Soon the downpour lessened, then stopped altogether.
Nissa waited until the cloudy sky above their head broke up and patches of pink sunset showed in the clouds of the swatch above their heads. Then she climbed back down.
Well, said Sorin, once he was standing on the soggy sand. I suspect we have heard the last of those scorpions. Surely they Sorin stopped in mid-sentence. He cocked his head to the side. Do you hear that?
Nissa listened. The faint sound of movement echoed off the canyon walls. She could hear something kicking rocks as it moved up the canyon. She glanced at the ledge.
Then the noise stopped. Nothing moved. The very canyon itself seemed to be holding its breath. Sorin sniffed. Well, he said.
Hush. Nissa said, putting up her hand.
After a time she swept her hand down, and they crept forward through the rocks. They moved quietly and passed around a boulder to the left and came face to face with a host of three hundred kor, their strange hooked weapons at the ready.
Robert B. Wintermute
Zendikar: In the Teeth of Akoum
The kor hookmaster was missing an eye. The socket wept yellow globules down the hookmaster s long and thin face, and he wiped the discharge away with the back of a slender hand. The fleshy barbels typical of the kor hung under his chin and almost to his belt. He was crisscrossed with harness works of pockets and loops. His clothes were tanned skins. And tethered with chains to various parts of his body were no fewer than four hooked and bladed climbing tools that Nissa was sure could double as weapons. In his left hand, he held a long, notched sword with a small hook dangling on a chain off its pommel.
All the other kor, males, females, and children, were similarly out fitted. None moved or spoke. In the silence, a rock skittered down the trench wall behind. A snail falcon cried overhead.
Nissa had seen kor fight before. They could be savage, if threatened. The Joraga had always been friendlier with the kor than other elf tribes they respected the kor s avoidance of speech.
Nissa knew the kor to be nomadic, but from the packs they carried on their backs, they looked to be fleeing, their caravan reduced to the things they carried. She noted the signs of battle: Many were bandaged, and some were using jurworrel-wood branches for crutches. And some of their weapons were missing blades, or had only half a blade. They were tired, clearly. Some were stooped so badly with exhaustion that she feared they might fall. How had they survived the flood? she wondered.
Nissa opened her hands and put them palms up the kor greeting.
The lead kor s eye moved from her to Sorin and then to Anowon, where it stayed for a longer time. The vampire stared back. Nissa could almost see him lick his lips. It occurred to her that she didn t know how long it had been since Anowon had fed.
Well, savages? Sorin said. Going for a stroll?
Nissa cringed inwardly. They re refugees. Or are you blind as well as rude?
Sorin said nothing.
Nissa kept her palms out. May we speak? she asked.
The old kor regarded her for a time. In the failing light of the canyon, the quietness of the kor was unnerving. Nissa found herself shifting her weight from foot to foot as she waited for the kor to decide whether or not they would speak.
Finally he nodded.
Nissa waited.
Oh, this is thrilling, Sorin said.
She shot him a glance before turning back to the kor. Please, she said. From where do you come?
When the kor spoke, his voice was unusually deep. It echoed off the near canyon wall. We come from the west, the kor said.
I m glad we ve figured that out, Sorin said. Can we go now?
Nissa ignored him.
What have you found?
We have found those that have woken.
Nissa put her hand in front of her mouth and wiggled her fingers like tentacles.
The kor nodded.
Brood lineage, Nissa said. Is that why you are traveling?
The kor leader looked back at the other kor and gave a signal to move on.
Nissa turned and caught Sorin yawning. Behind Sorin, Anowon stood staring at her. The vampire was always staring at her, she realized with a chill.
The kor are the lost creatures of Zendikar, Anowon said, with a strange twist to his lips, as if his comment should remind her of other lost creatures. They believe they are followed by the ghosts of their ancestors. Because of this they never stop moving. The mothers bear their young while suspended in a harness, and their fathers curse the ground nightly while imploring the sky. Both sexes use the bones of their ancestors in their daily rituals. Some go so far as to prop the dessicated corpses of their dead ancestors at the eating table. I like that last bit. A nice touch.
Why are you telling me this? asked Nissa.
I am fascinated with the kor, Anowon hissed, moving closer. Nissa inched back. I think you are fascinated with them, as well. Did you know they walk so much that the nursing mothers keep vessels of their milk on their hips, which are turned to cheese by week s end?
Nissa stared at Anowon. He had never said so many words to her, and on such an odd topic. She was not sure she liked it. In fact, she was sure she did not.
The kor left as silently as they had come. The only sound as they walked was the muted clink of the hooks hanging from their shoulder harnesses.
When they were gone, Nissa began looking for a place to sleep. The light in the sky was gone, and already the damp of the trench s floor was turning to a fine fog. The sand was wet, and they spent an uncomfortable night on the ground.
Nissa watched Anowon as they stood shivering in the predawn gray. How was the vampire feeding? She d been eating hardtack and dried warthog for the last two days.
Anowon caught her looking at him.
What are you eating? she asked.
The vampire stamped his feet and rubbed his hands together. His breath came out of his mouth in a puff. I eat when I am hungry, he replied.
He eats when I tell him, Sorin said, who also seemed well fed to Nissa. He stood in the cold as pink and as warm looking as if he d been traveling in the jungles of Bala Ged.
They walked between boulders large and small. The sand was wet under their feet, and that made the walking harder still. The crested sedge that grew on the sunless canyon floor brushed against their hands as they passed. At one point they stopped to drink from a rock pool. A huge boulder stood at the far side.
The water appeared as crystal clear as one might expect in a Bala Ged oracle pool, Nissa thought. Sorin was the first to near it. When one of the stones at the bottom of the pool moved, Nissa looked closer. Why was there a pool like this at the bottom of the trench? Nissa wondered. And after a flood. Stop, Nissa said.
Sorin turned with a scowl on his face.
That is no pool, Nissa said. Step back.