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【书籍搬运】Night Falls on Sentinel 夜幕下的Sentinel

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英文名:Night Falls on Sentinel

作者:Boali

原文出处:http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Tamriel:Night_Falls_on_Sentinel

翻译:yahoocom

没有任何音乐从这家位于Sentinel的小酒馆中传出,当然除此之外还是有一些杂音存在的:那些小心谨慎的低声对话;酒吧侍女在石地板上留下的轻声的脚步;还有那些正发出啧啧吃喝声的酒店常客们,他们的舌头正搭拉在酒瓶嘴上,眼睛空洞无物地盯着前方.在这种环境下,还是有人能显示出自己的与众不同.那个穿着黑色天鹅绒斗蓬的红色守卫女子的目光足以让人感到惊奇,甚至是怀疑.在她目光的注视下一个陌生人走出了地下酒窖,他看上去非常的谨慎并没有任何出奇的举动;很快他走到了阴影下并和黑暗混为了一体.

“你是不是Jomic?”

那人是一个已到中年的矮胖子,他的脸看上去比他的实际年龄还要老.他朝前看了看后点了点头,而后他就回到了自己的座位上开始喝起酒来了.那个年轻女人走到了他身旁并坐了下来.

“我的名字叫Haballa,”她说完后取出了一小袋的金子并把他放在他的杯子旁.

“非常好,”Jomic含混地说道,他转过了头和她的目光相对.“你想要谁死?”

她并没有转过脸,只是说道,“在这里谈话安全吗?”

“在这里他们从不关心别人的事情,他们只关心自己的.你甚至可以把你的胸甲取下,光着胸在桌上跳舞,就这样也没人会理睬的.”那人笑着说道.“那么你想要谁死呢?”

“其实我并不想要谁死,”Haballa说道,“我的真正目的是,哦,我只想把某个人..嗯,清理掉一会儿,而且要保证那人不会被受到伤害.你懂吗?所以我就上这儿找到在此行颇为专业的你,曾有人说过你是此任务最好的人选.”

“哦?那么之前谁和你谈过呢?”Jomic含混地问道,他又喝起了杯中的酒水.

“一个我朋友的朋友的朋友.”

“他们根本不知道自己在说些什么.”那个男人抱怨道,“我早就已经不干了.”

Haballa又轻轻地掏出了另一包金子紧接着又是一包,她把它们放在了那男人的手边.他看了她好一会儿,而后他把袋中的金币全倒在了桌上并开始数了起来.边数金币他边问道,“那么你想要谁被清理掉呢?”

“等一会儿好吗?”Haballa笑着说道,“在我们谈正事之前,首先我要了解你是否是足够专业.你不能伤害到那人,因此你必须要小心谨慎.”

“你想小心谨慎?”男人停止了数桌面上的金币,“那好,我告诉你我曾经接过的一个任务—我的Arkay啊,简直让人难以相信,20多年了,和那次任务有关的人中只有我活到了现在.那是在Betony战争之前的事了,你还记得吗?”

“那时我还是个孩子.”

“那是自然了,”Jomic笑着说道.“每个人都知道Lhotun国王有个哥哥名叫Greklith,他已经死了.对吗?而他的姐姐Aubki则嫁给了Daggerfall王国的那个小伙子国王.但事情的真相是Lhotun国王有两个哥哥.”

“真的吗?”Haballa的眼睛闪了闪,看上去好像很有兴趣的样子.

“这不是骗你的,”他咯咯地笑道,“那个虚弱多病的小伙子名叫Arthago,是老国王和王后所生的第一个儿子.身为长子他就理所当然地继承了国王的王冠,那时他的父母对此也没有什么担忧.但当王后又生下了两个王子后,他们觉得新生的儿子更适合继承王位.因此我和我的伙计们就接到了这个任务:我们把那个病弱的王子带走并把现场伪装成他是被Underking劫持的那样.”

"我没有听明白"那个年轻的女人轻声说道.

“你当然不能完全明白,这是事情的关键之处,”Jomic摇着头说道.“小心谨慎,就像你说的那样.我们把孩子放在了一个包里并把他丢进了一个古代遗迹的深处,就这样.没有什么好大惊小怪的,只是几个伙计,一只包,一根棍子.”

“这就是我感兴趣的地方.”Haballa说道.“技巧.我的朋友…那个被带走的只是个虚弱的小王子,但那根棍子是干什么用的?”

“这是一个工具.一些事物在过去能发挥比现在更大的作用,这仅仅使得今天的人们能更好的使用它们.让我来解释一下:每个人身上平均有71处痛穴.精灵和虎人们的身体更加敏感,因此他们比人要多出3到4处.亚龙人和Sload人,他们大概有52到67处穴位.”Jomic伸出了他那粗短的手指开始在 Haballa的身体上点了起来.“6处穴位在你的前额,2处在你的眉部,2处在你的鼻部,7处在你的喉部,10处在你的前胸,9处在你的腹部,每只手臂上各有3处,在腹股沟处还有12处,4处在你的右腿还有5处在其它地方.”

