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Archive for October, 2012

We meet our own version of Verna in SL Gor…whats the difference? idk… let’s look at Verna from the books…..

Also this mont is breast cancer awareness month :

In 2009, National Breast Cancer Awareness Month (NBCAM) celebrated its 25th anniversary. Since its inception, NBCAM has been at the forefront of promoting awareness of breast cancer issues and has evolved along with the national dialogue on breast cancer. Today, NBCAM recognizes that although many great strides have been made in breast cancer awareness and treatment, there remains much to be accomplished. As NBCAM celebrates its 25th anniversary, they remain dedicated to educating and empowering women to take charge of their own breast health by practicing regular self-breast exams to identify any changes, scheduling regular visits and annual mammograms with their healthcare provider, adhering to prescribed treatment and knowing the facts about recurrence.

The third Friday in October each year is National Mammography Day, first proclaimed by President Clinton in 1993. On this day, or throughout the month, women are encouraged to make a mammography appointment. In 2012, National Mammography Day will be celebrated on October 19.

 

Marli stood on her familiar hill just outside the swamps. She stood , overlooking the marshes , the wind catching her silken red hair. Her feline sun tanned body gleaming as some sweat pearls ran down her back.  She gripped her bow tightly as she heard foot steps approach. Marli keeps up her  guard  when “Verna” approaches

[06:36]  νєяиα: Tallies

[06:36]  Kimbberley: Tal

[06:37]  Marli: Tal

[06:37]  νєяиα giggles raise her neck peeking behind”who are you?

[06:38]  Marli folds her arms , she looks the red headed panther over from head to toe , taking note of the drawn bow “I am Marli ……and who might you be?”

[06:38]  Zen Bow Draw [Gen3] v3.00: Range: normal, delay 0.80s, arc 40. Dynamic OFF. Speed: 60m/s. Aim offset 0.30. Forward aim 0.60. Hit report: full splash. Autofire OFF.

[06:39]  νєяиα leans her head move a bit closer”my name is Verna also called Shedevil”chuckles as she seeing her draw her bow..”heyyy..dont need to do

[06:41]  Marli nods slowly ” well , she devil, its protocol that if a bow is drawn the opposite party will also draw their bow , so you may sheathe it now ”

[06:42]  νєяиα shake her head frantically blow air out her cheeks”pfftt…i was drawing before and if i would shoot i did already, then dont be worry about my bow”move closer further..”but..you may have a paga?

[06:44]  Kimbberley: hers the conversation.wonders why she not sheate her bow..but leave it up to the huntresses..

[06:45]  Marli points her bow towards siba in the south west “unless you have something to trade for the paga …..if not then i suggest you head to the tavern in siba ” , Marli stood her ground and peered deeply into the womans eyes

[06:47]  νєяиα  wrinkes her nose”i seem look one for the tavern maybe?”stares at her wide her eyes in a teasing way”im here for stolen the paga and not for trade, then you should be wise to give me one barrel and i go to my own way

[06:50]  Marli laughs loudly “I dont care how you look like , whether you frequent a tavern or not doesnt interest me ” she snorts “well, follow me into the swamps and I will see if I have some paga for you” Marli started grinning broadly

[06:51]  νєяиα: swamps..which swamps?”looking around”and why i should follow you..why i should trust of you..nahhh….you should yell to your girls and make bring a barrel here

[06:53]  Marli shrugs “no , you want a barrel , you can fetch it for yourself ” she tilted her head “trust ? for all you know I could have a slave bring you poisoned paga ”

[06:55]  νєяиα: this is true but…”she grinned..”maybe should be your slave to taste the paga, as im used to do…but..ok….lead the way i would trust of you

[06:55]  Marli wrinkled her nose “allright, follow me ”

[06:55]  νєяиα nods

[07:02]  Sound of water splashes in the distance as someone or something approaches

[07:04]  Marli points at the barrels “help yourself ” she smirks

[07:04]  νєяиα: this one?”point at her own left

[07:04]  Kayleewinters: sees here sister with the other panther in the camp “Tal Huntress” some how see looks fermiliar

[07:05]  νєяиα: Tal huntrees”offer a briefly smile as she think to recal something about her face

[07:05]  εɗεη : buries her face in your hair, feeling helpless to her own desire. her body begins to slowly move with your hand, with no concern or knowledge of who may be near. hearing voices she just closes her eyes and tries to gage what you want of her.

[07:05]  Marli: “this one is verna , she likes paga like our feathers , she can have one barrel if she can manage to take it out from our swamps ”

[07:05]  νєяиα: are heavy?

[07:06]  Marli: “of course , if she fails to do that , then she will have to pay with the collar” Marli nods “they are heavy ”

[07:06]  Kayleewinters: nods slowly

[07:06]  νєяиα: let me checking”steps close the barrel

[07:07]  νєяиα: well…i have a idea for make less heavy

[07:07]  Marli: “you can drink the contents and get drunk” Marli suggested

[07:07]  νєяиα: indeed is my idea

[07:08]  Kayleewinters: hehe

[07:08]  Marli grinned , a drunk huntress was easier to capture

[07:08]  νєяиα: but i prefere carry mah..usually they said i have a sharpend aim when im drunken

[07:09]  Marli smiles “oh really? you have the same DNA as my daughter , her aim gets better the more she drinks ”

[07:09]  Kimbberley: ppffff sorry

[07:09]  Kayleewinters: laughs loud

[07:09]  Marli: Tal kim, glad you could make it

[07:10]  νєяиα: uhh you need introduced me her then..who are she?”blink at the marlies words

[07:10]  Meri turns her head up to gaze over at the others smiled and continued what she was doing she breaths in your fresh scent and with her free hand yanks down your camisk pinching your xxx and her hand between your legs moves in rythm with your moving hips

[07:10]  Kayleewinters: chuckels

[07:10]  Kimbberley: tal..ehh ..sorry did not get your name yet

[07:11]  Marli: Kay meet Kim , she joins us today

[07:12]  Kayleewinters: looks over to Kim, i’m called Kay nice to meet you

[07:12]  νєяиα taken a ropes from her belt she cut in some parts and wrapping securely around barrel, thenlay down the barrel and using another ropes hold with hand tryes to carry away make rolling…”well…i think i should go now

[07:13]  Kimbberley: Tal Kay nice to meet you to I am Kim

[07:14]  Marli grins “Remember , if you fail to leave with the barrel , the cost is a collar around your neck……..so good luck with that verna

[07:14]  Kayleewinters: grins “lets make allready a choice what kind off collar that will be”

[07:14]  νєяиα: well…i dont have a hurry…just dont shoot to my ass and i will complete this..tarsk

[07:14]  Marli: hehe

Verna , nice try , we found the full paga barrel half way down the swamps and no sign of you anywhere

The tall girl, the blond girl, their leader, called Verna, lithe in the skins of forest panthers, in her golden ornaments, with her spear, strode to where Lana lay on the grass, on her side, bound and gagged.
. . .
Some of the girls were rifling in the wagons, gathering food, coins and drink, cloth, knives, whatever they wished. They were now ready to depart.
. . .
My camisk was cut from me. I stood as only a bound slave among them.
“Burn the camisk and binding fiber,” said Verna.
I watched the garment and fiber thrown on the flames. It would not be used to give my scent to domesticated sleen, trained to hunt slaves.
. . .
“I am Verna,” she told them, “a Panther Girl, of the High Forests. I enslave men, when it pleases me. When I tire of them I sell them.” She walked back and forth before them. “You are tarsks and beasts,” she told them. “We despise you,” she said. “We have outwitted you, and captured you.
We have bound you. If we wished, we would take you into the forests and teach you what it is to be a slave!” As she spoke she jabbed at them with her spear, and a stain of blood was brought through the fabric of more than one tunic. “Men!” laughed Verna, contemptuously, and turned away from them.
I saw them struggle, but they could not free themselves. They had been bound by Panther Girls.
Then Verna was standing before me. She appraised me, as might have a slaver.
“Kajira,” she said, contemptuously.
I shook my head, No!
Without looking back she then strode, spear in hand, from the camp, toward the dark forests in the distance.
Her girls followed her, leaving the fire, and the bound men, and Ute and Lana, whom they had tied at the feet of two of the guards.
Captive of Gor Book 7 Pages 119 – 120

The girls moved swiftly, single file, through the brush and small trees at the edge of the forest. I could feel leaves and twigs beneath my feet. They stopped only long enough to lift aside some branches and take up the light spears, and bows and arrows, which they had hidden there. Each girl wore, too, at her waist, a sheathed sleen knife.
The tall, blond girl, Verna, beautiful and superb, led the file, her bow and a quiver of arrows now on her back, her spear in hand. Sometimes she would stop to listen, or lift her head, as though testing the air, but then she would resume her journey.
Captive of Gor Book 7 Page 122

She was magnificent. She might have been bred from pleasure slaves and she-panthers. She was sinuous and arrogant, desirable, dangerous, feline. I had little doubt that she was swift of mind. She was surely proud and haughty. She was lithe. She was perhaps two inched taller than the average Gorean woman, and yet, due to the perfections of her proportions, as vigorous and stunning as a girl bred deliberately in the slave pens for such qualities.” Panther girls are arrogant. They live by themselves in the northern forests, by hunting, and slaving and outlawry. They have little respect for anyone, or anything, saving themselves and, undeniably, the beasts they hunt, the tawny forest panthers, the swift, sinuous sleen.
~ Hunters of Gor

 

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The Luna Caleeng is a proud and independant tribe. Though because of the constraints of SL Gor some concessions have to be made. We have a peace (friendship) agreement with the Di Jan as we share the same lands. We have trading agreements with the Zima and Toki to stimulate trading roleplay.  We have a rescue alliance with the Forest Moon and Sa Sareem when a tribe has insufficient numbers of panthers online to mount a rescue raid.  Note that we do not aid the Forest Moon or Sa Sareem with rescue raids on the Di Jan.

Peace agreement between Luna Jerag and Di’Jan Lina

This agreement is that on a normal day by day basis there is NO inter-sim fighting. However luna Jerag and Dijan Lina have had good and fun RP between the groups in the past so these following exceptions are allowed in hopes we can continue rp together and give individuals the opportunity to continue roleplay

1. Every week or other week there can be a 1 time raid to generate RP between the groups.. Once losing side is down and bound, winner takes captives for capture rp and losing side must wait for the hour before trading or attempting rescue.. If rescue is made only to free the captives NO caps taken on rescue try again next week…     a. Lets see if we can be creative in trades we can do rolepay trades not trading for GM goods… could benefit both     b. No need for rough and tough rp… be fun about it start a storyline give reasons for future roleplays. Our tribes have had great  times in the past roleplaying so i know this will work and be fun

2. Other exception is, if you want person rp with one of the other group. however if u seek to rp with someone that is your choice and do so as an individual not apart of your tribe.  We live in a close sim but in reality would be miles apart…  If u seek this let your group know you want to rp with the individual and for how long u agreed.. No rescues for this option as you and the other party chose to enter this capture rp. I hope this works because i already know there are a few that wish to rp with one or another beyong the weekly or everyother week raid

3. Large merc, outlaw, pirate type groups are a threat to both tribes. Therefore, if one tribe is being raided by a large male group, they may sound a horn to call for aid. The other tribe promises to come to the aid of the beseiged tribe to the best of their ability. NOTE: only come if the horn is sounded. This agreement only applies to male groups, not raids by other panthers or talunas.

*This agreement now applies to the Luna Caleeng*

This documentation hearby expresses the intent and understanding of truce between the Toki Ak’am of Tarascon and the Luna Jerag of Terra De Luna.

Witness to this agreement is Cyn of the Toki tribe and  of the Luna Jerag.

It is within this truce that a cease fire is deemed appropriate to maintain peace among our groups. Within this truce, there is to be no assistance given to peoples that oppose either group by part of the agreed said parties. If asked upon to help in a negotiation with a third party each group will try to assist if possible. In addition to cease fire, safe travels in both lands are agreed upon at no risk of hostile actions from either group. When visiting each other’s camps, protection is to be afforded while inside  and if possible from the ship to the camp (Depending on the number of members available to help protect from the ship).

When travel requires a close passage to the other’s camp a shouted warning of passage is required. Hunting on the other Group’s lands is not accepted.   The Toki Ak’am will not lend any assistance to any allies choosing to raid the Luna Jerag. Neither will the Luna Jerag lend assistance to any allies choosing to raid Toki Aka’am.

The truce is meant to create peace so that trading can take place. Trades will be done in Gorean tradition and fair pricing.

