Archive for the ‘Voice of Gor’ Category
New Voice of Gor No. 152-166
Saturday, July 26th, 2014New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 166 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 165 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 164 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 163 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 161 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 161 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 160 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 159 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 158 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 157 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 156 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 155 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 154 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 153 (shorter online version)
New Voice of Gor, vol. 4, issue 152 (shorter online version)
GRUEL IS CRUEL – A New Recipe is born
Tuesday, July 15th, 2014
Picture: Gorean Panther En
GRUEL IS CRUEL ~ A New Recipe is born
By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Olni
My Master was away for a day and after I finished my chores in the house I looked around for something to eat. I was so busy fixing snacks for my Master to take on his short trip that I neglected to eat my first meal of the day. I had an unpleasant feeling of shakiness and a small headache from the lack of food. As I looked around the house I found a half eaten piece of bread that had seen better days. I did not fancy eating moldy Sa-Tarna bread and I chucked it out in the street for the birds to peck at. I was getting mighty hungry. There was no coin in the house either to purchase something at the market stalls. I thought about asking the baker to put some fresh bread on my Master’s account but he has been put out with me since I poked my finger inside a cream cake on his shelf. I just wanted to taste it but, I was caught. He told me not to come back any time soon.
I thought maybe I would go to the vegetable merchant and ask him for a few suls and put the cost on my Master’s account but, the last time I went there to buy vegetables, the merchant and I had a heated argument and to spite him, I rubbed a sul in my butt crack, put it back in his display, and thumbed my nose at him. He chased me but, he is an enormous man and I out distanced him and got away. He should eat more of the vegetables he sells. Maybe he could then win a foot race with me.
I was going to have to go to where the food was plentiful, albeit, distasteful. Yes my friends, I went to the city kennel. It was there that I met the slaver of Port Olni, Master Tuor, a Tuchuck. Our slaver is a very kind man and the girls that come in for processing and training are well treated.
As all of Gor knows, the food that is commonly given slaves is a gruel consisting of Sa-Tarna meal mixed with water. This is a cheap but life sustaining repast. Before one ingests this substance, you find yourself asking, do I live to eat or do I eat to live? Slave gruel is definitely something that you eat in order to live. And so you eat it to ward off death.
And so I begged the Master Tuor to go to the kennel kitchen and get some Sa-Tarna meal. He was most accommodating and said I could have half a sack if I wanted it. I took a sack that was open and about 1/3 full. I thanked him profusely and went home. At the house I put the sack on the counter and peered in at the substance. It was yellow and coarse similar to the cornmeal I had known on Earth. First I tried mixing a half of a cup with water and heating it up in a pan. The smell that came from it was not appetizing and even with my great hunger, I threw it out into the street for the birds to peck at.
I looked around the kitchen and remembered a pitcher of bosk milk that had soured but had not been thrown out yet. So I took two cups of the soured milk, three cups of Sa-Tarna meal, and some baking soda and salt and mixed them in a bowl. It started to look more like a cake batter. I tasted the mixture and realized it was missing something. The missing ingredient could be obtained for free. I ran out the door and through the Olni Var gate to the Olni Var park. It is there that our Ubar keeps his bee hives. A low table is set up with pots of honey and a barrel full of honey. The Ubar encourages the residents to partake freely of his honey and so I took a pot of it home.
I mixed half a pot of honey into the batter and tasted it. By this time my hunger was so great that I was sampling the honey to keep from having the low sugar shakes. I took some butter from the counter and slathered the inside of the baking pan.
I poured the batter into the pan, covered it, and shoved it in the hearth, covering it with coals. I waited, sucking the honey off my fingers for about 20 ehn. I uncovered the pan and inside was a pretty good replica of the earth starch, corn bread. I cut a huge piece out of it and started gobbling it with honey.
I wound up eating the whole pan and suffered from the results of my gluttony afterward. I slept the rest of the day like an ost who just swallowed a large urt.
I was thinking of writing on a scroll my recipe for this “gruel on steroids” and passing it on to the cook at the House of Spiritweaver city kennel. I think it would even be better with a couple of vuolo eggs in the batter.
I heard a knock on the door much later and the next door neighbor wanted to know if I was throwing food out into the streets to attract urts. She made me clean it up.
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 166
ASK TEAL – Dubious Advice to Goreans
Tuesday, July 15th, 2014
Picture: Working in the fields – City of Naath
ASK TEAL ~ Dubious Advice to Goreans
By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Olni
DEAR TEAL:
I am a free woman who is desperate to find a companion. I see free men everywhere in my city, they are either with companions or walking with a retinue of slaves behind them. In other words, they are most unapproachable. I have been courted by some five men in the past but after a few weeks, they disappear from my life and if I see them in the commons or the market place, they turn the other way or cross to the other side of the street to avoid me. Will I ever find one? Where are all the men? Please advise.
