Archive for the ‘Tancred’s Landing’ Category
TRIAL AND ERROR
Saturday, November 1st, 2014
Picture: Docks of Tancred’s Landing – Disturbed Seagulls
TRIAL AND ERROR
By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Olni
Tuesday morning, the day after the conclusion of the trial of Olni vs. Lady Kipsley, I was trotting by the notice boards and saw this headline on a scroll posted for all to see….
TRIAL CONCLUDES – CITIZENS LIVID
I tried to search for the person’s name who wrote this, but I could not find a byline. I always put my slave name to a scroll that I hand Master Yuroki. There were times when I had been pelted with stones in the street for writing what some have perceived to be inflammatory words, but the show must go on. It appeared that the author of the scroll headline wanted to remain anonymous since, if the person who wrote this became known, they, too, would be pelted with stones in the street.
Well, it was a long trial. The second part of the testimony and questioning on Monday, started almost an ahn late. The magistrate was in the foulest of moods. He called for order but the attendees were all worked up about this trial and the buzz of voices kept threatening to drown out the testimony.
Lady Kipsley was the first on the stand. The magistrate Master Acciotheon called for the defense to resume the case to produce documents which proved that Lady Kipsley was no longer a slave, but a free woman with proper manumission papers. The defense did produce the scrolls but the courtroom went crazy and the trial goers screamed out that these scrolls had been faked. Now looking back on this, I can say that it might be very possible that this was done. If the trial had been held within one Gorean day, the defense would not have had time to find a corrupt scribe, pay them off, and have the manumission papers changed to suit the court. Obviously, the defense wanted to spare Lady Kipsley from the embarrassment of being collared over a technicality.
The grumpy magistrate, Master Acciotheon, read the scrolls despite the pleading of the prosecutor, Lady Celeste, that the question of the Lady’s date of manumission be taken up at the end of the trial.
The prosecution said that they had the manumitting Jarl available, if he was needed, to appear in the court to give credence to the papers. The Magistrate thought that everything looked in order and the prosecutor was given the chance to scan them. That is where the first commotion started. Master E was ascending the stairs of the library cylinder and when he reached the level where the witnesses were being sequestered and guarded by Master Isnala, Master “E” made a social gaff.
At first he asked the slave, Missy, to get him some water. He was out of breath and sweating because of the long climb up the stairs. It was his own fault, really. I mean everyone has been commenting on his growing middle section. He sits in the commons requesting pastries and black wine.
I digress. Master Isnala, a warrior, told Master “E” that the slave would not be getting anyone water as she was a witness at this trial. Master “E” then turned to the warrior and said to him, “Then YOU fetch me some water!” Those were fighting words to Master Isnala and he replied, “Excuse me, you piece of sleen filth. I am a witness also and I take no orders from any bloody scribe. I would just as soon cut your head off!”
The warrior drew his sword and had to be talked down by free men that were near so that there would be no bloodshed. An Initiate, Thelemenos, took great offense that swords were drawn in the presence of the Blessed Ones. Master “E” sheepishly lifted his cloak to reveal that he was sword-less, hoping that his life would be spared by a show of non violence. Master Isnala sheathed his weapon but not before letting some choice words hit the ears of Master “E”. In all actuality this was one of those paga fueled moments. Master Isnala had been quaffing the potent drink from his personal flask, so that when Master “E” arrived, his face was flushed and he reeked of alcohol. These two were ripe for a confrontation and a confrontation it was. The Magistrate was fuming and his shouts could be heard on the floor below. The crisis was averted but not before a citizen from another city loudly blamed Master “E” of, causing his own public repugnance. The voice in the crowd yelled, “See, even his own people want him dead.” This statement was parroted throughout the courtroom and it quickly turned the tide against Master “E”.
Now it was time for the rest of the witnesses to take the stand one at a time. We had a very nice beating of the slave called Missy for her testimony. It was smartly administered by Master Dark. It was hard to tell who was enjoying it more, the beater, the beatee, or the crowd. I must say, for the sake of accuracy, the crowd was rather vocal in its reaction to the beating, which seemed brutal. I must also say the punishment was administered before her answer was given as is accorded by Merchant Law, or so I am told.