There can be room for joint hunts, and joint practices to improve the defenses of the campements.

in agreement of the conditions of this truce and showing it to be a valid document, it shall be honored until such time as a change of Leaders occurs in either group, then may be renegotiated. Both parties being held accountable for it execution signing below:

En’s of the Toki Aka’am Cyn Ansar Piffle Stoop

*This agreement now applies to the Luna Caleeng*

Luna Caleeng and Zima Ak’am Tribes end hostilities

(6 July 2012) Ambassador for the Zima Ak’am, bambi has negotiated with the En’s of each tribe an agreement that each tribe will respect each other even though there is no alliance between the tribes. The truce is meant to create peace so that trading can take place. Trades will be done in Gorean tradition and fair pricing.~ends~

Luna Caleeng and Forest Moon Panthers and Sa Sareem Panthers make a verbal agreement on rescue alliance

The En’s of each tribe make a verbal agreement that each tribe will respect each other and to aid each other when a tribe has insufficient numbers of panthers to mount a rescue raid. The exception being a rescue raid on the Di Jan, see earlier treaty with the Di Jan ~ends~

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We take a look at the role of a she urt,  homeless free girls – runaways, vagabonds, orphans, etc. …..so it reminded me of sleepovers when I was a kid…..I know I’m nuts ….lol…. I don’t know, like at that age when I was a young teen …we would  just joke around….like i’d slap my best friends butt but I wouldnt feel up her shirt. ew. thats not how we would act! We would  usually do each other’s nails talk  about other girls and how they were s.l.u.t.t.y or we would listen to music and dance around wildly. sneak out….hey, kinda similar to panther life in SL gor…lol

Marli held her spear, she lowered it slowly as the stranger approached. She looked the stranger over, she would look good in a collar , Marli mused to herself .  She had a collar , Marli had a spear. That was the difference between her and this other women, her blood was that of a panther girl ……….A She Urt is found wandering near the swamps of Lake Ias….

[09:46]  Marli looks curiously at the woman “tal”
[09:46]  avril tylman glances over towards the  Huntress
[09:46]  avril tylman: tal Huntress
[09:47]  avril tylman: this is your home, Huntress?
[09:48]  Marli notices the right exposed nipple , she frowns at that , then looks the woman straight in the face “Aye , these are the lands of the Luna caleeng and the Di jan tribes ”
[09:49]  avril tylman attempts to cover up her exposed nipple with her ragged clothes, with no success, “i am hungry Huntress, is there food available nearby?”
[09:51]  Marli folds her arms and heard the request , she then points at the bog behind the woman “you will find snakes and toads there to catch and eat , but…….avoid the red toads …they are poisonous”
[[09:53]  avril tylman looks behind herself at the bog, then back to the huntress…”I am not a wild hunter, like so many around here, but rather a beggar, for I have no other skills”
[09:56]  Marli lifted an eyebrow , Marli was an experienced huntress , she assumed catching something as small as a toad would be easy for this woman, she had noticed the lack of weapons , she could use her bare hands “beggar? then you should try the villages , panther forests are no place for wandering beggars”
[09:57]  avril tylman assumes this panther is quite capable at catching wild animals…”perhaps you, Huntress, could catch something for me and cook it over a fire…then I would be happy to take it off your hands”
[09:59]  Marli shakes her head “…..i get a reputation of being soft if i start catching wild animals for strangers ” she looked in her pouch for a bonta fruit and gave it to the woman
[10:01]  avril tylman quickly grabs the fruit handout from the panther and stuffs it in her mouth, chewing on it messily as she speaks, “thank you huntress, this is good but not very filling”
[10:02]  A flock of confused vulo shouts: moooooo! and flap their wings
[10:02]  Tiger quietly slips up smiling beside the two women
[10:03]  avril tylman glances at the other huntress as she chews on the fruit, a dribble running down her chin and dripping on the ground
[10:04]  Tiger: Tal *smiles* watching the action in the field and smiling
[10:04]  Marli nods at the panther , she chuckles as she watched the beggar eat the bonta fruit
[10:05]  Martina smiles as finally caught her black wine … she followed all the time the mug carried by the girl orienting by strong aroma
[10:05]  Soraya turning towards the Mistress Martina and moving her firm naked form in her direction, her hips rolling in a passionate rhythm, swaying in the soft breeze she creates, she smiles and kneels before her Mistress she is serving and parts her smooth thighs and arches her back. pausing for three loving beats as she whispers good wishes to this Mistress, raising it up to her tender lips, pressing soft butterfly kisses all around the rim, Soraya lifts the blackwine high above her head and lowers her deep blue eyes in submission. “Mistress this slave brings you hot blackwine in hopes you find the drink and this girl pleasing. Ohhh and to keep you alert to fend off the bad people who may want to capture little ole soraya.”
[10:05]  avril tylman looks at the other panthers as she continues to chew, “surely someone here has some good food for my belly…other than toads”
[10:08]  Argent Ansome: walks up carefully carring two mugs of wine .. her mistress
[10:08]  Argent Ansome: walks over finds the soft grass and kneels
[10:08]  Martina breathes again watching the girl lifting the mug and kissing the rim with devotion, she taps with her foot and she takes the mug from girl’s fingers slightly and carries the mug at her lips taking first tasteful sip, she feels all her veloms opening and her blood racing in blood vessels “well done lil one”
[10:09]  Soraya grins at pleasing this Mistress and kneels close to her foot … her furry furry boot .
[10:10]  Marli knew the di jan wouldnt allow hunting of large game on their lands , same as the Luna , though Marli would allow the woman to catch small prey as toads and small field urts
[10:10]  Martina smiles and takes another sip of the black wine
[10:11]  Martina continues to drink and caresses girl’s hair
[10:12]  Argent Ansome: tal miss prettiest blond en
[10:12]  Soraya leans into the Mistress’ hand she also catches her breath and has a chance to scritch the inside of her thigh where she finds a mosquito bite or something . Going nuts with it she scritches it hard making it redder and then stops herself .
[10:13]  Soraya smiles embarassed hoping she did not disturb this serious discussion.
[10:14]  avril tylman watches the silly slaves, thinking she’s much better off as a free beggar and thief…”perhaps one of your slaves can catch and cook some toads for me, huntress”
[10:15]  Argent Ansome: scrunces her nose at the thoufght of cooking a toad .. or rather cooking at all .
[10:18]  Soraya: ((hee hee black wine ? i thought you meant wine with opium””
[10:18]  Argent Ansome: yes mistress i have a girl in mind to help the huntress .. looks at soraya
[10:19]  Soraya slowly retreats back “ummm I will go see what is wrong with Mistress Tiger”
[10:19]  Argent Ansome: girl go catch andd cook a frog for this hungry huntress …
[10:19]  Argent Ansome: whispers shes a little slow
[10:19]  A flock of LASY vulo shouts: ‘squawk’ feebly, and then resume their nap
[10:20]  A flock of LASY vulo shouts: ‘squawk’ feebly, and then resume their nap
[10:21]  avril tylman giggles at being called a huntress, but doesn’t attempt to correct the slave
[10:22]  Marli gently caresses argents hair
[10:23]  Argent Ansome: smiles sweetly at the wannten caress .. having always lover her fellow en
[10:23]  avril tylman: “the slave’s bells are so pretty sounding….I wonder if they can be sold for coin”
[10:24]  Argent Ansome: looks down at her bells ,, hopping to keep them

she-urts:
(noun; short for ‘she-urts of the wharves’) homeless free girls – runaways, vagabonds, orphans, etc. – who live near the canals in port cities, surviving by scavenging, begging, stealing, and sleeping with paga attendants; they sleep wherever they find space, and usually wear a brief tunic instead of Robes of Concealment

It takes a very special, flexible individual to want to take on this role at all. There will be times you will be looked down on. (Actually, this will happen, allot.) You are still 1000 times higher then a slave. You are legally a Free Woman. Do not forget that. In these pages I will also cover some of the Gorean Laws you will come across that pertain to you and your freedom. Yet always remember, too, that Gor is a Man’s World. What is done is by their will.

She Urts travel in Gangs. Remember this. They are territorial. Each gang taking a partion of Alleys. This does not mean there’s war with each gang, tho. She Urts compete for the choice prospects of food. The best paga taverns to pick through trash are desired. There’s no power struggles between two seperate groups. If one invades the other’s territory they simply chase the competiter away. Strays have no skills. No special lock-picking, thieving, fighting stealth skills. They are simply homeless Free Women surviving on the streets.

It should be noted that weapons, if the she-urt carried them at all would have been most likely a rusty dagger or a sling. They traveled in small packs, providing mutual protection and companionship for each other. They are territorial. Each gang, normally between 4 – 7 woman taking a portion of alleys and back streets. She-urts compete for the choice prospects of food and the best paga taverns to pick through trash are desired. There are no power struggles between two separate groups. If one invades the other’s territory, then the competitor is simply chased away. She-urts are strays having no special skills. They are simply homeless Free Woman.

Stealing is a dangerous occupation, particularly for the she-urt. She will not have the weapons or the skills to attack a Gorean male, so she will either have to team up with a man to do such…or more likely simply try to pick the pouch of an unwary passerby or steal some food where she can. A half eaten loaf of bread from a sleeping sailor or a tunic off a laundry line. A collar or worse awaits the she-urt every time she steals, so stealing smaller things carries a lesser risk.

Being without caste, the she-urt has to relay on the charity of the Free. Goreans do not generally favor begging, and some regard it as an insult that there should be such, an insult to them and their city. When charity is in order, as when a man cannot work or a woman is alone, usually such is arranged through the caste organization, but sometimes through the clan, which is not specifically caste oriented but depends on ties of blood through the fifth degree. If one, of course, finds oneself in effect without caste or clan, [their life] is likely to be miserable and not of great length.

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We take a look at the role of Free Women in SL Gor. Psst… almost every snobbish Free Woman has an irritating speech…lol….kk….on a more serious note…the Free Women , am I the only one that associates them with moslima’s ?  like did  Geert Wilders talk with John Norman over the phone and say….Hey John, in your next novel write about the veils dude…..If you feel that a Muslim woman is oppressed by covering her head, the face veil can only seem like a still greater oppression. I personally do not find veiling to be oppressive in and of itself. The oppression comes when women have no choice in the matter ❤

“But how contemptuous, and how regal, they had appeared, and so beautifully robed and veiled! Many, I was told, wore platforms of a sort on their feet, perhaps as much as eight to ten inches high, which would increase their apparent height, and, of course,protect their slippers from being soiled, for example, in the muddy streets.”
-Witness of Gor –

The village was dangerous ; she had to be prepared for anything here.  There was no protection for anyone regardless of status, caste or home. Everyone is subject to capture. Marli knew the dangers of travelling to a village, yet she heard of an interesting tale of a free woman. Disguised as a villager she travels via boat to the  village  to witness the trial of this free woman.

[12:50]  Tabby: greetings Mistress

[12:50]  Lady Tamarra: girl, I have come for the trial, can yu show me the way?

[12:51]  Tabby: yes Mistress, of course. may this girl lead the way?

[12:51]  Tabby smiles at her sissy

[12:52]  Tabby: if Mistress would please follow this girl

[12:52]  Lady Tamarra: lead on

Marli leaves the dock , disguised as a free woman , yet the locals can tell she is a panther ?

[12:55]  Tabby: greetings Huntress

[12:55]  Marli inspects the kajira “greetings ”

[12:56]  Tabby: is Huntress here for the trial?

[12:57]  Marli blinks , though now she was curious , she stepped closer to the girl slave “Mhm……and what trial would that be ?”

[12:58]  Tabby: the trial about, hmmmm, who gets the baby and if Mistress Tammy will remain Free or not, Huntress

[12:59]  Marli was disguised, it had been some time she had entered a village , allways apprehensive of the strange customs that governed the daily lives of villagers “I see …..and a disguised panther would be allowed to watch the trial and then be allowed to leave ?”

[13:00]  Tabby: tabby is only a girl and was ordered to bring anyone who wants to be at the trial to the magistrates office, Huntress

[13:01]  Marli rubbed her chin “show me where it is , this place where the trial takes place , perhaps I will choose to listen from outside ”

[13:02]  Tabby: if Huntress would please follow this girl ~ smiles and is relieved that she doesn’t have to answer any more questions

[13:03]  Sahiela Lavendel goes back to reading

[13:03]  Tabby: this is the building Huntress

[13:03]  Tabby: tabby needs to go in now ~ smiles

[13:04]  Marli nods says nothing , then waves to the girl to leave

[13:04]  Sahiela Lavendel looks up and smiles a polite smile under her veils

[13:05]  Sahiela Lavendel: seems we have a nice private session for this case

[13:05]  Lady Tammy waits, the silnce making her nervous

[13:05]  Lady Somera Sands nods

[13:05]  Sahiela Lavendel: Okay, before I begin this session *stares at tammy* I have to make one thing clear

[13:06]  Sahiela Lavendel: Normally, I would have wanted this case be brought before the lower court

[13:06]  Sahiela Lavendel: alas, that did not happen

[13:07]  Sahiela Lavendel: since I am here, Regent of Tharna, this case is allocated to the High Court, as if in the presence of the tatrix herself

[13:07]  Sahiela Lavendel: there is no appeal, the senntencing can be far greater than the lower court

[13:08]  Sahiela Lavendel stares at tammy, then looks to the others

[13:08]  Lady Tammy swallows, getting more nervous

[13:08]  Sahiela Lavendel: each person will be given a time to state theeir case

[13:09]  Sahiela Lavendel: rebutals may be offered

[13:09]  Sahiela Lavendel: then the court decides

[13:09]  Lady Tamarra simply nods, used to a strong system with harsh rulers in her home of Vonda.

