死亡烙印

首页 > 图书 > 死亡烙印 ^编辑本页 本Wiki由像你一样的用户共同编写，欢迎加入Wiki编辑 

说明

翻译：ANK、汤镬、大學和官中
数据：主要来自UESP Books

死亡烙印

死亡烙印：一则海盗传奇

海科尼尔·死印离死期不远了。

船上的军需官戈鲁·风霜完全无法接受此一事实。他的家族从祖父辈开始，就在海科尼尔手下工作，至今已过了将近六十个年头。这一点就算在他成为北方海盗中的传奇人物后也没有改变。人们称海科尼尔为“鬼魂之海的王者”，他的历久不衰与冷酷无情，恰恰有如他所巡航的那片海洋一般。他在战斗中冲锋时，身穿闪亮的魔冰护甲，有如往昔的王者一般，同时挥动着他的双刀，砍人就仿佛割草。根据亲眼见过那景象的戈鲁表示，那时的海科尼尔，真的很像神。

而这世上最畏惧海科尼尔的，要属他的船员们。他们知道他生起气来是什么样的，发起疯来是什么样的，还有他是如何地热爱拷问和杀人。更骇人听闻的是，据说他是靠着他所杀之人的灵魂与鲜血，来延长他不寻常的寿命。有人认为他是一个被放到凡界来的魔族，其他人则说他的生命、力量、护甲以及双剑，都是向梅鲁涅斯·大衮借来的，而他们之间的契约则在他的脸上留下永远无法痊愈的伤痕——死亡烙印，没有人能在直视过后不害怕退缩。

当戈鲁来到甲板上在船员的前面坐下时，这些事顷刻间全涌上他的心头。他和船上的舵手沙凛草草点个头，算是打过了招呼——那是他最主要的竞争对手。他想，到日落时，他们之中的一个将会成为船长，而另一个则会死。

当海科尼尔终于从他的舱房中现身，水手们全都安静下来。他看起来是那么地虚弱，而他的声音是那么地嘶哑。但即使如此，他还是拥有压倒性的存在感。在他环视手下的船员时，这群北海上最残酷的刽子手没人敢直视他的眼睛。最后，他叹了一口气。

“你们想知道由谁来接我的位子，而我的财宝又将如何分配对吧？”

大家心头确实萦绕着这个疑问，不过还是有些船员低声自清。海科尼尔要他们通通闭嘴。

“这些年来，我一直在寻找一个有资格接替我，或者强大到能把位子从我手中抢走的人。然而你们当中没有任何人曾经接近过这个目标，所以你们全都没有资格拥有我的一切”

海科尼尔伸长了手说道：“以梅鲁涅斯·大衮之名，我对我的护甲和双剑施加了诅咒。除非哪一天你们之中有人能在战斗中击败我，否则这艘船和它所载的一切，就连一枚金币，你们也别想分到”他抬头看着众船员：“光是饶你们一命，你们就该感谢我了”

戈鲁和沙凛对望一眼。此时如果有人站出来高声疾呼，马上便可以掀起一场叛变。一百个渴望宝藏的海贼对付一个老人会有多困难？然而他们面对的是海科尼尔，因此船员们仍旧一声都不吭。

海科尼尔把一张地图丢到戈鲁脚边。“戈鲁，你率一艘长艇，去把我的护甲埋在上面标记的地方。沙凛，我们朝我的墓穴出航。到了那里，把我和我的黄金留在里面，然后把你们的船烧了。之后，随你们爱做什么就做什么。我不再是你们的船长”说完之后，他便转身走回自己的舱房。