“一共是63处,”Haballa回答.

“不,不是的.”Jomic说道.

“是的,我应该是正确的,”那个年轻女子大喊道,她因她的数学能力遭到质疑而感到愤怒.“6加2加7加10加9加每只手的3处再加12加4加5,等于63.”

“应该还有几处我没有说清.”Jomic耸了耸肩说道.“如果你想熟练掌握使用棍棒的技巧,最重要的一点是你必须要熟悉这些位于人体各部位的痛穴.如果你做的足够好的话,轻轻地一击也许就能夺人性命,而且死者身上不会留下任何淤痕.”

“说的太好了.”Haballa笑道,“那么至今都没人发现那个弃孩吗?”

“谁能发现?那男孩的父母是国王和王后,他们现在早已不在人世了.他的兄弟姐妹一直都以为他是被Underking带走的.这就是所有人所认为的事实,而我的伙伴都已经死了.”

“是自然死亡吗?”

“没有自然死亡会发生在海湾地区的,你应该也清楚.我其中的一个伙计是喝了Selenu后死的;另一个则是被那场瘟疫夺去性命的,那场瘟疫同时也夺去了王后和Greklith王子的生命.还有一个是被破门而入的强盗所杀死.如果你要活下去的话就要像我这样,保持低调并活在人们的视线之外.”Jomic已经数完了桌上的金币.“现在你必须要说出那个和你谈过话人的名字,他是谁?”

“我想我最好现在就把他给你带来.”Haballa说道,她站起了身,头也不回地大步走出了这家不知名的酒馆.

Jomic一口喝干了杯中的酒,随后也跟了出去.外面夜凉如水,海风不时地拍打着Iliac海湾的水面,被风吹起的残叶如碎片一般在半空中旋转着. Haballa从酒馆旁的一条小巷中走了出来,并向Jomic招了招手.当他向她走去时,一阵微风突然吹开了她身上的斗蓬,展现在他面前的是一件标有 Sentinel国王标志的盔甲.

那个矮胖子向后退了几步然后转身试图逃跑,但是她的速度太快了.一眨眼功夫他就发现了自己已经倒在地上,而且他的喉部已经被那女子用她的膝盖顶着.

“国王在登上王位后就一直在寻找你和你的同党,已经几年了,Jomic.虽然他没有给我详细的指示要我怎么对待你,但与你的谈话却使我想到了一个主意.”

Haballa从她的腰带间取下了一根结实的棍棒!

一个醉鬼从酒馆里踉踉跄跄地走出来,他听到了从那黑暗的小巷里传来了一阵阵痛苦的哀鸣和低沉的耳语:“我们最好这样数.一,二,三,四,五,六,七……”

新手注释:

Greklith——————-Sentinel的王子.国王Camaron和王后Akorithi的次子.被一场瘟疫夺去性命.

Lhotun -—————-现任Sentinel国王,国王Camaron和王后Akorithi的三子.在Greklith死后他就登上了王位,然后他开始寻找他那位失踪的哥哥Arthago,并追杀那些参与谋害Arthago的凶手.

Arthago——————Sentinel的王子.国王Camaron和王后Akorithi的长子.因为他从小体弱多病被认为不能继承王位,但他是长子.因此为了避免日后王位争夺的麻烦,他的父王和母后就雇人把他遗弃在了一个遗迹内,让他死亡.人们都以为他是被Underking带走的.

Underking——————可以翻译成"幽域之王",一个迷样的生物.有传言他是一位强大的巫妖.关于他的来源有两个版本.一个是帝国版:他曾是一位背叛TIBER的战斗法师;还有一个是民间版:他曾是SKYRIM国王,在第一纪元被审判席击败后就躲在地下.第二纪元他又重新苏醒,并帮助了一位年轻人完成了对整个Tamriel大陆的征服,那位年轻人就是TIBER SEPTIM.为了洗刷在第一纪元被击败的耻辱,他让TIBER去进攻晨风大陆.但最后他对TIBER和平解决晨风的做法严重不满.总之说来,没有 Underking的帮助,TIBER也不可能征服整个大陆.有意思的是,虽然Underking对晨风有着强烈的仇恨,但他在2纪元547年却被审判席女神Almalexia召唤出来共同对抗来自Akaviri大陆的恶魔族袭击.

Sload人———————-是释放Thrassian瘟疫的元凶,后来遭到Tamriel大陆各民族的报复而灭亡.