[13:09]  Sahiela Lavendel: judgement is immediate

[13:09]  Sahiela Lavendel: and no plea allowed

[13:10]  Sahiela Lavendel looks down at the papers

[13:10]  Sahiela Lavendel: Tammy, various charges have been brought against you

[13:11]  Sahiela Lavendel: mentally unable to tend your child properly

[13:11]  Sahiela Lavendel: various warrants for your arrest

[13:12]  Sahiela Lavendel: a claim of ownership

[13:12]  Sahiela Lavendel: some of these warrants given over to us by other cities include the death sentence

[13:13]  Sahiela Lavendel: debts owned and not paid

[13:13]  Sahiela Lavendel: not a short list

[13:14]  Sahiela Lavendel: in each case tammy, state your plea, and your reason

[13:14]  Sahiela Lavendel: you have the floor to speak

[13:14]  Deke(ripped) slips in quietly and sits down in the back to observe

[13:16]  Sahiela Lavendel tips head to side waiting

[13:16]  Lady Tammy: Thank you Lady Regent. To the first charge, vagrancy. I was instructed to remain in infirmary after the birth of my child and not to leave Tharna. I have obeyed. No one has presented a bill for my expenses, and I have nursed my child. I would ask what the vagrancy is based upon.

[13:17]  Sahiela Lavendel pulls out a scroll, and mumbles “200 Gold Tarns in heathcare, birthing, food & lodging”

[13:19]  Sahiela Lavendel: lets go to the mental state and the warrants they are based on

[13:19]  Lady Tammy gulps, surprised at the unbelievably large charge – when a gold tarn is commonly a years income for a family.

[13:20]  Sahiela Lavendel puts the scroll to the side

[13:20]  Lady Tammy: Yes Lady Regent. I can address the mental sate with a document I believe you hold, Lady Sunny’s evaluation.

[13:20]  Sahiela Lavendel: that is a lesser charge, it seems your pick of lodging wasnt exactly the expectations of your social standing

[13:21]  Lady Tammy: As I recall, it says:

I hereby state that Lady Tammy has been mentally and physically evaluated by me and found that she is of sound mind and healthy body.

The girl child Tapanga has been examined and found that she has no genetic defect and that her (unknown) father could not have been in any way related to her mother.

Sunny, head physician of Tharna

[13:21]  Sahiela Lavendel: yes, I know that document

[13:21]  Sahiela Lavendel looks through her papers

[13:21]  Sahiela Lavendel: yet it says nothing of your moral standard

[13:22]  Sahiela Lavendel pulls out another scroll

[13:22]  Lady Tammy: Forgive me Lady Regent, the second charge was stated as: mentally unable to tend your child properly

[13:22]  Sahiela Lavendel pulls out another scroll

[13:22]  Lady Tammy: Forgive me Lady Regent, the second charge was stated as: mentally unable to tend your child properly

[13:22]  Lady Tammy: To which the Lady Sunny’s statement is a response.

[13:22]  Sahiela Lavendel: I have a statement here that you consorted with kajirus, from which you have the child, you acted in a manner not becoming a freewoman, even of lower caste, but rather a lawless she-urt in port kar

[13:23]  Sahiela Lavendel: guilty or not guilty?

[13:23]  Lady Tammy: not guilty.

[13:24]  Sahiela Lavendel: okay, the warrants from other cities, this court can not decide if they are valid or not at this moment

[13:24]  Lady Tammy: I have NEVER been a she-urt. I have never been in Port Kar – That is Lady Urvie.

[13:24]  Sahiela Lavendel: it will come up later as a reference of character

[13:25]  Tabby tries to hide her giggle

[13:25]  Ann Holiday: tal girls

[13:25]  Sahiela Lavendel: tal Ann, court is in session, please take your position

[13:25]  Lady Tammy: Lady Regent, I believe those warrants refer to a person who no longer exists and are thus no longer relevant.

[13:26]  Sahiela Lavendel: okay to the debts owned to tharna, we have questions

[13:26]  Sahiela Lavendel: that I will accept as you plea then in that matter

[13:26]  Sahiela Lavendel: mental health, you plea not guilty

[13:26]  Sahiela Lavendel: warrants, you plea non-reivant to your person

[13:26]  Lady Tammy: I plead healthy Lady Regent, if that is your meaning.

[13:27]  Sahiela Lavendel: yes, that is my meaning

[13:27]  Sahiela Lavendel: since the question of custody of your child rests on your moral state, I think it is best we take up that question

[13:28]  Ann Holiday stands as bailif halberd in hand

[13:28]  Sahiela Lavendel: do we have witnesses, or persons with petitions?

[13:29]  Sahiela Lavendel looks between the other two ladies

[13:29]  Lady Somera Sands raises her hand. Regent, I would ask to take custody of the child based upon the impropriety of Tammy as a FW.

[13:30]  Sahiela Lavendel: yes, I have that petition

[13:30]  Sahiela Lavendel: I also have in my possession a petition from the patriarch of your family to do so

[13:30]  Lady Somera Sands: Lady Tamarra, the woman sitting behind me is here at my request as female elder of our family.

[13:30]  Sahiela Lavendel: per merchant law, that weighs heavily

[13:31]  Sahiela Lavendel: not so much in tharna as the matriarch has first right to claim any child of family

[13:31]  Lady Somera Sands: It is my understanding that Tharna law might hold a Matriarch in equal or higher standing – especially as the male, Lyndal is her Nephew.

[13:32]  Sahiela Lavendel: but since this case does involve many other cities…

[13:32]  Sahiela Lavendel: we will consider both matriarch & patriarch as relivant persons

[13:33]  Sahiela Lavendel: and who may I ask is this matriarch Lady SOmera?

[13:33]  Sahiela Lavendel: I have not heard from her

[13:33]  Ann Holiday wonders where those who had agreed to be advocates for the sides might be

[13:34]  Lady Tamarra: Well I am the oldest on the family, that’s a fact. I am a slaver and rather used to dealing with both animals and Fw who’s behavior is improper.

[13:34]  Lady Tamarra: I am Tamarra Sands, Slaver of Vonda.

[13:34]  Sahiela Lavendel: ahhh you are the matriarch?

[13:35]  Lady Tamarra: I am the oldest living person in our extended family – fo those named Sands, Homewood and Murfin

[13:35]  Sahiela Lavendel: and how may I say do you wish for the child tannanga be cared for?

[13:35]  Sahiela Lavendel: IF this court finds tammy’s morals questionable enough

[13:36]  Sahiela Lavendel: the court holds your voice in this matter highly

[13:46]  Lady Tamarra: I was starting to say – that if Tammy had done all of what I have heard about – and wasn’t enslaved of dead, twould be a miracle.

[13:48]  Sahiela Lavendel: Lady Slaver, my question was, IF tammy is considered morally unable to care for her child, who should?

[13:48]  Lady Tamarra: So Lady Regent, I was saying, if Tammy had done what she was accused of – and even if there was suspicion of that – she would likely be fit for a collar at least.

[13:49]  Lady Tamarra: And that was `fore she turned up pregnant.

[13:49]  Sahiela Lavendel: nods

[13:49]  Lady Tamarra: AT that point I would have done exactly what I hear LC did – rip off her veil and slap on a collar.

[13:50]  Sahiela Lavendel: I see

[13:50]  Lady Tamarra: But I also hear that Port Cos probably thought she was using taking a collar to dodge the crimes – and they refused to approve the enslavement.

[13:51]  Sahiela Lavendel: however, we have a child to consider

[13:51]  Lady Tamarra: Well I figure you are right in that – once she did find her way into a collar – she DID excape all those warrants.

[13:52]  Lady Tamarra: and that person no longer existed.

[13:52]  Sahiela Lavendel: yes

[13:52]  Tabby(tabahita.magic): ((greetings Mistress))

[13:52]  Sahiela Lavendel: so let us go to the verdict

[13:52]  Lady Tamarra: But I hear you freed her here – before the child was born, did I get that right?

[13:52]  Sahiela Lavendel: in matter of warrant by foreign cities

[13:53]  Sahiela Lavendel: yes that is tharna law

[13:53]  Sahiela Lavendel: no kajira may give birth

[13:54]  Sahiela Lavendel: the warrants are found to not be valid since tammy had been collared

[13:54]  Lady Tamarra: So she’s a FW with NO past? No PRIOR homestone just Tharna. Caouse most manumission includes local homestone – making the newly freed a ward o the city till she gets started up proper.

[13:54]  Sahiela Lavendel: no city may call upon those warrants for the arrest of tammy while she is in tharna

[13:55]  Lady Tamarra: Them warrants aint nothing but xxx wipe now,

[13:55]  Sahiela Lavendel: yes, she was freed, but she never applied for citizenship in tharna

[13:56]  Sahiela Lavendel: however, they do put tammy’s moral is grave question

[13:57]  Sahiela Lavendel: the matter of the guardianship of Tapan the court gives over to the matriarch of her house

[13:57]  Sahiela Lavendel: it is a family matter

[13:57]  Lady Somera Sands: And Regent, that is my point.

[13:57]  Lady Tamarra: So you mean I get to decide?

[13:57]  Sahiela Lavendel: yes, you are the matriarch

[13:58]  Sahiela Lavendel: now to the last issue tammy

[13:58]  Lady Tamarra sighs – ya sure don’t like settin no precedents now do ya young Lady, Lady Regent.

[13:58]  Sahiela Lavendel: 200 gold tarns owed the city

[13:59]  Sahiela Lavendel: naturally Lady Slaver, we rest our case on past judgements

[13:59]  Sahiela Lavendel: heads of family, rule their families

[13:59]  Sahiela Lavendel: family is the basis of gorean society

[14:00]  Sahiela Lavendel: the patriarch of the family abstained his right in your favor

[14:00]  Lady Tamarra smiles – not criticizin Lady Regent – tis you’re call all the way. And that is is – though I wager Somera here never thought o that twist.

[14:00]  Sahiela Lavendel laughs

[14:00]  Sahiela Lavendel: now tammy

[14:01]  Sahiela Lavendel: you accumulated a major debt

[14:01]  Sahiela Lavendel: granted, some of the quarters may have been forced upon you

[14:02]  Sahiela Lavendel: thus the court will pay the medical costs

[14:02]  Sahiela Lavendel: so that leaves a debt of 1 gold tarn 300 silver tarns, and some coppers

[14:03]  Sahiela Lavendel: as I dont see the city paying for blackwine

[14:03]  Sahiela Lavendel: do you have that sum?

[14:04]  Lady Tammy’s jaw drops open, not expecting that.. “Thankk you Lady “, she stumbles realizing that it is STILL an enormous debt.

[14:05]  Sahiela Lavendel: If not, the court has 3 options

[14:05]  Lady Tammy: I have about a dozen silver and several gemstones whose value might cover that, but I am not sure Lady Regent.

[14:05]  Sahiela Lavendel: sentence you to the mines

[14:05]  Tabby gasps in horror

[14:05]  Sahiela Lavendel: collar & sell you tto cover the debt

[14:06]  Sahiela Lavendel: alow you the time to pay off that debt

[14:06]  Sahiela Lavendel: it has come to my knowledge that our head physician has offered you imployment

[14:06]  Sahiela Lavendel: is that correct?

[14:06]  Sahiela Lavendel: employment*

[14:07]  Lady Tammy: She wishes me to learn the role of physician, as an apprentice, yes Lady Regent

[14:07]  Sahiela Lavendel: okay.. here’s what we will do

[14:08]  Sahiela Lavendel: Captain Ann will monitor you

[14:08]  Sahiela Lavendel: you have 2 weeks to borrow or bring up the sum

[14:08]  Sahiela Lavendel: if not, you will be collared again

[14:08]  Sahiela Lavendel: and sold

[14:08]  Sahiela Lavendel: if no buyers, sent to the mines

[14:09]  Sahiela Lavendel: case closed

 

The Vile and Vicious Free Women (FW) of Gor

a.    FW have a right to speak their minds

b.    In the books FW often demeaned or insuted men

c.    FW can state opinions etc, the city laws will protect them

d.    In hunters there is a great quote that FW women are lively and intelligent vibrant.

B.    Hatred of Slave girl

a.    Hatred is legendary

b.    Because FW are jealous of them

i.     FW is femininity turned inward kajira femininity turned outward

c.    Kajira are terrified of FW.

i.     FW can plot to kill them

ii.    FW can beat them for the slightest reason

iii.    FW can kick them and demean them

d.    Men love their slaves, and contract with their companions

i.     FW relationship with men is more businesslike than love, though a love of family may  develop in time.

