离恨天

今天出了一件很郁闷的事，始末细节我就不再重新写一次了，有兴趣的朋友不妨看看这个帖子 http://www.odyguild.net/bbs/read.php?tid=2032&fpage=1

至此，严正声明，此草窝所有图文，尤其是文，不管是翻译还是同人评论之类，如无授权谢绝转载——我觉得这应该是最起码的网络礼节不是么。就算不是什么成气候的东西到底也是在下心血所系，敝帚自珍之情尚在，望来到此地的个别朋友在轻率行动之前三思自重。或者，若阁下真有剽窃之心便莫要笨拙得被人抓个正着。

我不会在每篇文章中注明，此处说明一次便全都有效。

以上。

虽然某一直都在疯，但该作出决定的时候终于还是到了。因为很多方面的原因，某决心从2月19号开学之后就开始备研等各项事务，闭关时间近乎一年，所以翻译和汉化的天坑不得不暂停，擦汗，望对魔晶翻译有所期待的各位亲谅解海涵>< （正坐伏地ING）

在这一年间估计离恨天就算偶有更新也是超超超龟速，浮世轩那边估计也是差不多的情形。这段时间内估计MOD汉化TROW那边可能会有人接下去做；而魔晶翻译，之前坦克兄说和他合作的两个人已经蒸发，而他貌似也要忙跳槽的事，恩，其实，小小声说，这个翻译某私心里是很希望自己做的，大泪~~再说吧，等一切告一段落之后如果还是没有人完成的话某应该会继续下去的~

以上。望朋友们原谅某的任性。

水潭链接： 浮世轩  http://spaces.msn.com/members/wuyiwujade/

杂物邮箱登陆http://cn.mail.yahoo.com/
ID：wuyiwus_work
密码：123456

其实这次比之上次的修改版而言，只是眸子稍稍多加点黑而已，可是感觉比上次更有神，果然画龙点睛是很重要的呢（飞）~><

第二十五章

苦尽甘来

赫菲斯托斯是一条睿智的龙，它足够聪明以精通很多强大的法术、掌握一打其他种族的语言以及击败许许多多胆敢与之对抗的敌人。它已经活了很多世纪并因之累积起属于龙族的智慧，这卓绝的智慧使其意识到不该注目于碎魔晶放射不绝能量的光辉。

但它无法从这耀眼的光芒、这它所见过最最绝对光耀及纯粹的力量中移开视线。

当一个骷髅的影子摇晃着走出那光彩夺目的造物，接着是第二个，第三个，接连不断直到七个毁灭已久巫妖的鬼魂围绕着被摧毁的魔晶蹒跚起舞正如在其黑暗的创造过程中它们所做过的那样，这巨龙不由大吃一惊。

然后，它们一个接一个地消散于虚空。

仿佛一种移情作用，当龙狐疑地注视着一个弯腰驼背、完全被悲哀所压倒的人类影象从那造物里慢慢浮现出时，它清晰感觉到了一种最真挚的情感。逝亡已久酋长那被偷走的灵魂坐在地板上，凝视着被遗弃的石头，一种氛围散溢出那影象，如此纯粹的毁灭氛围，即使是冷血赫菲斯托斯那冷酷的心中也感应到一阵巨大的悲恸。

这最后的幽灵也变淡变薄终至虚空，终于，碎魔晶的光芒黯淡了下来。

直到这时赫菲斯托斯才意识到自己最不可挽回的错误。直到这时这远古红龙才发现它已经完全失明了，被源源释放的纯粹能量彻底毁掉了双眼。

巨龙咆哮起来——咆哮得多么惊天动地！饱含恼火与愤怒，那是永远狂暴的赫菲斯托斯所曾发出最强的悲鸣。这咆哮声也流露出某种恐惧与悔恨，某种认知：这巨龙不再有胆量离开巢穴去追击那些把这邪恶造物带到它面前的入侵者，无法离开自己的地盘而去到那除了需要其他敏锐知觉同时也需要双眼以真正成长和生存的开阔世界。

嗅觉告诉赫菲斯托斯，它最终还是消灭了片刻之前站在走廊里的卓尔和灵吸怪。意识到这一认知所带来的满足很可能是在这天里唯一令自己满意的事，巨龙撤回了主睡眠大厅背后用魔法隐藏起来的巨大秘密房间，这个房间只有一个可能的入口，里面储藏着大堆大堆属于它的黄金、珠玉、宝石和其他小装饰品。

在那里，这条愤怒而挫败的巨龙在自己的宝藏堆间再次蜷缩起来，渴求着一场安宁的长眠，希望流逝的岁月会治愈自己被灼伤的双眼。它会梦见——是的它当然会——自己大肆屠杀那些入侵者；如果睡眠无法带来期望中的治疗效果，它也会运用卓越的智慧来好好解决失明带来的种种问题。

                         * * * * *

来者的身形冲出地道时凯德立几乎高兴得跳起来，但当他认出那个正在狂奔的人是阿提密斯·恩崔立并注意到对方肩上横扛着的女人一动不动满身是血，牧师的心立刻沉了下去。

“你对她干了些什么？！”伊凡咆哮着迎上前去，却发现自己移动得非常缓慢简直像是在梦游。他望向派克，发现自己的兄弟也正以一种不自然的呆滞动作移动着。

“放轻松些，”贾拉索对他们说，“丹妮卡身上的伤不是恩崔立造成的。”

“你怎么知道？”伊凡强硬地反问。

“他原本可以把她扔在黑暗里任其死掉。”卓尔的理由很充分，这简单的逻辑的确使这对性情急噪的兄弟稍微冷静了一些。

但凯德立还是跑着迎了上去。因为当贾拉索施放出法术的时候他已经不在作用范围内，他的速度一点也没有减慢。牧师奔向恩崔立，而后者一见到他接近就停下脚步放低一边肩膀，把丹妮卡挪到一个站立——或者至少是倚靠着——的位置。

“是卓尔长剑造成的。”当凯德立靠得足够近以看清楚伤口并且几乎要以为那是他的杰作时，杀手说道。

牧师立刻开始救治，吟唱起德耐的圣歌，用尽了他所具有的一切治疗能量。当发现自己爱人的伤势并不是那么危急因而肯定能很快好转，他确实大大松了一口气。

忙完这一切，Bouldershoulders和贾拉索也赶了过来。凯德立抬头望向矮人们，微笑着点了点头，然后一脸困惑地转向杀手。

“她在地道里救了我一命，”恩崔立阴沉地说，“我不喜欢欠任何人人情。”说完，他头也不回地走开了。

那天晚些时候，当所有人都坚信显然赫菲斯托斯不会离开自己的巢穴进行追击之后，凯德立及同伴们——其中也包括丹妮卡——追上了杀手和卓尔。

“我们要借助来时用过的法术回到高飞之灵，” 牧师对他们说，“如果我不提供你们回程的法术传送的话可能至少也算有些无礼吧。”

贾拉索好奇地注视着他。

“这不是陷阱。”凯德立向这精明的卓尔断然保证，“我不想找你们的麻烦，因为自从来到我的领地之后你们的所作所为几乎可以说是值得尊敬的。但我也要警告你们，我不会容忍——”

“我们为什么要希望和你们一起回去？”阿提密斯·恩崔立打断了他，“你那虚情假意的洞窟里有什么能给我们带来利益？”

牧师几乎是立刻开始作出各种反击。他想对着这个人大叫，强迫其屈服，想改变这个人的信仰，甚至想将其毁灭——任何他所能做到用以反击这突如其来的抗拒性高墙的事。最终，他选择了沉默，因为的确，在高飞之灵又有什么能给这两个人带来好处呢？

那样的存在在那里有很多，他假想着，如果他们渴望救赎其灵魂修正其道路的话。恩崔立对丹妮卡所采取的行动的确暗示了在未来千真万确有着这样的一种可能。突发奇想下，牧师又开始了德耐的圣歌吟唱同时施展出一个显示出他的观察对象精神总貌的小法术。

