Chapter 39: The Trail of Smoke and Stone （烟与石之径）

　　Dawn in the high mountains was a brutal, beautiful affair. The sun's first rays painted the jagged peaks in fiery orange, but the air in the deep valleys remained bitingly cold. Leon emerged from behind the waterfall stiff and shivering, his breath pluming in the thin air. The thunderous water had masked the sounds of the night, but also left him feeling deafened and disoriented. He ate a handful of nuts and dried fruit, his body craving the warmth of a fire he dared not light.

　　高山上的黎明既壮丽又严酷。初升的阳光将嶙峋的山峰染成火橙色，但深谷中的空气依然刺骨寒冷。里昂从瀑布后钻出来，浑身僵硬发抖，在稀薄的空气中呼出白气。震耳的水声掩盖了夜晚的声响，但也让他感觉耳聋和迷失。他吃了一把坚果和干果，身体渴望着他不敢点燃的篝火的温暖。

　　The trail led upwards, always upwards, winding through dense pine forests and across treacherous scree slopes. The air grew thinner, making his heart pound with the slightest exertion. He moved with a hunter's caution, his senses stretched to their limit. This was not the tame woodland of Elwynn; every shadow felt like it held a threat. He saw more of the massive paw prints, and once, far below in a valley, he glimpsed a creature of immense size and shaggy fur moving through the mist—a mountain yeti, a beast of legend. He froze, pressed against a rock, until it disappeared from view.

　　小径向上延伸，始终向上，蜿蜒穿过茂密的松林和危险的碎石坡。空气越来越稀薄，稍一用力就让他心跳加速。他以猎人的谨慎移动，感官绷紧到极限。这不是艾尔文那些温顺的林地；每个影子都仿佛潜藏威胁。他看到了更多巨大的爪印，有一次，在下方山谷中，他瞥见一个体型巨大、毛发粗浓的生物在雾中移动——一只山地雪人，传说中的野兽。他僵住了，紧贴岩石，直到它从视野中消失。

　　The acrid smell of smoke grew stronger as the day wore on, a constant reminder that he was not alone in this wilderness. It was the smell of green-wood fires and scorched meat—the smell of orcs. He was getting close.

　　随着时间推移，刺鼻的烟味越来越浓，不断提醒他在这片荒野中他并非独行。那是湿柴火和烧焦肉类的味道——兽人的味道。他接近了。

　　By midday, he reached a high ridge that offered a sweeping view of the northern slopes. Below, in a bowl-shaped valley choked with sparse trees and boulders, he saw the source of the smoke. It was not a full-blown settlement, but a makeshift outpost: a cluster of hide tents and rough lean-tos huddled around a central fire pit. Figures moved about—tall, broad-shouldered, with greenish skin and tusks. Orcs. Perhaps two dozen of them. They were armed with axes and crude bows. Among them, pacing restlessly, were two massive wolves—wargs, larger and more vicious-looking than the worgs he had seen in Silverpine.

　　中午时分，他到达一道能俯瞰北坡全景的高耸山脊。下方，在一个稀疏树木和巨石遍布的碗状山谷中，他看到了烟的来源。那不是完整的定居点，而是一个临时前哨：一圈兽皮帐篷和粗糙窝棚围着一个中央火坑。有身影在活动——高大、肩膀宽阔、绿皮肤、长獠牙。兽人。大概二十多个。他们手持斧头和粗糙的弓。在他们中间，不安地踱步的是两头巨大的狼——座狼，比他在银松森林见过的更大、更凶恶。

　　His blood ran cold. This was the enemy his father had spoken of with such hatred, the enemy that had scarred the land and the people of Stormwind. Seeing them here, in their element, was different from hearing stories. They were not monsters from a fable; they were organized, purposeful, and utterly alien. They belonged to this harsh landscape in a way he never could.

　　他的血都凉了。这是他父亲带着如此仇恨谈论的敌人，是给这片土地和暴风城人民留下伤痕的敌人。在这里看到他们，在他们的地盘上，与听故事的感觉不同。他们不是寓言中的怪物；他们有组织、有目的，而且完全陌生。他们属于这片严酷的土地，而他永远无法如此。

　　He lay on his stomach, hidden behind a rocky outcrop, and watched for a long time. He saw no human prisoners, no signs of immediate aggression. They seemed to be a scouting party, or perhaps hunters, resting in the valley. But their presence was a wall blocking his path north. To continue, he would have to go around them, through even higher and more treacherous terrain.

　　他趴在地上，藏在岩石露头后面，观察了很长时间。他没有看到人类囚犯，没有立即攻击的迹象。他们似乎是一支侦察队，或者是猎人，在山谷中休息。但他们的存在是一堵墙，挡住了他北上的路。要继续前进，他必须绕过他们，穿过更高更危险的地形。

　　As he watched, a plan began to form, fragile and desperate. He couldn't fight them. He couldn't sneak past their camp in the daylight. But at night... The orcs' fire would ruin their night vision. The howling wind would mask sound. If he could find a route along the high cliffs above the valley, he might be able to bypass them under the cover of darkness.