C.    FW may be manipulative and cruel

a.    From the lowliest peasant FW of Melinda in Slave girl to the exalted Talena FW manipulate

b.    FW are like spiders they build  webs

c.    FW use poison

d.    FW murder

e.    FW can be the cruelest and most vicious a woman can be embracing the most negative  traits of being female

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When your avatar is in an area that allows damage to occur, a heart is shown at the top of your screen with the percentage of health. When this reaches 0%, you will be teleported to your home location. So the “death” isn’t a permanent one, you don’t lose any inventory and can return to the damage enabled region. source: http://wiki.secondlife.com/wiki/Death 

KING ARTHUR

A Di Jan panther is threatened with death by the Sa Vella ! idk…why did the Sa Vella pick on the sweetest panther girl on Gor….she didn’t deserve this I’m telling ya….all the bunnies and puppies had large weepy eyes …..lolz

[02:29]  Nelly : Well …captive…i think you may have an idea why you are here. After the events that happened between Dijan and SaVella..i think its time to put things right.

[02:30]  Cally : looks up and tries a smile…..” oh…we having a paga together ? ” she says somewhat hopefully

[02:32]  Nelly  smiles..”Of course not…see…you send your slaves here so they steal our supplies and insult us…who are as free as you…..we catched one of them and did what needed to be done. I attempted to notch her ear as this is what is done to thieves…dont you think?”

[02:34]  Cally : sighs quietly to herself and shrugs almost imperceptibly…” but…but we are Di’Jan….we own everything…..* shakes her head * have no idea why a slave of ours would bother to steal, she should just take !…” she nods as though she believes her own utterances implicitely whilst looking round for her exit route

[02:37]  Nelly : Well *nelly nodded* at least you got the right attitude….but it is as well known that you should not own what you can not defend..hu? Anyway…we should make sure that even the last of your band understands what it means to her slave to send her to our forest to do mischief. And that is by far worswr then to get her ear notched. Thats why you are here….you will serve as a shining example of revenge and regret. Yes you may feel honored.”

[02:41]  Cally: shivers lightly as she is decidely not liking what she is hearing…. she tries to brave it out…….” am not sure I want to be honoured…in fact am damn sure I don’t…now I would perhaps suggest you untie me, these ropes chafe, and we sit by the fire, have a drink and you tell me your troubles…it will be best in the end !” she tries to look sympathetically at the huntress though her mind rages with anger

[02:45]  Nelly  laughes..”no…i would never sit down with a dijan to have a drink..and I don’t like paga at all..this bitter is not to my taste…water, milk or even a mild ale are far more delicious. Men drink paga as it makes them feel more manly drinking the worst brew under the three moons. No….as far as I heard your band came to our forest to…have revenge for one of their slaves ear bein notched…hmm..wait..it wasn’t even notched just her auricle slit…as a warning and a copper tarsk was paid for the …temporary damage. Your band came here notching the ear of one of our panther girls….as…answer. Of course..you see the spiral of escalation here..do you?”

[02:49]  Cally : nods slowly listening to the huntress but not listening really her mind in a whirl as she struggles quietly with her bindings….” err you seen the green recently ? …oops ” pops out of her mouth as the thought forms before she means it to…” errm I mean to say its good to hear you are paying us to live here now I am really a very nice huntress, in fact the nicest huntress you could meet , so hows about you just let me go and we forget all this nonsense and I wont say a word…honest ! ” she smiles one of her best smiles which usually can make even the hardest Merc melt at the knees

[02:51]  Cari ): cut off her ears, sis …both of them ” she grumbles in her usual ‘sweet’ way

[02:53]  Nelly  blinked….”It seems you don’t take me seriously……well lets start then…iam sure you will change your mind quickly. So….it will be no surpise to you that you will be the ext step on the ladder of escalation…and we SaVella usually like to reach the top of it as first. I mean…..why should we all suffer from it. Your…death will be a worthy end to this …iam sure you will be happy knowing that you are saving many panther girls lifes with your sacrifice.

[02:54]  Cally : eyes go large and ears inexplicably prick up for some odd reason at the words…. cut off her ears ! …. and then does a double back flip as she registers the word death and her all in one sentence……” ermm * squeaks * you have definitely got the wrong person….I am an innocent ! ” she babbles out …

[02:58]  Nelly  smiles.”Of course you are innocent.” nelly said.”No one really cares if a wrongdoer dies. I mean what will they say? Something like…”she deserved it anyway..it was a result of her actions.” Thats it. But when someone dies who is not related to the issue-..well in your case you’re sharing the same tribe…then people start to think about why this had to happen.”

[03:03]  Cally: eyes almost cross over as she tries to focus her small brain on the twisted logic behind the huntress’s words….she opens her mouth to speak…” err “…closes it as her brain fails to function and then tries again ” no “….she utters with a devastating logic…” not a good idea, in fact a very very bad idea…have you any idea how much i am loved….the whole of Gor….tribes ,clans, boat loads of pirates, even a few beasts * blushes * would arrive asking some very difficult questions I can tell you ! “.

[03:03]  Nelly : I didn’t cut anyones ear off….the slave did steal from our supplies and was even braggint about it to me. I just slit her auricle…a little. But of course Tina has to make a big issue out of it. I should have hamstringed her.

[03:04]  Nelly  then turns back to her captive

[03:04]  Cari : good ” she smiles and looks at Cali ” in that case we’ll make you a decent stone, so they can grieve there ” chuckles

[03:06]  Cally : shivers and looks wildly round …her wrists working the ropes as hard as she can….” dont ! ” she screams furiously at them

[03:09]  Nelly : Well I do believe Dijan are loved by beasts…no doubt about that. But then it makes even more sense to sink you in the river….because people will be happy that not more of you share this fate. *nelly grabbed another rope from her belt…cuts a certain length from it and starts to apply another binding wrapped around the girls elbows and upper body..”Dont be upset…we should be upset….as we were attacked for threating your slaves properly. We were even punished for doing so. As we can not allow your slaves to roam around here…we of course now will make sure that it becomes way to costy for your tribe way to continue this course. And making them loose sisters by a hungry river thalarion is a pretty good way to achieve that.”

[03:10]  Cally : shivers break out even more violently now as she tries so hard to be brave…..” no please not that….I hate those things….its inhuman to do that to another woman…..how can you ” she screams……and feels like vomiting

[03:12]  Emma: smiles”Tal sisters”

[03:12]  Cari : Tal Emma

[03:12]  Cari  smiles

[03:15]  Nelly  smiles..”Yes it is inhuman to do that to someone..anyone actually not just women…but…iam sure you understand the necessity of proper actions to prevent even more suffering. I promise….after you died….no one of your tribe will share your fate….because they….will understand that its not a good idea to punish free over a slaves wrongdoings. I know you share my opinion..even though you may reject it for now.” nelly smiled and checked the ties…one hard pull and the loop around your body tightens….leaving less space in your lungs…”Hmm….a rock tied to your neck…and it should be good.”

[03:18]  Cally : shakes her head , her eyes going like castenets from side to side as she feels herself tied tightly….” ooooff…too tight ” she manages to gasp out…..” noooo….really its not too late to recant ….huntress if I die the heavens will fall…..”

[03:18]  Lita: Tal Nelly! “she snorts*

[03:21]  Nelly tilted her head….”Recant…what? It was already done dear…i mean….we have to do this…*nelly marched over to the fire and searched for a proper heavy stone to apply t the girls neck. She lifted some of the brimstones and had her eyes scanning the soil…most of the useful ones were hot by the fire…and inside the camp almost no rock was left..”Maybe we should search at the pond itself.”

[03:24]  Cally : shivers and considers her family, the long long list of those she loved and cared for, the little ones running around who would now be without her

[03:25]  Cally : , the puppies and bay deer all so dependent upon her feeding them all who would die a terrible death, a tear came to her eye

[03:25]  Cally : baby

[03:26]  Cari : yes” she looked annoyed as she hates these long walks

[03:28]  Cari : ooh ” smiles ” we’re going to play it that way are we , Yes, and Nelly is about to kill her, so…sit down, wait and you’ll get the body to take home ,won’t take long anymore

[03:29]  Cari: the mistake was already made by your sisters …” she shrugs ” live with it , but if you don’t wanna claim the body, it’s ok, we can still dump it in the swamps

[03:30]  Cari : forget it, i’m not your slave and you have no demands or commands to give here , so either change your tone, or get out

[03:31]  Cari : you wouldn’ thappen to have a stone with you , by chance?

[03:32]  Nelly  shouts: Silence! I have to concentrate!

[03:32]  Laura  shouts: Have you ever expected to say silence to me and then get silence?

[03:32]  Cari sighs ” shame , would have been helpful

[03:34]  Nelly  rolled her eyes..

[03:35]  Cally : looks around in a quasi helpful manner….” err a small pebble by your foot huntress !”

[03:35]  Cari  laughs ” off course you are ….but see….some of your sisters will perish too, maybe even you, so yes, it’s a rather desperate and silly threat,But i will give you a chance,listen carefully….Your sister ..Tina needs to be punished for what she did…take care of that and Cali might live

[03:36]  Cari: sorry ,sis ” sighs ” she didn’t bring a stone either

[03:37]  Laura : I promise you this. You will perish long before I do if you wish to walk that route. Be sure of it. There has been an uneasy truce between our two tribes for a long time now. This was wanted by people on both sides. It was wanted by me. There have been some who try to break this truce and they are dealt with on our side. And here we are yet again. So I shall ask this once and only once. Do you wish this truce to end?

[03:37]  Nelly : What does she want anyway…..i didn’t do anything to this one yet….i need some moments..*nelly looked around trying to find a proper stone here as well* I need something proper to attach to he neck…as she has to drown quickly…i mean it would not be good to have her yelling and screaming and all that.”

[03:38]  Cari : are you deaf ?? you’re the one breaking the truce, i give you a chance now…take it or leave it ..i don’t mind, we don’t mind.;mmm..Cali might though

[03:38]  Laura : you came to our land. You attacked us, you took one and now you casually talk of killing her as if it was nothing. No. I am not deaf. Are you stupid?

[03:39]  Cally : nods furiously like a demented rabbit on speed

[03:39]  Nelly : Truce…so you are sending slaves here to steal our supplies and insult us….without them being punished…..but as soon as we take action..we are breakign the truce….hmm..that makes only sense from a dijan way ..to see at things.

[03:39]  Cari : no, but you are as we didn’t came to your lands, you came to ours, girl, now go, since you don’t wanna solve it , you can say goodbye to Cali

[03:39]  Laura : Nobody sent any slaves here. She came here. We would have dealt with it as we have in the past. And now you lie to me. You say Cally came here to be taken?

[03:40]  Nelly whispered to Cali..”See….someone has to die to end this first….i think now you see the reason behind my words….” *nelly smiled* “If it means anything to you…iam glad its you to solve this problem by sacrifice.”

[03:40]  Cari: you heard whati said, you came here, attacking us before Cali was taken, Deal properly with your sister who caused this, or wave goodbye to your sister ,it’s your choice

[03:41]  Laura: do you seriously think that killing Cally will end this? No. That will be the start of something more which will build to even more. That would not be the end. It would be a beguinning. You know better than that, Nelly.

[03:42]  Cari : she’s deaf, sis,go ahead, i’ll help you find a stone, she ‘s here on false pretexts ignoring the deeds of her own band

[03:43]  Nelly sighs.”Earlier today..tina came to our forests shooting…to take revenge for the punishment that was don’t to your stealing slave. There are two ways to deal with it…one is to let her continue doing so…and stand down..and the other way is to show that we do not accept slaves stealing our supplies. What would you do in our case Laura? Would you allow our kajirae to walk around in Lake Ias stealing? Cause this is what you want us to do.”

[03:43]  Cally : gags….” you are glad its me…but but but ….why ? ” she asks in her most plainitive voice …..” look at me …do I look killable….furrable maybe…killable well no……I mean No…really…its just not me !”

[03:43]  Laura : I should point out, of course, that Cally means little to me. But I am only one. She matters to far more. I would simply return the slave to you for you to deal with. And you know I speak the truth.

[03:44]  Laura : or Talra surely does as I have done so in the past

[03:45]  Cally : frowns suddenly at Laura’s words…..means little……in fact if her feet werent bound she would have stomped one of them….

[03:45]  Nelly : Tina would not deal with her..she would pat her head saying she was doing well. You forget that we know her. And on gor…all free should punish any slaves for doing wrong. I was trainign her slave and she attacked to thank me for it? No…i demand somethign more then just a truce. I want to be compensated for what happened. Properly. The ear of a free of our band was notched.

[03:46]  Laura: and you believe a murder is a suitable retaliation? You can dress it up as sacrifice all you wish but you iknow its a simple, straightforward murder. Have you murdered before?

[03:48]  Cari: i have, and if my sister hand should fail, which i doubt, i’ll be glad to do it again, but you heard her, you have a chance, take it ,if you don’t, her death is on your hands not ours

[03:48]  Nelly : No Laura..but I wasn never punished for treating a slave girl..right as well. This is an escalation…and we shurelly won’t wait for one of ours being killed first. No we go straight to the end of it. You have to ask yourself if it was worth it..for a slave girl being punished mildly about lying..stealing and insulting a free. It was not our choice.

