Chapter 32: The Stonewatch Sentinel （石望哨兵）

　　Dawn broke, grey and reluctant, over the rain-soaked hills. Leon emerged from his rocky crevice stiff and cold, his clothes still damp. The memory of the previous day's carnage was a fresh wound in his mind. He ate a small, tasteless piece of waybread, his appetite gone. The forest, which had once felt like a refuge, now felt like a cage with invisible predators lurking behind every tree.

　　黎明在雨淋淋的山丘上降临，天色灰暗，似乎不情愿。里昂从岩石裂缝中出来，浑身僵硬冰冷，衣服仍然潮湿。前一天杀戮的记忆在他脑海中如同新伤。他吃了一小块无味的旅行面包，毫无食欲。曾经感觉像避难所的森林，现在感觉像一个笼子，每棵树后都潜伏着无形的捕食者。

　　He knew he couldn't stay in the valley. The gnolls would be ranging far and wide. He needed to get higher, to find a vantage point and perhaps a safer path. Scrambling up the steep, muddy slopes, he used roots and rocks for handholds, his progress slow and arduous. The rain had made the ground treacherous. By mid-morning, he had reached a higher ridge, the trees thinning out to reveal a breathtaking, if terrifying, view.

　　他知道不能留在山谷里。豺狼人会四处游荡。他需要到更高的地方，寻找一个有利位置，也许还有更安全的路径。他爬上陡峭泥泞的山坡，用树根和岩石作抓手，前进缓慢而艰难。雨水使地面变得危险。到了上午中段，他爬上了一道更高的山脊，树木变得稀疏，展现出令人惊叹（也令人恐惧）的景色。

　　To the north, the land rose sharply into the jagged peaks of the Redridge Mountains, their tops lost in the clouds. To the east, the land fell away into the vast, misty expanse of the Redridge Gorge. And there, perched on a sheer cliff overlooking the gorge, he saw it: a stone tower. It was old, its crenellations worn by wind and weather, but it stood firm. A flag, faded but recognizable as the golden lion of Stormwind, fluttered weakly from its peak. Stonewatch Keep. Or at least, one of its outlying watchtowers.

　　北方，地势陡然上升，形成赤脊山嶙峋的山峰，峰顶隐没在云中。东方，地势下降，落入广阔雾蒙蒙的赤脊峡谷。在那里，在俯瞰峡谷的陡峭悬崖上，他看到了：一座石塔。它很古老，城垛被风雨侵蚀，但依然坚固。一面旗帜，虽褪色但仍可辨认是暴风城的金色雄狮，在塔顶无力地飘动。石望要塞。或者至少是它的一个外围瞭望塔。

　　Hope, fragile and desperate, flickered in his chest. Humans. Soldiers. Safety.

　　He began to pick his way along the ridge towards the tower, his heart lifting with each step. As he drew closer, however, his hope began to curdle into unease. The path to the tower was too quiet. There were no signs of patrols, no smoke from cooking fires. The only sound was the wind whistling through the rocks.

　　脆弱而绝望的希望在他胸中闪烁。人类。士兵。安全。

　　他开始沿着山脊向塔的方向前进，每走一步心情都更轻松。然而，随着他靠近，希望开始变成不安。通往塔的路太安静了。没有巡逻的迹象，没有炊烟。唯一的声音是风呼啸过岩石。

　　He reached the base of the tower. A heavy wooden door, reinforced with iron bands, stood slightly ajar. Scorch marks blackened the stone around it. The air smelled of old smoke and something else, something foul and metallic—a scent he had come to associate with death. His hand went to the knife at his belt.

　　他到达塔底。一扇用铁条加固的沉重木门半开着。门周围的石头上有烧焦的痕迹。空气中弥漫着旧烟味和另一种东西，一种恶臭的金属味——一种他开始与死亡联系在一起的气味。他的手摸向腰间的刀。

　　Pushing the door open slowly, he peered inside. The lower chamber was a wreck. Overturned tables, shattered crates, and dark stains on the stone floor. A few arrows were embedded in the walls. In the center of the room, a cold fireplace held the ashes of a long-dead fire. The place had been attacked, and abandoned.

　　他慢慢推开门，向里窥视。下层房间一片狼藉。翻倒的桌子、破碎的板条箱、石地板上的深色污渍。几支箭插在墙上。房间中央，一个冰冷的壁炉里是早已熄灭的灰烬。这地方被袭击过，并被遗弃了。

　　He climbed the narrow stone stairs to the top of the tower, each step echoing in the oppressive silence. The watchroom was empty save for a broken spyglass and a discarded helmet. He walked to the window and looked out over the gorge. The view was magnificent, a sweeping panorama of the misty chasm. But it was a view of emptiness and desolation. There were no signs of life, no movement on the distant roads. The tower was a tomb.

　　他爬上狭窄的石阶来到塔顶，每一步都在压抑的寂静中回响。瞭望室空无一物，只有一个破碎的望远镜和一顶丢弃的头盔。他走到窗前，俯瞰峡谷。景色壮丽，是雾蒙蒙峡谷的全景。但这是一种空旷和荒凉的景色。没有生命的迹象，远处的道路上没有动静。这座塔是一座坟墓。

　　He sank to the floor, his back against the cold stone wall. The brief surge of hope had drained away, leaving him emptier than before. He was truly alone. The forces of his own kingdom were stretched thin, unable to hold even their remote outposts. The world was far larger and far more dangerous than the maps in Stormwind's libraries suggested.