　　他观察时，一个计划开始形成，脆弱而绝望。他无法与他们战斗。他无法在白天溜过他们的营地。但在夜晚……兽人的篝火会破坏他们的夜视能力。呼啸的风会掩盖声音。如果他能找到沿着山谷上方高耸悬崖的路线，他或许能在夜色掩护下绕过他们。

　　He spent the rest of the day scouting the rim of the valley, moving with painstaking slowness. He found a narrow, crumbling ledge that seemed to traverse the cliff face above the orc camp. It was dangerously exposed, but it was his only chance. He retreated to a hidden crevice to wait for nightfall, his nerves stretched taut.

　　他在山谷边缘侦察了下午余下的时间，以极其缓慢的速度移动。他找到一条狭窄、易碎的岩架，似乎能横穿兽人营地上方的悬崖。那里非常暴露，很危险，但这是他唯一的机会。他退到一个隐蔽的石缝等待夜幕降临，神经绷得紧紧的。

　　When full darkness fell, it was absolute. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds. The only light came from the orcs' fire far below, a tiny, flickering orange pinprick in the vast blackness. The wind howled, tearing at his clothes and threatening to pluck him from the cliff. It was now or never.

　　当夜幕完全降临，一片漆黑。月亮藏在厚厚的云层后面。唯一的光来自下方远处兽人的篝火，在无边的黑暗中像一个微小的、闪烁的橙色光点。风呼啸着，撕扯着他的衣服，仿佛要把他从悬崖上掀下去。机不可失。

　　He began the traverse. The ledge was even narrower than it had looked. Loose stones skittered away under his boots, falling into the void with no sound. He pressed himself against the cold, rough stone, inching forward, his fingers finding tiny cracks for purchase. He didn't look down. He focused only on the next handhold, the next foothold. The wind was a living thing, pushing and pulling at him. Below, he could hear the occasional guttural shout from the orcs, the crackle of their fire. They were so close.

　　他开始横穿。岩架比看起来更窄。松动的石头在他靴子下滚落，无声地坠入虚空。他紧贴着冰冷粗糙的岩石，一寸寸向前挪动，手指寻找着微小的裂缝作为支撑。他不往下看。只专注于下一个手抓点、下一个踏足点。风像活物一样，推拉着他。下方，他能听到兽人偶尔的粗哑喊叫，他们篝火的噼啪声。他们如此之近。

　　Halfway across, his foot slipped on a patch of loose gravel. He gasped, his heart leaping into his throat as he scrambled for a hold. His fingers dug into a sharp edge of rock, cutting into his skin, but he held on. For a terrifying moment, he dangled over the abyss, the wind whipping around him. Then he found a foothold and hauled himself back onto the ledge, trembling violently. He lay there for a minute, his face pressed against the stone, waiting for the roar of discovery from below. But it never came. The wind had swallowed the sound of his slip.

　　爬到一半，他的脚在一块松散的砾石上滑了一下。他倒吸一口气，心提到嗓子眼，慌乱地寻找支撑。手指抠进一块尖锐的岩石边缘，割破了皮肤，但他撑住了。在可怕的瞬间，他悬在深渊上方，风在周围呼啸。然后他找到一个踏足点，把自己拉回岩架，剧烈颤抖着。他在那里趴了一会儿，脸贴着石头，等待下方传来发现的吼叫。但始终没有。风吞没了他滑倒的声音。

　　He pushed on, every muscle screaming with strain. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the ledge widened and joined a steep slope leading away from the valley. He had done it. He collapsed on the slope, his body shaking with adrenaline and exhaustion. He had bypassed the orcs. He was still alive.

　　他继续前进，每块肌肉都因用力而酸痛。终于，在仿佛永恒之后，岩架变宽，连接上一条远离山谷的陡坡。他成功了。他瘫倒在坡上，身体因肾上腺素和精疲力竭而颤抖。他绕过了兽人。他还活着。

　　Looking back, the orc camp was just a faint glow in the distance. He had faced one of the greatest dangers of the mountains and survived. But as he turned to face the endless, dark peaks ahead, he knew the hardest part was still to come. He was deeper in the wilderness than ever before, and the path to Iris was longer and more uncertain than he had ever imagined.

　　回头望去，兽人营地只是远处微弱的光点。他面对了山脉中最大的危险之一并活了下来。但当他转身面对前方无尽的黑暗山峰时，他知道最艰难的部分还在后面。他比以往任何时候都更深地陷入荒野，通往艾莉丝的路比他想象的更漫长、更不确定。