[03:48]  Laura : I will now ask you to leave us, Cari. You have no place here

[03:49]  Lita  cocked a brow as she heard the spoken word… but still too curious… she just stands there and listens to them

[03:49]  Cari : you can ask whatever you want, but you can forget it , go order your band, but not ours is that clear ?

[03:50]  Nelly : take her *nelly handed Laura the leash* any of your girls returning here….and you won’t get her back.

[03:51]  Laura : I am not wrong. I tell all of ours to stay away from here and for the most part, they do just that. Occasioanlly, someone new or someone troublesome ignores what they are told and we deal with it. I deal with it.

[03:52]  Cari : warn your slaves and your sisters, set one toe here and you’ll see what happens , now get off this land, we have plenty of work to do ..disinfecting the whole place will take days

[03:52]  Cari : tina wasn’t new ” laughs ” spare me your pathetic excuses

[03:53]  Laura : what a pahteitc little girl she turned out to be. I had hoped the years would mature her. Instead they turned her bitter

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 The birth of a tribe : Sa’ng Suri

The Sa’ng Suri may no longer be active but it lives on in the heart and mind of  those who where part of that great tribe.  Marli former elder and healer of the Sa’ng Suri talunas.

The Sa’ng Suri

The shore of Talbot showed nothing of what a beach should be; the golden sands were stained a deep red, dried and hardened into clay as the sun beat down. The now red glass cast an eerie light along the mounds of bodies, spears and arrows ordainments jutting from the sparse leather clothing of the women scattered around, the battle’s end leaving their bodies in twisted wrecks on the ground, the birds already circling to claim a feast.

Rising from the ground, as if a sore splinter amongst all the death, jutted a scorched pole, the scrap of cloth that was tied haphazardly flapping in the wind. “Sa’ng Suri” was scrawled on it. The whine of the air taking that flag and the ever beating wings of the birds completed the image of end.

The plump Wader’s black eye gleamed as it waddled closer to the woman’s out stretched hand, the long gash running the length of her hand tempting the creature. With a great sweal the bird gave flight as the hand of the woman darted up aiming a blow to the bird. With the longest of groans the hand dug its track into the red hardened sand pushing one shoulder off the grave of so many, pulling her knees up under herself slowly she let her head fall, the thought of what was to greet her, the sights of that battle… the aftermath.

She gave her head a small shake, the long blonde braids slapping wet against her cheek each contact creating a small blossom of crimson on her pale skin.

Her breath came slower and slower, that argument, the denial of what would be before her when she rose fought and lost, with all of the remaining energy she caught the shaft of a shattered spear, the leather hanging from thigh and chest creaking as the blood chipped away with each movement, teeth gritted her eyes locked with the massacre laying all around her, long fans of blood creating a great art work along the beach front to the water where the foam rolled in a sinister pink.

A pain settled on her, a fire spurring around her body lighting up every small nick and exploding along her side where the spear had caught her, wavering on the spot for a moment she tilted her head to the sky, her mouth opening to emit a dreadful wail the sound crackling out of a dry throat as a small tear caught the blood carving a line down to her chin in the dirt and mess of the day.

“The Sa’ng Suri has died,” her voice rasped over the words and the wail took the little strength left in her and she swayed with the world before the air drove its way out of her and blessed blackness over came the scene.

A gulls call woke her, the cold had already begun to sink into her bodys, with a shiver she wavered to a sitting position in the alter of bodies, the pain in her dwindled as a new rage took its place.

“Why, why lead us against a city… such a fool.”

Suddenly out of the corner of an eye she caught movement, another blonde head, arm outstretched, clawing her way towards the tree line mechanically pulling herself along her belly carving a deep red furrow in her wake.

Digging the would be walking stick into the ground she pushes herself up to her feet, in the first step her face contorted with jarring stab along her side threaten to treat her to sleep again. Teeth gridding she pushed herself on towards the struggling woman.

“Cal…” she coughed, a gravel rasp coming instead of her normal smooth tone.

“Cally.”

Stopping just short of the woman she dropped to a knee the breath freezing in her throat as the lines in the sand became clear, fixing a hand on her shoulder she gave a firm pushing rolling her over to expose what she already expected. Rising from the leather chest piece the woman wore stood a shattered wooden shaft, the woman’s eyes already half glazed she managed a gurgle as a flood of tears broke free cutting lines in the dirt covering her cheeks.

Cupping her head gently she held the sobbing woman to her breast as she attempted to run fingers though mattered hair.

“Come now… Get it all out”

“Ama…” Her wail was terrible, a woman that had lost everything before her and could only watch.

“Hush now,” came Ama’s grating tone. “We must get off this beach.”

Cally made no move to fight the Ama’s pulls, hoisting her half over her shoulder. Only a firming of the lips could allude to the pain of the two. Unsteadily they weaved from the beach, fighting their way into the forest’s protection. The two stumbled over unforgiving thickets, thorns peppering whatever bits of exposed skin the battle had not already bloodied. Mercifully the obstacles thinned, giving way to a river bed, the raging torrents of the vosk delta whipping by.

At the end of her strength Ama laid Cally down to begin inspecting that wound that seemed to be drinking in all of her energy, her fingers skated over that place with a sigh, her fingers feeling behind her shoulder, praying for the tip of the arrow head to be felt there.

“Can you suffer a little more?” Ama’ voice had such a cold edge to it as her fist tightened around the shaft.

“Do it!” The command came shrill, the anguish clear in the last of it as Cally’s face screwed up, before that mind set broke and gave way to fear.

Ama’s hand forced the arrow head the rest of the way though the Cally’s shoulder, her hands began to work, a skill all the youth of the forest learn as the belt knife appeared in her hand desperately working the last of the shattered shaft free, all of Cally’s weigh crashed down on Ama, so involved in her work she didn’t notice the high screams fading to silence.

With a sigh she laid Cally back on the grass before swaggering towards the vosk hands busy trying to unhook the bota from her belt. Dropping to her knees at the river bank she leant forwards drinking in a low breath before burring her head in the white water rushing by.

“Ahhhhhh” she pulls her head free the braids slapping wetly on her back before scooping some of the water into the narrow opening of the bota.

Kneeling beside Cally, Ama pushed the small nose of the bota into the angry red hole standing free on Callys chest giving it the smallest of squeezes to force the stream though, her face hardend as she put more and more pressure, a pool of watered down blood forming around the pair until the water began to drip from her back was clear. Twisting the daggers blade free from the ground where it had been left a long strip of Ama’s skirt came free under the razors edge to form a bandage looping around Cally’s chest .

The hard look melted from Ama’s face as she laid Callys head back down on the grass a finger brushing aside some loose strands of hair before turning her attention to her own wounds. Lifting an arm her eyes widened a little as purple engulfed her entire side the middle of which hosted a long jaggered slash.

“Priest kings be damned!”

Ama’s finger tentatively traced the purple skin the expression on her face dark, picking the bota up from its resting place she directed the nozzle at her side before giving it a squeeze letting a jet of water splash into the long slice. Giving another long sigh, this time for once laughing at studying the green arts she fastened her top over the injury hiding it from view.

The crackle of a fire woke Ama, her hand already moving to her long sheathed dagger before a voice carried over the wind.

“Did you really have to be so rough in removing this…? I fear I will bruise and not be a sight for an age now.”

Ama sat up, the sun only an orange haze behind the mountains and trees…

“How long did I…”

“It’s been a day now.” Cally cut her off. “As far as I can tell anyway, assuming I did not sleep longer.”

Cally finger extends to the fat bota skin laying beside Ama’s head.

“Water” her voice was cut and sharp, Ama almost cringed at its tone, so unlike Cally, but her mouth burned for water, and hastily it was being dipped over cracked and dried lips, until it flooded her mouth, sending her into a spasm of coughs and splutters.

Ama’s head raised with the skin drained, the gold of her eyes seeming dull as if something was missing.

“We are all that is left, aren’t we?” the question was a hard one but Cally only sniffed and went on with the fish, the knife taking the scales off and gutting it before flipping it into the bucket with three other of its bare friends.

Ama stirred trying her feet before an almighty crash of pain thundered though her side, radiating from the opening there, with a sharp gasp she dropped back down, Cally grunted, as if with a half laugh.

“If you do not get that looked at, I will be all that is left.” Cally looked over from her work as she spoke, her eyes rimmed with red.

“What do we do now…? Rudderless boats sink and I am not sure we even have wood left on our boat.” Cally’s stare pierced Ama as she waited for those cogs to turn.

Ama gave a shake her head for a moment, thinking, trying to drag at some hope, something to keep the spirits alive, and with a half hearted exclamation of “Voltia,” she returned Cally’s stare just as hard.

“Voltia?”

“Yes, Voltia.” came Ama’ reply still hard trying to meet that lost gaze. “We will ask the panther En’s that exile themselves to those heights for guidance… They must know what to do.”

Cally gave nothing but a nod, breaking eye contact as little pieces of wood spitted the fish, leaving them to lay open over the licking flames. Ama stirred again, a little more caution spared to lean her weight on the spear shaft, with a hobble she picked her way over to where Cally sat teasing the fire up into little sparks against the twilight.

“We will leave as soon as time allows.” Ama stared at the sparks as she spoke, “Voltia is at the end of the Vosk, a simple raft will have us there in a few days if it doesn’t fall apart”

The meal of charred fish and water from those hollow bark mugs was shared in silence, both women going over and over the events that had brought them there; the slaughter, names that no longer existed and that safety that now seemed to have only been smoke and mirrors. With all the fish devoured, preparation for the raft began.

Ama sat by the fire, her leg propped up in front of her, dagger working against the tree branches; taking long strips off it before finishing the cut and throwing it into a pile, her eyes only took in the work, the occasional grunt behind her from Cally returning dragging another log only bringing a moment of pause. The sun had fully disappeared behind the mountain caps before the logs of wood were being lashed together using the makeshift rope. The night birds were calling before the last of it, but finally, with the camp fire dwindling to nothing, the raft was completed.

“If we challenge the Vosk at night, it will be the end of us for sure.” Ama murmured, a hint of a yawn hidden quickly by a hand.

“We could not steer it without light anyway. We shall sleep and then set off in the morning.” Cally was already lying down near the embers of the camp fire. Ama not far behind her as sleep took them.-

Ama woke slowly, the roar of the Vosk, blending with the tree songs and the trilling of the birds bringing a smile to her face. It seems peaceful, before a loud grunting snore issued from the other woman. Cally was on her back, the straps of leather formerly covering her breasts and midriff mostly caught around her head somehow. With the shake of a head and a laugh, Ama extended her foot, giving Cally a quick kick to the side .

“It is time we were on our way. The sun seems to have an hour or some on us, and if we wish to meet the foot hills today we should have left then.”

Ama was already hauling herself up on her broken spear, one free hand coiled in the rope fastened to the side of the raft. Painfully slowly the wood began to bounce across the dirt as stumbling steps propelled her towards the back. She struggled on for only a moment before Cally’s hand curled around the second handle and Ama was having to limp in order to keep up with its pace.

They stood at the bed of the Vosk, the handles lashed to trees hanging over the banks and the raft bouncing and straining with the rushing current, until both were balanced on it precariously’ doing everything but tying themselves to the wooden logs before cutting the tethering ropes.

Slightly green in the face Ama shifted her weigh trying to stay up right on the raft as each new wave smashed against it lurching them back and forth.

“Um is walking still out of the question” her voice carried the faked sound of surety about it while her eyes where as wide as plates staring at the collection of rocks smashing the waves laying before them.

“Yes, I suppose there is” Came Cally’s voice as the raft gave an almighty lurch forwards, Ama’s head swung to see a dagger in Cally’s hand and the tethering ropes now flapping, severed in the tree branch.

With no anchor the raft took off along the vosk, jumping and shaking as it crashed into the rapids, trees and rocks on the bank becoming only an indistinguishable blur to the two. Ama turned her head to look at Cally, a grimace forming on her face at the lack of green to the woman’s face and more so to the almost bored expression she gave to the passing rocks.

Cally gave a laugh as she slapped Ama on the thigh

“Being a Teletus born woman had its advantages; one of which was the ability to hold onto dinner in rough waters.”

The hours flew by, the sun making its quick race towards the mountains as rocks and snags clam small chunks of their raft.

“This is not going to hold out for much longer, the bindings at the front are all but gone” Worry seemed to have finally snuck into Cally’s voice before suddenly they seem to burst free from the forest thickets, into the monolithic shadows of the Voltia foot hills, the incredible heights carving into the heavens with impossible twists and turns scattering shadows to the edges of the great forrest lines.

Cally was already moving, the dagger in her hand dancing around ropes hanging this way and that off the raft slicing them free.

“Ready!” came Cally’s yell before the daggers blade took the last of the intertwining ropes dropping a heave plank of wood off the back, the effect was instant.

