碎瓦,我从店后方穿出,踏上了横越整个北区的小街。吉尔赛那斯追不上我,因为在那场严苛的考验之后,他的身子还太虚弱。在大多数情况下,追上并压制我对法莱乌斯而言毫无压力,但他不如我熟悉无踪之城的这条捷径。他不知道哪些幻象建筑易于穿越,哪些又隐藏着危险的瓦砾堆,甚至无盖的地窖。不,我那好心的朋友们必须取道大街,就像玛拉一样。

穿越褐色狮鹫旅店(Tan Griffin Inn ),绕过驿站(它是没法通过的,因为商人重建了巨大的谷仓),我望见北门就在前头。我在大街上狂奔,没头没脑地穿过盖-查-卡拉斯的人群。我平时总是用对待无踪之城实体市民的礼仪对待他们,但如今我笔直地穿过阻拦我道路的每个人跑了过去。

我停在城门口,回望街道。什么也没有。没有马车,也没有玛拉。和平日一样,只有虚幻的行人熙熙攘攘。莫非我误读了那张字条?也许她决定改走西门?我可没法及时赶到那里。

在我的担忧加剧成恐慌之前,一辆两匹马拉的平板马车转过了街角。驾着它们缓慢前行的正是我的玛拉,一脸迫不及待的笑意。

“不!”我大叫起来,前后大幅挥舞着双臂,“玛拉,停一停!别走!别丢下我!”

我知道她听不见,但我必须抓住这个机会。我像个疯子般狂喊着——大家都以为我早就疯了。

这时法莱乌斯和吉尔赛那斯转过了街角。我透过马车看到他们向我跑来,担心我做出什么伤害自己的事(尽管我也无法想象我会做些什么)。

尽管我又是喊又是挥,玛拉还是驾着她的马车径直地穿过了我。当然,她当然会这么做的。不然还想怎样?

我跪倒在尘土飞扬的鬼街上。

同伴们跑到我身边,而我转过头去,凝望着玛拉,我唯一的真爱,她即将消逝于虚空。

她停下马车,放下缰绳,转身最后一次回望自己的家园。玛拉脸上绽开了一个希望洋溢的微笑,一个允诺幸福未来的微笑,她挥手作别。

我挥手回应,惊讶得说不出话来。我知道她看不见我,但这毫无关系。

她捡起缰绳,催马远去。一步,两步,三步……她的身影在飞旋的砂粒中渐渐淡去。玛拉走了。我举头向天,对着无云的青空发出哀嚎。

这世上从此空无一人。我恒久孤单。倘若沙漠像它吞噬玛拉那样吞噬我该多好。“我一无所有了。”我向风儿低诉。而唯一的回答是——一只手温柔地搁在了我的肩上。

吉尔赛那斯单膝跪在我身边,他脸上写满了痛苦的回忆。法莱乌斯站在后面,给我们留出私密的空间,但他也没有离得太远,随时准备在必要时出手阻拦。

“你还有你的回忆,阿曼吾友。那是我们终其一生惟一真正拥有的东西。”

“回忆?关于什么的回忆?她从来就不是真实的!我花费了这么长的岁月追求一个女子,而她甚至不比一缕青烟更真实。吉尔赛那斯,也许你曾与诸神结伴而行,但你不可能明白我的感受。”

“我不明白?”他收回搁在我肩上的手,站起身来,用一种父亲看任性幼童的眼光俯视着我,“你只不过是失去了你的爱人,每个人或早或晚都要经历这种痛楚。对任何人来说,这苦痛都绝不轻微,既不取决于你们是相处过几个月还是共度终生,也不取决于你们是否曾在一起——或者说是否曾真正在一起。不要用从前犯过的错误自寻烦恼——它们与横亘在你面前的情绪深渊毫无关联。

“你的心上如今有一道深深的伤口。它终将自愈,但这需要时间。你打算明智地度过这段时间吗?你会回味那些甜蜜的瞬间,将其余的部分忘在脑后吗?这样做,可以抚平你心头的伤痕。”

我猛然转向精灵。这一切都不是他的错,但他给了我一个发泄怒气的标靶。

“要是我不希望它自愈呢?”我咆哮道。

吉尔赛那斯悲伤地望着我。

“那么你有两种选择。你可以选择待在这儿,沉浸在回忆中,看着往常熟悉的一切,做着你往常所做的事。这是个切实阻止你心灵痊愈的好办法,不过正如许多前人已经证实的那样,痛楚永不会消褪。或者,你也可以试图努力去寻找你的心之碎片,把它安放回正确的地方。”

我发出一声嘲讽的冷笑。

“那是不可能的,你知道。”

“也许,”吉尔赛那斯微笑起来,“但不见得比寻找一条自身希望永不露面的银龙更加不可能。”

我大笑着说:“而你已经以身作则地告诉我们这个办法有多管用了,你在西瓦纳斯提的监狱里待了多少年?”

“足够长,”精灵指出,“足够我与自己的过去和解,并把它抛在脑后。在那些日子里,唯一支持着我活下去的就是我的回忆。而如今我自由了,我为未来而活。阿曼,你又打算为什么而活呢,未来,还是过去?”

“未来,”我不确定地说。他说得对,从前发生过的事并不重要。玛拉已经走了,我无论做什么也无法改变这个事实。珍存这段爱,把它当做构建未来的基础,是纪念这段过往的最好形式。只要我仍然忠于自己的感受,玛拉就永远在我身边,“你不再为回忆而困扰了吗?”

吉尔赛那斯沉默了一瞬。我想他不确定该如何回答这个问题:“或许它们仍在困扰我,但它们不再支配我了。有许多更要紧的事等着我去做。身为奎灵纳斯提的王子,我对我的人民负有使命。”

“那么,当你的使命完结之时,”我问,“你又将为什么而活呢?”

法莱乌斯感到我们的谈话将近尾声,他大步向前,扶我站起来。

“我的使命将永不完结。”精灵坚定地说。他望着滚滚沙尘,不愿直视我的目光,“终我一生。”

“那么,你是一个比我更加悲哀的生灵。”


