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【书籍搬运】Orsinium and the Orcs 奥辛纽姆与兽人

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遗弃之地是如何落入兽族之手
 
 作者
 梅林纳·格索特

那年是第三纪元第399年,一个上了年纪而又博学多才的法官站在山上,俯瞰着墨涅维亚和威里斯之间的广大土地。他既是一个仲裁官,也是一个地方法官,断案公正严明。
 
 “孩子,你有充分的理由得到这片土地”法官说,“这件事上我绝不马虎。但是你的对手理由也很充分。这也就是为什么做个好法官如此困难的原因”
 
 “你说他是我的竞争对手?”博文勋爵轻蔑的说道,用手示意了一下那个兽人。这个叫做高特沃格·格罗·纳果姆的人抬起头,用可怜的眼神看着大家。
 
 “他有足够的文件证明自己应该得到这片土地”仲裁官耸了耸肩,“而且我们地区专有的法律并不歧视特定的种族。数十年以前我们还有一个波兹莫摄政王呢”
 
 “但如果一头猪或是一条食人鱼站出来宣示自己对土地的所有权呢?他们和我享有同样的法律权益?”
 
 “如果他们有相应的资料,恐怕是这样的”法官微笑着说,“法律说得很清楚,如果两个原告对同一件物品所有权相同,在这种僵局下,我们只能透过决斗来判定归属。现在,这些规定都是老古董了,但我获得了查看它们的机会,而且我认为这些规定效力仍在。帝国议会对此持相同意见”
 
 “我们该怎么做?”兽人问道。他的声音谦恭而又刺耳,看来还没习惯科尔迪伊斯地区的口音。
 
 “第一原告,也就是你,高特沃格先生,请选择决斗者的护甲和武器。第二个原告,也就是博文先生,请选择决斗地点。你们可以自己上斗场;如果你们愿意,也可以选择一位战士替自己打。
 
 布莱顿人和兽人对视着,考虑着。最后,高特沃格说,“护甲是兽人护甲,武器是普通的钢制长剑,不附魔,不准用魔法”
 
 “角斗场设在我表亲贝瑞里斯别墅的院子中间,那间别墅位于威里斯”博文说,轻蔑的看着高特沃格。“而且不允许兽人临场观看角斗”
 
 就这样定下来了。高特沃格宣称要自己战斗,而博文,作为一个身体很棒的小伙子,觉得如果他不自己参战,他的人格就受到了侮辱。尽管如此,他比预定的决斗时间提前一周到达他表亲的住宅,他觉得他还需要战斗训练。平生第一次,博文身着沉重的兽人护甲,那是他刚刚买来的,他觉得行动很不方便。
 
 博文和贝瑞里斯在院子中开始了格斗训练。过了十分钟,博文不得不停止训练。他面色发红,气喘吁吁,仅仅是因为他穿着这身护甲,行动不便。更令他恼火的是,他一剑也没有刺中他的表兄,而他的表兄却刺了他十几剑。
 
 “我不知道该怎么做”晚饭的时候,博文说,“就算我知道谁可以穿着那身可恶的盔甲出战,我也没法把他送到和高特沃格决斗的战场上”
 
 贝瑞里斯很同情他。当仆人们开始收拾餐具,博文站起来指着一个仆人说,“你没告诉我你还有个兽人为你工作?!”
 
 “请问阁下……”那个年老的兽人呜咽道,看向贝瑞里斯先生,很确定自己以某种方式冒犯了博文。
 
 “你说老特纳?”贝瑞里斯笑着说,“他为我工作已经有好多年了。你要不要他给你讲解一下如何身着兽人护甲四处移动?”
 
 “您需要吗?”特纳谄媚的说道。
 
 贝瑞里斯对此并不了解,但他现在知道了,他的仆人曾经是高岩传奇的诅咒军团的一员。不仅知道如何身着兽人护甲作战,还曾经在退伍开始仆人工作之前当过一段时间的军队教官。毫无办法的博文立即让他成为了自己的全职教练。
 
 “先生,你用力过猛了”训练第一天,兽人说道,“在沉重的盔甲中耗尽力气很正常。这些接头的作用是为了让你用很小的力气伸展肢体。如果你的力量和接头的力量相反,你就没有和敌人战斗的力气了”
 
 博文试着遵照特纳的指示,但他很快就变得十分沮丧。他越沮丧,训练就越努力,很快就十分疲惫。当他停下来休息,贝瑞里斯和他的仆人谈了谈。如果他们对博文的前景还存留有乐观情绪的话,他们的表情可没显示出这一点。
 
 接下来的两天,博文训练得十分努力,但是紧接着第三天就是艾丽索娜小姐的生日,博文在宴会上尽情享乐。第一道菜是罂粟酒、肥鹅和和肚子里填满了奶油的牛膝草烤鸡;第二道菜是烤梭子鱼,梳麦汁,兔肉丸子;主菜是狐舌薄片,带牡蛎肉汁的布丁,杂菜和豆子;甜点是“入口即化”冰沙和油煎糖饼。当博文疲倦的仰坐下来,他突然发现高特沃格和法官走进了这间屋子。
 
 “你在做什么!”他大喊到,“决斗不是两天之后吗!”
 