在快速看了恩崔立和贾拉索一眼之后，他就确信了如果这两位去往相反方向，那么高飞之灵、卡顿、席尔明斯特森林乃至落雪山脉附近所有其他地域才能有更好的前景。

“那么再会了。”他倾了倾帽沿说，“至少在那可悲的存在中你找准时机做了一件高尚的事，阿提密斯·恩崔立。”然后他走回伊凡和派克身边和他们并肩而行。

虽然每走一步都注视着杀手，但丹妮卡仍表现得十分从容不迫。“对于你在我被伤痛压倒时所做的一切，我并不是不心存感激。”她承认，“但我也不会为结束那在赫菲斯托斯巢穴底下地道里我们所开始的事而感到羞愧。”

恩崔立几乎就要质问道“结束什么？”，但在第一个字脱口而出前他改变了主意。杀手只是耸了耸肩，微笑着，任由女人走过去。

“恩崔立的一个新对手？”当那四个人消失之后贾拉索说，“也许是作为崔斯特的替代者？”

“不可能。”人类回答道。

“那就是说她不配？”

杀手只是耸耸肩，对于费心去确定她是或不是这一念头毫不在意。

俑兵头子的大笑把他从沉思中拉回了现实。

“事态总是会变化和发展的。”卓尔评论说。

“警告你，我不会再容忍你的任何胡乱推测。”人类回答。

贾拉索笑得越发厉害了。“这么说你打算和我待在一起。”

恩崔立严酷地凝视前者直到对方慢慢止住笑意，他在思考着这个自己无法马上回答出口的问题。

“那么，很好。”卓尔悠闲自如地说，看起来他似乎把这沉默当作默许了，“但我也警告你，如果你反对我，我将不得不杀掉你。”

“那会比死还难。”人类保证说。

贾拉索再次笑起来。“我还年轻的时候，”他开口道，“我的一个朋友，一个其根本挫败在于他相信我是更加出色的战士的武技长——虽然事实上，我打败他的那一次好运道比高超艺起了更重要作用——告诉我，他终于找到了一个终将成长至至少能与我匹敌甚至可能超越我的孩子，一个真正比以往任何人都展现出更耀眼战士天赋的人。”

“那个武技长的名字叫做札克纳梵——你也许听说过这个人。”卓尔继续说。

杀手摇了摇头。

“他所提到的那个年轻战士除了崔斯特·杜垩登以外不可能是任何其他人。”贾拉索解释着，露齿一笑。

恩崔立尽力不显露出任何情感波动，但他内心被这一惊人消息所激起的情绪还是轻微地背叛了自己的心，而当然，即使只是这样的微妙之处也足以让贾拉索捕捉到了。“札克纳梵的预言成真了？”人类问。

“如果它是真的，会不会给阿提密斯·恩崔立带来什么启示？”俑兵头子狡猾地问，“因为对崔斯特和贾拉索之间相对力量的这一发现有没有对恩崔立提出任何中肯的意见？阿提密斯·恩崔立凭什么自信能与崔斯特·杜垩登力量对等？”然后他提出了一个尖锐的问题：“恩崔立真的自信打败了崔斯特吗？”

杀手长久而目光犀利地凝视卓尔，然而在凝视的同时，他的表情无可抑止地柔和起来。“那又怎样？”他回答，而这恰恰正是卓尔最想从自己的新同伴——而且以他的思维方式而言，这人类也将是他的长久搭档——那里得到的答案。

“我们在这个地方还有事情没了结。”这时贾拉索宣布，很唐突地换了个话题，“附近还逗留着一小伙恐惧而且深感愤怒的家伙。他们的首领不肯就此罢休，无法忍受他们所遭遇的一切而乖乖逃走。”

恩崔立什么也没问，只是跟着卓尔沿山石裸露的岩层向前走。当看见后者先前所提及的那一小伙人，杀手后退了几步：以一个危险的心灵异能者为首的四个黑暗精灵。恩崔立立刻把双手扶上自己那致命匕首和长剑的柄。一小段距离之外，贾拉索和金穆瑞用卓尔语交谈起来，但人类能听懂他们的绝大部分对话。

“我们要开战吗？”当佣兵头子靠得更近时，金穆瑞·欧布罗扎问道。

“莱基死了，碎魔晶也已经被摧毁，”贾拉索回答，“我们有什么理由那么干？”

杀手留意到心灵异能者对这两项宣言都毫无退缩之意。

“哈，但我猜你已经尝到力量的甜头了，对吧？”佣兵头子吃吃笑着问，“现在你稳坐达耶特独立佣兵团第一把交椅，这看起来就像——而你也猜想，一切都是你自己办到的。你无意放弃已经取得的地位吧？”

金穆瑞开始摇头——在恩崔立看来很显然他正试图在这种情况下和贾拉索维持一种平和的关系——但总是不按常理出牌的贾拉索忽然打断了对方的回答。“那么很好！”佣兵头子戏剧性地说，“我不想再打一场，金穆瑞，我承认而且也明白如果想作为领导者回归的话自己最近的所作所为很可能已经在达耶特独立佣兵团团队里树了不少敌人。”

“你是在投降吗？”心灵异能者怀疑地问，同时，他和站在他身后的步兵们似乎都加倍警惕起来。

“当然不是。”贾拉索报以又一声低笑，“警告你，如果你继续与我为敌，或者甚至哪怕只是跟踪我、追踪我的下落，我真的会挑战这个你新近得到的地位。”

杀手专注听着，摇了摇头，他确信自己一定是把这番话中的至少某些部分理解得大错特错了。

金穆瑞想开口作答却结结巴巴说不清楚，最后只好认命地大大叹了口气。

“用心领导佣兵团，”佣兵头子警告说，“总有一天我会再加入而且向你要求分享领导权。我想找到一个由和我现在能很放心交托背后的这个人一样强大的唯利是图者组建成的团队。”他看向其余三人。“要向他致以敬意。”

“我们决不会再在卡林港相遇，”心灵异能者向他保证，“也不会是在这该死地表的任何其它地方。我要回家，贾拉索，回到那真正属于我们领土的洞窟深处。”

后者和那三个步兵一起点点头。

“那你呢？”金穆瑞问。

唯利是图的前领导者只是再次耸肩微笑起来。“我不可能知道自己最想去什么地方因为我还没有看到所有的景致。”

又一次，金穆瑞只能好奇地看着他的前上司。最后，他只点了点头，随着一声响指和一个念动，心灵异能者打开一个空间入口把自己和三个部下传送走。

“为什么？”恩崔立一边走近自己意外得来的同伴一边问。

“什么为什么？”卓尔重复道。

“你本来能和他们一起回去，”杀手开门见山地说，“虽然我决不会和你一起。你选择了不回家，不恢复对团队的控制。为什么你会放弃这一切而留在这里，和我在一起？”

贾拉索仔细考虑了好一会儿。然后，他用恩崔立本人曾经说过的话笑着回答，“也许相对人类而言我还是更痛恨卓尔。”

在那一刻，阿提密斯·恩崔立脚软得几乎一阵微风就能吹倒。他甚至不想知道这卓尔是怎么得知这句话的。

[本章完]

首先要说，可怜的龙龙^^bbb 无视某G阵营四人组中……
老贾同学，你你你那句向他致敬真是深得我心呀啊啊^^ 不过，老萨，难道是我思想邪恶？我怎么觉得你一再地暗示……= =/// 我不承认我绝对不承认><