劇透 -   :
*****
 
I can hear the comforting drone of hushed conversation long before the words become clear. It's Gilthanas 
and Falaius. They're not in this room, but they are nearby.
"I must say, I still don't understand the nature of this place," I hear Gilthanas say. He still isn't certain that 
the spectral people he sees aren't undead spirits; you can hear it in his voice. He expects for Mala and her 
family to suddenly give up their charade and reveal themselves to be life-draining fiends.
"I'm not sure anyone does" Falaius answers.
"My host seems to think he has an insight others cannot perceive."
"You must forgive, Aman" the Legionnaire says. "His sense of perspective is, shall we say, impaired when 
it comes to the woman he calls Mala." Yes. He would say that. Falaius has spent many years living here, but 
he has never truly accepted Gal Tra'kalas for what it is.
"Though you were half-blind with dehydration, your reaction to the Missing City was quite normal. Most 
people see the towers and walls waving in the desert heat and assume they are seeing a mirage. However, 
when they get here and see the amazing detail in the buildings and even the ghostly inhabitants, people 
change their minds, believing instead that the city is all one tremendous illusion cast by a long dead sorcerer, 
or perhaps even by the gods themselves."
"Yes," Gilthanas adds with authority. "I came to that conclusion myself, though I know no sorcerer of any 
robes who could create such an effect."
"But the truth is even more fantastic. The mirage really is Gal Tra'kalas." Falaius has a sense of wonder in 
his voice that I've never heard before. Perhaps he does understand the grandeur around him. "As near as I can 
tell, the city belongs to a world where the first Cataclysm didn't happen. I don't pretend to understand how it is 
possible, but the people we see are real. They are far too complex to be simple illusions. They are born, grow, 
fall in love, and die just like anyone you know. The city is alive too ... well, as alive as any city is. Buildings are 
built, others are razed. Businesses open and prosper. Anials run the back alleys looking for scraps of food. If 
you make it your business to pay attention to a particular building or person or family, you'll see the 
unmistakable rhythm of life unfold before you. Make no mistake about it, Gal Tra'kalas is real."
"If that is true," Gilthanas wonders aloud, "then how can anyone bear to live here?" The elf has faced many 
strange things in his life, but I dare say that other than the return of the gods, this must be the most bizarre.
"Well, we didn't know. When the Legion first came here, there was only the mirage and a city's worth of 
ruins—crumbled walls, and mountains of brick and mortar debris half-hidden by the mirage, which we too 
mistook for a magical reconstruction of Gal Tra'kalas. My tribe has always called this spot the Missing City, and 
it seemed like an ideal place to build an outpost. If we built exactly behind the illusion, doing our best to 
recreate the facades of the buildings, only the closest inspection would reveal our presence. We'd have a town 
that no one could find—truly a Missing City."
Even though I know the story backward and forward, I lie here listening to Falaius. The cot is comfortable, 
and I feel a little light-headed. Odd. I don't remember going to bed.
"It was only after we'd been here several months that anyone began to suspect the truth. And by the time 
we were certain, our outpost had grown into a town. Most people stopped building in the 'occupied' sections of 
town. When you feel well enough to come down to the pier, you'll see that the newest buildings all stand just 
past the end of Gal Tra'kalas's city limits."
Gilthanas considers what he's heard. "And the people who already built their homes in the shadow city?"
"Each made a choice" the Legionnaire says noncommittally. "Many of them relocated, but the Legion 
maintained their original building. After all, the 'phantom folk,' as some of my men call them, can't see, hear, or 
touch anything of ours.
"Of course, most of the civilians chose to move. The wealthy merchants in particular were uncomfortable 
with the notion of sharing their homes with others, even if those others are not of this Krynn."
"But there are others who chose to stay?"
"Obviously. Most of them simply refuse to accept the people of Gal Tra'kalas as anything other than 
illusions. They take pride in the fact that they maintained their homes while their neighbors were run off by 
mere tricks of the light. But others, like your benefactor, Aman, consider them wholly real. They build their lives 
around people from both worlds, neither more or less important than the other. My men call these folks 
'shadow walkers,' because they tread the edge of two worlds. Most others just call them crazy."
"So the people in this house—Mala and her parents—are real to Aman?"
"They're more than real. They are his family. And Mala . . . well, let's just say that I don't think I've ever felt 
as strongly about anyone as he does for that ghostly woman."
I'm shocked. Not only does Falaius understand the city, but he also understands me. I always thought he 
snickered behind my back like the rest of them, mocking my feelings for Mala. I have to apologize to him.
I sit up on the bed, and the room spins. I have a lump on the back of my head the size of a dagger's pommel. 
What happened?
"Yes," Gilthanas sighs, "I understand. His life is very similar to the one I've led these past years. The only 
things that matter to him are untouchable. For me, they were memories—shadows of the mind—but no less 
real because I too could not touch them. At times, it was easier to believe they were reality and my cell was a 
recurring nightmare. Silvanesti is full of those memories."
"But the people of Gal Tra'kalas are not memories," Falaius replies. "They are here, as much a part of the 
Missing City as we are."
"And how much the worse for our friend if he cannot separate his dream from his waking world?" the elf 
pauses. "We ought to awaken him for this."
Falaius clicks his tongue, as he always does whenwrestling with a difficult question. "I think it may be 
kinder to let him sleep. There's nothing he can do. Watching this would be too painful."
What's wrong? Did Mala's father have another seizure? Did he die? We all knew it was coming, but no one 
is ever prepared for such a thing.
"If Aman must lose the one he loves, it's best that we afford him the opportunity to bid her farewell. In the 
years to come, he will draw solace from the closure. Otherwise, this will be a wound that never heals."
Mala? Has something happened to Mala? By all the departed gods, no!
I stand on uncertain legs.
If she's dying I must go to her. I have to be there for her, with her—even if she doesn't know it.
"What will happen when they leave the city?" Gilthanas asks.
Another tongue click announces that Falaius doesn't have a definite answer. "People leave Gal Tra'kalas 
all the time. They just disappear as the pass through the gates. Who can say where they go after that? The 
merchants come and go on a regular schedule, and they always return with carts full of goods from Silvanesti 
or Nordmaar. Do they really go to those places? Who can say? Maybe there's a whole other Ansalon for our 
ghostly neighbors to explore. For Mala's sake, I hope so, though that will be no real comfort to Aman."
Leave the city?
Now I remember!
The note that had Mala so excited was an invitation for the family to come live with her aunt in Shoole. They 
are leaving the city. That realization must have been too much for me. I think I blacked out. That must be how 
I got this lump on my skull. How long have I been unconscious? What does it matter? What matters is that Mala 
is leaving!
I've got to stop her!
My legs already are moving. I stumble out the door of my house—our house. Gilthanas and Falaius stare 
like I'm a wild beast. Perhaps I am. My heart beats with the same desperation as a rabbit's when the scent of 
the fox is in the air. The wagon rounds the corner pulled, I'm sure, by the horse Mala's sisters have given 
them—a cheap price to have their embarrassing relatives leave the city for good.
Gilthanas catches my gaze. I can see he knows the panic that sweeps through me. "Do what you can," his 
eyes seem to say. "In the end, it will do no good."
Meanwhile, Falaius walks toward me with a sad expression on his face. He holds out his massive hand, 
obviously meaning to lay it sympathetically on my shoulder. As heart-felt as that consolation might be, I know 
his true thought is to keep me here until it is too late.
Before Falaius can clasp my shoulder, I dash down the street. If Mala's going to Shoole, she'll take the 
wagon out the North Gate, and that's only a few blocks away. On the streets, I'll never catch the horses, but I 
have an advantage: I don't live in Gal Tra'kalas—I'm in the Missing City!
In the middle of the block, I turn right and run straight through the front wall of the candle-maker's shop. 
Leaping over the pile of rocky debris that used to be the kiln, I pass out the back and into the alley that cuts 
across the Northern District. Gilthanas can't possibly keep up with me; he's still too weak from his ordeal. In 
most instances, Falaius would have no trouble overtaking and subduing me, but he doesn't know this section 
of the Missing City as well as I do. He doesn't know which spectral buildings can be passed easily through and 
which hide dangerous piles of rubble, or even open pits. No, my well-meaning friends will have to take the 
streets just like Mala.
Through the Tan Griffin Inn and around the livery stable (it's been impassable since that merchant rebuilt 
the colossal barn), I see the North Gate ahead. I run heedlessly through the Gal Tra'kalans on the street. 
Usually I treat them with the same courtesy I do the more solid citizens of the Missing City, but right now I'd run 
straight through anyone who stood in my way.
At the gate, I stop and look back down the street. Nothing. No carriage. No Mala. Just the usual spectral 
pedestrian traffic. Did I read the note wrong? Is she heaing for the West Gate instead? I can't possibly get 
there in time.
Before my fear sharpens to panic, a flat wagon pulled by two horses rounds the corner. Driving the team at 
a slow trot is my own Mala, a smile of breathless anticipation painted on her face.
"No!" I shout, waving my arms back and forth wildly. "Mala, stop! Don't go! Don't leave me!"
I know she can't hear me, but I have to take the chance. I yell like the madman everyone already thinks I 
am.
Now Falaius and Gilthanas round the corner. I can see them through the wagon, racing toward me, afraid 
that I'll do myself some harm (though what I could do, I can't imagine).
Despite my shouting and arm-waving, Mala drives her horses straight through me. Of course she does. 
What else could she do?
I sink to my knees in the dusty, haunted road.
As my companions reach me, I look over my shoulder to watch as Mala, my one true love, is about to 
dissipate into nothingness.
She stops the wagon, lays down the reins, and turns around for one last look at her home. A smile full of 
hope and the promise of a happier future plays across Mala's face, and she waves good-bye.
I wave back, too stunned to speak. I know she doesn't see me, but it doesn't matter.
Picking up the reins, she urges the horses on. One step, two, three ... she fades into the swirling sand. Mala 
is gone. I throw back my head and howl to the cloudless sky.
There is no one left in this world. I'm all alone. If only the desert could swallow me up the way it has Mala. "I 
have nothing," I whisper to the wind. But the only answer I get is a hand laid gently on my shoulder.
Gilthanas bends down on one knee behind me, a look of painful memory on his face. Falaius stands back, 
giving us a sense of privacy while still being close enough to intervene should it become necessary.
"You have your memories, friend Aman. That is all any of us truly carry through this life."
"Memories? Memories of what? She was never real! I spent all these years chasing after a woman who is 
nothing more than a wisp of smoke. Gilthanas, you may have walked in the company of the gods themselves, 
but you have no idea how I feel."
"Don't I?" He takes his hand from my shoulder and stands, looking down at me the way a parent looks at a 
petulant child. "You've just lost the one you love, a pain everyone sooner or later must face. It matters not one 
whit whether you had a few months or a lifetime together, or whether you ever were ever actually together at all. 
Do not confuse yourself by finding the faults in your past—they have no bearing on the emotional chasm 
before you.
"A hole has been torn in your heart. It will heal, but the process takes time. Will you spend that time wisely? 
Will you savor the sweet moments and release the rest? If you do, the scar your heart bears will be light."
I whirl on the elf. None of this is his fault, but he makes a convenient target for my rage.
"What if I don't want it to heal?" I growl.
Gilthanas looks at me ruefully.
"Then you have two choices. You can stay here and wallow in the memories, see all the things you used to 
see, do all the things you used to do. This is a tried and true method to keep your heart from healing, though as 
many before you have discovered, the pain will never cease. Or, you can devote yourself to finding the missing 
piece of your heart and returning it to its rightful place."
I sneer derisively.
"That's impossible, and you know it."
"Perhaps," Gilthanas smiles. "But no more impossible than finding a silver dragon who wishes to remain 
hidden."
Laughing I say, "And you've told us how well that worked out. How many years were you in that Silvanesti 
prison?"
"Enough," the elf points out, "to reconcile my past and put it behind me. There were days when the only 
thing that kept me alive were my memories. Now that I'm free, I live for the future. What will you live for, Aman, 
the future or the past?"
"The future," I say uncertainly. He's right; whatever happened before doesn't matter. Mala is gone, and 
nothing I do wil change that. But if I take the love we had and build upon it, then that is the best way to honor 
the past. As long as I remain true to my inspiration, Mala will still be with me. "Do your memories no longer 
haunt you?"
Gilthanas pauses. I think he's unsure how to answer the question. "Perhaps they haunt me still, but they no 
longer rule me. I have more pressing matters to attend. I am a prince of Qualinesti. I have a duty to my people."
"When your duty is done," I ask, "then what will you live for?"
Falaius, sensing our conversation is nearing its end, steps forward and helps me to my feet.
"My duty will never end." The elf stiffens. He looks into the dirt, unwilling to meet my gaze. "This is my life."
"Then you are an even sadder creature than I."
« 上次编辑: 2013-08-14, 周三 22:44:51 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