Rather than staying with the currents the raft veered off course, carrying them at an amazing speed towards the bank of the Vosk.

“Brace!” Ama’s shout was only an instant before the raft collided with the stones dotting the bank. Everything seemed to shudder for an instant, before all the sudden the raft was gone, both women where flying though the air over the licking swells of the vosk.

With a load crack Ama’s back sliced though reeds and branches before coming to a crushing halt on the mud bank driving the air out of her, shaking her head side to side to clear the spots from her vision showed her Cally spread eagled against a stone. An angry mutters, only the kind a deck hand would know the meaning of coming from her. A smile broke on Ama’s face catching the tail end of the triad as she laid her head back into the muddy pillow “A bird, a fish better a be a bloody priest king in they think I can bloody well climb like a ape too”

Suddenly, Cally’s hand was around her shoulder, forcing her up in what was now full dark, and Ama spluttered.

“How did it get so dark?”

“You have been asleep for an hour now… It is time we made up some ground.” Cally’s voice sounded sleep laden too, and the hints of a yawn marred the end of her sentence.

With those hands around her shoulders Ama acquiesced, leaning on the spear as she stumbled to her feet, and together the two started the trip towards the foot hills, the looming spires becoming more and more impossibly tall with each step towards them.

All though the night they picked their ways around pit falls and razor sharp ledges that came to a sudden halt in a cliff face. The day broke early; Cally sat panting on a boulder, the dark rings under her eyes showing more than she would say.

“We must press on,” Cally sounded half hearted as she picked herself up. “Come on.”

Ama’s side cried out with each shambling step, the progression up the impossible climbs and rises had opened the wound and started the blood flowing down along her side, grounding the spear she took another shaking step forwards. Even Cally’s wound seemed to have taken life again, issuing a dark red patch on her back.

“Cally… I… I…” Ama’s words caught as the corners of her sight turned black, everything started to seem like a tunnel “I… I” she tried again before her knees buckled. Cally was there, slowly taking the weight of the fall but seeming to come down with the strain of it.

Ama’s head jerks with a large bump, raising a hand she curled it around her forehead against the head ache that seemed ready to split out there, with an effort she forced open her eyes to take in the starry sky. Ama jolted again as another bump came, rolling to one side she looking at the stones sliding by before catching Cally’s voice in a heated discussion with other gruff, dry voice.

“You foolish children should have seen your death in attempting these mountains in your condition. I understand your desperation, but life is sacred and if your story is true, it is all you have left.”

Ama’s eyes close again as the sled skips over the rocks clenching them against the pain each bump caused in her head before sleep over came her again.

Ama gave a gasp as she shoot upright, the red hot pains in her side replaced by only a dull thudding, confused and trying to blink the sleep from her eyes she looked around the cave trying to take everything in, from the bed she lay in to the linen cloth wrapped around her midrift before finally coming to rest on Cally sitting on the end of the bed clothes removed and a matching white dressing over her shoulder. Their eyes meet for an instant, before Cally nods off towards the far side of the cave. Ama follows her gaze, falling upon a woman in dark grey cloth, her features stern and a frown fixed on her lips.

Ama’ eyes widen, taking in the woman, the curve of her hips tracing up to the fall of her breast, bright blue eyes seeming to measure and know everything in a single glance. Her heart quickens and before could stop herself she smoothed down the mess of her hair, acting as if she was a little girl with a crush.

“Dani,” The woman barked breaking Ama’s trance.

“You can call me Dani… Now speak of what has happened.”-

Dani starts forward, picking her way towards the two, her gaze shifting between them, a small smirk coming to her lips as she sees the blonde with the braid double taking at the sight of her. Dani crosses her arms beneath her breasts as she stalks forwards, cutting in before either of them can speak.

“And most importantly, what advice from me do you think can bring back the dead?”-

Ama’s mouth works Dani’s sudden appearance, her manner; her beauty stealing all the moisture from her mouth, thankfully Cally’s voice breaks the awkward silence.

“Our tribe was slaughtered… I do not know how many escaped… Ama is all I have seen and we… Came to find help from… “Cally trailed off under the woman’s glacial stare, her mouth opened again and clicked shut before cupping her hands in her lap and dropping her gaze.

Dani’ mouth twitches for a moment, stewing over the thoughts in her mind, all of the things that placed her into exile in these mountains.

“You say men came and killed all of your tribe.” Dani pauses for a moment, before giving a strange mix of hiss and spit by blowing air though her front teeth.

“Men… “That strange whistle came again as Dani seemed to be stewing that word in her mind, or the concept put to her by Cally all that time hissing whistle coming from her teeth, Dani’s back turned to look up and down the bare wall of the cave.

“You will first need to round up all you can, any that did not die and find safety.” Ama gave a quirked smile, Dani’s change conversation seeming to jump from idea to idea every other second, she drew back as looking up she noticed the woman’s stony face was fixed on her again.

“How?” Came Ama’s timbered voice she cringes a little at the accusing note in her voice.

“How, we have no leader, nothing can pull us back together, for us to go back there would be death! And… I just… Well” A crimson explodes across Ama’s cheeks as the gaze forces the words clear from her mind again, cupping her hands together she takes on the same pose as Cally glaring at the floor just clear of their feet.

Dani turns from the pair, striding towards the fire, her mind steaming with the ideas, free women slaughtered and left to the collar. She put her hands to her forehead, pushes the long strands of hair over her shoulder before giving a long sigh.

“Foolish girls,” She mutters to herself. “Foolish foolish foolish.”

Standing there Dani seems to address the fire in a heated discussion

“I am too old” she tells herself firmly. “Too old and hard for the new age.”

Blowing the air though her teeth again Dani’s fist tightens in her hair, Amethyst’s annoying sing song voice ringing in her head “Do what needs to be done and make it work later!”

With a snarl she rounds on the two again, anger now painting her face. Ama sunk back a little, as that blue gaze now seemed to shield flames. “Could the woman mean to kill us after all of this?” her eyes darts around for a weapon, or some escape.

“I will be coming.” Ama’s mouth falls open, there is no reading this woman; she seems to want you dead before offering you her help, raising her head Ama’s mouth opens before being cut short again.

“My name carries death and when word of me spreads, death will come to claim what it has been denied so long.”

Wide eyed she turns to Cally, the O shaped mouth mirrored there.

“I thought she was going to spit us and give the larls a feast.” Said Cally, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Beautiful.” Ama could not catch the word and crimson splashes her cheeks, the shock on Cally’ face now seemed all for Ama. The silence lasted only a few moments before both broke into laughter, the tension marching from the room on Dani’s heels.-

Sitting alone, Dani stares at the meagre possessions, all she had managed to bring with her to this place. The old sigils of the Pa Ri Tor lay scattered among selected daggers and the strangest pair of goggles banded in leather. One of the lenses in them is snapped. She picks up a dagger from a small table in one hand, the other gathering up the length of hair travelling down to the small of her back. With the quickest of jerks her hair falls about her shoulders, the bulk of it littering the floor at her feet.

The dagger dances around the gray strands hanging in disarray around her face nicking and carving the mess into a style resembling a town boy’s, Flicking the daggers blade down into the table top she picks up the bizarre goggles rubbing the leather fastenings in her fingers for a moment, the lines of her face seeming all too apparent with the pained look she gave them, giving herself a quick shake she fastens them behind her head, the lenses sitting in the short cropped hair.

“Death rides again, Apathy. Forgive me.” Dani speaks to herself as she begins fastening daggers into boots, saving a long blackened blade for last. Dani’s hand gives the smallest of shakes as it takes hold of the elaborate hilt never meant for the hand of a woman to wield; the small skulls, eyes made from black pearls gave the thing a truly sinister look, spinning the thing in her palm she adds it to the array decorating her body. With that she turns back to the room holding the other two.

To Ama it seems as if her mouth would never be closed again around this woman. Dani reenters the room, her hair now shorter than most boys would keep it, her cheekbones and frame so sharp against the guttering flare of the fire.

“Test that side” Dani ordered.

Ama stumbled, almost dripping over her own feet to free herself of the blanket, she stood stretching awaiting the explosion of pain to roar down her side, clapping a hand to her side she looks between Cally and Dani trying to find an answer in either of their faces.

“Its fine” Ama stammered…

“Very well… I have prepared… Come. We have work before us.” Dani’s words left no room for rebuttal. She was already half way towards the cave entrance.  Ama hurried to follow, before realising that Cally was still rummaging to find the top she had been wearing earlier. Ama came up alongside her.

“Do you really want this woman to lead us?” Cally’ voice was barely a whisper meant only for Ama’s ears, though Dani could not have heard from that far even if they had have been speaking normally.

“She is the perfect one to lead us, tell me you do not feel safe in her wake.” Ama’ response was met with only a grunt from Cally as they tailed along behind the woman.

Over the weeks, their band grew, bedraggled women stumbled out of the forests, a few faces from the Sa’ng Suri blood stained and always injured. Dani’s skill at the green arts startled all of them; coming from a woman covered in scars and wearing so many daggers a gift like that was not expected.

By the turn of the season Dani called a halt. Their numbers had blossomed from what had started as a measly three, to an astounding sixteen survivors of the beach massacre. Ama looked over the faces; Poet, Bridgette, Nikki, Delle, Fin and others she had only seen in passing. Camping that night, Dani as always stood alone, bow at the ready, scanning the woods around the dwellings, Ama and Cally sat by the fire, only Ama could not tear her eyes from Dani’s back until the conversation twisted, Poet’s arrival meant that Sa’ng Suri had a surviving Elder.

“So we ask her.” Ama broke her gaze at Poet’s words.

“She has enough knowledge and strength to be our En.” All eyes fleeted to Dani’s back for that moment as Cally spoke.

“I will follow her, as my En or not.”

The nods carried around the fire, some of them rising to voice their agreement. Poet rose to her feet, picking her way towards Dani, Ama and Cally at her heels. Dani’ blue gaze fell on them before they came too close; she eased her bow fletching to turn fixing each of them slowly considering.

“What is it?” That voice never seemed to change to Ama, always that clear command expecting to hear the answer rather than giving a choice.

Poet spoke up first. “Dani, you have united what is left of us,” suddenly she took a knee before her, “I pledge you my bow and protection, my En.”

The ritual rippled through the crowd, each of the women in the crowd dropping to one knee and almost shouting the oath.

For a moment nothing moved, Dani’s gaze skated over the scene before her “And damned to you Amethyst” she roared in her head. Taking a long breath she allowed her eyes to lose some of their heat.

“It is I that usually leave no choice in these matters,” Poet shifted for a time, everyone in the clearing seemingly holding their breaths “But it appears that this time, it is you all that have left me with little. I will take the title as your En, all of your pledges and lives I take as my responsibility to protect and honour.” She halted for a moment, before continuing. “Sa’ng Suri is born tonight, my blood is this tribe and you are my blood. I am Sa’ng Suri! The blood and life of it!”

A roar spread though the crowd, a cheer, and a chorus of, “We are Sa’ng Suri!”

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The Sa’ng Suri – Kalana

A sunburst climbed over the mountains, black silellots dotted the cliff face, all that could be seen bows in hand with two standing along at the head of the pack. One of the two swept a hand out high above her head and then down. With a single movement the dots became one for a moment and then disappeared leaving the two lone figured pasted against the suns brilliant back drop.

Howls filled the air, a swelling mixture of war cries and shrieking death as carrions began to gather in the high branches. Smoke carried along the lines of the forest obscuring the pair of the cliff top for a moment. Ama’s lips curled in a smile as she waved her own arm forwards, the wemon lining the tree branches around her beginning their decent, bow fletching snapping to cheeks, the feathered arrows whistling though the air as the volley begins to claim the lives of the small camp below them.

Dropping from the trees, the Sa’ng Suri scouts enveloped the small party of men in a cloud of death and confusion, the soft leather boots all meeting the forest floor at once to draw short spears and begin their dance with the few men still crawling for weapons or managing to survive the rain of arrows. The women worked with an old skill of killing working between the tents spear heads dipping into the bodies of any that could be reached, in minutes no noise but the screech of the carrions could be heard, the shadows on the cliffs gone.

Ama turned waving a hand and the scouts started melding away into the growth of the forest, a pile of bodies the only evidence of their existence here today. A long horn broke the silence of the wood.

Ama heading for the booming noise the soft swishing of boots running though brush beside her told her that all of the tribe where on their way, with a last push she broke though the underbrush into a small clearing, standing there in the middle, two women. One with a long black tail creeping along her back her hand closed around a pole supporting the banner of the Sa’ng Suri and the other a stern looking woman with short cropped gray hair, her blue gaze noting and ticking off each of the taluna that broke into the clearing.

“Was it done well” Dani’s eyes never left from their counting but Ama knew the comment was meant for her.