Well the slave accounted well for herself although I think she would have given the same answers under normal questioning. She told the truth and if there was a beating she had to go through, it was not unusual. Every Gorean thinks of slaves as animals; they are subject to all kinds of treatment, whether good or ill.
The questioning skills of the prosecutor were to be applauded. But the defense, Master Çassian Thalassa, was full of objections. I think it would be hard to be his slave as he appears to be a most difficult man. There was a lot said between the time in which the slave was beaten and the end of the testimony of Master “E”. I would feel remiss if I did not report to you that Master “E” was swilling liquid from a flask the whole time he was on the docket. I do not think the liquid had anything to do with the hydration of the one Master “E”.
After hours and hours of questioning we were given a 10 ehn recess to use the rest facilities. I just ran out into the street to relieve my bladder since all the “powder rooms” were full. We all went back to a rather momentous decision by the magistrate, Master Acciotheon. For the crime that Lady Kipsley had committed, the attack and attempted murder on the person of Master “E”, she was sentenced to DEATH!
This verdict caused fights to break out in the amphitheatre. One free man was knocked from the top tier by another. He came rolling by me as I politely moved out of the way.
I was really disgusted with the magistrate for using this pregnant pause to incite the crowd with this provocative verdict. After his shouts to come to order, which made his voice go hoarse, order was resumed. With a minimal amount of buzz from the crowd the magistrate then finished his reading of the verdict. He pronounced that the sentencing of Lady Kipsley would be commuted. Everyone in the amphitheatre went to fisticuffs. I even saw some free women slapping other free women.
This was not mildly amusing to anyone who was on the side of Master “E”. These supporters calmed down when the last part of the verdict was read. It is insufferable that the magistrate was toying with the court. I believe, though, that he was just getting back at everyone for keeping him so long in the first trial. He “bitched” loudly about his lack of sleep and how the trial was impinging on his social life and blah blah blah. Well I am glad he could have his little vengeance. It was lovely to witness.
The last part of the verdict was a proclamation by the magistrate that, the defendant, Lady Kipsley, was never to show herself in Port Olni again. He said, “Should she be found in Olni ever again, this sentence shall be carried out immediately and without further recourse.” I think that was pretty clear. I also think that it would be foolhardy of Mistress Kipsley to darken the gates of Port Olni ever again.
Now back to my crowd watching. I believe I mentioned that I was thinking of writing a little fashion column in this corner within the notes of the first trial.
Well, the trial venue was the perfect place to observe Gorean fashion. You have so many from different cities that you get a sense of trends in other places. Most of the modes of dress were pretty standard. There were a few finely sewn robes of concealment using colors most becoming to the wearer. Most of the free men were dressed in the colors and robes of their castes. I found little fault with the free men. But it seemed to me that the Masters or Mistresses of the majority of the slaves should have their fashion “goggles” readjusted.
It was distressing to see some of the cheap and shoddy work put into slave silks and dress camisks. A good tailor was needed by these beasts. Another sad note was the overuse of bina exhibited by a lot of the slaves.
For the most part the hairstyles were becoming but, I would need more room to explain how one person’s hairstyle appeared as though they were using the same salon as Master David Bowie. I will save that for a Gor version of the earth fashion magazine called Vogue. I think I will call it “Gorogue”.
Well to end this story of the trial, I will tell you that the prosecutor, Lady Celeste, wailed over the crowd, “We have let her go (to) slit some other unsuspecting man’s throat.” She then loudly proclaimed to anyone in earshot, “I will be appealing it.”
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 176
River Mouth
Saturday, July 26th, 2014
Pictures: Where the Olni river (Saleria) flows into the Vosk – near Tancred’s Landing, upper Vosk area
SHOCK SYMPTOMS AND THE UNKNOWN RED FISH
Tuesday, April 29th, 2014
Tancred’s Landing
by Rarius Yuroki, editor of the NEW VOICE OF GOR
As I was sorting through the scrolls which threatened to crash my desk, I heard the bell ringing. I stopped and walked to the balcony to see what was happening. Thick fog hovered over the dock and as I strained my eyes to peer through it I saw the messenger arrived from Olni delivering the scrolls written by that slave Teal, our correspondent in Olni.
