The last weeks of autumn had settled upon Ivgorod, and the first breath of winter had crept into the air. As night fell and the sun dipped below the horizon, I was all too grateful to take refuge in a tavern. As I entered, I noted a certain tension in the room. Despite the hour, it was not busy, with only scattered, small groups huddled at the tables around the edges of the room. The benches at the center of the room were empty except for one man.

艾夫哥罗德还有十天半月就要迎来冬天，而凉意已经迫不及待地在空气中弥散开来。此时太阳已经西下，我幸运地在天黑之前找到了一间可以落脚的小酒馆。然而一进门，我就感觉到屋内的气氛有点紧张。也许是时候还没到，这时的小酒馆里客人不多，只有零星的几撮人缩在房间角落的几张桌子边。屋子中间的几排长椅都空空如也，仅有一个男人独自坐在那里。

The man seemed ignorant of the cold. He was dressed like a beggar, wearing little more than an orange sheet wound around his body, leaving half of his chest exposed. A garland of large wooden beads hung around his thick neck. His head was completely shaved, with the exception of a wild bushy beard. Then, recognition struck me: upon his forehead he had a tattoo of two red dots, one larger than the other. As any informed student of the peoples and cultures of this world must also realize, this man was one of the monks of Ivgorod, the secretive and reclusive holy warriors of the country.

这个男人似乎一点都不怕冷。他全身上下只裹着一条橙色薄布，露出半边胸膛，除此之外就再没有什么别的了，简直就像个乞丐一样。他脖子上戴着一串大木珠，留着浓密的胡子，头发却刮得一根不剩。然后，我看见了那个标志性的文身：他的前额上有两个红点，一大一小。那么问题简单了，全世界的人都晓得，这样的人只有一种身份：他们是传说中过着隐居生活的神秘而神圣的战士，他们是艾夫哥罗德武僧。

I had heard countless fantastic stories about the monks, tales that were surely the beneficiary of significant embellishment. The monks’ skin, the accounts said, was as hard as iron, impenetrable by the blade of any sword or by the point of any arrow, and their fists could break stone as easily as you or I would snap a twig. Though the unassuming man before me seemed miles away from what I had heard and read of the monks, I approached cautiously, sliding down onto the bench across from him, eager to take his measure. He beckoned me forward with a small wave of his hand.

我听过无数的关于武僧们的奇妙的故事，还有各种天花乱坠的传说。传言武僧们的皮肤如钢铁一般坚硬，刀剑飞矢都无法伤他们分毫，而他们的铁拳可以轻而易举的击碎大石。眼前这个男人与我想像中的武僧相去甚远，一点都看不出这种威风，可虽然如此，我还是小心的凑过去，在他对面的长椅上坐下，希望能仔细观察一番。这时，他向我招了招手。

Ah, a soul brave enough to sit with me. Come, friend."

“啊，一个敢于与我同席的灵魂。过来吧，朋友。”

“骨头断裂的声音夹杂着笑声，随着拳脚声传来，我几乎无法相信自己的耳朵，他竟然一边打一边大笑着！他一个接一个的放倒敌人，直到最后只剩下一个。”