龙腾世纪2官网公布的Anders（安德斯）和Isabela（伊莎贝拉）背景小说翻译（有关于Anders的关键信息）

MegaStone

一楼英文版的Anders背景故事，二楼安德斯背景故事翻译，三楼Isabela背景故事翻译
先上英文版

Anders

The light here isn't right. It's too yellow. Too harsh. And it all comes from above. For a moment, I'm not sure why that seems wrong. The sun… that's always been there, right? What am I remembering?
   
The word comes back to me. The Fade. I am a mage. I've spent time in the place I remember. It is a land of mist, of dreams. And I'm right; the light there is different, emanating from the ground, the walls, not a single pinpoint source. But I've never been more than a visitor there. Why does it suddenly feel like home?

What else can't I remember?

I sit up, and the light brightens, darkens, steadies. The throb in my head returns and without thinking, I draw on a breath of mana to drive it away. The pain lifts as the magic settles over it, soothing and cooling. I try to think. Let's start with something simple. My name. What is my name?

I am Anders.
I am Justice.
This never used to be so hard.

Suddenly it comes back to me. Justice's voice, my voice, speaking through the rotting face of the body he once claimed. "It is time. You have shown me an injustice greater than any I have faced. Do you have the courage to accept my aid?"

I knew what he offered.

To stay in the mortal realm, he needs a host, a body to inhabit for a lifetime, not a corpse which will rot out from beneath him. If I gave him that, he would give me all he had, all he was. Together, we could remake Thedas into a world where justice rules, not fear.

A world with no Circle. No templars. A world where every mage can learn to use their gifts and still return home at night. Where no mother ever need hide her child… or lose him to the fear of his neighbors. Where magic is recognized as a gift of the Maker, not the curse it has become.

It's almost too much to imagine. The Circle, the templars, they've shaped my life. I was no more than twelve when they came for me. My mother wept when they fixed the chains to my wrists, but my father was glad to see me gone. He had been afraid, ever since the fire in the barn. Not just afraid of what I could do, but afraid of me, afraid my magic was punishment for whatever petty sins he imagined the Maker sat in judgment upon.

I always knew I wouldn't submit. I could never be what they wanted from me -- compliant, obedient, guilty. But before Justice, I was alone. I never thought beyond my own escape: Where would I hide? How long before they found me?

Now, even that thought repulses me. Why should so many others live with what I will not? Why must the Circle of Magi stand? Just because it always has, just because those who read Andraste's words twisted them to mean that mages must be prisoners? Why has there never been a revolution?

"He's coming to." A voice, getting closer. Someone I know. A Grey Warden.

"What in the Maker's name happened to him?" There are two of them. This one I don't know.

"He just went crazy. His eyes were glowing… His bloody skin cracked open and it was like he was on fire inside. Just kept raving… something about injustice, a revolution. Thought I was going to have to put the blighter down like a mad dog, then he just collapsed."


"Damned mages."

I struggle to stand, to open my eyes and face them like a man, not the chewed-up pile of hurlock spew I feel like. I can see them now. It's Rolan; of course it is. The price I had to pay for the Grey Wardens' generosity in recruiting me out from under the templars' noses. He was one of them, before his Chantry was destroyed by the darkspawn and he felt the calling to join the Wardens. No one ever said a deal had been struck, but as soon as the templars stopped their protests, Rolan turned up in the Wardens, and we've fielded every assignment together since. It's all too clear the templars sent him to keep watch.

And whatever possessed me to make my deal with Justice anywhere he might witness?

As he appears, I regret that choice of words, because something stirs inside me, and I wonder if it's harder for Justice to exert his will in a body that a living consciousness still inhabits. But it's a futile question, because his thoughts are mine and he is me, and I'm no longer sure what I was even asking.

Rolan is in front of me now, and the white griffin on his chest plate blurs in my sight with the steel-grey sword-of-flames on his companion's armor, and I know with white-hot certainty that Rolan has betrayed me.

"The Wardens agreed we can't harbor an abomination," he is saying, nasal voice vibrating with smug satisfaction, and I don't need to hear more. He's brought the templars down on me, on us, and this is just what we've been waiting for.

I don't see myself when I change, only the reflection in their eyes and the sound of their screams. My arm lashes out and silverite doesn't so much break as explode in a shower of molten metal. The sword melts, running down the templar's chest, and I follow up with a wave of flames which scorch the flesh from his face, leaving only bone so hot it smolders. The trees are burning… the tent… everything around us.

Rolan is still standing, and I smell the lyrium he drank, which guarded him from the blast. But he's afraid. I see his shield jerk and know he barely resisted the urge to flee, and I have a sudden thought, "What am I?" for I've seen him face both broodmothers and abominations without fear.

And then his sword is level with my chest, and I let it come, because it is only steel and cannot hurt me, for I am not of mortal men. And when it sinks hilt-deep in my flesh with no reaction, that's when he gives up. He turns and runs, and from behind, I tear his head off at the neck, no magic, just me, whatever that is now. His blood splashes into my open mouth and it tastes like honeyed wine and the warmth spreads through me.

He hated me, and he is dead. He feared me, and he is dead. He hunted me, and he is dead.

They will all die. Every templar, every holy sister who stands in the way of our freedom will die in agony and their deaths will be our fuel. We will have justice. We will have vengeance.