　　他瘫坐在地上，背靠着冰冷的石墙。短暂的希望浪潮已退去，让他比之前更空虚。他真的孤身一人。他自己王国的力量捉襟见肘，连偏远的前哨站都守不住。这个世界比暴风城图书馆地图上显示的要大得多，也危险得多。

　　As he sat there in the gloom, a new sound reached him—not the wind, but a soft, rhythmic scraping. It came from below. He froze, his breath catching in his throat. He wasn't alone after all.

　　当他在昏暗中坐着时，一个新的声音传来——不是风声，而是一种轻柔、有节奏的刮擦声。来自下方。他僵住了，呼吸卡在喉咙里。他毕竟不是一个人。

　　Drawing his knife, he crept back down the stairs, his heart pounding. The sound was coming from a small, low doorway he had missed earlier, likely leading to a storage cellar. The door was broken, hanging from one hinge. The scraping was clearer now, interspersed with a low, pained whimper.

　　他拔出刀，爬回楼梯，心脏狂跳。声音来自一扇他早先没注意到的小矮门，可能通向储藏地窖。门破了，挂在一个铰链上。刮擦声现在更清晰了，夹杂着低沉痛苦的呜咽。

　　He peered around the doorframe. In the dark cellar, huddled in a corner, was a man. He was wearing the tattered remains of a Stormwind guard uniform. One of his legs was bent at an unnatural angle, and he was using a piece of broken wood to feebly scrape at the stone floor. He was gaunt, his face pale and streaked with dirt. He looked up as Leon entered, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and wild hope.

　　他朝门框内窥视。黑暗的地窖里，角落蜷缩着一个人。他穿着暴风城卫兵制服的破烂残余。一条腿不自然地弯曲着，他正用一块碎木头无力地刮擦石地板。他骨瘦如柴，脸色苍白，满是污垢。里昂进来时他抬起头，眼睛睁大，混杂着恐惧和狂野的希望。

　　"Who... who's there?" the man croaked, his voice raw. "Are you... are you real?"

　　“谁……谁在那儿？”那人声音沙哑地说。“你……你是真人吗？”

　　Leon lowered his knife, his own fear replaced by a surge of pity. "I'm real," he said softly, stepping into the cellar. "My name is Leon. I'm from Goldshire."

　　里昂放下刀，自己的恐惧被一阵怜悯取代。“我是真人，”他轻声说，走进地窖。“我叫里昂。从闪金镇来。”

　　The soldier let out a sob that was half-laugh, half-cry. "Goldshire... Light preserve me, it's been so long." He tried to push himself up, but collapsed with a gasp of pain. "The gnolls... they overran us a week ago. I fell down the stairs... hid here. I thought... I thought I was the last one."

　　士兵发出一声半笑半哭的抽泣。“闪金镇……圣光保佑，太久了。”他试图撑起身子，但痛得喘不过气又倒下了。“豺狼人……一周前攻占了这里。我摔下楼梯……藏在这里。我以为……我以为我是最后一个。”

　　Leon knelt beside him. The man was badly injured and starving. He fumbled in his pack and brought out his water skin and a piece of waybread. The soldier drank greedily, then devoured the bread with trembling hands.

　　里昂跪在他身边。这人伤重且饥饿。他在包里摸索，拿出水袋和一块旅行面包。士兵贪婪地喝水，然后用颤抖的手吞下面包。

　　As the man ate, Leon looked around the cellar. It was a pitiful shelter. "We can't stay here," Leon said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands. "They might come back."

　　那人吃东西时，里昂环顾地窖。这是个可怜的庇护所。“我们不能留在这里，”里昂说，尽管手在颤抖，声音却很坚定。“它们可能会回来。”

　　The soldier nodded weakly. "Aye. But I can't walk, lad. You... you should go. Save yourself."

　　Leon looked at the broken man, then at the door leading back to the wilderness. He thought of his father, of the lessons of duty and compassion he had been taught, even if they had felt stifling in Goldshire. He thought of Iris, and the bond they had forged in helping each other survive. He couldn't leave him.

　　士兵虚弱地点头。“是啊。但我走不了，孩子。你……你应该走。救你自己。”

　　里昂看着这个残破的人，又看看通往荒野的门。他想起了父亲，想起他被教导的责任和同情心，即使在闪金镇时感觉窒息。他想起了艾莉丝，以及他们在互相帮助生存中建立的联系。他不能丢下他。

　　"No," Leon said, the word surprising him with its certainty. "I'm not leaving you."

　　He had found no sanctuary in the tower, but he had found a purpose. The journey north would have to wait. First, he had to get this man to safety. The wanderer was gone, for now. The survivor had taken his place.

　　“不，”里昂说，这个词的确定性让他自己都惊讶。“我不会丢下你。”

　　他在塔里没有找到避难所，但找到了一个目标。北上之旅必须等待。首先，他必须把这个人带到安全的地方。流浪者暂时消失了。幸存者取而代之。