原文：

Chapter 25
                   THE LIGHT AT THE END
                      OF THE TUNNEL

    Hephaestus was an intelligent dragon, smart enough to
master many powerful spells, to speak the tongues of a dozen
races, to defeat all of the many, many foes who had come
against it. The dragon had lived for centuries, gaining
wisdom as dragons do, and in that depth of wisdom,
Hephaestus recognized that it should not be staring at the
brilliance of the Crystal Shard's released energy.
    But the dragon could not turn away from the brilliance,
from the sheerest and brightest, the purest power it had
ever seen.
    The wyrm marveled as a skeletal shadow rolled out of the
brilliantly glowing object, then another, and a third, and
so on, until the specters of seven long-consumed liches
danced about the destroyed Crystal Shard, as they had danced
around the object during its dark creation.
    Then, one by one, they dissipated into nothingness.
    The dragon stared incredulously, feeling the honest
emotions as clearly as if it were empathically bound to the
next form that flowed out of the artifact, the shadow of a
man, hunched and broken with sadness. The stolen soul of the
long-dead sheik sat on the floor, staring at the stone
forlornly, an aura so devastated flowing out from the shadow
that Hephaestus the Merciless felt a twinge in its cold
heart.
    That last specter, too, thinned to nothingness, and,
finally, the light of the Crystal Shard dimmed.
    Only then did Hephaestus recognize the depth of its
mistake. Only then did the ancient red dragon realize that
it was now totally blind, its eyes utterly destroyed by the
pureness of the power released.
    The dragon roared-how it roared! The greatest scream of
anger, of rage, that ever-angry Hephaestus had ever issued.
In that roar, too, was a measure of fear, of regret, of the
realization that the wyrm could not dare go forth from its
lair to pursue the intruders who had brought this cursed
item before it, could not go out from the confines to the
open world where it would need its eyes as well as those
other keen senses to truly thrive, indeed to survive.
    Hephaestus's olfactory senses told the wyrm that it had
at least destroyed the drow and the illithid that had been
standing in the corridor a few moments before. Taking that
satisfaction in the realization that it was likely the only
satisfaction Hephaestus could hope to find this day, the
wyrm retreated to the large chamber secretly and magically
concealed behind its main sleeping hall, the chamber where
there was only one possible entrance, and the one where the
dragon kept its piled hoard of gold, gems, jewels, and
trinkets.
    There the outraged but defeated wyrm curled up again,
desiring sleep, peaceful slumber among its hoarded riches,
hoping that the passing years would cure its burned eyes. It
would dream, yes it would, of consuming those intruders, and
it would set its great intelligent mind to work at solving
the problem of blindness if the slumber did not bring the
desired cure.

                         * * * * *

    Cadderly nearly leaped for joy when the form came
rushing out of the tunnels, but when he recognized the
running man for who he was, Artemis Entreri, and noted that
the woman slung across his shoulders was hardly moving and
was covered in blood, his heart sank fast.
    "What'd ye do to her?" Ivan roared, starting forward,
but he found that he was moving slowly, as if in a dream. He
looked to Pikel and found that his brother, too, was moving
with unnatural sluggishness.
    "Be at ease," Jarlaxle said to them. "Danica's wounds
are not of Entreri's doing."
    "How can ye know?" Ivan demanded.
    "He would have left her dead in the darkness," the drow
reasoned, and the simple logic of it did indeed calm the
volatile brothers a bit.
    Cadderly, though, ran on. As he was beyond the
parameters of Jarlaxle's spell when it was cast, he was not
slowed in the least. He rushed up to Entreri, who, upon
seeing his approach, had stopped and turned one shoulder
down, moving Danica to a standing, or at least leaning,
position.
    "Drow blade," the assassin said as soon as Cadderly got
close enough to see the wound-and the feeble attempt at
tying it off the assassin had made.
    The priest went to work at once, falling into the song
of Deneir, bringing forth all the healing energies he could
find. Indeed, he discovered to his absolute relief that his
love's wounds were not so critical, that she would certainly
mend and quickly enough.
    By the time he finished, the Bouldershoulders and
Jarlaxle had arrived. Cadderly looked up at the dwarves and
smiled and nodded, and turned a puzzled expression on the
assassin.
    "Her actions saved me in the tunnels," Entreri said
sourly. "I do not enjoy being in anyone's debt." That said,
he walked away, not once looking back.
    Cadderly and his companions, including Danica, caught up
to Entreri and Jarlaxle later on that day, after it became
apparent, to everyone's relief, that Hephaestus would not be
coming out of its lair in pursuit.
    "We are returning to the Spirit Soaring with the same
spell that brought us here," the priest announced. "It would
be impolite, at least, if I did not offer you magical
transport for the journey back."
    Jarlaxle looked at him curiously.
    "No tricks," Cadderly assured the cagey drow. "I hold no
trials over either of you, for your actions have been no
less than honorable since you came to my domain. I do warn
you both, however, that I will tolerate no-"
    "Why would we wish to return with you?" Artemis Entreri
cut him short. "What in your hole of falsehood is for our
gain?"
    Cadderly started to respond-in many directions all at
once. He wanted to yell at the man, to coerce the man, to
convert the man, to destroy the man-anything he could do
against that sudden wall of negativism. In the end, he said
not a word, for indeed, what at the Spirit Soaring would be
for the benefit of these two?
    Much, he supposed, if they desired to mend their souls
and their ways. Entreri's actions with Danica did hint that
there might indeed be a possibility of that in the future.
On a whim, the priest entered Deneir's song and brought
forth a minor spell, one that revealed the general weal of
those he surveyed.
    A quick look at Entreri and Jarlaxle was all he needed
to confirm that the Spirit Soaring, Carradoon, Shilmista
Forest, and all the region about that section of the
Snowflake Mountains would be better off if these two went in
the opposite direction.
    "Farewell, then," he said with a tip of his hat. "At
least you found the opportunity to do one noble act in your
wretched existence, Artemis Entreri." He walked by the pair,
Ivan and Pikel in tow.
    Danica took her time, though, eyeing Entreri with every
step. "I am not ungrateful for what you did when my wound
overcame me," she admitted, "but neither would I shy from
finishing that which we started in the tunnels below
Hephaestus's lair."
    Entreri started to say, "To what end?" but changed his
mind before the first word had escaped his lips. He merely
shrugged, smiled, and let the woman pass.
    "A new rival for Entreri?" Jarlaxle remarked when the
four had gone. "A replacement for Drizzt, perhaps?"
    "Hardly," Entreri replied.
    "She is not worthy, then?"
    The assassin only shrugged, not caring enough to try to
determine whether she was or not.
    Jarlaxle's laugh brought him from his contemplation.
    "Growth," the drow remarked.
    "I warn you that I'll tolerate little of your
judgments," Entreri replied.
    Jarlaxle laughed all the harder. "Then you plan to
remain with me."
    Entreri looked at him hard, stealing the mirth,
considering a question that he could not immediately answer.
    "Very well, then," Jarlaxle said lightheartedly, as if
he took the silence as confirmation. "But I warn you, if you
cross me, I will have to kill you."
    "That will be difficult to do from beyond the grave,"
Entreri promised.
    Jarlaxle laughed once more. "When I was young," he
began, "a friend of mine, a weapon master whose ultimate
frustration was that he believed I was the better fighter-
though in truth, the one time I bested him was more good
fortune than superior skill-remarked to me that at last he
had found one who would grow to be at least my equal, and
perhaps my superior, a child, really, who showed more
promise as a warrior than any before.
    "That weapon master's name was Zaknafein-you may have
heard of him," Jarlaxle went on.
    Entreri shook his head.
    "The young warrior he spoke of was none other than
Drizzt Do'Urden," Jarlaxle explained with a grin.
    Entreri tried hard to show no emotion, but his inner
feelings at the surprise betrayed him a tiny bit, and
certainly enough for Jarlaxle to note it. "And did the
prophecy of Zaknafein come true?" Entreri asked.
    "If it did, does that hold any revelation for Artemis
Entreri?" Jarlaxle asked slyly. "For would discovering the
relative strength of Drizzt and Jarlaxle tell Entreri
anything pertinent? How does Artemis Entreri believe he
measures up against Drizzt Do'Urden?" Then the critical
question: "Does Entreri believe he truly defeated Drizzt?"
    Entreri looked at Jarlaxle long and hard, but as he
stared, his expression inevitably softened. "Does it
matter?" he answered, and that indeed was the answer that
Jarlaxle most wanted to hear from his new, and, to his way
of thinking, long-term companion.
    "We are not yet done here," Jarlaxle announced then,
changing the subject abruptly. "There is one group lingering
about, fearful and angry. Their leader has decided that he
cannot leave yet, not with things as they stand."
    Entreri didn't ask, but just followed Jarlaxle as the
dark elf made his way around the outcroppings of mounain
stone. The assassin fell back a few steps when he saw the
group Jarlaxle had spoken of: four dark elves led by a
dangerous psionicist. Entreri put his hands immediately to
the hilt of his deadly dagger and sword. A short distance
away, Jarlaxle and Kimmuriel spoke in the drow tongue, but
Entreri could make out most of their words.
    "Do we battle now?" Kimmuriel Oblodra asked when
Jarlaxle neared.
    "Rai-guy is dead, the Crystal Shard destroyed," Jarlaxle
replied. "What would be the purpose?"
    Entreri noted that Kimmuriel did not wince at either
proclamation.
    "Ah, but I guess that you have tasted the sweetness of
power, yes?" Jarlaxle asked with a chuckle. "You are seated
at the head of Bregan D'aerthe now, it would seem, and you
suppose all by yourself. You have little desire to
relinquish your garnered position?"
    Kimmuriel started to shake his head-it was obvious to
Entreri that he was about to try to make peace here with
Jarlaxle-but the surprising Jarlaxle cut short Kim-muriel's
response. "Very well then!" Jarlaxle said dramatically. "I
have little desire for yet another fight, Kimmuriel, and I
accept and understand that my actions of late have likely
earned me too many enemies within the ranks of Bregan
D'aerthe for my return as leader."
    "You are surrendering?" Kimmuriel asked doubtfully, and
he seemed even more on his guard then, as did the foot-
soldiers standing behind him.
    "Hardly," Jarlaxle replied with another chuckle. "And I
warn you, if you continue to do battle with me, or even to
pursue me and track my whereabouts, I will indeed challenge
you for the position you have rightly earned."
    Entreri listened intently, shaking his head, certain
that he must be getting some of the words, at least, very
wrong.
    Kimmuriel started to respond, but stuttered over a few
words, and just gave up with a great sigh.
    "Do well with Bregan D'aerthe," Jarlaxle warned. "I will
rejoin you one day and will demand of you that we share the
leadership. I expect to find a band of mercenaries as strong
as the one I now willingly leave behind." He looked to the
other three. "Serve him with honor."
    "Any reunion between us will not be in Calimport,"
Kimmuriel assured him, "nor anywhere else on the cursed
surface. I am bound for home, Jarlaxle, back to the caverns
that are our true domain."
    Jarlaxle nodded, as did the three foot-soldiers.
    "And you?" Kimmuriel asked.
    The former mercenary leader only shrugged and smiled
again. "I cannot know where I most wish to be because I have
not seen all that there is."
    Again, Kimmuriel could only stare at his former leader
curiously. In the end, he merely nodded and, with a snap of
his fingers and a thought, opened a dimensional portal
through which he and his three minions passed.
    "Why?" Entreri asked, moving up beside his unexpected
companion.
    "Why?" Jarlaxle echoed.
    "You could have returned with them," the assassin
clarified, "though I'd have never gone with you. You chose
not to go, not to resume control of your band. Why would you
give that up to remain out here, to remain beside me?"
    Jarlaxle thought it over for a few moments. Then, using
words that Entreri himself had used before, he said with a
laugh, "Perhaps I hate drow more than I hate humans."
    In that instant, Artemis Entreri could have been blown
over by a gentle breeze. He didn't even want to know how
Jarlaxle had known to say that.