天亮时，戈鲁带了三个部下，划着长艇出发。他们在索瑟海姆北边的一处浅滩登陆，找到海科尼尔标记的地方扎营，并开始挖掘。

然而，此时戈鲁的心中已起了贪念。他再一次望向他们带来的那个铁箱。那老头现在不在场，搞不好都已经作古了。遵从他的命令？别傻了。

那天晚上，戈鲁撬开了箱子，取出了里面的头盔。魔冰在月光下闪闪发光。是时候了。鬼魂之海的新一代王者即将诞生。于是，他把头盔戴在头上。

而后，他放声尖叫。

时至今日，据说在索瑟海姆北岸，每到月夜仍能听见他的尖叫声。

结语-

以上节录自“海科尼尔传奇”中的最后一则。整篇传奇都环绕着海科尼尔·死印，叙述这位传说中的海贼之王的生平与冒险。其中有多少成份属实，或者纯属虚构，就交由读者们自行判断了。

亚提哲·卓拉然

瑞多然家族 书记

Deathbrand

Deathbrand

Deathbrand

A Pirate's Tale

Haknir Death-Brand was dying.

For Garuk Windrime, ship's quartermaster, it was unthinkable. His grandfather had served under Haknir, nigh on sixty years before, and even then he was a legend among the pirates of the north. "The King of Ghosts," they called him, as eternal and pitiless as the sea he sailed. To Garuk, who had seen him charge into battle, clad in armor of gleaming Stalhrim like the kings of old, his twin swords scything men like grass, Haknir was practically a god.

But none feared Haknir more than his own crew. They knew his rages, his fits of madness, how he delighted in torture and murder for its own sake. And there were even darker rumors: Some said he fed upon the blood and souls of those he killed to extend his unnatural life. Some thought him a Daedra, loosed upon the mortal world. And others said he owed his life and power, his armor and swords, to a pact with Dagon, prince of destruction. And the seal of that pact was the terrible wound that scarred his face, never to heal - the Deathbrand, which no man could look upon without flinching.

All these things ran through Garuk's mind as he took his place on deck at the head of the crew, exchanging a curt nod with Thalin, the ship's helmsman and his chief rival. By sundown, he thought, one of them would be captain. The other would be dead.

When Haknir finally emerged from his cabin, the crew fell silent. He looked frail, his voice raspy. But even so, he had a presence about him. As he looked over his men, the most brutal murderers ever to ply the northern seas, not one could meet his gaze. At last he sighed.

"You wish to know who will be my successor, and how my share of the treasure shall be divided."

That was the question, but even so, there were murmurs of protest. Haknir cut them off.

"All these years, I have looked for one who was worthy to take my place, or strong enough to take it from me. Not one of you even comes close. And so none of you shall have it."

He extended his hand. "In Dagon's name, I place a curse upon my armor, and my swords. This ship, and all it carries. Until the day when one of you can best me in combat, you shall have not a single coin." He looked up at them. "Be grateful I have left you with your lives."

Garuk and Thalin shared a single glance. Had anyone else said such a thing, there would have been mutiny. A hundred treasure-mad pirates against one old man. But this was Haknir. The crew was silent.

Haknir threw a map at Garuk's feet. "Garuk, take a longboat, and bury my armor in the places I have marked. Thalin, we sail to my tomb, where you shall leave me with my gold. Then burn your ships, and do as you will. I am your captain no more." And with that, he turned and stalked back to his quarters.

At daybreak, Garuk took his leave, and set out in a longboat with three of his men. They landed on a shoal to the north of Solstheim, at the place Haknir had marked, made camp, and began to dig.

But already, greed stirred in Garuk's heart. Time and again, he glanced at the iron-bound chest they had brought with them. The old man was gone, perhaps already dead. His orders, foolish.

That night, Garuk pried open the chest and drew out the helm within. The Stalhrim shimmered in the moonlight. It was time. Time for a new King of Ghosts to rise. He placed the helmet on his head.

And he screamed.

And it is said you can hear that screaming still, on moonlit nights, on a rocky shoal off the northern coast of Solstheim.

Postscript-

This story is one of the last in the "Haknir Saga," the tales surrounding the life and adventures of the legendary pirate king Haknir Death-Brand. How much of it is actually true, if indeed any of it is true, I leave to the reader's discretion.

- Artise Dralen

House Redoran Scribe