Corvec Litters the Wind
I.
The cardinal rule of trickery is this: attempting two deceptions at once typically results in the failure of both.
This old sentiment flutters across the back of my mind as I spot the Jaga, and my grip on the hammer loosens as those words from the captain finish their flight through my skull. This would not be so hard after all. The scorpion is crouched amongst the rocks at the foot of the mesa. Were I not looking for it, I never would have picked out its dull, sun-b
II.
“So what’s your problem with this Gorloh guy?”
“G’o’r’l’o’h.”
“That’s what I said. That Kanohi must be messing with your mind.”
“No, you, -there’s- apostrophes. Westing names are bizarre.”
“Rock, meet boulder.”
It has been an hour of chaperoning Corvec around Rar-Kor, a village of no more than a hundred or so Matoran. How he has yet to find the one he sold his blades to is beyond me. I am digging in. I k