离线 茶白猫小修

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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #10 于: 2013-07-16, 周二 21:27:06 »
*****

一周后,吉尔赛那斯恢复了重踏奎灵纳斯提返乡之旅的体力。法莱乌斯·塔尼克给他带来一袋干粮,和一张标出到普斯塔(Purstal)最短路径的地图。 到那里之后,他计划沿着行商人的路径穿越灰烬平原(Plains of Dust)。
 
我坐在舒尔古老废墟的巨石堆中。与无踪之城不同,这里没有任何拔地而起的幽灵建筑。海风不断吹过,发出凄厉的声响。

他是对的,我必须为未来而活。

城市的这个区域看起来与盖-查-卡拉斯的花园区大致相似。我幻想着自己所坐的这块石头是玛拉如今居住的房屋墙壁的一部分。

我抬头望向北方——准确地说,望着啸海岛(the Isle of Schallsea)。我听说吉尔赛那斯的老队友金月在那里建立了一座光明城堡(Citadel of Light),她教导人们如何与精魂交谈。玛拉,如今我已经认识到你并非精魂,但那是我所知最棒的起点。谁知道那新魔法能做些什么?

我跳下巨石,开始整理行装。路在眼前,我的未来也在眼前。不过,在出发之前,我转过身,最后一次回望这些废墟。那儿并没有什么可看的,但我露出微笑,温存地挥手作别。

玛拉也挥手回应,无论她身在何方。

劇透 -   :
*****
 
A week later, Gilthanas was well enough to resume his trip back to Qualinesti. Falaius Taneek brought him 
a pack of supplies, and a map of the easiest route to Purstal. From there, he planned to follow the merchant 
trails across the Plains of Dust.
I sit on a mound of rocks amid the ancient ruins of Shoole. Unlike those in the Missing City, no ghostly 
buildings rise from this site. The sea wind constantly blows through this place, sounding mournful.
He was right, I have to live for the future.
This part of the city seems roughly equivalent to the Garden District in Gal Tra'kalas. I imagine that the 
stones I sit on form the wall of the home where Mala lives now.
I'm heading up to the north—to the Isle of Schallsea, in fact. I hear that Gilthanas's old companion, 
Goldmoon, has founded a "Citadel of Light" there, and that she teaches people to speak with spirits. Now, I 
realize you're not a spirit, Mala, but this is the best place I know to start. Who knows what this new magic is 
capable of?
I hop down and gather my supplies. The road, and my future, lay in front of me. But before I head off, I turn 
and take one last look at the ruins. There's nothing there to see, but I smile and wave a fond good-bye.
Wherever she is, Mala waves back.
« 上次编辑: 2013-08-14, 周三 22:47:13 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

离线 茶白猫小修

  • 骰神牧师
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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #11 于: 2013-07-17, 周三 20:12:13 »
普斯塔古城(The Ancient City of Purstal), 11sc

吉尔赛那斯在这干燥的荒原上走了许多天。每天清晨睁开眼,他总是看见相同的风景:平坦、棕黄的大地,向着遥远的地平线无尽地延展。他每天都在怀疑,是否更为明智的做法是留在那座城市等待——天知道要等上多久——等待某艘也许能将他直接带往奎灵纳斯提的船。

但是他听到了一些消息,一些令他心焦的,关于祖国形势的消息。尤其是,塔克西丝的骑士——那些效忠于五头的恶龙之后的黑暗战士们,在那个混沌之夏之后征服了这个精灵的国度。而精灵咏者,也就是王子的外甥吉尔萨斯,则沦为王座上任由黑暗骑士操纵的傀儡。关于祖国的回忆和恐惧填满了他的心胸,等待船只的过程变得如此恼人,最后他徒步踏上了旅途。 

至少他已经开始摆脱那些关于西悠瓦拉的回忆,说服自己他的生活即使少了她也得照常运转。不知为何,他相信一旦抵达祖国,一切都会有头绪,他的人生将拥有成就与目标。有时,在深夜,这希望会变得虚无缥缈,但当黎明来临,他再度紧攫住它,如同抓住一道坚实长梯的第一级般。

他对自己通过的这片土地一无所知。但凭着再度恢复的精力与强健,凭着一支做一周苦力的工钱换来的廉价铁剑的保护,他觉得自己能克服一切横亘在征途上的宿命阻碍。他在那座城里打听到,他可以先走到托拉斯河(Torath River)畔,然后顺流而下抵达伊莱尔(Elial)。从那儿启程沿着丹特里克溪(Duntollik Run)行走,再继续西行抵达奎灵纳斯提。同时还得到警告:沿途分布着龙和离奇的混沌生物,倘若掉以轻心可能会因此丧命。

精灵在大约十天前抵达了河畔,至今为止他没有发现任何船只的踪影,也没有任何居民区和村落的迹象。河水足够清洁,因此他得以每天更换新鲜的饮用水,偶尔还能抓到鱼。尽管沿岸有几堆灌丛——这一带除了草之外他看到的唯一植物——他还是不敢冒险生火,宁愿忍受近极地气候的寒冷。他携带的精灵干粮足可应付月余的旅行,因此他并不是特别担心,即使在大多数日子里这是他所能找到的唯一食物。

他没有发现任何打算掠食他的丑恶生物的踪迹。的确,他偶尔会听到西方或南方的地平线上传来超自然风暴的隆隆回响,但他保持着警惕,也从未观察到任何直接的威胁。精灵准备了一个简易的对策:倘若龙出现,他会伏倒在干燥的地面上,迅速聚拢尽量多的尘灰将自己掩蔽起来。然后只需仰望着天空等待,确信那条巨蛇不可能发现他——哪怕它恰巧飞越他的头顶。