DEAR FLYING SOLO:
By the three moons, there must be an epidemic on Gor. Yours is the third scroll I have received this week written about the same dilemma. You give me little to go on. I would need more information to give you the sound advice I am used to dispensing in The Voice of Gor. (coughs) For instance, how mature are you, when was your last bath, do you use mouth wash, are your clothes freshly laundered, do you pick your teeth in public. These may all be clues as to why men flee from your side. Since I have a dearth of answers to the aforementioned I will now impart a primer on dating for free women. Maybe after taking these admonitions to heart you will find the free companion of your dreams.
If your hygiene is not lacking and your robes of concealment cover your natural assets demurely, then I would look to behaviors that could be the “kiss of death” to a budding relationship.
Here are some red flags that a prospective mate will not find appealing in a date. First off, do not make sentimental appeals to his emotions. Don’t expect him to say things he is not comfortable revealing. He may not want to tell you of the last man he ran through with his blade or the paga slut he used last night. You might be moved to tears. And generally speaking, men prefer not to see a woman in tears, especially in public. And, you will be in public during your courtship. Think of HIS discomfort when you starting weeping openly in the commons.
Next on the list, and these are not in order of importance as they are ALL important, when in the presence of a free man, alighting on a cushion or chair, for the sake of the Priest-Kings, do it with a little grace. Do not assume awkward positions. A lady in robes of concealment should not sit with her knees up, spread apart, letting her gown settle in between her legs. You are not at the physicians office getting a gynecological examination. Now this rule is thrown out the window when in the privacy of your own quarters away from judgmental eyes. In that instance you may behave in the sluttiest of attitudes.
In the same vein as your body deportment, the movement of your mouth should be considered. If your intended and you share a meal, chew your food and keep your lips closed while doing so. Do not bolt it down like a tarn tearing apart a tabuk. This should not be too hard, as all women, at some point in their lives, have to learn to use their mouth and lips in pleasing ways. Also, a woman must cultivate a clear speaking voice. They must learn to laugh charmingly. They must learn to move their lips to express desire for the man. They must also learn to hold their tongues when tempted to tell the man that he smells like a rotted old corpse of a dead sleen if in fact she is trying to court his favor.
To please a man, think of watching your mother making a cake. She would be using all sorts of delightful ingredients. You would be watching her deft movements and imagine the delights of the soon to be present, cake. In that way you have learned cake making. And so it is that you could learn to please a free man, from observing those who are already doing so. Slaves learn this early on so it would behoove a free woman to learn from the observations of how good slaves treat their Masters, which is the least painful method of learning. Or, you could take years learning by trial and error, making corrections to your “How to Please a Free Man” recipe. These minor corrections to the recipe, which take place every time you have tasted a too bitter or a too sweet or a too salty concoction, can lead to the constant heart break of losing some very expensive cake ingredients because you have not treated them right. It can be compared to coming to the new love interest with a pantry of separate experiences that you could not meld into one pleasing mix. This is maybe the main reason why you have not succeeded in keeping a male in your life. It could also explain why you could be a terrible baker. But, that of course is pure supposition on my part.
Another salient point is this, be interested in what the male is saying. I am not telling you to appear interested, I am saying “BE INTERESTED”. You may say, “But, he is a boring person. How can I find what he says of interest?” I am here to say, if you find little of interest in what he says, you are with the wrong man. You had best get out of that relationship sooner than later. Find a man you are interested in. Looks fade but the intellect, if not marred by accident and disease, lasts to the end of life. One should pick brains over looks any day of the week. Although a cute smile couldn’t hurt.
The answer to your question of where are all the men and how can you get and keep one is turning into a novella of sorts. The answers to your question are long and intricate. I must say that writing about them is going to take a few more publications of this news scroll, The Voice of Gor. I would like to finish your answer this week but my Master is giving me the evil eye because I have occupied his desk in the study for too long. He permits me to write this column as long as I am not using his desk while he is home. He is motioning for me to assume the position of a pleasure slave. Uh oh, he is tapping his foot. Never fear, true to my purpose of supplying questionable advice, I will finish your answer on next week’s scroll.