But this time something was strange. When I enfolded the scrolls I could not even read some letters, they were scrawly and badly written. I found unknown words from an unknown language too as if the writer was suffering from a mental illness. This slave Teal who is the property of Siri Emerald Jr., a Captain of Olni Scarlet’s, is well known for her writing skills and elegant style. Something must have happened.
As I was in a hurry I did not read everything, but sent out a bunch of scrolls of the NEW VOICE OF GOR to be put on the message boards in the Village of Abydos, in the city port of Olni, in Tharna, in New Tancred’s Landing, in the library of Tampica Woods, in the city of Victoria, in the city of Vonda and in the Port of Alsium.
When I had the time I started to read the column “The Slave’s Corner” and was horrified: The slave was insulting the fine city of Vonda, described their honorable citizens as jerks and ended with “delenda est Vonda”. The NEW VOICE OF GOR apologies for that. That should never had happened.
I shook my head considering to send a mind healer (1) to examine that slave and interrogated the messenger to find out more about the circumstances. He told me: The slave Teal and her owner Siri were laying on the ferry between Olni and Vonda (2), showing all symptoms of a shock: rapid, shallow breathing, clammy skin, weak pulse, their eyes appeared to stare, bluish lips and fingernails. The slave did not response at all, her throat was cut somehow and full of blood, but she was still breathing. The warrior was rolling his eyes and stammering that he has killed several free women in Vonda.
The messenger had found the scrolls which were intended for the newspaper and a basket which seemed to belong to a tavern of Vonda. Inside this basket there were three fish which looked like Cosian Wing Fish (3). This Wing Fish a tiny blue salt-water fish with four poisonous spines on its dorsal fin; found in the waters off Port Kar; its liver is considered a delicacy in Turia. We all know that parts of the Cosian Wing Fish are poisonous. But the Wing Fish inside the basket were red, not blue.
The unknown red wingfish in the infirmary of Tancred’s Landing
The strange fish has been taken to the infirmary of Tancred’s Landing for further examinations. A messenger was send out to inform the famous physician Zinkan who lives near Laura. Zinkan came to Tancred’s Landing. The NEW VOICE OF GOR made an interview with him about the results of his examination of the fish. (see above)
(1) He was Iskander, said once to have been of Turia, the master of many medicines and one reputed to be knowledgeable in certain intricacies of the mind. (Slave Girl of Gor)
(2) Vonda was one of the four cities of the Salerian Confederation. The other cities of this confederation were Ti, Port Olni and Lara. All four of these cities lie on the Olni River, which is a tributary to the Vosk. (Fighting Slave of Gor)
(3) Near her, one night, lying off her shore, silently, I heard the mating whistles of the tiny, lovely Cosian wingfish. This is a small, delicate fish; it has three or four slender spines in its dorsal fin, which are poisonous. It is called the wingfish because it can, on its stiff pectoral fins, for short distances, glide through the air, usually in an attempt to flee small sea tharlarion, who are immune to the poison of the spines. It is also called a songfish, because, in their courtship rituals, males and females thrust their heads from the water, uttering a kind of whistle. Their livers are regarded as a delicacy.
(Raiders of Gor)
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 156
SPRING AND I AM ALIVE
Tuesday, April 1st, 2014
Picture: The harbour of Tancred’s Landing
Spring and I am alive
By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Port Olni Warrior
The time of En’Kara came in on a kur’s back and commenced to spawning a battalion of evil. One may say, “What’s got Teal’s panties in a wad?”
With all I have been through at the beginning of the Gorean New Year, I must look back and say how grateful I am. I am still here. I am able to once more serve my Master and all free. I am permitted to go on with my purpose in life. Back on earth there is an expression, “Into every life a little rain must fall.” The wording makes you think that travails are experiences that are nothing more than going outside on a warm summer’s day and being sprinkled by a passing shower. This cannot be further from the truth.
Platitudes have never been my cup of Bazi tea. I would prefer someone smile and nod and not utter a single word rather than pollute the air with the breath from their lungs with a banality. Before this escapes me, I must say that recently I have heard the most incredible words out of the mouths of citizens and slaves of Port Olni. It all has to do with my five weeks in the infirmary cylinder in my Master’s city.
I contracted what I thought to be the of Bazi plague. The Physicians of Olni, some of the finest healers around, noticed that there was a twist to this “so- called” Bazi plague that I appeared to have. I had very high fevers but no pustules (yuck!). I did have a yellowing of the whites of my eyes but the head physician chalked that one up to my paga drinking, which most have witnessed, sad to say.