本意是追求一种童话般的意境，然室友云：明明这么阴森…… TT

不管不管了，反正就一个多小时涂抹出来的东西，就这样吧，泪扔~

（25）

“……两位大人有劳在此稍候，我家公子即刻便至，且请稍安勿躁。”
白衣少年微一点头间，老者早躬身悄然退出室外又小心带上了房门。不多时小僮献茶毕，至此，来客方得以细细打量室间。显见得此为家主书房，除去门右首靠墙两张花梨藤心扶手椅及同色梅花式茶几，房内家什不过一案一椅一屏并一书格，然古朴精致不失大气端庄，主人用心良深，委实可叹。一案乃黄花梨填漆海水江崖纹书案，案头笔墨纸砚色色俱全，几本书页已淡淡灰暗古旧书籍叠放于左，最上一本题曰《将苑》。案后一张花梨四出头官帽椅，紫檀边座百宝嵌梅花图插屏设于案前。最为可观者，房内向西整面房壁大半掩于一高大黑漆嵌螺钿描金如意云头纹书格之后，落日余晖闲然穿东壁格窗映照其，藏卷浩瀚，犹有墨香。
抬眼间案后壁上一幅裱字映入眼帘，少年由衷默赞好字，不由放下茶盏缓步上前，细看之下墨迹淋漓龙蛇飞动，却是一首《鹧鸪天》：

“青杏时节聊点矰①，
洛林峰头笑拾磴②。
贪景误上千千丈，
莺歌绝断雁残声。

烟峦重，云崖冷，
瀚海森森苍枝横。
却喜小藤轻狂处，
敢把点翠向天征。”

“好一个‘却喜小藤轻狂处，敢把点翠向天征’！”身侧男子轻笑道，“葛蔓枯藤本天生不材人尽可践之物，然身无堂堂百丈之躯而不甘雌伏，攀缘外力而上奋然目指向天，其情可叹，其狂可畏！以此喻志，胸中自有沟壑，只怕赋者也绝非甘愿一生困窘匍匐的碌碌之辈呢。”说罢细看题款处，眉梢一挑，又是一笑。
款书“莱兹”，继之“年四百五十八惊蛰登游洛林”，字字分明。
少年尚不及答言，忽闻有人推门而入朗声长笑：“参谋大人言重了。” 风尘仆仆戎装不改，正是月余前所识刚嘎拉御守莱兹。
只见来者笑望二人当胸抱拳。“此诗乃下官十五年前拙作，少年人原本玩笑心性，到底也辞浅意狂了些，然字却极自爱，终究存了下来，是以为念，倒惹得两位大人见笑了。”语罢肃容，以手点肩向少年微微躬身作礼，“下官来迟，怠慢之处还请苍龙大人恕罪。”
“御守大人不必多礼。”虽对方官阶在己之下，然终究为地方驻官不受王军管辖，故而普拉提纳亦略微躬身还礼，“日前决堤之策致使城中闲人淹留甚众，带累大人辛劳，原也难免，却谈何恕罪。”
“此下官分内之事，何须挂齿。然下官斗胆，不知尊驾今日微服突访寒舍，可是有何要事。”
杰度欣欣然一摆手，不着痕迹接过话头。“哪里哪里。不过因洪水当前，第六军不得已叨扰贵地，诸多劳顿，Platina sama坚持要来向御守大人您致歉呢。”言语间紫晶深处锐利光亮瞬息微露，“况在下以为，当日大人当机立断，不惜水漫罗亚阻得叛军锋芒，好一手李代桃僵！胆识担待过人之处着实可敬可佩，既至城中，不相往来才是真的怠慢呢。”
闻言莱兹漫不经心垂头，双眼于如血短发之后略掩一掩，再抬眸时目光淡定：“什么胆识担待，不过尽我所有罢了。人言旭王此次举兵原是醉翁之意不在酒，若教此人得了天下，只怕奈落并整个阿庞格朗佛都不免山雨欲来。下官冒失独断原当军法论处，所幸功过相当，得安王大人宽大为怀不予追究。参谋大人此言真真折杀下官了。”
杰度也并不深究，浅淡一笑径自将话题牵扯开去，又轻轻引得普拉提纳言谈。略坐片时，两相话别不表。
回营一路只闻马蹄声声，心腹侍卫两三人远远逶迤于后。默对良久，终是某人先开了口：“今日造访，Platina sama可有所感？”
少年若有所思轻带马缰，胯下御赐塔哈奇贡马名追风的，原本良驹灵性异常，立时心领神会缓缓停步。杰度也勒住坐骑踏雪。静默抬眼。时值八月中，皓月当空凝辉飞彩，看在两人眼底却尽是苍凉清冷。
追风纹丝不动静立着，任夜风扬起银丝般马尾乃至额鬃。
沉吟一番，普拉提纳声音低低道：“原本我也只有些讶然，以刚嘎拉而言，既无王军也无郡属军队留驻，城中不过地方驻军三四千，然当日为第一军一兵部围城多日仍得坚守以待援兵，可知御守当真不俗。近日炸堤更是铤而走险几近妄为，我军若非得飞鸽传书后即刻日夜兼程避至官道以北，早恐一并受困洪流中，而他通报之责亦尽，便是王都追究起来也可避重就轻推托一二，况以他手段，会否终身偏安一隅也未可知。背后原委若非他所言，恐怕此人……”
“静不露机，云雷屯也。”另一人颌首，神色极之严正端凝，“时旧制岌岌乱世争雄之际，比之穷奇一干饭袋酒囊山鸡舞镜之鼠辈，罗亚一省，恐当以此人为要。”

