龙腾世纪审判 多利安全队友对话中文翻译一览

多利安和瓦里克（英）

　　Dorian: What's a deshyr from the Merchant's Guild doing in the middle of a battle against ancient evils?
　　Varric: I could ask the same thing of a pampered noble Tevinter.
　　Dorian: You can't call me pampered! Nobody peeled a grape for me in weeks!
　　Varric: Talk to Josephine. She can arrange something.

　　Dorian: So what's your estimation, Varric? Think we could win?
　　Varric: You aren't asking me to give odds on our beloved Inquisitor's success?
　　Dorian: What would that look like? Three to one? (Laughs.)
　　Varric: In his/her favor?
　　Dorian: After Corypheus pulled an archdemon out of his ass, are you joking?
　　Inquisitor: You would actually bet against me?
　　Dorian: Now now, if I weren't here, it'd be five to one at least.
　　(or)
　　Inquisitor: I'll take those odds.
　　Dorian: See, here is a chance to prove your confidence Varric.
　　(or)
　　Inquisitor: Enough, both of you!
　　Varric: I agree. So morally reprehensible to bet against your own side.
　　Dorian: (grunts.) I am a bad man. (aside to Varric) We'll talk later.

　　Dorian: Varric, I want a new nickname.
　　Varric: What's wrong with sparkler? Not colorful enough for you?
　　Dorian: You must know me better now. Or does the moniker you gave me five minutes after we met still apply?
　　Varric: I have the eyes of a story teller. It's a gift.
　　Dorian: So, I'm a bit of light you stick in a window sill to impress passersby? All flash, no heat? Hmm... that's actually pretty clever.
　　Varric: See? Embrace your place in the universe, Sparkler.

　　Dorian: I'm very sorry about Hawke, Varric.
　　Varric: Yeah, well... what can you do.
　　Dorian: Does he have any family, or...
　　Varric: I've had to write some letters. Let's not talk about it.

　　Varric: How are you feeling about that bet now, Sparkler?
　　Dorian: Still good actually.
　　Varric: You're crazy! We're beating Corypheus everytime we turn around. He's on the run!
　　Dorian: We're beating his minions, my hirsute little friend. Not the same thing. Besides, the moment we beat Corypheus into the sand, I'll be more than happy to pay up.
　　Varric: Heh, if he crunches us, you'll be dead.
　　Dorian: That will make it hard to spend my winnings, true.

　　Varric: Should you be married off right now, Sparkler? Little magelets running amok.
　　Dorian: If my family had their way.
　　Varric: Had someone lined up for you, huh?
　　Dorian: Livia Herathinos. Bright girl, hourglass figure, wicked tongue. Relieved I'm gone, I expect.
　　Varric: Sounds like you two would have made a happy couple.
　　Dorian: Oh yes. Trading coy insults at every party would have been a delight.

　　Varric: What do you think, Sparkler. Ten royals says the next thing we run into farts fire.
　　Dorian: I'll take that bet. I win either way.

　　Dorian: Alright, never let it be said I don't pay my debts. Here you are, five royals.
　　Varric: I tried to warn you.
　　Dorian: I had no idea nugs possess such creepy little feet. Stuff of nightmares.

　　Dorian: You know, Varric, I went to Kirkwall once.
　　Varric: Yeah?
　　Dorian: Bit of a shithole.
　　Varric: Yeah...

　　Varric: Planning on settling that fifteen crowns debt anytime soon, Sparkler?
　　Dorian: And if I don't? Do you have tiny enforcers come strip me of my holdings?
　　Varric: No, I don't know, I suppose I could always send a letter to your family.
　　Dorian: The dwarf plays dirty! Alright, alright, you win. This time.

　　Varric: I see you eyeing Bianca, Sparkler. Hands to yourself.
　　Dorian: I would't worry, she's not my type.
　　Varric: Huh. And here I thought you're a man of refined taste.
　　Dorian: For fine wine and literature, Varric. Not for... whatever that contraption is.
　　Varric: Contraption!? Don't listen to him, sweetheart. His people are vilified for a reason.

　　Dorian: So Varric, are you and Cassandra... ?
　　Varric: What? No! Why would you even ask that?
　　Dorian: Truly? Bizarre.
　　Cassandra: I'm right here!
　　Varric: Just because two people dislike each other doesn't mean they're about to kiss, Sparkler.
　　Dorian: Not according to your books.
　　Varric: Don't mistake me for that hack who wrote Hard in Hightown II. I can spell.

