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【书籍搬运】Unsent Afflicted Letter 未寄出的苦痛信函

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原文地址:http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Skyrim:Unsent_Afflicted_Letter

翻译:花溪流萤

亲爱的德普汉姆—你一定认为不同你们一起离开库·埃罗的我是个傻瓜,但是我实在无法遗弃我们病入膏肓的孩子。不管你怎么猜测,都远无法料想,降临于我们身上可怕命运的真相。

我寄出这封信是为了抚慰一颗不安的心灵。

大约在你和那些尚未感染的健康亲族离开一周之后,我在矮墙上面步行巡逻。我们可怜的凯特(一匹马)也染病了,无法骑乘。我一直在祈祷强盗们不会蠢到冒着被感染的危险打劫我们微不足道的财产。这时,从夜晚柴火光芒映照下的地平线处,我看见一个高大的男人正朝我们村庄走来。

这个不速之客是个夏暮岛精灵,他自我介绍说自己叫奥岑多,就是因为这个男人,库·埃罗留守亲族的命运被改变了。

奥岑多信步穿梭于我们之中,丝毫不害怕被传染,深入包括我在内每个留下的染病村民之间,接下来的几天他都和我们一起吃饭和交谈,了解每个人的名字。他让那些我的谎言无法安抚的患者镇定下来,在这个死亡之地绝望等待死亡的日子里,大家的精神倍受鼓舞。

然后奥岑多把村民们召集于库丽特的谷仓中,她这个时候已经奄奄一息,不在奥岑多搀扶下已动弹不得。

然后这个慈爱的精灵给我们带来了意想不到的讯息。他声称这场瘟疫不像我们想象的那样是对村庄的诅咒,而是,奥岑多强调道,这是他给予我们的恩惠。他告诉我们他是迪德拉的 王子佩伊特的仆人。

我知道你怎么想—我们才烧死了蒂娜和卢卡斯不到三年,我们之中不允许存在对迪德拉的邪恶崇拜。但是,我们答应了,不仅如此我们还专心听取了他的讲话。或许你认为我们当时病得太厉害,太虚弱了(以至神志不清),但我们没有(还很清醒)。

奥岑多 对我们的死者致歉,说他听到消息就立马赶到库·埃罗。他来之后没有一个人死去,尽管一些已经处于死亡边缘。他想要把我们带到一个新家,那里我们可以活下去,只要我们信仰佩伊特。作为他的苦痛之民。

没有人拒绝,一些人被手推车推着,一些人被担架抬着,但是所有人都跟随着奥岑多, 艰难跋涉着穿越了天际省的边际,留下空荡荡的库·埃罗成为死寂之地。

从那以后,我们居住在一个古老矮人城市遗迹的庇护所中。与其他的苦痛子民们同居于此,他们的遭遇和我们差不多,因为神圣的传染病而走到一起。尽管你认为我们都疯了,然而这个疾病不仅没有令我们虚弱,反而给于我们力量,我们用烈酒和酊剂这些其他人当作毒药的东西自我疗伤。

奥岑多在此保证我们的安全,只要我们信奉佩伊特王子,我现在也是一个痛苦使徒,以传播 佩伊特 王子的苦痛教义为使命。

就这样,亲爱的德普汉姆, 库·埃罗的精神被传播开来,我永远不会责备你,尽管那天你抛弃了我们,但一切都过去了。实际上,我对你没有和我们一样被佩伊特 选中接受灵魂的洗涤而感到遗憾。 佩伊特 保佑,我亲爱的丈夫,你的孩子们一切安好。

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Unsent Afflicted Letter


Beloved Duphraime - I know you thought me a fool not to leave Cul Aloue with you and the others, but I couldn't abandon our children to the wasting sickness. Whatever horrible fates you may have guessed for us, however, are probably far from the truth of what has happened.
I send this letter in hopes that it will sooth [sic] a worried mind.
Maybe a week after you left with the rest of the healthy folk, I was patrolling the low wall by foot. Even our poor Kelter had taken the illness and was unfit to ride. I was praying that no bandits would be foolish enough to risk infection for our trifling goods. Then, outlined against the pyre-light of the day's lost, I saw a long figure marching towards the village.
The stranger was a Sumerset elf who introduced himself as Orchendor, and with him came a change in destiny for the folk of Cul Aloue.
Orchendor walked among our people without fear of the wasting sickness that had taken root in the marrow of every remaining villager, myself included by now. For days he ate and spoke with us, learning each name. He calmed the folk in a way my lying prayers could not. Spirits became cheerful that days before awaited bleakly in the death's parlor.
Orchendor assembled us then, crowding the villagers into Cullete's barn, she being the most badly stricken at that time, and unable to move without being carried by Orchendor himself.
The good elf then gave us tidings that none could have guessed. He claimed that the sickness was not a curse on our village, as we were sure it had been. Rather, Orchendor insisted, it was a boon, a beacon which drew him to us. He told us that he served the Daedric Prince Peryite.
I know what you're thinking - we burned Dina and Lucas not three years before, after all. Cul Aloue would never suffer the heresies of a Daedra Worshipper in our midst. Yet, we did. Not only that, but we raptly heard what he had to say. Maybe you think we were too sick, too weak, but we weren't.
Orchendor apologized for our dead, saying he came with all haste to Cul Aloue. None had perished since his arrival, though several seemed on the brink in the hours before. He wanted to take us to a new home, a place where we could live out our days in worship of Peryite as his chosen. As his Afflicted.
Nobody refused. Some were carried in carts and litters, but all made the trek with Orchendor across the border into Skyrim, leaving Cul Aloue an empty, haunted place.
We have since lived in refuge, the ruins of an ancient Dwarven city. Other Afflicted live with us, many with similar tales to that of Cul Aloue, bound together by our divine infection. Though you could say we are all sick, the effects of the sickness no longer diminish us, but give us strength. We heal ourselves with liquors and tinctures that other men would call poison.
Orchendor keeps us safe here, by the blessing of our Prince Peryite. I am now an Apostle of the Afflicted, tasked to disseminate the teachings of Peryite to our Afflicted.
And so, sweet Duphraime, the spirit of Cul Aloue lives on. I will never blame you for abandoning us that day, now long past. In truth, I am saddened that you were not likewise chosen by Peryite to awake [sic] with these oozing lungs. Peryite preserve you, dear husband, and know your children are well.

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