纤长指间懒懒把玩着四节细小竹管。
案前几步之外，第一军飞奴使长正静默以右膝跪地，右拳点地左手屈于左腿垂首躬身，心内兀自忐忑不已。飞奴使乃奈落王军必设机构之一，其下着专人驯养军鸽以为传递军情之用，其数十人中惟资历最深技艺最高者方可号为长。今日此人参见王将大人，便正是因着米亚会战之前军中所遣前往劝服其余四省缔结联盟的使节有了传书回音。时洪水尚未退尽，大军受困诺奇，军情紧急，然王将大人却似不甚在意，意态惫懒，直教旁人如堕九里云雾里。
原来深知各侯为人，塞雷斯早已是心明如镜，又片时，终剥去蜡封取密信略尽人事次第翻看一遍，也就挥挥手遣帐中众人各自散了。此次人人皆知时局堪忧，便是不羁如罗德也难得乖巧，只静静细看那消瘦侧影一眼便安守本分默然退出，一座凝重大帐即刻空荡下来。
不出所料。除赴南使节结盟牒书在手可传捷报，余者莫不谨慎言辞惶然缄口。原来此次出使游说，各省反响各个不同，然除波卡那鱼米棉粮依赖伽米利太过而免遭反目外，终有五省之三效忠王室正统，诸侯于旭王所为更是热讽冷嘲不一而足。其中尤以噶帕执政侯建王卡兹性烈威严，措辞更激：“苍龙虽极年少，然本王老朽，亦尝闻其英武决断知识义理处，可以托六尺之孤，可以寄百里之命，临大节而不可夺也。反观贼子以亲王并执政侯之尊，犯上作乱，令人齿冷。古语有云，‘义战必胜’，噶帕岂可逆天而行。”语毕径自着人将其撵出塔哈奇省会并行省首府札兰，竟是严词拒绝当场。只可怜那小小说客，既不敢以建王原话作答，又无法一笔带过只字不提，传书所禀不免支支吾吾困苦难言。
以手拄额疲然闭目，凝神片刻。此番结盟虽成绩寥落，然他原非执意于此，决裂在即非友即敌，此举不过迫得诸侯表明阵营罢了，又因其不免向众多野望勃勃者公告大乱已至，料得浑水摸鱼乱中渔利之人不日定当群起，其时风云动荡，恐更胜人力可及……
不知何时起，夜风中不知何处竟隐隐有乐音飘忽而来。初时旭王几乎不曾以为自己心思如麻以致生幻，然则侧耳听来，声声笳吟如泣如诉，吹的竟是撒纳坊间自己与那人少年时耳熟能详的调调！惊觉此，这强横逆天男子不由倔强握拳大睁双目，眸光微动，良久，终究自持向空冷冷一笑：“粉饰太平，略微探草惊蛇即两分天下，你的好臣子，你的好国民！其间有几人全心助我？又有几人是出于真意站在你一边？……王兄，这些荒唐物事竟真值得你沥血至此？”
虚空不语。万籁俱寂中惟有游丝般一缕笳声细细呜咽了整夜，孤绝凄清，催人断魂。

[注1：“矰”，古代射鸟用的栓着丝绳的箭。
注2：“磴”，山路上的石台阶。]

恋次对一护的托付，关于露琪亚的回忆。

第一次看动画到这个镜头就很有感觉。可惜做得不是很好，不过某很喜欢这个氛围的说^^bbb

以下为添加了热情LOGO的版本，笑~

And Then There Were None

或许有些存在真的可以穿越时光，然而，不管那沉淀下来的曾经怎样熟识，终究不复当初模样。
戏已散场。

曾每天乘车经过最后对望的街角。说是对望倒也不确切，你目光闪躲。那或许并不是真正的话别吧。而更早的……是昏暗的影院还是灰色城市的天空下，记不清。
总是记不清。
那些温暖或是心酸，早已记不清。孤单却留了下来，执拗而淡然。还有距离，模糊的，看不穿的山水人心。深信终至怀疑，爱曾成恨，伸出的手无人交握就此冻结在半空，最后默默收回来，没心没肺笑着，抱紧自己。

做过一个梦。没有想到一切已尘埃落定如此之久以后，竟然还会梦见那些日子。
梦里校园简单依旧。天晴，篮球场边梧桐树高高，我们一起站在树下望。我说你还记得以前么，那时雨后球场上总是有小洼的积水，我们用竹子的大扫帚把水抹开了，然后打球。沉默。
当时确乎是安心的，连天空都是当年熟悉的蓝，你就在我左侧，微风温暖柔和。
然而现在回想起来，梦里只剩下沉默。
拼命想也想不起来那一刻你在看着什么。

当我说着想去那个城市的时候，我是认真的。
那么自然就想要随着去到那里了，一如四年前。但我还能追回什么？电话里老友惊诧的口吻说这么多年了。多可笑，都这么多年了。QQ头像相对静默，短信自话自说。你看多可笑，这么多年过去我还是如此笨拙。
明明自知没有期待没有失望没有前路，还是如此笨拙。
同样认真地决定放弃。删了手机号拖黑了Q，梦着自己的梦，而彼此曾经说过的话，你忘了，我也不再记得。

如果默契褪色成习惯终至模式。如果热烈渐渐冷却。
如果我望着的并不是完整的你，你拥抱的也不是全部的我，曾有的美好，大约也算谎言。潜意识中自我欺瞒，坚信我们终究是和旁人不同的，貌似诚恳，到最后，连对方也有那么一瞬终于相信。
而真实又是什么时候被埋葬在哪里呢？

他们说不值得。他们说该长大了。他们说长大就要学会取舍，理智选择。
你说不可能了。
隔着蒙尘的车窗玻璃，你不看我。
没有回音的短信和静默的Q。
梦里只剩沉默。
回望。来路空荡。那里已经没有任何人了。

END

2006-3-10

满篇没有力度的句子，大约这样的心境本也是苍白的吧。权作，嗯，某些不得不说的碎碎念而已，不得不说，却也不必谁来听，对着安静的空气说出来，也就罢了。
今天把壁纸换成了大二那年高中同学会大家的合影。来路早就空无一人，我们都已经向前走出很远了，追不上步伐却也不必去追。这样也好。真的很好。

第三篇

接下来怎样？

恶魔们的绝对丑陋中包含着一种朴素的美。在人们对待这些造物这方面，没有丁点含糊、犹豫或是误解的余地。你不会和恶魔赌博。你不会听信它们的谎言。你将它们逐出，毁灭它们，把它们从这个世界清除掉——即使面对着利用它们的力量去拯救他人这种勉强可认为算是善良行为的诱惑。

这对于很多人来说是一个很难领会的观念，而且导致了很多错误地召唤恶魔并且允许那些造物背离他们初衷——那最初的目的也许只是为某个问题求得答案——而行动的法师和牧师们的身败名裂，因为他们被这造物所能提供的力量所蛊惑。那些遭到毁灭的施法者中有很多人坚信自己是在通过强迫恶魔们随侍左右、通过支撑他们的那些理想、通过由恶魔战士建成的大军，做正确的事。他们认为，如果最终结果被证明是更好的话，那又有什么坏处呢？如果有小妖精威胁到自己国土的话，难道一位贤明的君主不会善加考虑把一些“受到约束的”恶魔加入到他的国家防卫力量中去吗？

我想不会，因为对善良的保护如果有赖于利用这样显而易见且不可救药的邪恶去击退另一种邪恶，那也就已经没有什么真正值得去捍卫了。

因此，恶魔们的唯一用处只在于，当它们必须背叛罪恶之源而且身处高度控制之下以致无望逃脱时，将其推上第一战线。我确信凯德立在高飞之灵那安全的召唤室里正是这么做的，正如无数牧师和法师曾经做过的一样。但这样的召唤并不是没有风险，即使防护圈形成得十分完美，因为有一种诱惑始终存在：拥有足够的操纵力量去奴役一个巴洛魔或是判魂魔。