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 167
UNEASY LIES THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN – Slavery Revisited
Tuesday, July 15th, 2014
Picture: The new Tharna
UNEASY LIES THE HEAD THAT WEARS THE CROWN – Slavery Revisited
By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Olni
My Master, being the Gorean male that he is, studies the scrolls of Gor’s historian, Master John Norman. I am commanded by him to study those same scrolls. My Master actually, should have been born into the Magistrates caste since he has an exacting air about him. He is, though, a brave warrior who has sent many enemies to their deaths. Woe to this slave when she does not please her Master. He will come down on my “little pipe dream” that I am lost in and wake me the hell up.
So I study the scrolls. And as I do, I am flooded with some misgivings about my “career” as a slave. The Historian lays it on the line for me. I am an animal. I am a creature without rights whose total objective in life is to work and serve the free pleasingly. This is a sobering fact for me as it most likely has been for other slaves.
Animals are bought and sold everyday. It seems that not one of these animals, who are bought and sold, have stood up and said that they refused to be sold.
Goreans are fond of naming their livestock. And so when they acquire the slave of another, who may come with the name of, let us say, “Rina”, the next owner changes the name of the animal to suit his ear. He may call the beast, “Bina” or “Gertrude”, it matters not and the slut must speak her new name when asked for it.
Slaves are given away as gifts on many occasions. When a slave is put on the auction block, she finds out very quickly that she is a performing animal. She is prodded into positions that only my physician on Earth would be privy to. Yet, there can be no embarrassment. The slave must exhibit well to fetch a high price. Goreans, who sell other types of livestock, make sure to brush the burrs out of the hair of their beasts to make them more appealing to a prospective buyer. But alas, some slaves are delivered to the auction block “en deshabille” and their prices can plummet.
But, back to the fact that slaves can be given away as gifts. Many people feel most generous around Se’Var or the winter solstice. I am not sure why that is but, I see a lot of gift giving during this period of the calendar than at any other time. At the solstice, when I am serving in the commons, I will notice the disappearance of slaves that I have been accustomed to serving alongside. It could be that they were given as gifts to their Master or Mistresses friend. I also witness. In that same commons, slaves who suddenly appear with another name. As disconcerting as that is, that same slave will scowl at you when you try to call her the old name. I would really hate to be given away as a gift to someone. And, it is a possibility. A factoid that my Master makes sure I am cognizant of.
I look back on this scroll, and though I have only written a small sample about the concept of slavery. What I already know about slavery gave me cause to pause in the commons the other day. There was a very pleasant, if somewhat preoccupied, Master sitting at a table. He was accompanied by two kajira. The three of them sat in silence. I wondered if the Master required me since there was no other slave in the commons at the time.
I approached the Master to ask if he needed service. His kajira both sneered at me. The Master thanked me and indicated that the sluts at his feet would see to his needs.
And so I arose and went back to sweeping. As I passed them, one of his slaves hissed at me. What she said made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I then looked at the pair of them with different eyes. Instead of two silk clad kajira, there appeared, in my mind’s eye, two “wanna be” free women dressed in royal purple. On their craniums they wore crowns imbedded with semiprecious stones. I had to shake my head so that my vision returned to what was reality. I went back to my sweeping.
I have this really nice broom and I like to use it. Sometimes, when no one is around, I practice wielding it as a weapon. Thank goodness, slaves are allowed to beat back the enemy. Although, all we can use are rolling pins, brooms and pans. No range weapons. The Ubara calls my janitorial equipment, the “broom of doom”. That has a nice ring to it.
I have been researching the Historian’s scrolls for any mention of slaves wearing silks before dusk. So far I have not found any prohibition on the matter. But, it should be a law. I’m just sayin’.
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 165
ASK TEAL – Dubious advice to Goreans
Tuesday, July 15th, 2014
Picture: The new Tharna
ASK TEAL ~ Dubious advice to Goreans
By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Olni
DEAR TEAL:
I am a free woman. I recently travelled to another city to visit a friend. My friend is also a free woman. She has a male slave. Her slave is quite attractive. I found myself wanting to get in the furs with this slave and so I asked my friend if I could use him. She looked at me in shock and said, “Certainly NOT, and besides in this city the Couching Laws are in effect.” I just nodded and changed the subject. Truth is, I do not know what the “Couching Laws” are. I am too embarrassed to ask anyone here in my city. Could you give me the information on these “Laws”?
DEAR FAILURE TO “HIT” THE LAW BOOKS:
Oh I am right there with you on that one. It is awkward to not be aware of the laws of a city. And, I have heard it said that ignorance of the law is no excuse for breaking it. I have never advised a free woman or slave on this subject and so I myself, “hit the books” in the great library of Port Olni to do some research on your question.