　　Varric: So, Sparkler, what do you think of the Inquisition so far?
　　Dorian: It's certainly interesting. An archdemon attacking me, that's a first.
　　Varric: Twenty royals says you'll see something weirder before the day's out.
　　Dorian: I don't think I should take that bet.

　　Varric: I got to ask, does any of this shit make sense to you?
　　Dorian: To me? Are you referring to the giant hole in the sky? Or the creature out of chantry cautionary tale who wants to be a god?
　　Varric: Either, I'm feeling generous.
　　Dorian: What's the problem? Someone shows up, tears the place apart, declares himself a king? That's half of history.
　　Varric: Corypheus is that terrifying drunk nobody'll ask to leave?
　　Dorian: Even after he puts a hole in the ceiling. Terribly common.

　　Dorian: You owe me twenty royals, Varric. I'd like them paid in candied dates.
　　Varric: I haven't lost that wager yet.
　　Dorian: You said we'd be ass-deep in trouble. This is more like knee-high.
　　Varric: I didn't specify who's ass, did I?
　　Dorian: Leave it to a dwarf, always lowering the bar.

　　Dorian: Varric, when you were at the Winter Palace, did you meet Celene's handmaidens?
　　Varric: The ones that finish each other's sentences? Yes I did.
　　Dorian: They were asking me about you. Personal things.
　　Varric: Err... how personal?
　　Dorian: Something about your chest hair, and whether you were currently... involved with anyone.
　　Varric: Huh, creepy.

　　Dorian: So these books you write, Varric... who actually reads them?
　　Varric: Why, anyone with some taste and a lust for adventure.
　　Dorian: That's a lot of people? Do the southern masses even know how to read?
　　Varric: (sighs.) Such an elitist.
　　Dorian: Yes? I left my homeland, Varric, I didn't up and turn peasant.

　　Dorian: I'd assumed you'd go up to Weisshaupt with Hawke, Varric.
　　Varric: Still business to deal with here, don't you think?
　　Dorian: You should be thankful. I've been to Weisshaupt. It's not good. Carved into a mountain, cold, dour, everyone so bloody serious they can't take a piss... you wouldn't like it.
　　Varric: Hawke would be there.
　　Dorian: And s/he is quite the ray of sunshine, that's true.

　　Dorian: Varric, did I hear this right? You met Corypheus before?
　　Varric: We didn't have tea and crumpets, Sparkler. I was there when he woke up.
　　Dorian: And he said, what? "Hello, I'm one of the magisters who broke into the Black City. Pleased to meet you!"
　　Varric: More like (clear throats) "Argh, I'm a darkspawn! Dumat! Dumat!" Then Hawke killed him.
　　Dorian: Not very well, it appears.
　　Varric: Tell me about it.

　　Varric: So I hear you're kind of the black sheep in your family, Sparkler.
　　Dorian: Where does that saying come from? I'm not a sheep. No one in my family could be described a "sheep".
　　Varric: I'm just saying, you and I have... something in common.
　　Dorian: Goodness, I had no idea.
　　Varric: Okay, not that much in common.

　　Dorian: Come on just answer the question, Varric
　　Varric: My mother didn't raise any morons, Sparkler, I won't touch that one.
　　Dorian: You must have an opinion. And you're a dwarf! Completely unbiased!
　　Varric: There's no way I'm answering "which inquisition mage is the best-dressed." Not for all the gold in Orzammar.
　　Vivienne: Also, the answer is obvious.

　　Varric: So you're not in the magisterium?
　　Dorian: For the last time: Not everyone in the Imperium is a magister.
　　Varric: But they do pretty much hand out seats like they're candy.
　　Dorian: Yes, but it's that black licorice candy with salt on it, not the good kind.

　　Dorian: Care to play another game of cards when we get ack to Skyhold, Varric?
　　Varric: Not if it's with your crazy Tevinter rules.
　　Dorian: Now, now, nobody ever died from those. Lately.

　　Dorian: Varric, you've seen this "red lyrium" before, yes?
　　Varric: Wish I hadn't.
　　Dorian: Do you know if a mage could access its power?
　　Varric: Don't go there, Sparkler. Don't wonder if it's useful. Don't even think about it.
　　Varric: Just stay far away, and hope none of it gets to your stupider back home.

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