I lay in fevers for six days in my Master’s home in Olni Var, before he decided to take me to the infirmary. When he delivered me into the capable hands of our smart physicians, he was chastised for not bringing me in sooner. I should have been the one verbally flogged since I was petrified to leave my Master’s side to be cooped up in the infirmary and begged him not to take me there.
My diagnosis at one point looked grim and I drifted in and out of hallucinations. Every time I opened my eyes I was greeted by my Master sitting by my bedside holding my hand. He told me of the free and slaves in Port Olni stopping by the infirmary to leave food, funny scrolls to read to me, and flowering plants that I might enjoy. In fact, when I came home to my Master’s house, the front veranda was awash with blooming plants that the concerned had left. No, these were not platitudes that I received; they were positive and loving thoughts being expressed in my direction. Pretty heady stuff for me since I am only a slave and do not deserve anything.
My only regret is that I can’t properly thank each Gorean that sent positive thoughts and love my way. In the infirmary I kept drifting in and out of consciousness…things that were not there appeared real, and I began living in two worlds, reality and delusion. In this altered state I could not remember what was real and what wasn’t. I saw and talked to many in Port Olni, although I now realize there was no such meeting with anyone. But that was how I felt the unfeigned concern of good citizens and slaves.
It is quite nice that I now have my mind back, although my Master would debate you on that one, and I am pushing forward. I hope to serve you in the commons if you are free and I hope to help you serve and clean if you are a slave very soon.
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.4 Issue 151
TRAITORS, TRAITORS EVERYWHERE, AND NOT A ONE CAN THINK
Tuesday, February 18th, 2014
Pictures: The new ferry of Tancred’s Landing
Traitors, Traitors everywhere, and not a one can think
By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr, Port Olni Warrior
Distressing as it may be, there are traitors in every city and hamlet. There are free who would sooner spit on the Home Stone than honor it. It fills everyone with disgust to think that this would be possible and if it does not fill one with disgust, then one needs to reexamine his or her priorities.
All warriors, companions, Masters, Mistresses, and yes, even slaves need someone who has their back. This person is one you can depend on to sit with you, back to back, and have a 180 degree view of the battle field while you cover the other 180 degrees. Then in the war called life, you are less likely to suffer a sneak attack. They would both have each other’s back, or so one would think.
This past week I was the personal witness and recipient to a traitor and his ugly ways. The city of my Master’s Home Stone is a paragon of good taste, beautiful ladies, exquisite slaves, (except for you Tilapia, you bitch) and brave handsome males of all castes. So it is with heavy heart that I must relate a most disgusting act by a warrior to his senior officer. If this act shook me to the core, I could see that it might make a grown man cry. My Master had the unfortunate bad luck to be captured by warriors from Sais. My Master departed Olni to help Turia against an attack from Sais. That Sais is a filthy outpost on the Vosk, a fly ridden, smelly heap of bosk dung, is really secondary to the lying thieving ways of their slaves.
But I digress…My Master was tied hand and foot and dragged down the unpaved streets of Sais to their jail which is little more than a pen for verr. Upon this straw covered floor he lay helpless while a couple of slaves from the city made rude comments about his manhood and robbed him of his coin purse. I have sent a scroll to the Initiate in Port Olni asking him, in the name of my Master, to send a blue flame their way. My Master was allowed to give one shout out for help and so a scribe was sent for and a scroll prepared for delivery to the warriors in Port Olni.
When the scroll arrived by messenger, a warrior at the gate opened it and wrote across my Master’s plea for help, “NO”. He handed the scroll back to the messenger. When my Master heard of the reply from this traitor to his caste, he was incredulous. He vowed that upon returning to Port Olni, heads were going to roll. I never want to contemplate my Master going to the City of Dust due to neglect from a brother in his caste.
Fortunately for my Master and me, a merchant named Hesius was at the gate and watched this whole disgraceful transaction take place. He immediately took off for the docks with his slave and sister who was visiting him at the time. He arrived in Sais a short time later, it being just down the Olni River on the Vosk. It is amazing to me how one small merchant was brave enough to face all the warriors of Sais. He had no weapon but his inventory. Makes me think of my Boss, the Rarius Yuroki, and how he can make cities bow low with just the mention of the delicacies he puts into his warehouses.
