HH荷鲁斯叛乱《异端初现》渣翻5(6)
他仍然想起了Turyon。这位药剂师四十年前就去世了，安格尔泰留下了一份战斗的纪念品。即使是现在，他一握着那把弯曲的、折断了的外星剑刃，就会想起药剂师被异形割断的喉咙。
事实上，这就是他保存它的原因。怀念之情。也许，这是一种病态的习惯，也是牧师们经常责备他的一种习惯。收集杀害自己兄弟的武器是不健康心理状态的标志。
安格尔泰抬起眼睛。
洛迦对聚集在完美之城废墟上的军团战士们说:“血海深仇。”
一如往常，当父亲出现在阿格尔·塔尔面前时，他把目光集中在原体脸部细节，而不是他的眼睛。
Lorgar’s eyes, the snowy grey of Colchis’s winter skies, were ringed by kohl, setting them even brighter against the primarch’s skin – skin that seemed golden to unvisored eyes.Argel Tal’s helm’s eye lenses filtered everything to a world of dark-washed tactical readouts, but it stole none of the detail. He could make out the thousands of individual Colchisian glyphs gold-inked onto the primarch’s white flesh. It was said the tattoos of cuneiform scripture covered most of Lorgar’s body. Certainly, they trailed down his face in tight, perfect lines, from his shaved head to hisjawline, each sentence a prayer of devotion, a prophetic hope for the future, or an invocation of strength from a higher power.
Where Lorgar’s regalia hid his flesh, the writing continued over the golden plates of armour, acid-etched into the shining surfaces. Yet for all his majesty, the Seventeenth Primarchdid not display his grandeur by ceremonial wargear. His armour may have been gold, but it was no more ornate than the Mark III plate worn byhis Captains. The oath papers and scrolls of scripture pinned to his breastplate and pauldrons told not of the primarch’s own glory, but his vows to his father, and his devotion to serve the people of the Imperium.
事实上，这就是他保存它的原因。怀念之情。也许，这是一种病态的习惯，也是牧师们经常责备他的一种习惯。收集杀害自己兄弟的武器是不健康心理状态的标志。
安格尔泰抬起眼睛。
洛迦对聚集在完美之城废墟上的军团战士们说:“血海深仇。”
一如往常，当父亲出现在阿格尔·塔尔面前时，他把目光集中在原体脸部细节，而不是他的眼睛。
Lorgar’s eyes, the snowy grey of Colchis’s winter skies, were ringed by kohl, setting them even brighter against the primarch’s skin – skin that seemed golden to unvisored eyes.Argel Tal’s helm’s eye lenses filtered everything to a world of dark-washed tactical readouts, but it stole none of the detail. He could make out the thousands of individual Colchisian glyphs gold-inked onto the primarch’s white flesh. It was said the tattoos of cuneiform scripture covered most of Lorgar’s body. Certainly, they trailed down his face in tight, perfect lines, from his shaved head to hisjawline, each sentence a prayer of devotion, a prophetic hope for the future, or an invocation of strength from a higher power.
Where Lorgar’s regalia hid his flesh, the writing continued over the golden plates of armour, acid-etched into the shining surfaces. Yet for all his majesty, the Seventeenth Primarchdid not display his grandeur by ceremonial wargear. His armour may have been gold, but it was no more ornate than the Mark III plate worn byhis Captains. The oath papers and scrolls of scripture pinned to his breastplate and pauldrons told not of the primarch’s own glory, but his vows to his father, and his devotion to serve the people of the Imperium.
米斯达x乔鲁诺肉