在这诱惑中一定长存着某种不可救药邪恶的实现。不可救药。不存任何希望。在任何这种交易中报偿的概念都是至关重要的决定性一环。一旦报偿成为可能，锻造刀刃使其更加致命，当履行的时机迫在眉睫时握紧武器，然后在敌人无望偿还时毫不怜悯地发起猛烈攻击。

我怀疑就这个尺度而言，阿提密斯•恩崔立会处于一个怎样的位置？这个人类真的是那么不可救药毫无希望吗？

以前我坚信事实就是这样，之后却又不那么肯定了。没人会向阿提密斯•恩崔立伸出援手因为这个人类决不会接受任何帮助。他最大的缺点就是他的骄傲——不同于很多逊色于他的战士们吹嘘的自傲，那是一种绝对独立不屈自恃的骄傲。我原本能向他指出他的错误，正如曾以任何方式认识他的任何人所能做的一样，但他不会听取我的忠告。

然而对这个人类来说或许还是存在着某种被救赎的希望。我不知道他的愤怒之源在哪里，但那一定是十分骇人的遭遇。但我决不会允许那个原由——不管它曾有多么艰辛和可怕——以任何方式为这个人类的所作所为释罪。恩崔立那长剑和标志性匕首上沾染的鲜血是他必须以一己之力背负的重荷。

相信他承受这个并不是那么轻松的事。它如黑龙的喷吐一样烧灼他的皮肤，贪婪啃噬他内心的一切。在我们最后一场遭遇战中，我看清了他黯色双眼深处那沉静而阴郁的痛苦。我打败了他，本来能杀掉他，事实上我相信从很多角度来讲他希望我乐于这么做，希望我终结掉他那在很大程度上是自愿选择承受的苦难。

那痛苦使我止住了自己的刀，我内心存有一丝希望：在阿提密斯•恩崔立灵魂深处某个地方已经有所认知，他的生活方式需要作出改变，他现在正依循前行的道路如此空虚并将最终通向绝望。双刀在手站在这个毫无防备的人类面前，许许多多念头飞快掠过我的脑海。当看到他双眼深藏的痛苦并且明白那很可能是救赎的前兆，我怎能就此发起攻击？然而，当清楚意识到放任阿提密斯•恩崔立走出水晶塔可能招致其他人的厄运我又怎能不这样做？

这的确是个两难的选择，一个良知与平衡的转捩。我发觉在那临界瞬间自己得出的答案竟然是关于我的父亲札克纳凡。我明白就恩崔立而言他和札克并不是那么不同，而事实上这两者也的确有着相似之处。他们都是一个敌意环境下的幸存者，都向各自所认知的邪恶作出了某种妥协。同时，以各自的认知而言，这两者又都没有背弃自己的原则而杀掉任何一个不该杀的人。难道那些为卡林港卑劣帕夏搏命的战士和杀手们比之卓尔家族士兵而言，处境就能说是更好吗？所以，从很多角度来说，札克的行动和这人类杀手的所作所为真的没什么不同。都只不过是在一个充满阴谋、危机和邪恶的世界中挣扎求存罢了。两者同样借助残酷无情的手段从各自的禁锢中幸存下来。当恩崔立环视他的世界，他的牢狱，他是否满怀厌恶和沮丧一如札克环视魔索布莱？到那时这杀手是否会失掉他惯常的冰冷面具，一如那个在担任杜垩登家族侍父期间杀死无数黑暗精灵的武技长曾经所为一般？

当我追击将瑞吉斯当作囚犯带走的杀手而第一次来到卡林港（我必须承认，即使当时他采取那种行动也确实是正当的），我意识到自己情不自禁把这两个人进行了对比，而这样的对比真的让人非常困扰。从高超的武技和表面上看来毫不迟疑的杀戮欲来看，他们是多么的相近？那么，当我能挥刀对恩崔立砍下那一刻，使我止住了手中弯刀的是否正是自己内心深处那因札克而生的莫名情绪？

不，我说不，而且我必须坚信这一点，因为父亲在谁该杀谁不该杀这个问题上远有更强的分辨力。我了解札克的真心，清楚他还拥有去爱的能力，而仅仅这一点就是阿提密斯•恩崔立的真实自我所无法与之相提并论的。

至少以他目前的状态而言是这样，但掩藏在杀手那残忍的行为方式下，这个人还有望能找到一线光明吗？

也许吧，如果能听说他伸开双臂紧紧拥抱住了光明我真会非常高兴。然而，事实上我怀疑永远没有任何人或事物能穿透阿提密斯•恩崔立目前那厚重而看似难以渗入的冷漠盔甲、激发出他最后一息怜悯与同情。

——崔斯特•杜垩登

[TBC]

再一个半成品，原因同前：本章余部貌似都是凯德立和某女亲切交谈中……T T
不过，小黑对阿恩的某一些评价让我很开心喔^o^

以下为原文：

Part 3

                       NOW WHAT?
   
    There is a simple beauty in the absolute ugliness of
demons. There is no ambiguity there, no hesitation, no
misconception, about how one must deal with such creatures.
You do not parlay with demons. You do not hear their lies.
You cast them out, destroy them, rid the world of them-even
if the temptation is present to utilize their powers to save
what you perceive to be a little corner of goodness.
    This is a difficult concept for many to grasp and has
been the downfall of many wizards and priests who have
errantly summoned demons and allowed the creatures to move
beyond their initial purpose-the answering of a question,
perhaps-because they were tempted by the power offered by
the creature. Many of these doomed spellcasters thought they
would be doing good by forcing the demons to their side, by
bolstering their cause, their army, with demonic soldiers.
What ill, they supposed, if the end result proved to the
greater good? Would not a goodly king be well advised to add
"controlled" demons to his cause if goblins threatened his
lands?
    I think not, because if the preservation of goodness
relies upon the use of such obvious and irredeemable evil to
defeat evil, then there is nothing, truly, worth saving.
    The sole use of demons, then, is to bring them forth
only in times when they must betray the cause of evil, and
only in a setting so controlled that there is no hope of
their escape. Cadderly has done this within the secure
summoning chamber of the Spirit Soaring, as have, I am sure,
countless priests and wizards. Such a summoning is not
without peril, though, even if the circle of protection is
perfectly formed, for there is always a temptation that goes
with the manipulation of powers such as a balor or a
nalfeshnie.
    Within that temptation must always lie the realization
of irredeemable evil. Irredeemable. Without hope. That
concept, redemption, must be the crucial determinant in any
such dealings. Temper your blade when redemption is
possible, hold it when redemption is at hand, and strike
hard and without remorse when your opponent is beyond any
hope of redemption.
    Where on that scale does Artemis Entreri lie, I wonder?
Is the man truly beyond help and hope?
    Yes, to the former, I believe, and no to the latter.
There is no help for Artemis Entreri because the man would
never accept any. His greatest flaw is his pride- not the
boasting pride of so many lesser warriors, but the pride of
absolute independence and unbending self-reliance. I could
tell him his errors, as could anyone who has come to know
him in any way, but he would not hear my words.
    Yet perhaps there may be hope of some redemption for the
man. I know not the source of his anger, though it must have
been great. And yet I will not allow that the source,
however difficult and terrible it might have been, in any
way excuses the man from his actions. The blood on Entreri's
sword and trademark dagger is his own to wear.
    He does not wear it well, I believe. It burns at his
skin as might the breath of a black dragon and gnaws at all
that is within him. I saw that during our last encounter, a
quiet and dull ache at the side of his dark eyes. I had him
beaten, could have killed him, and I believe that in many
ways he hoped I would finish the task and be done with it,
and end his mostly self-imposed suffering.
    That ache is what held my blade, that hope within me
that somewhere deep inside Artemis Entreri there is the
understanding that his path needs to change, that the road
he currently walks is one of emptiness and ultimate despair.
Many thoughts coursed my mind as I stood there, weapons in
hand, with him defenseless before me. How could I strike
when I saw that pain in his eyes and knew that such pain
might well be the precursor to redemption? And yet how could
I not, when I was well
    aware that letting Artemis Entreri walk out of that
crystalline tower might spell the doom of others?
    Truly it was a dilemma, a crisis of conscience and of
balance. I found my answer in that critical moment in the
memory of my father, Zaknafein. To Entreri's thinking, I
know, he and Zaknafein are not so different, and there are
indeed similarities. Both existed in an environment hostile
and to their respective perceptions evil. Neither, to their
perceptions, did either go out of his way to kill anyone who
did not deserve it. Are the warriors and assassins who fight
for the wretched pashas of Calimport any better than the
soldiers of the drow houses? Thus, in many ways, the actions
of Zaknafein and those of Artemis Entreri are quite similar.
Both existed in a world of intrigue, danger, and evil. Both
survived their imprisonment through ruthless means. If
Entreri views his world, his prison, as full of wretchedness
as Zaknafein viewed Menzoberranzan, then is not Entreri as
entitled to his manner as was Zaknafein, the weapons master
who killed many, many dark elves in his tenure as patron of
House Do'Urden?
    It is a comparison I realized when first I went to
Calimport, in pursuit of Entreri, who had taken Regis as
prisoner (and even that act had justification, I must
admit), and a comparison that truly troubled me. How close
are they, given their abilities with the blade and their
apparent willingness to kill? Was it, then, some inner
feelings for Zaknafein that stayed my blade when I could
have cut Entreri down?
    No, I say, and I must believe, for Zaknafein was far
more discerning in whom he would kill or would not kill. I
know the truth of Zaknafein's heart. I know that Zaknafein
was possessed of the ability to love, and the reality of
Artemis Entreri simply cannot hold up against that.
    Not in his present incarnation, at least, but is there
hope that the man will find a light beneath the murderous
form of the assassin?
    Perhaps, and I would be glad indeed to hear that the man
so embraced that light. In truth, though, I doubt that
anyone or anything will ever be able to pull that lost
    flame of compassion through the thick and seemingly
impenetrable armor of dispassion that Artemis Entreri now
wears.
    -Drizzt Do'Urden