 “高特沃格先生说我们可以把决斗放在晚上”法官说,“我的使者两天前到达这里的时候,你还在训练,但是他的主人,你的表兄为你求情,改变了决斗的日期”
 
 “但是这样就没时间召集我的支持者了”博文抱怨道,“而且我刚刚吃了太多,足够撑死一个食量小的人。表哥,你怎么能不告诉我呢?”
 
 “我对特纳说过此事”贝瑞里斯说道,脸红了,对自己骗局被拆穿感到不自在,“我们认为在这种局面下你才能发挥出自己的全部潜能”
 
 几乎没几个人现场观看这场决斗。吃的太饱了,博文发现自己没法快速移动。令他吃惊的是,护甲在他慢悠悠的步调下运转的很好,尽管他步履蹒跚,盔甲的每一个部位却顺畅而优美的运作着,他成功的控制着自己的护甲,利用大脑而不是身体控制攻击与防御的行动。平生第一次,博文真正透过兽人头盔看清楚了外面的世界。
 
 他当然是悲惨的输了,而且如果把比分制表的话,我们会看得更清楚。高特沃格简直就是个战斗大师,但是博文顽强抵抗了三个小时,直到法官很不情愿的宣布高特沃格胜利。
 
 “我会把这片土地命名为奥辛纽姆,这是我父亲土地的名字”胜利者说。
 
 博文最初的想法是如果他要输给一个兽人,他的朋友和家人没有目睹这场战斗最好了。那个晚上,当他离开角斗场,到自己梦寐以求的床上去睡觉的时候,他看到高特沃格和特纳在谈话。虽然他听不懂他们在说什么,他意识到这两个人互相认识。当布莱顿人们都上床以后,他叫了一个仆人,把那个老兽人叫来见他。
 
 “特纳”,他和蔼的说,“和我说实话,你想要高特沃格获胜”
 
 “没错”特纳说道,“但我没有让你失望。先生,你比两天前打得好多了,我不希望奥辛纽姆不经战斗就落入它未来的国王手中”

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How Orsinium Passed to the Orcs
by Menyna Gsost
The story of how Gortwog won the land to the north of Wayrest

