Chapter 5: The Red Scrap and the River's Path （红布片与河流小径）

　　The cold, wet steel of the orc pauldron seemed to burn against Leon's fingertips. He snatched his hand back as if shocked. The idyllic peace of the stream was shattered, replaced by a crawling sensation on the back of his neck. The forest, which had moments before been a place of thirst and respite, now felt like a cage with invisible bars.

　　兽人肩甲那冰冷潮湿的钢铁仿佛灼烧着里昂的指尖。他像触电般猛地缩回手。溪边田园诗般的宁静被粉碎了，取而代之的是后颈上爬行的惊悚感。这片森林，片刻前还是解渴和歇息之地，此刻却感觉像一个有着无形栅栏的牢笼。

　　Iris moved with a new, urgent tension. She didn't speak, but her actions were sharp and precise. She waded into the shallow stream, her eyes fixed on the opposite bank, searching for any sign—a footprint, a broken branch. Leon followed, the icy water soaking through his boots and leaching the warmth from his body. It was a small price to pay for covering their tracks.

　　艾莉丝的行动带着一种新的、紧迫的张力。她没有说话，但她的动作尖锐而精准。她涉入浅溪，眼睛紧盯着对岸，搜寻任何迹象——一个脚印，一根断枝。里昂跟着，冰冷的水浸透了他的靴子，吸走他身体的温度。但为了掩盖他们的踪迹，这只是个小代价。

　　"They were here recently," she finally murmured, her voice barely audible over the gurgle of the water. She pointed to a patch of soft mud on the far bank where a large, three-toed footprint was clearly visible, pressed deep into the earth. It was unmistakably orcish. "A scout. Moving fast. Not hunting. Just... looking."

　　“他们最近来过这里，”她终于低声说道，声音几乎被溪水的潺潺声淹没。她指向对岸一块松软的泥地，那里清晰地印着一个深陷泥土的巨大三趾脚印。那无疑是兽人的。“一个斥候。行动很快。不是在狩猎。只是……在侦察。”

　　The word "scout" sent a fresh chill down Leon's spine. A scout meant there was something to scout for. A war party? A new settlement? His father's stories of the internment camps and the constant threat of orcish incursions came rushing back. "What are they looking for?" he asked, his voice trembling despite his effort to control it.

　　“斥候”这个词让里昂脊梁骨发凉。斥候意味着有需要侦察的目标。一支战帮？一个新的定居点？他父亲关于收容所和兽人不断入侵威胁的故事涌上心头。“他们在找什么？”他问道，声音尽管努力控制，还是带着颤抖。

　　Iris shook her head, her expression grim. "I do not know. But their presence so deep in these woods, so far from the contested lands... it is a bad sign." She looked back the way they had come, then downstream. "We cannot go back. The gnoll may still be there. And we cannot stay here." She made a decision. "We follow the water. Downstream. It will lead us away from the mountains, eventually. And the water will hide our scent."

　　艾莉丝摇摇头，表情严峻。“我不知道。但他们出现在森林这么深的地方，离争议之地这么远……这不是好兆头。”她回头看了看他们来的方向，然后看向下游。“我们不能回去。那只豺狼人可能还在。我们也不能留在这里。”她做了决定。“我们顺着水走。向下游。最终会带我们远离山脉。而且水会掩盖我们的气味。”

　　The journey downstream was a tense, silent affair. They stayed in the water as much as possible, their progress slow and cumbersome on the slippery, rocky bed. Every rustle in the bushes on the bank made them freeze, hearts pounding. Leon's imagination ran wild, picturing hulking, green-skinned brutes with massive axes leaping from behind every tree.

　　顺流而下的旅程紧张而沉默。他们尽可能待在水里，在湿滑的石质河床上行进缓慢而笨拙。岸上灌木丛的每一次沙沙声都让他们僵住，心脏狂跳。里昂的想象力疯狂驰骋，仿佛看到高大魁梧、绿皮肤、手持巨斧的 brute 从每一棵树后跳出来。

　　After what felt like an eternity, the stream widened, joining a larger, slower-moving river. The banks here were less steep, dotted with willow trees whose long branches trailed in the water. The sun was higher now, burning off the morning mist, but it offered little warmth to the chill in Leon's bones.

　　感觉过了很久之后，小溪变宽了，汇入一条更宽阔、流速更慢的河流。这里的河岸不那么陡峭，点缀着柳树，长长的枝条垂入水中。太阳现在升高了，驱散了晨雾，但丝毫无法驱散里昂骨子里的寒意。

　　It was Iris who saw it first. She stopped, holding up a clenched fist—a signal they had instinctively adopted for 'halt'. She pointed ahead, to a bend in the river. Tied to a stake driven into the bank was a small, ragged-looking raft. It was crudely made of lashed-together logs, but it floated. And beside it, on the ground, was a small, smoldering campfire, and a discarded waterskin made of some rough, hairy hide.