At first I thought it was a group of laws, you know like two or more people sitting on a couch? I started to think in the direction of sofa’s, settee’s, living room suite’s, big comfy chairs. Then my musings took me to psychiatric couches where some of us wind up when we have enough money to pay Master Freud or Master Jung to help us come to grips with the planet.
After a couple of afternoons of sneezing from the dust, hauling scrolls off the shelves of the library, I found your answer. In the simplest of explanations here is the Couching Law that some cities adhere to.
A free woman, if she owns a slave, may take him or her to the furs. After all, that slave is the property of the free woman and she should be accorded the total use, display, and punishment (if needed) of that property. A free woman must be discrete in her use of her slave for those reasons. In other words, you can’t make a public display of sexual congress in the commons area, the front gates, or the arena. Heaven forbid that a free woman would lower herself to make use of a slave at the front gate. Yes, it would be acceptable for a free woman to take her slave to the furs in her own domicile away from prying eyes.
Now, the Couching Laws state that a free woman may not take to her furs, the slave of another. It would be an unwise choice and dangerous.
I have here, copied onto this scroll, a quote from the Couching Laws of Port Olni.
“Any free woman who couches with another’s slave, or readies herself to couch with another’s slave, becomes herself a slave, and the slave of the slave’s Master.”
I think the law speaks for itself. It would be advantageous to curb your sexual appetites and save them for a free man. Now, if that is not possible….well it just has to be possible or your friends will soon see you naked, whipped, and collared.
DEAR TEAL:
I am a free man. My companion and I have just moved to another city. This new city is much nearer the caravan trade routes and allows me to buy merchandise for my stall much more cheaply. My companion and I were both born in the city which we just left. We have a fondness for the city of our birth. When we left we packed our flag which has the city crest on it. In our new city we are fond of flying this insignia over the stall where we sell goods in the market place. I was asked by the landlord of the stall rentals, to take down the ensign of my old city.
He said we lived in the town of “Ramberry” and he felt it was disrespectful to display the ensign of another city in the market stalls of “Ramberry”.
I am really irked by this man. I told him, “Perhaps I will, Sir and perhaps my Mother will turn into an ost next waiting hand.” I know I have to give him an answer as he is harassing us. What should I do so as not to cause a war between the two cities over my need to fly this banner?
DEAR STARTER OF WORLD WAR 3:
Hmmmm…I think I have seen your stall in “Ramberry”, the last time I was there. You sell a lot of glittery things, right? You know, nothing says “love” like receiving a present that glitters. It seems the more “love” you want to express to the recipient the more glittery the gift has to be. I remember my Master stopping by that stall. He purchased a small perfume amphora. The glass was exquisite, delicate, glittery. I hoped he was buying it for me but alas he bought it for the Ubara. He said she deserved nice things more than me. He could be right.
But I digress. Yes…I saw that flag waving in the beautiful breezes of En’var. The flags colors were brilliant against the sky. You should be proud of your former ensign. Now about the Keeper of the Stall Rents, if he is not satisfied you will continue to be accosted by him.
To avoid these frequent confrontations…you could use this flag debacle as a “marketing moment”. I would be a liar, and woe betides the slave who lies, if I told you my Master and I were not attracted to the colorful flag flown from your stall. It is a fabulous way to generate interest in your stall and its contents. I noticed that not one of the other stalls flew a banner.
I am sure, that in the market, there are diverse populations of shopkeepers, not all of whom were born in “Ramberry”. You might suggest to the Keeper of Rents that he permit all stall owners to fly the flags of the cities they are now or formerly from. Have them place a professional and tasteful display of his or her flags on their stalls. It would be surprising to learn that maybe the stall owner next to you from your old city.
This would be a civil way of solving this predicament. The market could sport a more cosmopolitan look. Also the citizens of your old city would be more apt to shop at a stall that was flying the banner of their city.
Once again, a win win situation. By the way, do you have any more of those perfume amphora? I am pestering my Master to buy me one.
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 164
Bizzy Slut
Wednesday, June 25th, 2014
Picture: Selling Verrs, City of Naath
Bizzy Slut
By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Olni
I present for your perusal part three of – “She’s Baaaaaaack”. It is incredible how just a month, a hand, a coupla weeks and a few days can get you out of the loop. My senses have been heightened by my absence. My thoughts might not be interesting to all but I hope they will at least entertain some Masters and Mistresses out there and some slaves could possibly relate to them as well. Just when you think you have “figured someone out”, they change everything about themselves down to their hair color and sometimes even their sex. It would be nice to know of these facts before you meet the person again. So one has to be acutely aware of these changes, so that social gaffes will not be committed. One must be diligent in finding out the gossip that is fresh and new.