第四章

数种前路，数种可能

恩崔立藏身于门口的阴影中，按捺住满心好奇侧耳倾听着正从房间里传出的一阵自言自语。他只能弄明白这番话的一小部分含义。贾拉索正兴奋地用卓尔语飞快说着什么。而恩崔立除了对地底卓尔语的词汇掌握十分有限之外，从目前这个距离他也根本听不清每一个词。

“他们不会长期保持领先于我们，因为我们的动作太快了。”这个惟利是图的领导者说。杀手听清了这一句而且总算是能把整个句子逐词翻译过来，因为看起来贾拉索似乎是在鼓励某人。“是啊，他们会一条街道一条街道地垮台。有谁能和我们联手的力量相抗衡呢？”

“我们联手？”杀手无声重复着，翻来覆去咀嚼这个卓尔词汇以确保自己的翻译是恰当的。我们？佣兵头子不可能是在说他和恩崔立的合作，甚至也不是指巴萨多尼公会的残余势力。相对达耶特独立佣兵团的力量而言，这些不过是次要的附庸。那么，难道贾拉索在恩崔立没有觉察的情况下进行了某种新的交易？也许那是一桩和某个帕夏达成的协议，或者甚至是和一种更强力量进行的密约？

杀手倾身靠得更近，留意听着可能出现的任何恶魔或魔鬼的名字——或者可能是灵吸怪。他忍不住因这三个念头而战栗起来。恶魔们太不可预知、太原始野蛮以致无法真正很好地服务于任何联盟。在某些特殊时刻它们会不惜一切代价满足自己的某些私欲而毫不关心联盟的利益。魔鬼则更可预知——可预知得过头了。就那个种族等级森严的世界观看来，它们自己难免盘踞在金字塔的顶端。

尽管如此，与杀手兴起的第三个念头——事关某些灵吸怪——相比，他几乎希望自己能听见佣兵头子提到一只强大恶魔的名字。在受困魔索布莱的那些日子里恩崔立曾被迫和灵吸怪打交道——夺心魔是卓尔城市生活中不可避免的一部分——他绝对永远永远也不想再见到任何这种有着黏糊糊脑袋的卑劣生物了。

他又偷听了一会儿，贾拉索似乎已经冷静下来并且舒舒服服坐回椅子里。当惟利是图者仍在自说自话着便衣公会那迫在眉睫的覆亡时，杀手大步走进房间。

“就你一个人？”他装作若无其事地问，“我还以为听见有谁在跟你说话。”

人类有些宽慰地注意到这天佣兵头子并没有戴着那个魔法的防护性眼罩，那么很可能这个卓尔刚才并没有会见任何灵吸怪，或者在短时间里也没有这个打算。这个眼罩能防护心灵魔法，而整个世界没有什么比那些可怕的夺心魔更擅长这一类招数了。

“只是整理一些思路，”贾拉索解释道，他说起地表通用语来轻松自如，流畅得就像在说自己的母语，“有太多事正在改变。”

“而且通常都伴随危机。”恩崔立回答。

“对有些人而言是这样没错。”卓尔吃吃笑着说。

杀手狐疑地注视着他。

“当然你不会相信便衣工会能与我们的力量相抗衡吧？”惟利是图者怀疑地问。

“在正面的战斗中那是不可能的。”杀手说，“但这正说明了它能与其他势力共存多年的手段。在明刀明枪的情况下他们没办法和很多力量斗，但他们总是能找到某种办法幸存下来。”

“那只是因为运气罢了。”

“那是因为他们错综复杂关联着很多更强大的势力，”恩崔立纠正道，“如果一个人处于巨人的保护下就没必要追求体格上的强有力。”

“除非那个巨人与某个敌人有更深厚的友谊，”佣兵头子打断了他，“而众所周知巨人们是靠不住的。”

“你和卡林港的那些大领主们谈好了？”人类毫不信服地问，“对方是谁？为什么我没有涉入协商？”

贾拉索只高深莫测地耸了耸肩。

“不可能，”杀手下结论说，“就算你对他们之中某一个或者更多人作出警告，便衣公会已经存在太久了，早就成为卡林珊权力之网中牢固而不可撼动的一部分，对他们这种程度的背叛是不可能成功的。他们自有同盟来保护对抗其他同盟。当屠杀他们时，针对地区权力结构这样一个突然而不稳定的变化而出现的敌对势力就算是贾拉索和达耶特独立佣兵团也没法彻底铲除。”

“也许我和卡林港有史以来最强大的存在结成了同盟。”贾拉索以他那种典型的摸棱两可夸张地说。

恩崔立眯起黯色的眼睛专注凝视这个令人忍无可忍的卓尔，寻找着某些蛛丝马迹，任何线索，试图推断出这不寻常的行为所揭示的内幕。贾拉索通常都是秘密而隐匿的，一直保持着神秘，而且不管在任何时候都准备抓住时机为自己赢得更大的力量和利益，然而，这件事还是有什么地方似乎有些不对劲。在杀手看来，对便衣公会迫在眉睫的攻击是一个传奇的贾拉索决不会犯的大错。那么，很显然这诡诈的卓尔的确找到了某种强大的同盟，或者对整个时局有了某种更高深的理解。恩崔立很怀疑后一种可能，因为与卡林港街道联系最紧密的人不是佣兵头子而是他本人。

但即使是以这种种可能之一来看，杀手还是觉得有什么地方不太对劲。贾拉索表现得自大而傲慢——而且这卓尔的确是那么认为的！——然而以前他从没见过这种自信，特别是在现在这种具有潜在爆炸性的情况下。

一旦恩崔立想到便衣公会垮台的必然性更深一层，整个局势似乎只能用更具爆炸性来形容。他太清楚黑暗精灵的毁灭性力量，也毫不怀疑佣兵团会屠杀敌对公会，但这必然的胜利中暗藏了太多内幕——的确太多了，因为这个卓尔表现得这样悠闲自若。

“你在这场战斗中的任务已经决定了吗？”佣兵头子问。

“跟我无关，”杀手回答的语调无疑说明他对此感到非常满意，“莱基和金穆瑞指派了所有的人但是把我排除在外。”