Well, Master Hesius Grey, cajoled the two dufus warriors who greeted him at the gate, with 2 barrels of mead and 2 of ale. They had demanded 5 slaves at first and it was fortunate that these dipsomaniacal members of their caste let a valuable warrior escape their clutches. If the sainted Ubar of Port Olni had caught wind of his capture, a protracted war with Sais would have been undertaken.
After this incident of the capture and release, my Master shrugged off the obscene act by a brother and was off again for escort duty for some ambassador or other from the city. I went to the commons to serve and hear the gossip. I was greeted by a persistent buzz about a warrior who had left Olni, seemingly in the dead of night, and went to Genesian Port to swear allegiance to THEIR Home Stone. This happens so infrequently in Olni, traitors spitting on the Home Stone, that free women were seen to weep while talking about this back-stabbing apostate in the commons.
I, on the other hand, love the idea of vengeance. I daydreamed of cutting off the head of this two-timing defector. I saw myself leading a battalion of warriors into Genesian Port, headed by the high magistrate and demanding they turn over this man who spit on the Home Stone. I felt my body shaking with righteous indignation picturing my laughter at his execution.
Shortly though, I was yelled at by a scribe to wake up because he wanted a hot drink. And so went my reverie. It is at times like this, I wish I was free and had money in my purse. Then there would be no question about hiring an assassin to push this ex-Olnian into the river chained to some large boulders. If I was the Ubar of a city, a silly thought really, I would deny that pond scum, access to bread, salt, and fire.
If I could, I would warn the good citizens of Genesian Port, of the double-crossing deceiver in their midst who most certainly will have no one’s back but his own.
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.3 Issue 144
Ask Teal – Dubious advice to Goreans
Saturday, February 1st, 2014
Picture: Warehouse and bank of the House of Yuroki Company, Tancred’s Landing, by night
By Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr, Port Olni Warrior
DEAR TEAL:
I am a female slave whose Master has just informed her that he is leaving on an extended trip. He did not mention taking me with. It appears that he will be gone from the middle of Se’Var to the beginning of En’Var. To be sure, I will miss him and ache for him every day that he is gone. I am new to this Master. He has not a free companion or children. I seem to be “it” for him. I feel concerned that he is going alone and hurt that I am not being taken with him. What should I do while he is away?
DEAR SEEMINGLY FORGOTTON:
I feel for your plight. That is a long time to be Masterless. Well, let’s think of a few ways you can fill in the ahns while alone.
Look around your Master’s abode. Hopefully you have access to merchants in the marketplace who extend credit to your Master. If you see an item that needs to be in place so that your Master can have an easier life, for instance a new jar of oil for the bathtub, a new cloak for him, a set of larl furs for the bedroom, silk pillows, new drinking vessels, then buy it. Shop with an eye toward beauty, functionality, and above all quality. You get the point. Start within the physical four walls and work inward.
The next spotlight should be cast upon your wardrobe. Are your silk’s skimpy enough? Is there enough see-through material in their making to cause a grown gorean man to cry? Are your anklet’s and bracelet’s as clean and polished as they can be? How is your hair? Maybe a trip to your favorite bathhouse and a consult with one of the ladies who serve in these miracles of ablutionary pleasure, will be time well spent. See if you need a cut or shaping. Take a look at your Master’s weapons that he has left behind. Put them all in a cart and haul them to the metal worker’s stall in the marketplace in your city. Tell him to hone them all to razor sharpness. If he does not understand that phrase, tell him you want them all to be able to cut a throat easily.
Now we have covered the realities of your coming abandonment and what you can do to make yourself useful. You could turn inward and examine your compliance with your slave paces. Start saying them fluidly and like you mean it, every third ahn of the day. Then go out and practice those paces on the free people in the commons area. Serve like your life depended on being pleasing. Sign up to help anyone who is asking for committee workers. Make yourself useful!
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.3 Issue 143
All is not quiet on the northern Front
Saturday, February 1st, 2014
Picture: The new headquarters of the NEW VOICE OF GOR, Tancred’s Landing
by Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Port Olni
This week I felt compelled to pen this observation. I will not reveal the name of my source. I will not reveal any information even close to sounding like a name. And, it is my fervent hope that the people who recognize themselves, in this story, take heed. They will be secure in the fact that I will never expose them. For in the end, we all eventually expose ourselves.