来到河边的第十一天,他终于第一次看到地平线上出现了某种不规则物。在他的左方,河面变得宽广而平缓。太阳正在升起,辽阔的水域上波光粼粼,他发现眼前是一系列散布在平坦地面的几何体。它们坐落在距离水边约一公里的地方,他走近,确凿无误地辨认出这是座废墟。他的面前横着一堵墙,远处可以望见几座巨大石屋的断瓦残垣,缠绕在荆棘之中。

尘灰随着他的脚步四散,地面一点点露出了光洁的,拼缀紧密的石块——一条宽阔的大道,穿过倾圮的门扉,在建筑物间延伸。一口破裂而干枯的石池子,标示着这儿一度是一泓壮丽的喷泉,抑或一汪曾容纳清凉碧水的浅池。一阵风鼓起干燥的粉尘刺痛了他的眼睛,也刺激着他的鼻腔。

他眼前矗立着这座古老的死亡之城中最宏大的建筑。那无疑曾是一座宫殿——在那破损的墙面上,古老门扉令人生畏的轮廓像一张饥饿的大口般敞开着。缓缓登上通往门口的大理石台阶,他惊奇地睁大了双眼。屋顶早已垮塌,但室内,在那黯淡阳光的勾勒下,吉尔赛那斯看见了回廊与圆柱的残骸,还有一片广阔的空地——那曾是王宫的正殿,或是一间适于举办盛大舞会的厅堂。他从依然完好的门拱下方通过,踢踢踏踏地在满地瓦砾中开出一条路。那大多是松脱的贴片,显然是在屋顶倒塌时散落下来的。他穿过走廊,步入宽敞房间的入口。

有什么迈着碎步从他身边墙基的阴影中跑过,一个小小的身影窜进大厅。他本能地把手放到剑柄上,听到身后传来更多噪音。吉尔赛那斯猛地转过身,却什么也没有看见——唯有日光毫不容情地增强着,投下愈加浓厚的暗影。

他走进宽敞的房间,看到那些曾一度环立在四周的石柱。如今大部分石柱已然坍塌,但还有相当多依旧挺立——它们中的一些在与膝盖或头平齐的高度断裂,另一些高逾十二尺,直指业已消失的天花板——令人得以一窥往昔的辉煌。他在马赛克拼贴的地面上前行,对脚下的彩石隐约感到惊讶。带着一股怪诞感,他发现某种东西——或某些人,曾经清理过这块地面,以不同于废墟中任何地方的细致照管着它。

再一次,眼角的余光扫到角落里有动静,他转过身,沉重的铁刃从剑鞘中抽出,划过冰凉的空气。

“谁在那儿?”他问。

“是我们。”

答话声从身后传来,他再度身形急转,一眼看到十二步外注视着自己的那个矮小、圆胖而又蓬头垢面的身影,忍不住爆笑出声。

那家伙立刻扭过身焦急地审视自己背后,然后掉转头瞪着吉尔赛那斯:“有什么可笑的?”他质问道。

“不……没什么。”精灵回答,一面忍住笑,深深地鞠了个合乎礼节的躬,“我只是很高兴见到你……你是一位艾格哈,我猜。”

溪谷矮人努力把他的胸膛挺得和鼓鼓的小肚子一样高:“哦,是的,我是……我c……c……c-a-i……”他学着吉尔赛那斯说,尽管他只记得这么多。

“我是奎灵纳斯提的吉尔赛那斯。”流浪者说,继续保持着庄重的神情。

“我也是!”溪谷矮人喊,“我是说,我也有个名字……”倘若这小生物记得自己的姓名,那么他显然没什么分享的愿望。

“这里是你们的城市吗?”精灵询问。

“我……我家族……我们盖这个地方!”对方夸耀道。

“我明白了。”吉尔赛那斯强迫自己保持严肃的表情。说到底,艾格哈这个种族,在克莱恩世界是以究极拾荒者而著称的,他们会搬进一切在原本的主人看来已不适合居住的住宅和废墟,“那么,你们这座大都市叫什么名字?”

“这里普斯塔……艾格哈的大首都。这里是,伊莱尔也是!那里我们另外一个大首都,从这里开始,走好多天。”他指着一个约莫是西北的方向。

吉尔赛那斯心头涌起一阵酸楚。他不知道是哪个种族建立了这曾经壮丽的建筑,很可能是人类。究竟发生了什么,才让他们背井离乡,留下这城市圮为废墟,落入最低贱的低等生物之手?同样的事有朝一日会发生在奎灵纳斯提吗?思乡的苦痛由于一个更加迫切的疑问而迅速滋长——会不会,它已经发生了?

“我……我得走了。”他说道,忽然想尽快离开这里,踏上归乡之路。

就在这时,又是一阵风从废墟的残垣间吹过,挟着更多的粉尘掠过吉尔赛那斯的脸。他感到鼻子一阵刺痒,然后——在明白过来发生了什么事之前,就打了个惊天动地的大喷嚏。

“对不起。”他致歉道,晃着脑袋弄干眼里的泪水。他惊奇地注意到,溪谷矮人带着一种近乎敬畏的表情盯着他。

“是……是你啊。阿嚏人(The Sneezer)来啦!”艾格哈宣告。他高喊着,挥舞着双手,步履蹒跚地在目瞪口呆的吉尔赛那斯周围跳起舞来,“阿嚏人驾到,阿嚏人驾到!”

“我不明白,”精灵试图打断他,开始感到担忧,“我真的要走了——”

“不,等一下……你睡这里,睡得好。今晚我们部族给你煮真的好宴席!我们等了阿嚏人很久……现在你来了,我们大联欢!然后你睡觉,我们要送你东西,我们为你做的礼物。你那个时候才可以走!”

“我不认为……”吉尔赛那斯的声音低下去了。他摸不着头绪,但无疑感到好奇。

“总的,我是说,‘总之’,你急着去哪里?”圆滚滚的矮人猜疑地怒视着吉尔赛那斯,质问道,“你不喜欢我们的东西?”

“不是的,我要去……”刹那间吉尔赛那斯的思绪飘离了躯壳。他想起了一条银龙,柔顺,富有曲线美,有着优雅的颈项。她曾是一名精灵女子,是他的挚爱,那一瞬对她的热望激烈得教他几乎无法承受。但他甩甩头——她早已不在了,他还得继续自己的生涯,“我要回家。”他静静地,几乎是悲伤地说。

“好嘛,回家——但是你得先吃我们的宴席,拿我们送你的东西。你是阿嚏人,对吧?我们等了你很久。现在你来了,你一定要看看我们的东西!”