Now that is not fair of me to say it is gossip, it is really a source of news. A citizen or slave needs to be forewarned about events that have occurred so as not to appear clueless in front of others. I once knew a Master who made the embarrassing blunder of talking about the relationship between his friend and his white silk slave in front of the his friend’s companion. The Master was never warned of the fact that the free companion was never meant to know what was divulged. This social gaffe set off Defcon 3.
Gor has the lack of high speed communiqué’s that Earth dwellers have. That in itself could be either a blessing or a curse. On Gor, we depend on the conspiratorial whisper, the furtive glance, the clandestine meeting to enlighten us about the “goings on” about town. It is amusing to find out “who shot who”. Not that we wish death on anyone. Well there are those who wish death upon others and those that do, hire assassins to kill them. It is also amusing to see that the spelling of assassin starts with the word “ass”. I have to stop a moment so that I can ponder that one.
The information that I was privy to had become common knowledge. It seems that everyone reads the same newspaper. I heard these news snippets from everyone. Most would say that I spill all these news bulletins into the scroll of the Voice of Gor. Mostly I just listen to all the “news” and put it together with my observations to create a blown up version of Gor life.
In fact, maybe there should be a 4 color publication called Gor Life. I like the sound of that. With the lack of a financial backer, it would be impossible to pull off and publish in a timely manner such as this scroll, The Voice of Gor, is.
Looking back over what I have penned in this scroll, it seems that I owe myself a slap in the face. My digression has turned into another story. Since my coming back to Port Olni, I have realized the importance of communication between Gorean’s. Scrolls are really the only way to make sure that the words you want to communicate are written plainly. The person on the receiving end reads your words, if they can read, and knows that these are YOUR wishes and not someone else’s. Scrolls passed from one to another can eliminate most of the puzzlement associated with dubious transmissions.
I have been told of slaves and free alike who have been sent to another city with a verbal message to speak into the ears of another. This is never a good way to handle your communications with others. The slave or the free person may have a faulty memory or decides he or she does not like the information you are imparting, in which case they will change the message to suit their needs. Now, if you cannot write in plain Gorean, all bets are off. You had best get someone who can write the scroll for you.
Thankfully, “White Out” correction fluid does not exist on Gor. To change the wording of a scroll, one would have to meticulously scrape minuscule fibers off of the portion of the paper that is infused with ink. If the amount scraped off makes an indent in the paper, it would be a sure sign that something has been altered.
And so to end this scroll, I will say, that if a message of yours gets misconstrued so that it creates a border skirmish, you better go in person to correct the information and not send an entire ambassadorial staff to do it for you.
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 163
I am back – The Return of the Prodigal
Saturday, June 7th, 2014
Picture: Isle of Landa [April 2011]
By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Olni
I’M BAAAAAAACK ~ The Return of the Prodigal
In the first place you could say, “She’s back? I didn’t know she was gone.” and in the second place, you could say, “Oh God no! If she calls, tell her I’m not here.” Either way I am glad to be back and I want to warn you, don’t duck into the nearest alley when you see me coming.
There were so many things to observe and hear in Port Olni on my first day back. My Master rented a house. He wanted to rent the same house he was living in when he left Olni. Unfortunately someone had rented his old house and he took the house across the lane. The houses are similar in everyway except they are across from each other. When he told me that we could not have the old dwelling, I tried to hide my piteous cries by stuffing my face with a cream cake.
He could see through my deception which means either I am a poor liar or I find it amusing to feign distress through a mouthful of cake. In any instance, he said, “Would you like me to gag you slut? I think I will gag you, then you can’t make noise and you can’t eat. That will solve your problem and mine.” I rather thought he was being harsh with me but I quickly remembered that I had no rights as I am an animal. So I stopped screwing around and came correct.
It turned out okay because the new house is more commodious. I would like to say to the citizen that rented the old house of my Master in Olni Var…I don’t like what you have done with the place.
I was actually hoping that my Master would have changed his hair color, taken on a new caste and moved to Vonda. I would also have disguised my appearance. Moving to Vonda would have made it expeditious to poison the wells there and kill off the vermin who inhabit the city.
But, I am happy to be back in Port Olni. I am familiar with the market stalls and those who keep them. The proprietors were glad to see me back with my marketing basket. They give me free samples of their wares so I will stand by their places of business and attract men which brings in needed tarsks.
It is also easier to write my column in Port Olni. It is very quiet in Olni Var. One my first day back I was stopped by our sainted Ubara. She was carrying a scroll case loaded down with scrolls that had arrived for me while I was gone. They were from Gorean’s who had sent in questions for “ASK TEAL”. I must get to answering them.