贾拉索放声大笑起来，因为这番陈述背后的事实——恩崔立竟然乐意被排斥——表现得太明显了。

杀手眼睛一眨不眨地注视着他，没有露出丝毫笑容。惟利是图者必须明白自己刚走进了怎样的险境，这潜在的悲惨处境会把他和整个佣兵团赶回魔索布莱的黑暗洞窟中。也许有另一种可能，他沉思着。也许贾拉索想要返回故乡于是狡猾地推动这场迁移。仅仅这个想法就让恩崔立退缩起来。如果这卓尔要把他拖回那个鬼地方，还不如痛快杀了他。

也许杀手会被委任为一个代理，就像路斯坎的莫里克一样。不，杀手暗自下了结论，那是不够的。卡林港远比路斯坎要危险，如果卓尔兵团的力量被迫撤离，他决不会这样铤而走险。有太多强大的敌人会被留下来。

“很快就要开始了，如果说现在还没开始的话。”贾拉索说，“这样一切很快就会结束。”

比你所相信的还要快，恩崔立想，但他保持了沉默。这个人类通过深思熟虑、通过小心翼翼权衡一言一行的后果而求存。他如某种精神上的同类般了解贾拉索，但他无法认同这个夜晚所上演的眼前一切，不管从哪个角度来看，这都像是一场代价高昂而多此一举的赌博。

贾拉索到底知道什么他没察觉到的事？

                         * * * * *

……

[TBC]

如标题，这只是一章的1/4，后面貌似都没有阿恩的份，于是寒假里就是在这章没了动力^^bbb（旁：喂喂，不要找客观借口= =++）
目前TOB进行中，可是，当很久不摸这个，不管小兹对小依说了什么，心里终究会有点空。想起某个总是沉默潜行的身影……

以下为原文：

Chapter 4
                MANY ROADS TO MANY PLACES

    Entreri stood in the shadows of the doorway, listening
with great curiosity to the soliloquy taking place in the
room. He could only make out small pieces of the oration.
The speaker, Jarlaxle, was talking quickly and excitedly in
the drow tongue. Entreri, in addition to his limited Deep
Drow vocabulary, couldn't hear every word from this
distance.
    "They will not stay ahead of us, because we move too
quickly," the mercenary leader remarked. Entreri heard and
was able to translate every word of that line, for it seemed
as if Jarlaxle was cheering someone on. "Yes, street by
street they will fall. Who can stand against us joined?"
    "Us joined?" the assassin silently echoed, repeating the
drow word over and over to make sure that he was translating
it properly. Us? Jarlaxle could not be speaking of his
alliance with Entreri, or even with the remnants of the
Basadoni Guild. Compared to the strength of Bregan D'aerthe,
these were minor additions. Had Jarlaxle made some new deal,
then, without Entreri's knowledge? A deal with som pasha,
perhaps, or an even greater power?
    The assassin bent in closer, listening particularly for
any names of demons or devils-or of illithids, perhaps. He
shuddered at the thought of any of the three. Demons were
too unpredictable and too savage to serve any alliance. They
would do whatever served their specific needs at any
particular moment, without regard for the greater benefit to
the alliance. Devils were more predictable- were too
predictable. In their hierarchical view of the world, they
inevitably sat on top of the pile.
    Still, compared to the third notion that had come to
him, that of the illithids, Entreri was almost hoping to
hear Jarlaxle utter the name of a mighty demon. Entreri had
been forced to deal with illithids during his stay in
Menzoberranzan-the mind flayers were an unavoidable side of
life in the drow city-and he had no desire to ever, ever,
see one of the squishy-headed, wretched creatures again.
    He listened a bit longer, and Jarlaxle seemed to calm
down and to settle more comfortably into his seat. The
mercenary leader was still talking, just muttering to
himself about the impending downfall of the Rakers, when
Entreri strode into the room.
    "Alone?" the assassin asked innocently. "I thought I
heard voices."
    He noted with some relief that Jarlaxle wasn't wearing
his magical, protective eye patch this day, which made it
unlikely that the drow had just encountered, or soon planned
to encounter, any illithids. The eye patch protected against
mind magic, and none in all the world were more proficient
at such things as the dreaded mind flayers.
    "Sorting things out," Jarlaxle explained, and his ease
with the common tongue of the surface world seemed no less
fluent than that of his native language. "There is so much
afoot."
    "Danger, mostly," Entreri replied.
    "For some," said Jarlaxle with a chuckle.
    Entreri looked at him doubtfully.
    "Surely you do not believe that the Rakers can match our
power?" the mercenary leader asked incredulously.
    "Not in open battle," Entreri answered, "but that is how
it has been with them for many years. They cannot match
many, blade to blade, and yet they have ever found a way to
survive."
    "Because they are fortunate."
    "Because they are intricately tied to greater powers,"
Entreri corrected. "A man need not be physically powerful if
he is guarded by a giant."
    "Unless the giant has more tightly befriended a rival,"
Jarlaxle interjected. "And giants are known to be
unreliable."
    "You have arranged this with the greater lords of
Calimport?" Entreri asked, unconvinced. "With whom, and why
was I not involved in such a negotiation?"
    Jarlaxle shrugged, offering not a clue.
    "Impossible," Entreri decided. "Even if you threatened
one or more of them, the Rakers are too long-standing, too
entrenched in the power web of all Calimshan, for such
treachery against them to prosper. They have allies to
protect them against other allies. There is no way that even
Jarlaxle and Bregan D'aerthe could have cleared the
opposition to such a sudden and destabilizing shift in the
power structure of the region as the decimation of the
Rakers."
    "Perhaps I have allied with the most powerful being ever
to come to Calimport," Jarlaxle said dramatically, and
typically, cryptically.
    Entreri narrowed his dark eyes and stared at the
outrageous drow, looking for clues, any clues, as to what
this uncharacteristic behavior might herald. Jarlaxle was
often cryptic, always mysterious, and ever ready to grab at
an opportunity that would bring him greater power or
profits, and yet, something seemed out of place here. To
Entreri's thinking, the impending assault on the Rakers was
a blunder, which was something the legendary Jarlaxle never
did. It seemed obvious, then, that the cunning drow had
indeed made some powerful connection or ally, or was
possessed of some deeper understanding of the situation.
This Entreri doubted since he, not Jarlaxle, was the best
connected person on Calimport's streets.
    Even given one of those possibilities, though, something
just didn't seem quite right to Entreri. Jarlaxle was cocky
and arrogant-of course he was!-but never before had he
seemed this self-assured, especially in a situation as
potentially explosive as this.
    The situation seemed only more explosive if Entreri
looked beyond the inevitability of the downfall of the
Rakers. He knew well the murderous power of the dark elves
and held no doubt that Bregan D'aerthe would slaughter the
competing guild, but there were so many implications to that
victory-too many, certainly, for Jarlaxle to be so
comfortable.
    "Has your role in this been determined?" Jarlaxle asked.
    "No role," Entreri answered, and his tone left no doubt
that he was pleased by that fact. "Rai-guy and Kimmuriel
have all but cast me aside."
    Jarlaxle laughed aloud, for the truth behind that
statement-that Entreri had been willingly cast aside- was
all too obvious.
    Entreri stared at him and didn't crack a smile. Jarlaxle
had to know the dangers he had just walked into, a
potentially catastrophic situation that could send him and
Bregan D'aerthe fleeing back to the dark hole of
Menzoberranzan. Perhaps that was it, the assassin mused.
Perhaps Jarlaxle longed for home and was slyly facilitating
the move. The mere thought of that made Entreri wince.
Better that Jarlaxle kill him outright than drag him back
there.
    Perhaps Entreri would be set up as an agent, as was
Morik in Luskan. No, the assassin decided, that would not
suffice. Calimport was more dangerous than Luskan, and if
the power of Bregan D'aerthe was forced away, he would not
take such a risk. Too many powerful enemies would be left
behind.
    "It will begin soon, if it has not already," Jarlaxle
remarked. "Thus, it will be over soon."
    Sooner than you believe, Entreri thought, but he kept
silent. He was a man who survived through careful
calculation, by weighing scrupulously the consequences of
every step and every word. He knew Jarlaxle to be a kindred
spirit, but he could not reconcile that with the action that
was being undertaken this very night, which, in searching it
from any angle, seemed a tremendous and unnecessary gamble.
    What did Jarlaxle know that he did not?

                         * * * * *

……