I must say that I always have a case of “the nerves” when I am needed for serving in the commons. It is not that I dislike serving, for I am commanded to serve all free by my Master, a most generous and kind Master. The fear of displeasing my Master though, by displeasing a free person is not a situation I care to experience. This guilt by proxy is unnerving to say the least. My Master’s sense of justice is swift and fueled only by his certain knowledge that a transgression has taken place. He is none to kind with the use of the lash at this point. So, on the whole, I would say, I will not, under any circumstances, cause a constipated look on my Master’s face. He will only have relief of his constipation when he beats the shit outta ME.
Well, that is neither here nor there. The fact is, there are many things I love about serving. One is the view you are afforded. It is a view that most never experience inside the city. Where else can you see the latest styles as worn by the free women and the new weapons purchased from the metal workshops around Gor.
If I may digress for a moment, it is inherent in me to ogle the swords and bows that men carry. I am spellbound by tales of weapons, combat and war. There are certain reasons for this but that is another story.
But, then again, I am just as fascinated by the rich materials that the beautiful free women use to adorn themselves. The fabrics and decoration are just as mesmerizing as the sharpened steel blades.
The commons is also a place where there is food cooking, fruits on display, casks of strong drink and bottles of sweet Turian wine. And, the prime mover for serving in the commons, the proximity to cake. It is here also, that a variety of Gorean life parades in an ever changing tableau of dialects, colors, customs, and personalities.
Everyone who is anyone comes through the gates of Port Olni. Only the riff raff, for example, Trevian raiders on tarns, fly down from the walls.
So the gates being in front of the commons offers you a changing view of Goreans in various modes of undress.
The commons is the hub of any city. Visitors bring news of other neighboring and faraway places they have traveled to. It is also an amusing place where the free and slave gossip and flirt. These stories make ripe telling when a Master is bored and commands you to entertain him.
I always strive to please the free. It is actually a win win situation. I please them, they feed me. Sometimes I get candy and cream cakes.
Now because the commons is the heart of the city and the cross roads of the town, it is fitting for this important place to have an air of quiet and professional dignity. Craftsmen, even now, are drawing up new plans for the transformation of this port city. I am told that broad plaza’s of stone and tile will be set down shortly.
I believe the architectural firm of Buildem and Pray has been engaged once more to edit and reedit the city’s monuments. They may be having problems choosing which edifices, built by past architects who have “bit the City of Dust”, to eradicate from the skyline.
It was within such a scene that I overheard the most flagrant disruption of the space time continuum as ever there was.
A merchant who does business trading in the northern forests was elaborating about his recent encounter with a panther tribe. He has done commerce with this tribe on his trade route and makes it into their lands about every six months. There is no wonder that he is not captured and made a thrall but his rotundity makes him ill equipped for waiting on a panther hand and foot.
The merchant was giving a warning to all present and even asked to have an audience with the Ubar and the Commander of Port Olni. He wanted one and all to hear of a warning he brought back from the north. It seems this panther tribe he deals with has gone rogue. Their members have become true man-haters. This misandry was spreading like a disease through the tribe. Former panthers who were mainly interested in honing their hunting skills and capturing hapless males who wandered past their borders, were now crying for blood. They were planning a full scale attack on a large city on the Olni River. Their plan was to kill as many men as they could and then capture the free women and slaves. Only the Priest-Kings would know what could ensue then.
As ludicrous as this sounds coming from the Falstaffian merchant, the man was unnerved enough to quaff his libation with a shaking hand. He told of a horrific scene he witnessed when two free persons were brought into the panther camp. The captured free man was assaulted by derision and stripped naked. His companion was tied and made to watch the disgusting display of misanthropic vengeance. After much abuse and punches to his genitalia, the man’s throat was cut. His companion looked on helpless. Her wails were heard all through the forest. The merchant, not having weapons or the authority to stop this, fled the scene.
