魔兽军团再临广播剧 萨格拉斯之墓第一章双语版

　　我们很高兴地宣布，推出广播剧“萨格拉斯之墓”作为军团再临的序曲，由Robert Brooks编写，由Steven Pacey讲述，中文版演播者刘北辰。

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play 魔兽世界：军团再临广播剧——萨格拉斯之墓第一章（英文版）

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　　堕落的万神殿最强泰坦——黑暗泰坦萨格拉斯被提瑞斯法守护者艾格文击败后封印萨格拉斯之墓，但他的失败只是一场阴谋的开始……

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英文版文本内容：

　　The Tomb of Sargeras

　　By Robert Brooks

　　Part One： The Fate of Another

　　Almost all of the ship was gone。 Burned to nothing。

　　The metal ribs of the hull， forged in Lordaeron long ago， rested on the ocean floor。 So did the remains of the ship‘s passengers and crew。 Only small pieces of scorched wood and cloth drifted on the surface， still glowing， their green embers sizzling beneath the swells。

　　They would smolder for hours。 Fel fire could not be extinguished by mere water。

　　The debris washed up on a shore of black rocks。 A lone figure stumbled along， his skin dry and pale and weeping with sores。 He lurched toward the water and picked at the wreckage。

　　He lifted a charred plank。 Sniffed it。 His tongue flicked out， licking one of the embers。 It sparked and winked out with a hiss。 His eyes pulsed green。 He smiled。

　　“More… I need… more…”

　　He had never tasted fel before。 A larger nugget of it called to him from the south。 He staggered onward， staying close to the shore。 He knew better than to stray into Watcher territory。

　　It was hard to remember a day without his need。 He tried to think back。 Surely there had never been a time when he had wanted for nothing。 No。 It was impossible。 Those memories of standing tall in Suramar and consuming his fill of energy…

　　… those days before exile…

　　… they were just fantasies， fading quickly。 That was good。 It would be easier once they were gone。

　　He did not need Suramar。 Power—that was what he needed。 He had consumed none for days， nothing but that single ember， and there was little left to scavenge here。 There were too many others like him。 But there was more of the shipwreck offshore， and it would bring a new bounty。 He felt it。 It was not far。 So he continued forward， ignoring his exhaustion， pushing toward whatever was scratching at his mind。

　　He knew others would be drawn to it， too。

　　“But it is mine mine mine mine mine…”

　　It was so close now， calling to him from the waterline。

　　There。

　　A dead body lay facedown on the rocks， nudged gently by the waves。 Whoever this had been， he had been astonishingly powerful。 Even after death， his magical energy shone like a second sun。

　　It would be a pleasure to devour every fragment of it。

　　He fell over in his haste， then scrambled on hands and knees。 He heard cries of outrage from farther away。 More had arrived。 They would eat well， too。 There was enough for all。 But first， him。

　　He pulled the black cloak away from the corpse。 An orc。 Green skin。 Pulsing with dark magic and strange markings。 He had never seen such a strong aura。 It would sustain him for…

　　Days？ Weeks？ Years？

　　His fingers curled above the body， drawing a taste of the potent radiance。 It was vile。 And it was beautiful。 He drank deeply。

　　He felt power。 He felt fire。 He felt might。

　　He felt pain。 He felt the corpse‘s green hand close around his throat， squeezing hard。

　　He felt fear。 The orc was standing。 Not a corpse at all。 Never had been。 Glowing red eyes looked into his。 “You have not paid the price for that power， not as I have，” the orc said。 The eyes narrowed， and the lips twisted into a smile。 “But please， have more。”

　　The exile shrieked。 Torrents of corrupted fel surged into his mind。 He lived on magic。 Now he drowned in it， suffocating beneath an endless ocean of green fire。 He was filled to the brim， and yet more flooded in。

　　Then， in an instant， it was all gone。 All of the orc‘s magic。 All of his own。 Drained to the last drop。 Nothing remained but emptiness and agony。

　　Yet as his heart went still， he realized he would do anything to wield such might again…

　　---

　　With a casual gesture， Gul‘dan ended the wretch’s existence， leaving him as wet streaks on the rocks。 He had looked like an elf to Gul‘dan’s eyes， though not like any of the ones who had invaded Draenor。 Those hadn‘t seemed so sickly。 “What was he？” Gul’dan asked his master。

　　—NIGHTFALLEN。 AN EXILE FROM SURAMAR。—

　　More were nearby， running away。 They did not get far。 Gul‘dan lifted his hands， and a few moments later， the Nightfallen all fell to the ground， dead， nothing left of them but withered husks。 Green funnels of mist swirled from their bodies and toward Gul’dan‘s palms， then disappeared into his skin。

　　Gul‘dan closed his eyes and slowly exhaled。 The weight of his exhaustion had lifted just a hair， but his satisfaction went far deeper than that。 It was good to be the predator again。 If only it would last。

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