There were a lot of things that have taken place though since my Master left. A few of them, architectural in nature. The first building I was greeted by is a new tavern that was erected by Buildem and Pray, the architectural firm that the Ubar and Ubara so often put into their employ. The tavern is a public building that is now worthy of the town of Olni.
The new tavern off the commons is akin to a four star restaurant on earth and probably would receive two stars in the Guide Michelin if it were an earth bound establishment. But as it is a Gorean tavern the men could care less if there was excrement on the floors. I, on the other hand, appreciate a well designed and sumptuously decorated space. The new tavern off the commons is now such a place. There is a full kitchen, tasteful art on the walls and a nice dance pit. The only disconcerting note inside the building was a low wooden table with bench seats. The wood used in its building appeared to have been taken from some weathered material in an outdoor picnic area. I overheard that the Ubara is having a lovely marble table constructed for the tavern which will soon replace the old one.
Another building I was glad to see reinstated was the male and female bath house. I think water had become precious in Olni at one point and the bath house was demolished. In its place was a rickety old building that one felt afraid to go into. There was no privacy for men or women and it languished for a time. Olni was starting to smell ripe since no one wanted to use the bath house. I took to swimming in the Olni River everyday. Now a bath house that is accessible in a garden setting. It is also far enough out of the city that loud late night parties will not disturb anyone.
While covering the new construction in Port Olni I have one sad note to report. It is the existence of a group of apartment cylinders in the Olni Var garden. I visited them briefly and felt immediately trapped inside their forbidding walls. I think we need to put the jail where the apartments are and replace the jail with the apartments. With a few deft touches the jail could become a sought after address and the cylinder apartments would function nicely as roomy jail cells.
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 161
PAGA, PAGA, PAGA ~ Festival in Sulport
Tuesday, May 13th, 2014
Picture: Oasis of Klima, Tahari desert
By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Sulport
PAGA, PAGA, PAGA ~ Festival in Sulport
This weekend, merrymaking was at its best in Sulport. I am still recovering from the copious bowls of paga my Master fed me. I try to stay away from paga drinking. It seems one bowl is enough to cause me to shed what little clothing I have on and dance on table tops. One could say slaves should be doing these actions on a daily basis, well the dancing on tables part at least.
Sulport was awash not only in paga barrels, but revelers of all types willing to quaff the brew that was offered in tents set up around the city. Sulport was built with the word “par-tay” in mind. To be sure the buildings are neoclassical in fabrication but the arrangement of broad stone set plazas that surround them offer perfect places to set up festive booths and rides. Sulport took on the air of an earth carnival.
I was taken by my Master to one plaza that contained many venues. The first that attracted my attention was a kissing booth. I was quick to stand behind its counter and pucker up for the lips of my Master. I also looked around for any stray lips that wanted kissing but only free women were in the vicinity. After the smooching was over, he walked around to each tented and gaily decorated booth and examined them closely. I was especially taken with the candy booth. As luck would have it I was the recipient of a large honey candy which I commenced eating. Once my head is in candy, nothing much matters. A point that is well taken with my Master and he used the occasion of my zombie-like behavior to feed me the first of the paga bowls.
With my head reeling from the alcohol I continued to follow my Master around the fair. Our next stop was the snake charming basket. I looked in it to see an ugly ost. My Master picked up a flute and started playing and thumping the ground in front of the disgusting, wriggling, scaly thing. It popped its head out and started hissing at which point I backed off. I went to the revolving swings nearby and hopped on. Sucking on the candy was the only thing that saved me from displaying the contents of my stomach since the paga made me woozy and the action of the merry-go-round swings intensified the paga’s effect. After a while the feeling passed and my Master hopped on the swings also. He shoved his sandal up my butt from behind which caused us both to laugh.
Our next venue was the puppet show booth which was not manned at that moment. I called over to a kajira I have made acquaintance with by the name of Kayla. I was told she was going to put on a puppet show, which would have been highly amusing but, her Master, impatient with the slowness of the preparations, dragged her off so that he could swill from the flowing spigot of the paga barrel. This fact annoyed me but her Master got his comeuppance of a sort when he volunteered to be the dunkee in the dunk tank. I begged my Master to purchase me some projectiles to hurl at the bull’s eye target. He obliged me and I stood on the marker with stone in hand ready to pitch it at the destination which would cause Kayla’s Master to fall into the tank. The Priest-Kings were with me as I hit the mark on the first try and into the tank went Master Lorr Tren. I walked away smirking, satisfied that if I could not be privileged to see his girl’s puppet show, at least he was cold and wet because of my accurate throw.