　　是艾莉丝先看到的。她停下来，举起一个紧握的拳头——这是他们本能采用的“停止”信号。她指向前面河流的一个弯道。一根打入河岸的木桩上，系着一只看起来破破烂烂的小木筏。是用捆在一起的木头粗制滥造的，但它能浮着。木筏旁边的地上，有一个冒着轻烟的小营火，和一个用某种粗糙带毛兽皮做的、被丢弃的水袋。

　　Leon's breath caught. The raft was clearly not orc work—it was too flimsy. But the hide waterskin... it could have belonged to anyone. Or anything.

　　Iris crept forward, silent as a shadow, Leon close behind. The campsite was deserted. She knelt by the fire, touching the ashes. "Cold. They left at first light." She picked up the waterskin and sniffed it. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Troll," she stated flatly.

　　里昂屏住了呼吸。这木筏显然不是兽人的手艺——太不结实了。但那兽皮水袋……可能属于任何人。或任何东西。

　　艾莉丝悄无声息地潜行向前，像影子一样安静，里昂紧跟在后面。营地空无一人。她跪在火堆旁，摸了摸灰烬。“冷了。他们天一亮就离开了。”她捡起水袋闻了闻，厌恶地皱了皱鼻子。“巨魔，”她平淡地说。

　　Leon felt a hysterical laugh bubble in his throat. Orcs and now trolls? It was like walking through one of his father's more terrifying bedtime stories. "Friendly?" he asked, not daring to hope.

　　Iris gave him a look that suggested the question was profoundly stupid. "Trolls are not friendly. But they are... opportunistic. They may have been fleeing the orc scout as well." She stood, examining the raft. "This is our chance. The river is the fastest path away from here. Faster than walking."

　　里昂感到一阵歇斯底里的笑涌上喉咙。兽人，现在又是巨魔？这简直像走在他父亲讲的某个更可怕的睡前故事里。“友好吗？”他问道，不敢抱希望。

　　艾莉丝看了他一眼，那眼神表明这个问题极其愚蠢。“巨魔不友好。但他们……是机会主义者。他们可能也在躲避那个兽人斥候。”她站起来，检查着木筏。“这是我们的机会。河流是离开这里最快的路。比走路快。”

　　The idea of floating down an unknown river on a troll's rickety raft was terrifying. But the idea of staying on the bank, waiting for either the orc scout or the trolls to return, was infinitely worse.

　　"Okay," Leon said, his voice a squeak. He cleared his throat. "Okay. Let's go."

　　乘着巨魔摇摇晃晃的破筏子漂向下游未知的河流，这个想法很可怕。但留在岸上，等着兽人斥候或巨魔回来，则更糟。

　　“好吧，”里昂说，声音有点尖。他清了清嗓子。“好吧。我们走。”

　　They quickly untied the raft and used a long pole they found nearby to push off from the bank. The current caught the clumsy vessel, spinning it slowly before guiding it into the center of the river. As they drifted away from the bank, leaving the troll campsite behind, Leon felt a small measure of tension ease from his shoulders. They were moving. They had a plan.

　　他们迅速解开木筏，用一根在附近找到的长竿撑离河岸。水流抓住了这笨拙的船只，让它慢慢打转，然后带入河心。当他们漂离河岸，将巨魔营地甩在身后时，里昂感到肩上的紧张感稍稍缓解了一些。他们在移动了。他们有了一个计划。

　　But as the river carried them south, the banks began to change. The trees thinned, and the air lost the dense, loamy scent of the deep forest. A new smell reached them—a faint, acrid tang of smoke and something else, something metallic and foul. On the wind, carried from the west, came a sound that was both familiar and horrifyingly out of place this deep in the wilderness: the distant, rhythmic clang of a hammer on an anvil. It was the sound of industry. But in Azeroth, industry rarely meant anything good.

　　但当河流载着他们向南时，河岸开始变化。树木变得稀疏，空气失去了森林深处那种浓郁的肥沃土壤的气息。一种新的气味传到他们这里——一丝淡淡的、刺鼻的烟味，还有别的，一种金属的、恶臭的气味。风从西边吹来，带来一个既熟悉又在这荒野深处显得可怕地不合时宜的声音：远处有节奏的锤打铁砧的叮当声。那是工业的声音。但在艾泽拉斯，工业很少意味着什么好事。