And suddenly I'm alone, standing in a burning forest, with the bodies of templars and wardens at my feet. So many, and I didn't even know they were there. Didn't even know I had killed them, but the evidence is all around me. Not the aftermath of a battle as I've known it, but a bloody abattoir of rent limbs and torn and eaten flesh.

This is not justice. This is not the spirit who was my friend, my self. What has he become? What have I become? We must get out of here. There is no place for me in the Grey Wardens now.

Is there a place for me anywhere?

MegaStone

伊莎贝拉

    那个刚刚走进“吊死鬼（hanged man）”酒吧的女人的样子可真够奇葩的，破旧的衣服上面沾满了泥浆，就像一只已经在污水中泡了一周的老鼠。她那件被风风雨雨撕的破破烂烂的罩衫上面满是煤灰，虽然她的鞋的材料是上好的皮革，却已经被磨的不忍一睹，到处是补丁。但是，她的耳环非常华丽，华丽的甚至有一点傲慢。她大步走进酒吧，好像她才是这里的老板娘。
    “他们说我可以从这里弄点喝的，”她的目的非常明确，把半打银币拍在我面前的柜台上。“这些能换给我什么？”
    “这足够让你一醉，”我说。
    “那就一直给我上酒，直到这些钱用完。把酒搞的冲一点儿。”
    我用围裙擦了一下陶杯，并灌满整个酒吧最浓烈的酒。她从我手中把杯子夺走，一饮而尽。
    “你看起来很想喝啊。”我又给她倒了一杯。
    “你无法想象我有多想喝酒，”她叹了一口气，揉了揉太阳穴。“顺便说一句，他们叫我伊莎贝拉。你可能需要知道这个，我想我会在这里呆一段时间。”

    过了一小会，一个满身酒臭的码头工人走了过来。当伊莎贝拉感觉到他的手时，她眉头一皱，低下身来。码头工人刚想说什么，但却没有机会了。伊莎贝拉抓住他的手腕，将他的胳膊反折过来。他的叫声最初只是因为震惊，但随着伊莎贝拉一肘将他的脸砸在吧台上时，这叫声很快变成疼痛的哭喊。
    “再碰我一下，你身上将有更多的部位被我搞残。”她嘶嘶地说。她一根根地将那只手上的手指掰断。我听到嘎吱嘎吱的声音和一声痛嚎。码头工人匆匆逃走，边摸着自己的手边恶毒地咒骂。

    “怎么样？”她把空杯递过来，让我说两句。我对这她的那件仅仅能遮住最关键部位的衣服比划两下。穿着这样的衣服，你会受到各种人的关注，不管你愿意还是不愿意。

    “什么？你说这个？”她指着衣服上的花边，苦笑着说，“我也许会为你穿着整齐的，但我所有的好衣服都在海底呢。”

    当我还在思索这句话的涵义时，一个Lowtown的恶棍靠近了她。他一脸傻笑，油腻的嘴唇紧贴着黄褐色的牙齿。这表情与其说是笑，倒不如说是做鬼脸。“我是好运（I'm Lucky）”，他说。

    “这是个名字呢，还是一个形容词？”她问道，根本不去看他一眼。
    “都是，如果你对柯克沃尔（Kirkwall）很陌生，那你会想跟我聊两句的。我和我手下了解这里所有的东西。”

    “你知道吗，”伊莎贝拉冷冷地说，“我碰巧知道有一条狗的名字叫‘好运’，它又小又蠢，根本不知道如果它再叫两声我就会给他一脚。”

    “好运”的脸涨红了，他向他的手下们看了一眼，试图找点儿精神支持。他的手下们都在嘲笑他，一点面子都不给。“好运”想撤了。伊莎贝拉玩着陶杯，正过来又倒过去，仔细观察那些破损的地方。她的眼睛眯了起来。

    “等等，”她突然说，“如果你确实知道柯克沃尔的一切，那我们可以聊聊。”

    “好运”笑着点了点头。伊莎贝拉转过身来面对他。我注意到她那有点恶作剧般的眼神。

    “你看，”她第一次笑着说。“我在一艘沉船上丢了一点东西，我希望这个东西能被找回。”

Benzene13

完了么？感谢分享~

chiefpc

有米有小说诶

wswo

没想到安德斯的剧情这么多

Spirian

正义难道就是觉醒里的法官？

蓝色鱼泡泡

已阅，，谢谢

qyflying01

fade  另一个世界，可以称之为“灵界”，这个世界被Veil（可以翻译为“幽幕”）阻隔，禁止恶魔进入主角所在的世界。

Circle  法师塔——法师生活（被圣殿骑士囚禁）的地方，直译为法环，不过大多数人不明白这东西是啥，还是法师塔好。游戏中也是一座高塔。

darkspawn   黑潮  兽人的进攻

Grey Warden 灰袍守护者

abomination  憎恶，恶魔附身法师的产物（WOW里是个大胖子）


感觉Anders应该不是觉醒中的法官，因为法官出现的时候是穿着圣殿武士的铠甲，而这里说Anders是一个法师，法师和圣殿武士是两个对立的阶级，so~

thepine

darkspawn   我记得翻译的时候是黑灵吧，Blight才是枯潮。话说3DM的有些翻译都挺雅的

长铗归来兮

回复 9# qyflying01


    法官在起源里附身在一个死掉的圣骑身上，看起来就是个圣骑，起源故事结束后，圣骑的尸身烂掉了，法官就和anders达成交易，附身在一起了。

rye99

已阅，，谢谢

Ninedrunk

谢谢分享