After another ahn, my Master left to take a nap after he had downed a few bowls of paga himself. He bought me a honey pop and a nice piece of spiced and dried bosk meat. I was in tarsk heaven. Kneeling in the plaza, eating, and observing the free and slaves at their festivities was a pleasant pass time.
I was startled when a tarn and rider landed rather abruptly in the middle of this paga fest. The rider was hooded. His eyes scowling. He inquired about a dance competition that he was sure would be taking place at the Paga Festival. I informed him rather brightly that it would be starting in 2 ahn. A nearby slave got rather close to the tarn’s beak and was warned off by the cantankerous man who rode it. I was far enough away and called out to see if it would be permissible to throw a piece of candy to the tarn. The rider let fly a series of epithets which I countered with the supposition that he had arisen on the wrong side of the furs that morning.
Not wanting to be inhospitable, I asked him if it would not be more pleasant for him to come down off his high tarn and let me serve him paga and sweet meats while he was waiting for the dancers. This lead to further malevolent and inflammatory language from the tarnsman. He threatened in a loud voice to kill all the inhabitants of Sulport, raze the city, and bind all the slaves and sell them at auction in Port Kar. This ridiculous bellowing was heard by a free woman who was passing by. She demanded to know if the tarn rider was wanting to start a war.
Without warning the one man army atop the tarn instructed his bird to kill and devour me. I was alert for this one. After he called me a smart mouth slave I knew he was not to be cajoled in any way shape or form and arose to my feet and started backing away. It was a good thing I did. The tarn grazed my buttocks with it’s massive beak causing a nasty bruise. I ran for the apartments of my Master, the idiot on tarnback in pursuit. I reached safety and ventured out after a few ehn to see if he was still around. I glanced up to see if I could see the bird and noticed in the distance the tarn and its obnoxious rider sitting on the roof of the inn. They seemed to be awaiting the return of the prey, namely me.
I went back in and started cooking for my Master and vowed not to venture out for the rest of the day. My Master thought the bruise on my ass was from an overzealous paga drinker and I did not elaborate on its origins. Let sleeping sleens lie is a motto that has saved my bruised ass on many an occasion.
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 158
HOW GOREAN PHYSICIANS TREAT A SHOCK AND HALLUCINATIONS
Tuesday, April 29th, 2014
Lady Rose Khaos [Rose Harlow], head physician to the Port City of Olni
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: This new subspecies of the famous Cosian Wingfish (Parexocoetus brachypterus Cosinus) causes a kind of shock if it was prepared incorrectly: How do Gorean physicians treat a shock? What has to be done first?
Lady Rose Khaos: Well it all depends on the kind of shock. If it is mental then it is best to try to relax the patient and get them to relax, if it is more of a power surge through the body then it is best to just let them recover slowly and watch their vital signs. But I have found if it is a male who is in shock send in about five female slaves and let them have their joys with the man.
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: Symptoms and side effects of the poison of the fish are hallucinations and nightmares. What do mind healers do against that kind of illness?
Lady Rose Khaos: Well you know that is honestly a good question, most would probably use herbs and such or do a lobotomy on them as for me I would most likely turn them loose in a raid and let them defend a city.
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: Some symptoms of the hallucinates are similar to the effects of the frobicain injection. Mostly this takes the form of hysterical weeping, threats, demands for explanation, screaming and such. These symtoms have been found in the tavern of Vonda where they offered the red Cosian Wingfish and where several citizens of Vonda amd even a member of the black caste have eaten the fish. What do you recommend against that?
Lady Rose Khaos: Next time I would say have the bosk I have heard it is amazing with a nice aged paga and after that have a nice bowl of fruit and a good nap.
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 156
WHY A NEW SUBSPECIES OF THE COSIAN WINGFISH CAN CAUSE HALLUCINATIONS
Tuesday, April 29th, 2014
Zinkan Dewoitine, retired head physician of Melicerus
by Rarius Yuroki, editor of the NEW VOICE OF GOR and Verona Lorgsval, senior writer
Interview with Zinkan Dewoitine, one of the most famous physicians of Gor who has learned medicine with the great Pastorius himself
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: We gave you this strange red wingfish to examine. What did you find out?
Zinkan Dewoitine: First let me inform you what we did. We made a water chemistry analysis, a live exam with external tissue biopsies, a necropsy because all the red fish in the basket were dead, a bacteria identification, histology, virology and other tests. We all know that our beloved Gor knows some strange and very dangerous animals. I even heard rumors about a talking giant spider….
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: The fish, please?!