吉尔赛那斯没有力量回绝。

劇透 -   :
The Ancient City of Purstal, 11sc
 
For days Gilthanas walked across the dry wastes. Each morning he awakened to the same vista: flat, 
brown land stretching to the far horizons. And each day he wondered if he might not have been smarter to stay 
in the city and wait—the gods only knew how long—for some ship that might carry him all the way to 
Qualinesti.
But he had also learned things, disturbing things, about developments in his homeland. Most significantly, 
the Knights of Takhisis, dark warriors who served the five-headed queen of Evil dragonkind, had conquered 
the elven realm during the Summer of Chaos. The elven Speaker, the prince's nephew Gilthas, was serving as 
a puppet on the throne, manipulated by his Dark Knight masters. Waiting for a ship had become too 
aggravating when the memories and fears about his homeland had so filled his thoughts, and so he had set 
out on foot.
At least he had begun to banish the memories of Silvara and convince himself that his life must run its 
course without her. Somehow he believed that when he reached his homeland, everything would make sense 
and his life would have fulfillment and purpose. At night, sometimes, this hope seemed translucent and 
intangible, but with the coming of dawn he once again seized it like the bottom rung of a solid ladder.
He knew little of the lands he passed through, but with his vigor and strength regained and the protection 
offered by a cheap iron sword he had purchased for the wages of a week's hard labor, he felt capable of 
overcoming any obstacle fate might lay in his path. In the city he had learned that he could walk to the Torath 
River and follow that watercourse until it eventually reached Elial. There, he would strike out along the 
Duntollik Run and continue west until he made it to Qualinesti. He had been warned about dragons and bizarre 
creatures of chaos that might lie along the way, which would destroy him if he was so much as noticed.
The elf had reached the riverbank some ten daysago, now, and had failed to see any sign of a 
rivercraft—or any kind of habitation or village. He found the river clean enough to refresh his water supply 
every day, and sometimes he caught fish. Though there were dumps of brush along these waterways— the 
only vegetation other than grass he encountered here—he endured the chill of the near arctic clime rather than 
risk a fire. His supply of elven hardbread was sufficient for more than a month of travel, so he didn't particularly 
worry when, most days, that was the only food he could provide for himself.
As to hideous creatures waiting to prey upon him, he saw no sign. True, he occasionally heard rumbles of 
supernatural storms beyond the horizon to the south or west, but he maintained his vigilance and never 
observed any immediate threat. If a dragon appeared, the elf had a simple plan: He would lie down on the dry 
ground and cover himself with as much dusty dirt as he could quickly gather. Then he would simply wait, eyes 
on the sky, confident that the serpent would never notice him—even should it fly directly overhead.
It was on the eleventh day after he had reached the river that he first noticed an irregularity in the horizon. 
The river had grown to a wide, sluggish expanse to his left. The sun was beginning to set, reflecting off the 
broad flowage when before him he observed a series of shapes scattered across the flat ground. They stood 
perhaps a mile away from the water, and as he walked closer he got the unmistakable impression that these 
were ruins. That was a wall, here before him, and beyond he saw the tattered remnants of great stone houses 
surrounded by tangles of bramble.
Below his feet the dust had scattered away from some patches of ground to reveal smooth, interlocking 
paving stones—a wide avenue leading from a crumbled gate, between the buildings. A stone basin, cracked 
and dry, indicated where a splendid fountain or wading pool must once have gathered cool waters. A gust of 
wind carried dry powder through the air, stinging his eyes and irritating his nostrils.
Before him rose the greatest edifice in this ancient city of the dead. Surely it must once have been a 
palace—the gaunt outline of an ancient doorway gaped like a hungry mouth in the broken facade of a wall. His 
eyes widened with wonder as he slowly climbed the marble stairs leading to the doorway. The roof had long 
since collapsed, but within, outlined by fading sunlight, Gilthanas saw the remnants of corridors and columns, 
and of a sweeping expanse that might have been a throne room or a chamber suitable for hosting a great ball.
He passed beneath the still-intact arch of the doorway and kicked through the rubble on the floor. These 
were mostly loose tiles of slate, obviously scattered here when the roof had caved in. He crossed the hallway 
and passed into the entryway of the great room.
Something scuttled through the shadows at the base of the wall beside him, a little shape scurrying through 
the hall. Reflexively he placed his hand on his sword, even as he heard more noises to the rear. Gilthanas 
spun, but he saw nothing save thickening shadows as the sun continued its relentless descent.
He passed into the great room and saw that columns had once stood around the entire periphery of the 
place. Now many of these had fallen, but enough remained—some splintered at knee or head height, others 
rising more than a dozen feet toward a vanished ceiling—to provide a glimpse into the splendor of the past. He 
advanced across a floor of mosaic tiles and was vaguely surprised to see the colored stone at his feet. With a 
sense of eeriness he realized that something, or somebody, had cleaned off this surface, tending it with more 
care than anyplace else in these ruins.
Once again saw movement in the corner of his vision and he turned, the heavy iron blade drawn from its 
sheath and waving in the cool air.
"Who's there?" he asked.
"Just us."
The reply came from behind and he spun about again, then burst out laughing at the sight o the short, 
pudgy, and unkempt figure regarding him from a dozen paces away.
That fellow immediately twisted to look anxiously over his own shoulder, then turned back to glare at 
Gilthanas. "What so funny?" he demanded.
"Just... nothing," replied the elf, mastering his amusement to render a deep and acceptably formal bow. "It 
is a pleasure to meet you ... one of the Aghar, I am assuming."
The gully dwarf's chest puffed out nearly as far as his bulging belly. "And yes so it is to I myself... I am ass ... 
ass ... ass-you-ming," he parroted, insofar as he could remember what Gilthanas had said.
"I am Gilthanas of Qualinesti," said the wanderer, still maintaining the air of dignity.
"Me too!" cried the gully dwarf. "That is, me got name too ..." If the little creature remembered his cognomen, 
he apparently had no desire to share it.
"Is this your city?" inquired the elf.
"Me . . . my clan . . . we build this place!" boasted the other.
"I see." Gilthanas forced himself to keep a straight face. The Aghar, after all, were known across Krynn as 
the ultimate scavengers, moving into any dwelling or ruin that had become viewed as uninhabitable by its 
original owners. "And what is the name of your great metropolis?"
"This Purstal... Great Capital of the Aghar. This is, and Elial is too! That our other great capital, many days 
that way from here." He pointed in a vaguely northwestern direction.
Gilthanas was suddenly struck by a sense of melancholy. He wondered about the folk, humans most likely, 
who had built these once-splendid edifices. What had happened to them, that they left their cities to fall into 
ruin and be claimed by the lowest of the low. Would this happen to Qualinesti one day? The pang of 
homesickness grew, quickened by a more urgent question: Was it happening already?
"I... I have to go," he said, suddenly wanting to be out of this place, to be on the way to his homeland.
At that moment another gust of wind snaked between the ruined walls and more dust wafted past 
Gilthanas's face. He felt that irritation in his nose and then, before he knew what was happening, he exploded 
with a convulsive sneeze.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, shaking his head to clear the water from his eyes. He noticed with some surprise 
that the gully dwarf was staring up at him with an expression bordering on awe.
"It... it is you. The Sneezer has come!" proclaimed the Aghar. He shouted, waving his hands, dancing a 
shambling jig around the stunned Gilthanas. "The Sneezer comes! The Sneezer comes!"
"I don't understand," the elf tried to interject, beginning to worry. "And I really have to move—"
"But wait... you sleep here, sleep good. My tribe cook you one really fine feast tonight! We wait alla time for 
the Sneezer ... now you come, now you get big party! And then you sleep ... and we give you stuff, gifts we 
make for you. Only then you be on your way!"
"I don't think...." Gilthanas's voice trailed off. He was mystified, but admittedly intrigued.
"Where you go in such hurry, anyplace? I mean, 'anyway?'" demanded the rotund dwarf, glowering 
suspiciously. "You not like our stuff?"
"No, it's just that...." For a moment Gilthanas felt his thoughts run away with him. He remembered a dragon 
of silver, supple, curves and a graceful neck. She was an elf maid, and his beloved, and at that instant his 
longing for her was an emotion more powerful than he thought he could survive. But he shook his head—she 
was gone, and he had his life before him. "I'm going home," he said quietly, almost sadly.
"Well, go home—but not before you have our feast, take our stuff. You da Sneezer, right? We been waitin' 
for you. Now you come, see our stuff!"
Gilthanas didn't have the strength to resist.
« 上次编辑: 2013-07-21, 周日 17:49:45 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

离线 茶白猫小修

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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #12 于: 2013-07-18, 周四 14:20:01 »
*****

艾格哈的好客热情正如溪谷矮人这个种族本身一样痴狂,但吉尔赛那斯惊讶的发现,自己竟然很享受这群脏兮兮的小家伙的重视和友谊。他被告知“阿嚏人”的传说在溪谷矮人间代代相传……普斯塔,以及附近那座姊妹城市——或者说,姊妹废墟——伊莱尔的艾格哈们,都日复一日地盼望着那个打喷嚏的人的降临。

自然,正如吉尔赛那斯所见,溪谷矮人们根本不了解这个喷嚏对他们来说有什么含义。他喝着他们的酒——酒还挺不错;吃着他们的食物——食物挺糟的。他聆听着他们的故事,欣赏着一位有望成为秘术师的老矮人响亮的歌声,那歌谣描述了南方冰川上的某座拱门。

“那冰封旧日之拱(Frozen Past Arch)!”那艾格哈尖叫着,勉强算是在歌唱,“在那里真挚的心灵可以找到他们的渴望!”在几次提问之后,吉尔赛那斯了解到,那座拱门据说是一个极其古老的国度的遗物,它的确蕴含着力量,但难于解开。