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Night Falls on Sentinel
by Boali
How a knight weeds out an enemy of the king


No music played in the Nameless Tavern in Sentinel, and indeed there was very little sound except for discreet, cautious murmurs of conversation, the soft pad of the barmaid's feet on stone, and the delicate slurping of the regular patrons, tongues lapping at their flagons, eyes focused on nothing at all. If anyone were less otherwise occupied, the sight of the youngRedguard woman in a fine black velvet cape might have aroused surprise. Even suspicion. As it were, the strange figure, out of place in an underground cellar so modest it had no sign, blended into the shadows.
"Are you Jomic?"
The stout, middle-aged man with a face older than his years looked up and nodded. He returned to his drink. The young woman took the seat next to him.
"My name is Haballa," she said and pulled out a small bag of gold, placing it next to his mug.
"Sure it be," snarled Jomic, and met her eyes again. "Who d'you want dead?"
She did not turn away, but merely asked, "Is it safe to talk here?"
"No one cares about nobody else's problems but their own here. You could take off your cuirass and dance bare-breasted on the table, and no one'd even spit," the man smiled. "So who d'you want dead?"
"No one, actually," said Haballa. "The truth is, I only want someone ... removed, for a while. Not harmed, you understand, and that's why I need a professional. You come highly recommended."
"Who you been talking to?" asked Jomic dully, returning to his drink.
"A friend of a friend of a friend of a friend."
"One of them friends don't know what he's talking about," grumbled the man. "I don't do that any more."
Haballa quietly took out another purse of gold and then another, placing them at the man's elbow. He looked at her for a moment and then poured the gold out and began counting. As he did, he asked, "Who d'you want removed?"
"Just a moment," smiled Haballa, shaking her head. "Before we talk details, I want to know that you're a professional, and you won't harm this person very much. And that you'll be discreet."
"You want discreet?" the man paused in his counting. "Awright, I'll tell you about an old job of mine. It's been - by Arkay, I can hardly believe it - more 'n twenty years, and no one but me's alive who had anything to do with the job. This is back afore the time of the War of Betony, remember that?"
"I was just a baby."
"'Course you was," Jomic smiled. "Everyone knows that King Lhotun had an older brother Greklithwhat died, right? And then he's got his older sister Aubki, what married that King fella inDaggerfall. But the truth's that he had two elder brothers."
"Really?" Haballa's eyes glistened with interest.
"No lie," he chuckled. "Weedy, feeble fella called Arthago, the King and Queen's first born. Anyhow, this prince was heir to the throne, which his parents wasn't too thrilled about, but then the Queen she squeezed out two more princes who looked a lot more fit. That's when me and my boys got hired on, to make it look like the first prince got took off by the Underking or some such story."
"I had no idea!" the young woman whispered.
"Of course you didn't, that's the point," Jomic shook his head. "Discretion, like you said. We bagged the boy, dropped him off deep in an old ruin, and that was that. No fuss. Just a couple fellas, a bag, and a club."
"That's what I'm interested in," said Haballa. "Technique. My... friend who needs to be taken away is weak also, like this Prince. What is the club for?"
"It's a tool. So many things what was better in the past ain't around no more, just 'cause people today prefer ease of use to what works right. Let me explain: there're seventy-one prime pain centers in an average fella's body. Elves and Khajiiti, being so sensitive and all, got three and four more respectively. Argonians and Sloads, almost as many at fifty-two and sixty-seven," Jomic used his short stubby finger to point out each region on Haballa's body. "Six in your forehead, two in your brow, two on your nose, seven in your throat, ten in your chest, nine in your abdomen, three on each arm, twelve in your groin, four in your favored leg, five in the other."
"That's sixty-three," replied Haballa.
"No, it's not," growled Jomic.
"Yes, it is," the young lady cried back, indignant that her mathematical skills were being question: "Six plus two plus two plus seven plus ten plus nine plus three for one arm and three for the other plus twelve plus four plus five. Sixty-three."
"I must've left some out," shrugged Jomic. "The important thing is that to become skilled with a staff or club, you gotta be a master of these pain centers. Done right, a light tap could kill, or knock out without so much as a bruise."
"Fascinating," smiled Haballa. "And no one ever found out?"
"Why would they? The boy's parents, the King and Queen, they're both dead now. The other children always thought their brother got carried off by the Underking. That's what everyone thinks. And all my partners are dead."
"Of natural causes?"
"Ain't nothing natural that ever happens in the Bay, you know that. One fella got sucked up by one of them Selenu. Another died a that same plague that took the Queen and Prince Greklith. 'Nother fella got hisself beat up to death by a burglar. You gotta keep low, outta sight, like me, if you wanna stay alive." Jomic finished counting the coins. "You must want this fella out of the way bad. Who is it?"
"It's better if I show you," said Haballa, standing up. Without a look back, she strode out of the Nameless Tavern.
Jomic drained his beer and went out. The night was cool with an unrestrained wind surging off the water of the Iliac Bay, sending leaves flying like whirling shards. Haballa stepped out of the alleyway next to the tavern, and gestured to him. As he approached her, the breeze blew open her cape, revealing the armor beneath and the crest of the King of Sentinel.
The fat man stepped back to flee, but she was too fast. In a blur, he found himself in the alley on his back, the woman's knee pressed firmly against his throat.
"The King has spent years since he took the throne looking for you and your collaborators, Jomic. His instructions to me what to do when I found you were not specific, but you've given me an idea."
From her belt, Haballa removed a small sturdy cudgel.
A drunk stumbling out of the bar heard a whimpered moan accompanied by a soft whisper coming from the darkness of the alley: "Let's keep better count this time. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven..."

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