Zinkan Dewoitine: This is one of the most interesting creatures I have seen in my life, a new subspecies of the Cosian Wingfish which was unknown until your man has found it in the Olni River near Vonda. We named it Parexocoetus brachypterus Cosinus of the family Beloniformes, class Actinopterygii. We will add “Yurokiensis” perhaps (smiles). The normal Wingfish also known as songfish is blue, but this subspecies is red, it has only two tiny slender spines in its dorsal fin, which are very poisonous. Not only that: If the fish is not prepared properly, it causes several strange effects… We made some experiments to confirm that.
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: What kind of strange effects?
Zinkan Dewoitine: The person who has eaten the fish shows the symptoms of a shock for several hours: cool, pale arms and legs, very low temperature, little or no urine, palpitations, agitation, lethargy, or confusion, shortness of breath and skin rash or discoloration.
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: Some of our readers are simple minded. Would you please make this sophisticated scientific reports shorter?
Zinkan Dewoitine: The sick person suffers from hallucinations and nightmares for several days and a constricted field of view also known as “tunnel vision”.
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: Constricted field of view? What does that mean?
Zinkan Dewoitine: For example: Men think slaves are standing although they are kneeling and vice versa (4). The buildings of a town seem to be very squeezed although they are nicely built and so on. Symptoms of the poisoning are similar to the frobicain injection (5). Mostly this takes the form of hysterical weeping, threats, demands for explanation, screaming and such.
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: That is similar to the description of a drama..
Zinkan Dewoitine: The green caste of Gor needs to examine this new kind of fish very accurate: I have the suspicion that intrigues, bad behavior and hysteria in Gorean cities very often were caused by consuming the Parexocoetus brachypterus Cosinus. We did not know that before, a very interesting discovery in Saleria.
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: We have been told that his warrior from Olni who was laying on the ferry claimed to have killed citizens of Vonda and that the slave was catatonic?
Zinkan Dewoitine: The warriors was hallucinating for sure, a typical symptom of the sickness. But this slave…
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: The slave was dead?
Zinkan Dewoitine: Probably not, because the poison of the Parexocoetus brachypterus Cosinus decreases the blood circulation almost to zero for a while, a kind of temporarily hibernation. You could even survive a cut-throat of the knife or dagger was a small one and if you would find a Gorean physician very soon. The green caste of Gor is skilled somehow… (smiles)
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: What do you recommend to do first?
Zinkan Dewoitine (smiles): I recommend to whip the tavern (6) master in Vonda who bought the fish and did not prepare it properly. The tavern needs to be cleaned and perhaps disinfected. The people who have been there too…
THE NEW VOICE OF GOR: Thank you for the interview, Physician.
(4) [2014/04/17 21:36] Colton -Alexzander- Dark (Khampoh Resident): would look at the slave, then to the woman “since she looks to be with you, why dont you have her kneel Lady Ashtin, she seems to be drooling, I will fix that for her” then looking at the beast “kneel girl, before I forget I am a kind old man”
[2014/04/17 21:37] Teal Razor: ~sucks the crumbs off her fingers….Yes, Master…Straightway….
[2014/04/17 21:37] Teal Razor: Sits up to await orders….like a good soldier should…..
[2014/04/17 21:39] Ashtin (Ashtin Oanomochi): seeing movement from the corner of an eye.. She turns to look upon teal fully. Notes that the girl is in towering. Shoots an awkward expression toward Colton “Killer, the girl is kneeling. ”
[2014/04/17 21:39] Teal Razor: ~continues to gaze around at the beauty that is Vonda but smells the paga in the satchel and drifts off in a reverie….
[2014/04/17 21:40] Colton -Alexzander- Dark (Khampoh Resident): would look at the vase, eyeing the girl’s head and the opening of the vases, choosing the middle size “you going to kneel, or besides being a wise ass you are also ignoring me?” my eyes on the slave as I move to her and place the vase on her head “until you are in the city, so you do not drool all over you will wear this” then I would say to the woman with her “I wish you well Lady Ashtin, you should find yourself a better slave to travel with”
[2014/04/17 21:41] Teal Razor: Mistress…do you wish that I wear this chapeau? Hears her own voice echoing in the vase.
(5) “They seem very quiet,” I observed.’We permit them,” said Flaminius, deigning to offer a bit of explanation, “five Ahn of varied responses, depending on when they recover from the frobicain injection. Mostly this takes the form of hysterical weeping, threats, demands for explanation, screaming and such. They will also be allowed to express their distress for certain periods at stated times in the future.”
(Assassin of Gor)
(6) [2014/04/17 20:46] Teal Razor: Mistress, the Master said there is plenty of food and drink for weary traveler’s here. Shall we sit?
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 156