Kor is fallen! No more shall the
mighty feast in her halls, no more shall she rule the world, and her
navies go out to commerce with the world. Kor is fallen! and her mighty
works and all the cities of Kor, and all the harbours that she built
and the canals that she made, are for the wolf and the owl and the wild
swan, and the barbarian who comes after. Twenty and five moons ago did
a cloud settle upon Kor, and the hundred cities of Kor, and out of the
cloud came a pestilence that slew her people, old and young, one
with another, and spared not. One with another they turned black and
died--the young and the old, the rich and the poor, the man and the
woman, the prince and the slave. The pestilence slew and slew, and
ceased not by day or by night, and those who escaped from the pestilence
were slain of the famine. No longer could the bodies of the children of
Kor be preserved according to the ancient rites, because of the number
of the dead, therefore were they hurled into the great pit beneath
the cave, through the hole in the floor of the cave.
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