终于,艾格哈们为他们可敬的阿嚏人带来了礼品。吉尔赛那斯慨然应允,做好心理准备去接受某种发霉的老鼠皮斗篷或没有背带的背包。他目瞪口呆地发现,那群卑贱的东道主竟然献上了真正的宝藏——包括一套在任何气候下都能保暖的斗篷和靴子、一只总能倒出新鲜饮料的细颈瓶,一张标出灰烬平原与邻接的冰墙冰川(Icewall Glacier)位置的地图,以及一把宝剑——一把两千多年前打造的精灵钢(elven steel)的利刃。

由于感动和八九分醉意,他拥抱了许多溪谷矮人,和他们跳舞,最后睡倒在一堆破布上,与一百多名艾格哈同室而眠。当他醒来的时候,他的东道主们还在沉睡。尽管吉尔赛那斯感到舌头麻木,脑袋剧痛,他还是收拾起他的新宝贝们,轻轻对东道主们说了声永别,再度踏上了归乡的道路。

劇透 -   :
*****
 
Aghar hospitality proved to be as insanely frenetic as the gully dwarves themselves, but Gilthanas was 
surprised to find himself enjoying the attention and the friendship of the filthy runts. He learned that the legend 
of "The Sneezer" had been handed down from generation to generation... that the ghar here in Purstal, and 
in the nearby sister city—or sister ruin—of Elial, both had been living their days waiting for the arrival of the one 
who would sneeze.
Of course, the gully dwarves had no real understanding of what the Sneeze meant to them, which was just 
as well, from Gilthanas's point of view. He drank their wine, which was not bad, and ate their food, which was 
bad. He listened to their tales, enjoying one old would-be mystic who loudly sang of an arch on the glacier to 
the south.
"The Frozen Past Arch!" screeched the Aghar, in a quasi-sing-song. "It is the place where true hearts can 
seek their desire!" With a few questions, Gilthanas learned that the arch was reputedly a relic from a very 
ancient civilization, and that its powers were real, but difficult to unlock.
Finally, the Aghar brought forth gifts for their honored Sneezer. Gilthanas was agreeable and prepared 
himself to accept some moldy rat-skin cloak or perhaps a backpack with no straps. He was stunned when his 
humble hosts instead gave him real treasures, including a cloak and boots that would keep him warm in all 
weather, a decanter that would always pour fresh beverage, a scroll that mapped out for him the Plains of Dust 
and the adjacent Icewall Glacier, and finally a fine sword, a blade of elven steel that had been forged more 
than two thousand years ago.
Touched and more than a little drunk, he embraced many of the gully dwarves, danced with them, and fell 
asleep on a heap of rags in the same room with a hundred Aghar. When he awakened, his hosts were still 
sleeping. Despite his thick tongue and pounding headache, Gilthanas gathered his new treasures, gave his 
hosts a whispered farewell, and once again started on the road toward his home.
« 上次编辑: 2013-07-23, 周二 11:12:11 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

离线 茶白猫小修

  • 骰神牧师
  • Chivary
  • *****
  • 帖子数: 1322
  • 苹果币: 0
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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #13 于: 2013-07-19, 周五 01:03:21 »
一朵石玫瑰的感悟:石玫瑰镇(Stone Rose),12sc
 
欢迎光临花园!

噢,朋友们,我不是故意要吓你们的。只不过现如今来这儿的人实在是太少了,你们能陪陪我,我简直高兴坏了。来,来,这儿有满满一皮袋调好的红酒,请赏光与我共饮,作为打扰诸位独处的赔礼。

不,不,不……非来不可。要是把仅有的几位客人给吓跑了,我还当啥园丁啊?真不像话,真的!

不用不用。我的工作就是确保您能享受到游览的乐趣嘛。但愿诸位度过一段愉快的时光,回头跟亲朋好友宣传一下,让他们也来这儿玩一趟。来,相互递一下酒囊,大家喝个够。今天你们就是我,花园管理员塔恩·格兰杰(Tarn Granger)的客人。花园(the garden)这名字没啥创意——不过您想啊,咱这整一个镇的名字就叫做石玫瑰镇,所以它的主要景点也没必要另取新鲜的名头啦。

这些天,路过这儿的几乎就只有商人和佣兵,他们都没空停下脚步闻一闻这些玫瑰——我就光是这么一说。朝圣者和冒险者简直再也不到咱石玫瑰镇来了。我也没法指责他们待在家里,毕竟塔克西丝骑士的铁腕牢牢控制了奎灵纳斯提,那条叫黑貂(Sable)的黑龙把整个新海岸(New Coast)变成了血海!不过但凡是来了的人,个个都会大开眼界——我一点不夸张地告诉您,这在克莱恩世界是独一份儿。

跟我来,让您看看我指的是什么。

请恕我冒昧,不过瞧诸位这破破烂烂的衣裳,眼睛里这提心吊胆的神色,我要斗胆猜您是从奎灵纳斯提来的难民。是吧,我早就在想了!刚刚提到黑暗骑士的时候您几位吓了一跳,这可是致命的破绽呀。

要我说呀,这是个教人伤心,教人伤心的年月。“凡人之年代(Age of Mortals)”,我看不见得!如果这真是属于我们的时代,为啥有一半的土地都落在一座小城堡大小的龙手里?决不能啊!但是美应该长存心间——而我也不知道有别的什么地方比石玫瑰镇的花园更美的啦。

看那儿,美得教人窒息,对不对?超过一亩各种形状各种大小的玫瑰丛。那几丛修剪成龙的形状,还有一只狮鹫,一匹飞马。往尽北边看,那花架上缠满了玫瑰藤,还有您拳头大小的花。那中央是座名副其实的迷宫。现在它瞧着不大像迷宫——您看那树篱不过齐腰高——可是迷宫就在它正当中,在剪成一棵微缩版瓦伦木(vallenwood)形状的那丛玫瑰藤下边的树阴里绕着呢。那儿是全镇最适合坐下来静静品尝您的调和酒的地方了(要不然您以为我们往那走干嘛呢,嗯?)。
 
是啊,这一切已经够神奇了,要想到我们这可是在一片沙漠的边缘!但它比你们想的还要奇幻。您看啊,全部这些玫瑰,不管是灌木,是藤,还是树,全都是石头做的。而且还不是那种碎碎的花岗岩。这种石头平滑又光润,就像您能在索兰尼亚贵族的家里找到的那种大理石雕一样亮闪闪的。

看呐!

它们的细节是如此精美,您很难说出它们和真正的玫瑰之间有什么差异——呃,除了颜色……还有香味之外。要是它们是真花儿,这空气中早该充满了浓郁的香气。咱的玫瑰不像普通的玫瑰那么好闻,但是您秋天永远不用清扫花瓣!作为一个园丁,跟您说啊,这让我可高兴了。我们也不用对付蜜蜂和其他烦人的虫子,所以到头来,我还是得说,咱这算是两全其美了。

不过,诸位要小心啊。这些刺正像它们看起来一样锋利,而且够结实,足以伤人。我记得有一次,一个小坎德人好奇这些玫瑰里边是不是也跟外壳一样是石头做的。他把整个胳膊硬塞进枝条间的一道缝隙里去。这是我见过最傻的一桩傻事,不过您懂得,坎德人嘛,脑瓜里冒出个鬼主意的时候就是那样的。

嗯哼,当他抓住他所找到的第一根枝条的时候,胳膊就卡在那儿了。当然啦,那枝条是石头的——而且长满了刺。他嚎叫得像条鼻子卡进了蜂箱的狗那么惨。然后那坎德人试着尽快抽出他的胳膊。这是他犯的第二个错误。

本来也就是手上留下几个洞的事儿,但是这么一来,他的胳膊就被一路上的几乎每一根刺钩住了。他往外一抽胳膊,又是一声惨嚎,再抽一点儿,嚎得更大声,最后他终于把自己给拔出来了。跟您说,那场面一点也不赏心悦目。幸亏镇长的女儿桑德拉·轻触(Sondra Softtouch)听到动静跑了过来。桑德拉在金月和她的秘术师们那里学过一年,回来的时候已经是个不错的小治疗师了。她给坎德人结结实实地包扎了一通。虽然坎德人还是对花非常好奇,但从那之后一直到离开,他始终把手插在深深的小包包里。

是啊,关于这个花园,我有好多好多故事可讲。我想,这是因为我花了毕生的精力在照管它吧。

什么?您以为石玫瑰不需要照管?