“Yes En, all dead, no losses. My forward scouts tell me that is the last of the holding parties here”

Dani’s head inclined a little to show she heard that ever counting gaze skimming along the lines, suddenly a group broke free of the trees between them seemingly dragging a woman by the arms, a long red gash seemed to divide her midriff. Dani’s voice rose only enough to be heard over the commotion “Soph, you are required”

A small red headed woman broke the lines, a green hemp back bouncing on her rump as she cut a bee-line towards the group, Dani stepped forwards the taluna breaking aside as she moved towards the collection.

“Break apart, give Soph room” Dani’s voice did not change with the circum stance she simply took a knee beside Soph looking down at the woman laying sprawled on the ground.

“This is not something I can fix my En” Sophs hands ran over the wound grimacing at each long slash carving along her ribs, Dani’s head inclined again giving the smallest of nods, she took the womans hand in her own fixing her with a rare smile.

“You were braver than any I have seen before Dragonfly, you were born to lead our tribe into battle and today you won this battle without risking one of them, go to the clearing at the end of your path and take your rightful place in the histories”

The woman sprawled on the grounds lips gave the smallest of twitches as her chest rose and fell for the last. Dani gave a long sigh as she stood turning to face the collection of onlookers.

“Sa’ng Suri!” Dani’s voice cut the commotion to dead silence “Dragonfly, Our first bow has been killed in defence of her tribe… Of our lives. She died in the last fight securing these lands. We will now enter a time of morning.” Dani stepped forwards into the crowd Soph hot at her heels

“Soph, please see a pillar is prepared, we will give her body to the flames. Ama see the tribe is given make ups to wear for the dance and have a slave sent to prepare mine and poets dress for the dance”

Dani foot step stopped dead as her eyes widened a little, Ama’s bow shot into her hand voice already high and issuing orders “Scouts into the trees! Our En is under attack”

Dropping to a knee Dani scoops the dagger free from the ground turning the hilt over and over in her hand, a wry grin covers her face taking in the distinct engravings. A dagger only two women have ever held.

“Ama, call your scouts back, I am not under attack” Dani stepped forward as she spoke her eyes scanning the tree line.

“You never did guard the most obvious places Dani!” the voice thundered from the tree’s to the left of her, a cluster of bows swung that way arrows straining in strings.

“Enough! Bows down!” The order dropped bows all over the gathering, the few looking at each other in confusion.

Dani’s voice rose once more directed at the tree line “If you would Morene come and see me in my hut… Your being alive is somewhat of a surprise to me”

 

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Wanted List

The following persons are wanted for Goat rustling and other crimes, as listed, in the Village of Kerling Fjord and mountains of Srimgar. 

WANTED ALIVE – A women described as being for ever hungry with a taste for Bosk meat, fully described as BRATZ NEOX wanted for theft and stalking in the Srimgar region. REWARD Leg of Bosk

WANTED ALIVE – A women described as being nearly attractive  fully discribed PATTYJESS DAGGER for theft and fire setting of private property of Free in Srimgar. Homestone unknown, last seen in Srimgar and Skerry of Einar. REWARD Bag of salt and  barrel of Carrotts

WANTED IN ANY STATE – A male of pock marked looks, bad breath and small equipment described in detail as CAINE AH for rape and attempted rape. Last seen in fields of Cardonicus. REWARD Two barrals Paga and sack of ground meat and bones suitable for pig feed (added 0111)

WANTED ALIVE – A huntress of chubby build, sly eyes and crafty demeanor, often to be found sneaking about going by the name of Cali fully described as CALIEGH CERISE. Believed to be a sister of the SSH tribe of Jorts. Wanted for attempted incitement of hostilities against the Goat Herders Guild of Srimgar. REWARD; Goat skin and kid goat water carrier (added 0111)

WANTED ALIVE – A male of imposing build and gruff countenance described as  ADAMMAIR SABERTOOTH last seen fighting from the battlements of Midgaard Village. Wanted for attempted entrapment and kidnap near the docks at Kerling Fjord, Srimgar. REWARD; 5 gold tarns (added 1210)

WANTED ALIVE – A female of slight build, nimble on feet, possibly a bond going by the name of Pip, more fully described as ‘PENNY PERETZ’. Was at some time collared to Sa Nahele tribe but is believed to presently reside at Midgaard. Wanted for aiding and abetting the above male in entrapment and kidnap REWARD; Pouch of Kanda and 50% of any compensation paid by last Master/Mistress (added 1210)

NEWS OF THE CAPTURE OF THESE PERSONS SHOULD BE LEFT AT THE MARKET PLACE KERLING FJORD. Information aiding in the capture of one of the wanted will be rewarded with 3 copper Tarn

SEND NC TO; Squeek Veeper (rp Squeek. FW) or Saphira Ishtari (rp Kaiila. Bond) to arrange rp with.

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source: sa’ng suri talunas

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So, today I did my first mud run with my partner… I don’t even know what compelled me to come up with this idea, I don’t run or even workout for that matter, but I decided to do a 4 km run through the woods near our neighbourhood. On a side note everyone that knows me knows I’m a klutz, if there is a way to fall I do, actually I am the one that falls as we are walking to the bar and I am sober! But back to my story, so I went out last night like a normal young woman does on a Saturday night, and got pretty drunk, so drunk that I was still drunk when I started this run at 10 am this morning, no worries jumping in a cold river sobers you up real quick! With in the first five minutes of this run, I fall flat on my but after attempting to run down a muddy hill, On the way down I try to grab a branch in an attempt to save myself from the fall..  OHHH… that hurt….I dont think I’m fit to be a panther girl in real life !  XO

John Norman is best known as the author of nearly 30 novels about Gor, a primitive planet where heroism rubs shoulders with male domination. But when we found out he was also a philosophy professor, we had to know more.

Since 1966, Norman has been writing the Gor books, a “sword and planet” series along the lines of John Carter of Mars. In the Gor books, a British professor named Tarl Cabot travels to another planet, where the gravity is lower and life is primitive. Meanwhile, Norman has been teaching for decades at Queens College CUNY, under his birth name, John Lange.

A major feature of the Gor books is their lengthy descriptions of men enslaving women, and the suggestion that female slavery is in some sense a natural order. The controversy over this stance has led to Norman being disinvited as a participant at one WorldCon, but it has also sparked a huge “Gorean” subculture — especially in online forums such as Second Life, which have a huge Gorean community. There were two Gor movies, the second of which appeared on Mystery Science Theater 3000.

We were curious to find out more about how a philosophy professor came to write one of the most controversial science fiction book series of all time, so we sent him some questions. Here’s what he told us.

What was it like, growing up in the Depression? And how did that experience shape your views about the nature of society and the individual?

As the family legend has it, when my father’s company slashed its employee list, he was the last fellow retained, namely, the cut-off started with the next fellow. For example, if there were one hundred on the list, and half were released, and we were counting up from the bottom, he would have been number fifty-one. My wife’s father was not so lucky, and he, apparently, was reduced to picking apples, when they were ready to be picked, and such. The common supper, I gather, was beans. Clearly the Depression, the great depression, with its dislocations, hardships, low salaries, something like a thousand dollars a year, or so, and massive unemployment, something like 20 percent, was a difficult time for a great many people and much of the country. On the other hand, the Depression was not a terrible time for the 80 percent or so who had work, because the prices were correspondingly low. In this way, as father had a job, I, as a boy, and like most people, did not have a first-hand experience of the worst aspects of the Depression. Interestingly, many “veterans” of the times, even those who knew hardship, risk, and scarcity, look back on them with nostalgia, even satisfaction and pride. They tend to see them less as debasing and crushing than as meaningful and challenging. Life was tough, hard, and such, but, too, they did not give up; they stuck it out, they cared for one another, they worked, as they could, they kept their families together, they survived. In some respects, I think it was a good time to grow up, a hard time, but a good time. Statistically, despite all the poverty, there was very little crime during the Depression, and there was, I think, a stabler ethos, and a more coherent moral consensus then than now. The country was less politicized, less Balkanized, less mercenary and competitive, less confused and disordered, than now. In a general answer to your question, I would suppose the times would affect individuals variously. Personally, I am pleased to have had the experience of growing up when I did; it was, in its way, to quote Dickens, “the best of times and the worst of times,” and certainly a times unlike most other times. Consider what it might have been to grow up on the frontier, or in the time of the Declaration of Independence, and such. Special times, times not like others. I gathered that society, ideally, consisted of decent, honest, hard-working, self-reliant individuals, civil and neighborly, not sheep in need of a shepherd, appropriately to be hemmed in within the fences of the state, herds of the state, to be pampered, sheared, or butchered as the state might please. The individual, in my view, however perilously today, and despite obvious risks, should be independent, and think for himself. This will win you no awards, and will generate hatred, and such, but there will always be someone who will understand. And even if there is no one else who understands, ever, it is enough that you yourself understand. That is enough.

When did you become interested in science fiction and fantasy? What were the authors you first got interested in, and how did you get involved in fandom?

I have no idea when I first became interested in science fiction and fantasy. That is a long time ago. Big Little Books, for example, the Flash Gordon books, and various comic books, for example, Buck Rogers, are doubtless in there somewhere. The Flash Gordon serials at the local theater on a Saturday afternoon were wonderful. I can remember Tarzan books by Burroughs, but I do not think I knew about his various science-fiction works until many years later. I used to enjoy reading Planet Stories, an adventure pulp magazine. That is probably an embarrassment to more sophisticated science-fiction aficionados, but I nonetheless remain calm. John Norman can get away with that. Everyone knows what he is like. Such an admission on his part, as opposed to one on the part of others, is unlikely to jeopardize future sales, invitations to parties, and such. As Sam Moskowitz once said about the pulps, the stories had beginnings, middles, and ends, and heroes and heroines. And, as far as I can tell, there is nothing wrong with that. A French auteur was once asked, supposedly, if he thought stories should have beginnings, middles, and ends, and his response was, “Yes, but not necessarily in that order.” I think the pulps will always hold a place in the hearts of many. My favorite author there, I think, was Emmett McDowell, whom many folks may not remember. Naturally I read H. G. Wells, Heinlein, and Bradbury. I do not remember how I became involved in fandom, but it was undoubtedly a result of being invited to participate in one convention or another. For several years I attended, and participated in, a number of conventions. Then, it seems, a tectonic shift took place in the geology of science fiction. For example, despite millions of sales, I was not permitted to participate in the World Con given in Philadelphia in the year 2000. As my wife nicely put it, “In Philadelphia the Liberty Bell does not ring.” In any event, changes take place, monothink blossoms, orthodoxies must not be threatened, political solidarity must be maintained, censorship is great, when we do it, and so on. I have not been invited to conventions for years now, which certainly shows me, and perhaps other writers, as well, who might be astute enough to pick up the signals. If we can do this to John Norman think what we could do to you. I guess it is a matter of failing to subscribe to the Disciples’ Creed. At any rate, I am no longer interested, in any event, in attending conventions. I wish them well, and I hope, someday, they may become again what once they were, theaters in which a thousand flags may be flown, and a thousand voices heard, authentic science-fiction conventions, not church meetings, not political-party conventions.

In your 1970 book, The Cognitivity Paradox, you seem to be trying to call into question the “truth value” of philosophical premises as a whole – and by implication, the whole field of philosophy. What sort of response did this book receive within the field?

How very nice that you are familiar with the Cognitivity Paradox book!

Philosophical questions, once one gets beyond questions of food, shelter, drinking water, Susan’s availability, and such, are the most important questions that a human being can ask. They are inevitable, recurrent, and persistent. Further, like many other important questions, they are unamenable to quantitative resolution. We cannot resolve them by measuring and weighing, looking and counting, and such. Yardsticks and scales, microscopes and telescopes, cyclotrons and electrostatic grids, are unavailing. It is not obvious that any of the usual sorts of truth theories, for example, correspondence, coherence, and pragmatic, at least as usually understood, will suffice for resolving questions of philosophical truth, should it exist. Accordingly, the book addresses itself to the possibility of philosophical truth, whether or not it is possible, what it might be, if possible, or what it could acceptably be taken to be, if we wish to sustain claims of its truth, and so on. It is my impression that the philosophical community did not know much what to do with such a book. Philosophers pride themselves on looking into assumptions and presuppositions, but they seem unwilling to look into their own. It is much easier to continue on with “business as usual.” I think Nietzsche put it nicely, when he noted that anyone can have the courage of his convictions. That is easy and cheap. What requires real courage is an attack on one’s convictions. I am less dramatic than Nietzsche here, of course. I was not really asking my colleagues to attack their own convictions, but, so to speak, to look and see what they might be, or whether there are any there or not.

How were you influenced by authors like Edgar Rice Burroughs and Robert E. Howard? And how did you feel like your works were able to expand on these influences? What inspired you, in particular, about these types of heroic narratives?

I think, pretty clearly, the three major influences on my work are Homer, Freud, and Nietzsche. Interestingly, however obvious this influence might be, few, if any, critics, commentators, or such, have called attention to it. Perhaps it is so obvious that it is simply taken for granted. In Homer you have the primitive, hardy, aristocratic warrior ethos; in Nietzsche you have the rank, distance, and hierarchy, concern with the etiology of belief, the trenchant culture criticism, and such; and, in Freud, of course, you have the depth psychology, and a sense of the radical centrality of sex to the human condition.