It seems that there were just a few rotten apples in this panther camp that were causing the psyches of the others to whither and rot as theirs had. The merchant stopped in Olni to entreat the administration to send warriors and a magistrate to put down this dangerous uprising. He was begging anyone who would listen to help him arm himself and put together a battalion of free men and warriors to bring the murderous women to justice.
I was chilled to my core after hearing this and sat closer to a brazier to warm myself. When most of the commons cleared out except for a warrior and a slave who were feeling each other up in a corner, I ran home and waited for my Master’s return.
When the door opened I set about helping him remove his gear and when he was relaxed I related the story of the merchant in the commons. I could see the anger in his eyes. He told me if it was a true story, the warriors of Olni would wipe that tribe off the face of Gor. After saying this he put his heavy cloak on and took off for the Ubar’s office in the admin cylinder.
I smiled because I could feel safe in the knowledge that retribution would be swift. To sum it up for the poor panther’s who brought this on, “payback’s a bitch.”
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.3 Issue 140
Ask Teal – Dubious Advice to Goreans
Saturday, February 1st, 2014
Picture: New Tancred’s Landing
by Teal Razor, slave of Captain Siri Emerald Jr., Port Olni
DEAR TEAL:
I am a slave who has committed a blunder and I need to know how to come out of it smelling like a rose. It concerns my Master’s signet ring. This ring was passed down from his Great Grandfather, to his son, my Master’s grandfather and subsequently to my Master’s father, who, at one point in his life was held captive in Port Kar. He knew that if his captors in Port Kar found the ring, it would have been confiscated and melted down. The way his Father looked at it, this ring was his son’s birthright. He’d be damned if any pirates were gonna put their greasy hands on his boy’s birthright, so he hid it, in the one place he knew he could hide something: his ass. Five long years, he wore this signet ring up his ass. Then, before he died, he gave the signet ring to my Master.
I was playing with this ring and dropped it. An urt ran out and picked it up in its teeth and off he ran to I know not where. Help me.
DEAR CLUMSY OAF:
Your whole question smacks of another time and place. I am recalling a movie I saw on earth that had a segment in it that gave a similar recounting. It matters not that you know what a movie is, but just take it from me….this will not be easy to solve without using a grand set of prevarications.
When you think about it, the urt could have jumped up on the table and taken the ring just on principle. Since for every warm body on Gor, there exists at least two urts, the possibility of having an urt problem in one’s abode is very real. Your urts are rather bold to surface in the light of day.
What I am going to give you is a series of plausible lies that can be used to cover your own rear end. Yes, yes, I know that slaves should never lie and this one will not quite be a lie. You will just have to leave out the part of the story that set you in the middle and close the gaps.
How about you start crying profusely when your Master returns, telling him you were cleaning when an urt jumped up on the desk and ran off with the signet ring. This first scenario totally absolves you from blame and your Master’s wrath will be turned against the filthy, furry thief.
My second scenario includes you taking the ring to the local gemstone dealer for a good cleaning. This will give you time to set up traps inside and outside the house to try and catch the obnoxious creature. Of course, you have no ring to take to the jeweler so you will have to concoct a story of believable magnitude to prevent him from going off to the jeweler to reclaim his precious piece.
But let’s get back to the trapping of the disgusting filth that absconded with the ring in the first place. If you tell your Master and urt ate it or that you took it to the jeweler, it does not matter since either way you can still put out traps everywhere in the house further implicating the urt and covering your proverbial ass.
I would use as bait that smelly comestible known as bosk milk cheese. Urts are crazy about it and no doubt the ring itself was perceived to be a smelly treat by the urt since Master’s are not given to frequent hand washing. Hence their hands smell like moldy cheese. Once you catch the vermin, you will know what to do, namely deprive it of the life it almost cost you. The ring should be inside its intestines as I don’t think an urt’s anal opening is big enough to pass a ring of that size. It might be shrewd of you to enlist the help of another slave. Just make sure the other does not know of your ruse since they would be punished for your transgression also.
Good luck with the ring. If you find it, ask your Master to keep it firmly wedged in between his buttocks for safekeeping. Except if he is captured in Treve, the ring will definitely be discovered straightway.
From the NEW VOICE OF GOR v.3 Issue 139
Heavy Rain hits Tancred’s Landing
Sunday, October 27th, 2013
Impressions of Tancred’s Landing, Upper Vosk Region
Tuesday, October 22nd, 2013