这里会长出杂草,就像其他任何地方一样。尽管不会对那些灌木造成威胁,它们看上去还是乱糟糟的。谁会想游览一个凌乱的花园?还有那些游客留下的烂摊子。您绝想不到,如果人们不真正住在这个地方,他们走的时候会留下一堆什么样的玩意儿。我在花园里捡到过各种各样的东西,从破衣服到臭鸡蛋。要是我再告诉您这个,您没准会惊讶得昏过去:我时不常的捡到缺刃的(有时是完全折断的)匕首和短剑,那是因为有些家伙打着傻算盘,试着把一朵真正的石玫瑰带回家去。您知道吗,我甚至见过一把砍这些茎砍缺了一大块的牛头人战斧?连我都震惊了。

那些玫瑰有魔力吗?

呃,很难讲。普通的刀剑伤不到它们分毫,这的确可以用魔力来解释。不过话又说回来,其实我觉得,要是您对一块大石头挥剑也会得到同样的结果——毕竟,没有哪把剑是为了一次又一次地砍石头而造的啊。

有些人说,花园是个被诅咒的地方。

劇透 -   :
Reflections on a Rose of Stone: Stone Rose, 12sc
 
Welcome to the garden!
Oh, my friends, I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just that so few people come here anymore that I am 
terribly glad for the company. Here, I've a skin full of mulled wine—allow me to make amends for spoiling your 
solitude by sharing it with you.
No, no, no ... I insist. What kind of caretaker would I be if I scared away my only guests? A poor one, let me 
assure you!
No. It is my job to make sure you enjoy your visit. Hopefully, you'll have such a good time that you'll tell all 
your friends and relations to also make the journey. So pass around the skin and drink your fill. Today, you are 
the guests of Tarn Granger, the keeper of the garden—an uninspired name, but when your entire town is 
named Stone Rose, there's really no reason to think of a fancy title for the main attraction.
Just about the only people who come through here these days are merchants and mercenaries, and neither 
of them have time to stop and smell the roses—so to speak. Pilgrims and explorers rarely make the trip to 
Stone Rose anymore. I can't say I blame them for staying home, what with the Knights of Takhisis holding 
Qualinesti in their iron grip, and Sable the Black Dragon turning all the New Coast into a bloody swamp! But 
those who make the trip see something so amazing—I'm not fibbing one bit when I tell you it's unique on all of 
Krynn.
Walk with me a ways, and I'll show you what I mean.
Pardon my saying so, but by the look of your tattered clothing and that haunted tint to your eyes, I'd hazard 
to guess that you're refugees from Qualinesti. I thought so! The way you flinched when I mentioned the Dark 
Knights was a dead giveaway.
It's a sad, sad time, I tell you. "Age of Mortals" indeed! If it was our age, would half the land be ruled by 
dragons the size of small castles? No, sir! But you take your beauty where you can—and I don't know of 
anywhere more beautiful than the garden in Stone Rose.
Look out there. It takes your breath away, doesn't it? Over an acre of rosebushes in all shapes and sizes. 
Those over there are trimmed in the shapes of dragons, a griffin, and a pegasus. Off to the north, you can see 
lattices covered with vines and flowers the size of your fist. But te centerpiece, literally, is the maze. Now, it's 
not much of a maze—you can see the hedges are only about waist high—but that circle at the center sits under 
the shade of a rosebush grown and pruned into the shape of a miniature vallenwood. It's the best place in the 
whole town to sit and quietly sip your mulled wine. (Why do you think we're heading there, eh?)
Yes, all this would be marvel enough, considering the fact that we're on the edge of a desert! But it's even 
more fantastic than you think. You see, all the roses, every bush, vine, and tree, are made of stone. And not 
some crumbled granite either. The stone is smooth and polished, and shines like the marble statues you'll find 
in Solamnian noble homes.
Look at them!
The detail is so fine that you can hardly tell the difference between these and the real thing—well, except for 
the color .. . and the smell. If these were live flowers, the air would be thick with perfume. Our roses don't smell 
so nice as the normal kind, but you never have to sweep up the petals in the fall! As the groundskeeper, let me 
tell you, that makes me very happy. We also don't have to deal with bees and other nuisance bugs, so all in all, 
I'd say we get the best of both worlds.
Careful, though. Those thorns are just as sharp as they look, and they're sturdy enough to do some real 
damage. I remember one little kender who got curious about whether the bushes were made of stone on the 
inside as well as the out. He stuck his whole arm in through a gap in the branches. Not the brightest thing I've 
ever seen done, but you know how kender are when they get a notion in their heads.
Well, he got his arm wedged in there as far as it would go and grabbed onto the first branch he found. Sure 
enough, it was made of stone—and covered in thorns. He yelped like a dog that had stuck its nose up a 
beehive. The kender then tried to pull his arm out as quick as can be. That was his second mistake.
Instead of just having a few holes in his hand, he snagged his arm on just about every thorn on the way out. 
He yanked the arm a ways, yelped again, yanked some more, yelped even louder, until finally, he got himself 
free. It wasn't a pretty sight, let me tell you. Luckily, Sondra Softtouch, the mayor's daughter, heard the 
commotion and came running. Sondra spent a year studying up there with Goldmoon and her mystics on 
Schallsea and came back quite the little healer. She patched the kender up quick enough. And though he was 
still very curious about the flowers, that kender kept his hands in his deep little pockets the rest of his stay.
Yes, I've got a whole lot of stories about the garden. I suppose that's what comes from spending my whole 
life tending the place.
What? You don't think stone roses need tending?
Weeds grow here just as well as they do anywhere else. They may not be a threat to these bushes, but they 
still look a mess. And who wants to visit a messy garden? Then there's the mess that people make. You 
wouldn't believe the kind of things folks will just up and leave behind if they don't actually live in a place. I've 
found everything from torn clothing to rotten eggs just sitting in the garden. And you'd faint dead away if I told 
you how often I find daggers and short swords with their blades chipped (and sometimes broken clean off) by 
someone who got it into his fool head to try to take a genuine stone rose home with him. Do you know I've even 
seen a minotaur battle-ax with a goodly chunk missing thanks to one of these stems? Even I'm amazed.
Are the roses magic?
Well, that's hard to say. Magic would explain why they stand up so well to normal blades. But then again, I'd 
think the same thing if you started taking swings at a boulder—no sword was meant to strike a rock over and 
over again.
Some folks say the garden is a cursed site.
« 上次编辑: 2013-08-05, 周一 12:04:46 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。

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Re: 【谜之私译坑】少年Gi的奇幻漂流
« 回帖 #14 于: 2013-07-20, 周六 01:11:45 »
*****

这个故事发生在很久很久以前,比诸神对古老的伊斯塔降下火雨还要早的时候,那时候这块土地还又青翠又肥沃,如今是我们小镇的这个地方,当时还是座宏伟的城堡。据说,在那座城堡里,住着一位特别睿智的国王和他唯一的儿子,多特阿德(Dottaard)王子。

随着岁月的手指慢慢勒紧国王的喉咙,他开始担心他王国的命运,因为他的儿子还没成亲。为了亡羊补牢,国王派出他手下四位最快的骑手,朝着四方奔驰,向整个国家宣告他的圣旨:多特阿德王子所娶的女子不仅可以成为这个国度的太子妃(和未来的王后),还将获得城堡以南的全部国土,国库的一半全归她,爱怎么用就怎么用。他认为,王子绝不会看上一个会滥用这笔礼物的女人。

第二天,王宫里来了几百个年轻淑女,每一个都比下一个更美丽,更优雅。不过,王子的眼光只停留在罗瑟拉(Rosella)一个人的身上。罗瑟拉披着一件漆黑的斗篷,尽管她把兜帽拉得低低的(始终把双眼藏在阴影里),但披散在她肩头那柔顺的红色发绺和她红宝石般的嘴唇都仿佛述说着她是一位多么精致美丽的女子。

才到中午,多特阿德王子就回绝了罗瑟拉之外的所有女孩,日落时分,他已经确信世上没有更配得上他的女子。因此,他们决定在一个月后举行婚礼。国王大喜过望。他的儿子将拥有一位夫人,他的王国将拥有一位太子妃,而他也可以幸福地瞑目了。

然而,当天晚上,国王路过罗瑟拉的房间时,听到里面传来一个陌生而苍老的声音。他从门缝往里偷看,看见罗瑟拉摘掉了她的兜帽——原来她的真面目根本不是什么年轻的姑娘,而是一个老巫婆。她穿的斗篷其实是她的法袍——她是个黑袍法师——她在那上面施了个咒语,只要她紧紧裹着这件斗篷,就能拥有公主般的容貌。

“我施了个咒语,”罗瑟拉咯咯笑着自言自语,“让那个笨蛋王子爱上我。一个月以后,我就要和他结婚了,半个王国都将是我的了!”