 Note: This book exists in MorrowindOblivion, and Skyrim. The only difference is the book's inventory name: in Morrowind, it is identified as "How Orsinium Passed to the Orcs"; in Oblivion, it is identified as "How Orsinium Passed to Orcs" (no 'the'), and in Skyrim, it is "Orsinium and the Orcs".
 The year was 3E 399 and standing on a mountainside overlooking a vast tract of land between the lands of Menevia and Wayrest was a great and learned judge, an arbitrator and magistrate, impartial in his submission to the law.
“You have a very strong claim to the land, my lad,” said the judge. “I won't lie to you about that. But your competition has an equal claim. This is what makes my particular profession difficult at times.”
“You would call it my competition?” sneered Lord Bowyn, gesturing to the Orc. The creature, called Gortwog gro-Nagorm, looked up with baleful eyes.
“He has ample documentation to make a claim on the land,” the magistrate shrugged. “And the particular laws of our land do not discriminate between particular races. We had a Bosmer regency once, many generations ago.”
“But what if a pig or a slaughterfish turned up demanding the property? Would they have the same legal rights as I?”
“If they had the proper papers, I'm afraid so,” smiled the judge. “The law is very clear that if two claimants with equal titles to the property are set in deadlock, a duel must be held. Now, the rules are fairly archaic, but I've had opportunity to look them over, and I think they're still valid. The Imperial council agrees.”
“What must we do?” asked the Orc, his voice low and harsh, unused to the tongue of theCyrodiils.
“The first claimant, that's you, Lord Gortwog, may choose the armor and weapon of the duelists. The second claimant, that's you, Lord Bowyn, may choose the location. If you would prefer, either or both you may choose a champion or you may duel yourself.”
The Breton and the Orc looked at one another, evaluating. Finally, Gortwog spoke, “The armor will be Orcish and the weapons will be common steel long swords. No enchantments. No wizardry allowed.”
“The arena will be the central courtyard of my cousin Lord Berylth's palace in Wayrest,” said Bowyn, looking Gortwog in the eye scornfully. “None of your kind will be allowed in to witness.”
So it was agreed. Gortwog declared that he would fight the duel himself, and Bowyn, who was a fairly young man and in better than average condition, felt that he could not keep his honor without competing himself as well. Still, upon arriving at his cousin's palace a week before the duel was scheduled, he felt the need to practice. A suit of Orcish armor was purchased and for the first time in his life, Bowyn wore something of tremendous weight and limited facility.
Bowyn and Berylth sparred in the courtyard. In ten minutes times, Bowyn had to stop. He was red-faced and out of breath from trying to move in the armor: to add to his exasperation, he had not scored one blow on his cousin, and had dozens of feinted strikes scored on him.
“I don't know what to do,” said Bowyn over dinner. “Even if I knew someone who could fight properly in that beastly steel, I couldn't possibly send in a champion to battle Gortwog.”
Berylth commiserated. As the servants cleared the plates, Bowyn stood up in his seat and pointed at one of them: “You didn't tell me you had an Orc in your household!”
“Sir?” whined the elderly specimen, turning to Lord Berylth, certain that he caused offense somehow.
“You mean Old Tunner?” laughed Berylith. “He's been with my house for ages. Would you like him to give you training on how to move in Orcish armor?”
“Would you like me to?” asked Tunner obsequiously.
Unknown to Berylith but known to him now, his servant had once ridden with the legendary Cursed Legion of High Rock. He not only knew how to fight in Orcish armor himself, but he had acted as trainer to other Orcs before retiring into domestic service. Desperate, Bowyn immediately engaged him as his full-time trainer.
“Your [sic] try too hard, sir,” said the Orc on their first day in the arena. “It is easy to strain yourself in heavy mail. The joints are just so to let you to bend with only a little effort. If you fight against the joints, you won't have any strength to fight your foe.”
Bowyn tried to follow Tunner's instructions, but he quickly grew frustrated. And the more frustrated he got, the more intensity he put into his work, which tired him out even quicker. While he took a break to drink some water, Berylith spoke to his servant. If they were optimistic about Bowyn's chances, their faces did not show it.
Tunner trained Bowyn hard the next two days, but her Ladyship Elysora's birthday followed hard upon them, and Bowyn enjoyed the feast thoroughly. A liquor of poppies and goose fat, and cock tinsh with buttered hyssop for a first course; roasted pike, combwort, and balls of rabbit meat for a second; sliced fox tongues, ballom pudding with oyster gravy, battaglir weed and beans for the main course; collequiva ice and sugar fritters for dessert. As Bowyn was settling back afterwards, his eyes weary, he suddenly spied Gortwog and the judge entering the room.
“What are you doing here?” he cried. “The duel's not for another two days!”
“Lord Gortwog asked that we move it to tonight,” said the judge. “You were training when my emisary arrived two days ago, but his lordship your cousin spoke for you, agreeing to the change of date.”
“But there's no time to assemble my supporters,” complained Bowyn. “And I've just devoured a feast that would kill a lesser man. Cousin, how could you neglect to tell me?”
“I spoke to Tunner about it,” said Berylith, blushing, unused to deception. “We decided that you would be best served under these conditions.”
The battle in the arena was sparsely attended. Saturated with food, Bowyn found himself unable to move very quickly. To his surprise, the armor responded to his lethargy, rotating smoothly and elegantly to each stagger. The more he successfully maneuvered, the more he allowed his mind and not his body to control his defensive and offensive actions. For the first time in his life, Bowyn saw what it was to look through the helmet of an Orc.
Of course, he lost, and rather badly if scores had been tabulated. Gortwog was a master of such battle. But Bowyn fought on for more than three hours before the judge reluctantly called a winner.
“I will name the land Orsinium after the land of my fathers,” said the victor.
Bowyn's first thought was that if he must lose to an Orc, it was best that the battle was largely unwatched by his friends and family. As he left the courtyard to go to the bed he had longed for earlier in the evening, he saw Gortwog speaking to Tunner. Though he did not understand the language, he could see that they knew each other. When the Breton was in bed, he had a servant bring the old Orc to him.
“Tunner,” he said kindly. “Speak frankly to me. You wanted Lord Gortwog to win.”
“That is true,” said Tunner. “But I did not fail you. You fought better than you would have fought two days hence, sir. I did not want Orsinium to be won by its king without a fight.”

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