国王跑去告诉他儿子这个坏消息,可是罗瑟拉的咒语太管用了,王子根本一点儿也不相信。他决定和罗瑟拉结婚,而他的父亲没法插手。婚礼的日子一天天临近,国王思考着,计划着,可是他实在想不到有什么办法能从那坏女人的手里拯救他的儿子和王国。

就这样,离婚礼只有一星期的时候,一位宫女碰巧听到罗瑟拉在和卫队长说话。“我对玫瑰严重过敏,”她说,“所以你可别让任何客人把玫瑰带到我的婚礼上。就算最小最小的,能编进少女头饰的那种玫瑰花蕾也不行,懂了吗?”

宫女确实听懂了,她赶快把听到的内容告诉国王。国王想出了一个好主意。

在婚礼的那天,国王去找他的儿子,为自己对准新娘粗鲁的行为道歉。“为了补偿,”国王说,“我安排了有史以来最为辉煌的仪式。婚礼将在我们的庭院里举行,王国的每位子民都将出席庆典。”被咒语迷住的王子非常高兴,他把这个惊人的消息告诉了罗瑟拉。

当新郎和新娘手挽着手走出来的时候,罗瑟拉倒吸一口凉气,吓得缩了回去。整个庭院被布置成了一个玫瑰园,那里有树木,有灌丛,有矮树……玫瑰的一切品种应有尽有,而所有这些玫瑰都正值花期。

在整个王国的众目睽睽之下,罗瑟拉打了个大喷嚏,这个喷嚏是如此之大,把她的兜帽都吹飞了,露出她的真面目。围观的人群一片骚动,而罗瑟拉接连不断地打着喷嚏。终于,她的专注被打断了,再也没法维持那蛊惑多特阿德王子的魔咒。

王子脱离了罗瑟拉的控制,立即宣布婚礼中止,并叫来了王宫卫队。尽管卫队不是巫婆的对手,他们还是赶走了罗瑟拉。临走前,她对国王说:“你的玫瑰击败了我,但它们别想干第二次!”

她一面说,一面在空中挥舞着双手,所有的树木,灌丛和矮树全都变成了石头。紧接着,她又施展了一道咒语,消失在一团烟雾之中。

多特阿德王子听国王解释了事情的来龙去脉后,去对那位宫女致以谢意。最终,两人坠入了爱河,一个月后,他们结婚了。

婚礼在这座石玫瑰花园中举行,新郎、新娘和国王都认为,这里是整座王国最美妙的地方。

劇透 -   :
*****
 
The story goes that a long time ago, back before the gods rained fire down on ancient Istar, back when this 
part of the land was green and fertile, a great castle stood where our little own is now. In that castle, they say, 
lived a very wise king and his only son, Prince Dottaard.
As the fingers of age tightened on the king, he began to worry about the fate of his kingdom, for his son was 
yet unmarried. In order to remedy this situation, the king sent his four swiftest riders, one in each direction, to 
make this proclamation known throughout the land: Whatever woman Prince Dottaard married would not only 
become princess (and eventually queen) of the realm, but also would receive all the lands south of the castle 
and half of the kingdom's treasury to do with as she pleased. The prince, he thought, would never choose to 
marry a woman who would abuse such a gift.
The next day, hundreds of young ladies visited the palace, each more beautiful and elegant than the next. 
The only one the prince had eyes for, though, was Rosella. Rosella wore a cape of deepest black, and though 
she kept the hood pulled low (hiding her eyes in constant shadow), the flowing red locks that spilled over her 
shoulders and her ruby lips said this was a woman of exquisite beauty.
By midday, Prince Dottaard dismissed all the ladies except Rosella, and by sundown, he was sure no other 
woman matched him so perfectly. The wedding, it was decided, would take place one month hence.
The king was beside himself with joy. His son would have a wife, his kingdom would have a princess, and 
he could die a happy man.
That evening, however, as the king passed Rosella's chamber, he heard a strange, ancient voice coming 
from within. Peeking through the cracked door, he saw Rosella remove her hood to reveal that she was not a 
youthful maiden at all, but rather an ancient sorceress. The cloak she wore was really her wizards 
robes—black robes—and she cast a spell so that when it was pulled tight about her, she would have the 
visage of a princess.
"I have cast a spell," Rosella cackled to herself, "to make that fool prince fall in love with me. In one month, 
we will marry and half the kingdom will be mine!"
The king ran off to tell his son the terrible news, but Rosella's spell was so powerful that the prince did not 
believe a word of it. He was going to marry Rosella, and his father could do nothing about it. As the wedding 
day grew closer, the king plotted and planned, but he could find no way to save his son and his kingdom from 
this terrible woman.
Then, one week before the wedding, a palace maid overheard Rosella talking to the captain of the guard. "I 
am terribly allergic to roses," she said, "so you must not allow any guests to bring them to my wedding. Not 
even the tiniest rosebud may be woven into a lady's headdress, is that clear?"
It certainly was clear to the maid, and she hurried to tell the king what she had heard. It gave him a clever 
plan.
On the day of the wedding, the king came to his son and apologized for his rude behavior toward the 
bride-to-be. "In order to make amends," the king said, "I have arranged the most glorious event ever. The 
wedding will take place in our own courtyard, and everyone in the kingdom will be there." This pleased the 
spellbound prince, and he went to tell Rosella the wonderful news.
As the bride and groom walked out arm-in-arm, Rosella gasped, then drew back in horror. The entire 
courtyard had been transformed into a rose garden with trees, bushes, and shrubs of all varieties, each at the 
height of bloom.
While the entire kingdom watched, Rosella sneezed so hard that her hood flew off, revealing her true form. 
As panic swept through the crowd, Rosella sneezed again and again. Finally, her concentration was so 
shattered that she could no longer maintain the spell that bewitched Prince Dottaard.
Freed from Rosella's control, the prince immediately announced that the wedding was off and called for the 
palace guard. Though they were no match for the sorceress, the guards drove Rosella off. Before she left, she 
turned to the king and said, "Your roses have beaten me, but they will never do so again!"
With that, she waved her hands in theair and every bush, tree, and shrub turned to stone. Then she 
repeated the motion and disappeared in a puff of smoke.
When the king explained what had happened, Prince Dottaard went to thank the palace maid. In the end, 
though, the two fell in love, and one month later, they married.
The wedding was held in the garden of stone roses, which bride, groom, and king all agreed was the 
loveliest place in all the kingdom.
« 上次编辑: 2013-07-20, 周六 13:18:44 由 茶白猫小修 »

吉尔赛那斯的冒险史诗 The Odyssey of Gilthanas [Appendix]

吟游诗人,历史,命运,文艺,音乐之神维纳sama,新的传说也请多多关照♪~

骰神牧师的布道
1.骰品守恒,神会为祂眷顾者关闭多余的门,让20与1出现在适当的地方。
2.骰子之神属于绝对中立阵营,宿命领域的愿赌服输是骰神教义的一部分。
3.骰子之神与规则之神关系良好,漠视规则和欺骗规则者必遭到骰神惩罚。
4.敬请谨记,若不重视自身加值,出20不算过的情形下,骰神也爱莫能助。