As a boy, as I recall, I read some of the Tarzan books. If I was influenced by them, I shall hope it was benignly. Certainly I have an affection for Edgar Rice Burroughs, and his work. I think he was a wonderful man, and had one of the great imaginations with which our species has been blessed. As mentioned, too, I was not familiar with his other work, or at least I think not, until I was an adult, fully employed, teaching, in a college, and such. I think I was doing research at Berkeley, on a fellowship, or such, when the Burroughs “explosion” took place, and a number of his works, the copyrights supposedly having expired, struck the paperback market. I think, as it turned out, the copyrights had actually been renewed on the original magazine publications of some of the work, which presented, as I recall, some touchy legal concerns. As I recall, I was particularly impressed with several of his series, and, doubtless, in particular, with the Martian series. Given my earlier reading in Planet Stories, and such, you can see how that might be. As before, if I have been influenced by Burroughs, I shall hope that the influence has been benign, and has redounded to the benefit of a wonderful genre of literature.

Two remarks are probably in order now. First, Burroughs, I would suppose, had his own influences, which is natural and to be expected, and, certainly, did not invent the genre in which he reveled, and which he did so much to distinguish, nor, obviously, does he own it. Adventure fantasy does not belong to any particular human being, unless perhaps to the author, or authors, of the Gilgamesh epic, and his, or their, copyright would presumably have expired by now. Second, one may simply read Burroughs, and read my work. It seems very clear to me, and to most people, that the two corpuses, for better or for worse, are considerably different. The test is simple. Go, read. I have read some Robert E. Howard, as I recall. And, once again, if there is any influence there, I would hope it would turn out to be benign. Writing springs out of a human life, and a vision of the world, and there are thousands of influences, over the years, which contribute to the nature of any given individual, whether a writer or not. All in all, it would be very difficult for a writer to comment illuminatingly on this sort of thing.

There is at least one thing here I would like to credit to Mr. Burroughs, and that has little to do with what he did, but more with how he did it. He, in an era of snobbery, style, pomposity, arrogant sophistication, and such, had the courage to deal honestly and directly, boldly, movingly, straightforwardly, with simple, primitive feelings and emotions. To put it disparagingly, he had the “courage to be corny,” or to put it less disparagingly, and as I would rather put it, he had the “courage to write with spirit and heart, without apology, letting the chips fall where they might.” Did he not touch the hero and the heroine, the warrior and the princess, the scribe and the poet, in us all? He seems to have occasionally felt diffident about the quality of his own work. He is entitled to his views, of course, but I find that a bit sad. He will be read generation after generation, after generation, while one crop after another of the witty and disdainful, the shallow and clever, the polished and sophisticated, the celebrated winners of prizes, and such, comes and goes. People feel, life feels. He felt. We are grateful, and feel, too.

In your new book, The Philosophy of Historiography, you say that Nietzsche’s attempt to create a new human ideal to replace God in people’s hearts has been widely misunderstood. How do you feel this misunderstanding has happened? Also, people frequently describe Gor as a Nietzschean society – what do you think Nietzsche would make of Gor were he to visit there? What do you think of the popularity of Nietzsche among young philosophers and some post-modern theorists?

In Nietzsche, the expression is ‘Übermensch‘, which might be translated variously. A common translation today would be ‘Overman’. It might also be understood as a higher person, a superior person, an ideal as to what a human being might be, a comprehensible ideal toward which a human being might aspire, and such. The term is not original with Nietzsche. It occurs in Goethe, and even in Greek, as ‘Hyperanthropos’.

Briefly, the background here has to do with Nietzsche’s apprehension of what social consequences might follow from a general loss of belief in the existence of a divine entity, one which, supposedly, constituted a foundation for, and an enforcer of, moral rules, and such. It was presumably one thing for “intellectuals,” the cognitive elite, and so on, disengaged from the masses, conversing privately amongst themselves, to reject the existence of such an entity and quite another for a general population, whose morality might be motivated primarily by greed, fear, and other prudential concerns, for example, avoiding punishment and accessing rewards.

“God is dead,” of course, does not have the implication that God was ever alive, in any serious sense. If gods are immortal, presumably they will never get around to dying, say, of divine measles, or such, but they might be forgotten about. For example, who remembers Khnum, the god of the first cataract of the Nile? Accordingly, “God is dead” would be a lovely, poetic, but harrowing, metaphor for the loss of belief in a divine entity. If this was a belief in that which was “holiest and mightiest,” a belief which, in effect, shaped and stabilized a society, one might well concern oneself with the consequences of its disappearance. Might this not “unchain the earth from its sun”? Might not “night begin to close in upon us?” Would we not be straying “as through an infinite nothing?” Assuming that most human beings want to have something to live in terms of, something to, so to speak, “worship,” it is natural to speculate what might be likely to fill the ensuing spiritual vacuum. Nietzsche seemed to fear, plausibly enough, that the most likely candidate for ascending the empty throne, for inserting itself into this colossal spiritual vacancy would be an idol, a particular idol, a “new idol,” namely, the state. It seems to be against the background of these two considerations, the loss of a traditional belief and the supposed need for a new belief, which might well be as monstrous as the state, that one might understand the proposal of a new ideal, not to be worshipped or petitioned, but to be a summons to a higher order of being, rather like a mariner’s star which might serve as a beacon, in the light of which one might conduct one’s life, without hoping to reach it.

I think it is quite clear in Nietzsche that the Übermensch is not intended biologically. The word is always used in the singular, never as though there could be more than one. It would be absurd to say, for example, that the Übermensch had blond hair and blue eyes, or brown hair and brown eyes, that he was six feet tall and weighed one hundred and eighty pounds, that he was whiz at math, that he wears size-ten shoes, that you had his autograph, that you had loaned him fifteen dollars, and such. An ideal is involved, not a prediction. The most fit species, given evolution, would seem to be the termite, the crocodile, the shark, and such. Nietzsche, like most 19th Century intellectuals, did believe in eugenics, and he did speculate on the possibility of producing a “master race,” bringing together the finest specimens of all races, ethnicities, and backgrounds, but this is clearly independent of, and separated from, references to the Übermensch. I think the best interpretation of the concept is in terms of a higher self, one forever unattainable. There seems to be a clue to this in his “Schopenhauer as Educator,” one of the essays in his Untimely Meditations (Unzeitgemässe Betrachtungen), where we hear “…for your true nature lies, not hidden deep within you, but immeasurably high above you, or at least above that which you normally take to be yourself.”

In the light of the foregoing, I think it is reasonably clear that an interpretation of the Übermensch in terms of a particular biological entity, or entities, for example, crossing borders, firing machine guns, marching into Paris, dropping bombs, and such, Aryan “supermen,” or whatever, is mistaken. Nietzsche hated the state, authority, force, regimentation; and superstition; he favored finding one’s own way, intellectual diversity, and creativity. As has often been pointed out, it seems likely that if he had been alive during the time of Hitler, he would have been one of the first to be sent to a concentration camp. I think the common misunderstanding of Nietzsche is largely due to his illegitimate appropriation by the National Socialists, who were looking about for intellectuals, and the propaganda of the allies, who were eager to challenge and exploit the foregoing misappropriation.

I am not sure what a Nietzshean society would be like, as he seems to me an anarchist at heart. He did value virility, and somehow failed to believe that women were identical with men. He seems to have thought they were quite different, and very interesting. I have no idea what Nietzsche would think, were he to visit Gor. As a classics scholar I suspect he would find it fascinating.

I did not realize that Nietzsche was popular amongst young philosophers and post-modern theorists. I accept this information, however, with equanimity. He is clearly an unusual and wonderful philosophical voice, one trenchant, insightful, lyrical, poetic, and powerful. He is pretty clearly a major philosopher of the 19th Century and, if we allow philosophy to have important things to say, if we allow it to make a difference in the world, then he is pretty clearly the greatest philosopher of the 19th Century, and, in the “life sense,” one of the greatest of all time. He concerns himself with big things, and speaks well, as opposed to the usual philosophical values of concerning oneself with little things and speaking poorly. One wishes there were more like him. Perhaps some like him as an antidote to statism, authoritarianism, collectivism, redistributionism, egalitarianism, the poisons of monothink, the stultifying demands of political conformity, and such. I am sure he would lose out on promotions today, and could forget tenure.

Why do you think the Gor books are experiencing so much lasting popularity? Do you think there are younger audiences who are just discovering these books afresh? Do you think they speak to a 21st Century audience the same way they did to a 20th Century one?

The Gor books are not mere science fiction or adventure fantasy. They are also intellectual, philosophical, and psychological novels. They have a great deal to say, and have been willing to say it. One of their attributes, for better or for worse, is the fact that they examine an alien culture from the inside, seeing it rather as its indigenous populations might see it and understand it, rather than criticize it from the outside. They are, of course, written for a minority audience, highly intelligent, highly sexed adults, both men and women. This limits readership, but, I think, improves its quality. In any event, the reader is respected, not insulted.

I would suppose there are always new readers who discover the books. One hopes so, at any rate. As mentioned above, the books are written for adults; this is not, however, to deny that many young readers are fully capable of reading the books. Many young readers are, in effect, adult readers. Adulthood does not always index to chronology. Some adults are essentially children, and some children are, for most practical purposes, intellectually, and such, adults. I would count anyone who can read the Gorean books intelligently as, for most practical purposes, an adult reader. The real distinction here is not adult/child, but good/not so good.

As the Gorean books deal with human things in a human way, and have to do with human constants, I do not think they are indexed to any particular time or place. One still reads Homer, Herodotus, the Song of Roland, Cervantes, Austen, Dickens, Nietzsche, and so on. I should like to think the books get on well without clocks and dates. It is possible, of course, that particular or local values might differ a bit from time to time. For example, in an age of hatred, censorship, and suppression, they might, in virtue of their integrity and difference, inadvertently play a role which they might not in a more liberated, open time, in which diversity was welcomed and celebrated, and the gates of the literary marketplace were not policed by a narrow, insecure, politically uniform constabulary.

Have you spent any time among the Gorean communities on the internet, such as Second Life? What do you think of the popularity of real-life Gorean slavery among some people in the BDSM community?

No. I am not a computer person. I am, so to speak, still trying to figure out quill pens. I have heard of Second Life, but know very little about it. I have heard that large numbers of my books have been “pirated,” so to speak, and distributed freely in that community. I am disappointed that individuals would do that, if they are doing that. Let us hope that that claim is mistaken. If individuals do care for an author, and his work, it seems to me they should, in respect, refrain from such a practice. Intellectual property is property, after all, as much as a baseball glove or a bicycle.

I know nothing about “real-life Gorean slavery among some people in the BDSM community.” The “BDSM” reference worries me. I dissociate myself from BDSM, at least as I understand it. I may, of course, misunderstand it. I wonder if one would settle merely for “real-life Gorean slavery,” because, as I understand it, BDSM is not Gorean. If something is not beautiful, it is not Gorean. In any event, I am assuming that what is involved here, in any case, is consensual. If a woman chooses to submit herself, voluntarily, to a master, it seems to me that is her business, and his business. She would then, of course, be a slave, and would be treated as a slave. One supposes remarkable fulfillments may occur in such an arrangement. It is, of course, important to treat the slave, however uncompromisingly strict you are with her, however much she might fear you, in a humane way, as one would any other animal. Some men, I gather, dislike women, and enjoy hurting them. That makes no sense to me. Women are wonderful, and precious. It is a delight to own one; why would one hurt her? What would be the point of that, mere sadistic pleasure? I think we might distinguish between, say, S/M sex, or sadomasochistic sex, and M/S sex, or Master/Slave Sex. In a sense they seem opposite. Love is important. It is not to be confused with cruelty. Gratuitous cruelty seems to me uncalled for, and ugly, morally and aesthetically. Too, it seems unworthy of a true master. The point is loving and serving, and owning and mastering, not hurting. To be sure, the slave must understand that if she is not pleasing, she is subject to discipline. She is not to be left in doubt that she is a slave. It is easy to avoid discipline; she need only be obedient, submissive, and found pleasing, wholly, and in all ways. Sometimes a slave may desire to be reassured of her bondage. There are many ways in which the master, if he wishes, may see to this. I have written an entire book, the Imaginative Sex book, in which my views on such matters should be reasonably clear.

Did you watch the 1980s movie adaptations of Gor? Were you involved in them at all? What do you think went wrong?

I had, in theory, a consultancy in connection with the films, and, as I recall, I wrote up something like sixty to eighty single-spaced pages of comments, criticisms, suggestions, grumbles, gasps of astonishment, shrieks of dismay, proposals, and such. As I recall the only change made was in connection with my suggestion that we change one of the character’s names. It was originally ‘Zeno’. In philosophy there are two famous Zenos, one the putative founder of Stoicism, and one the disciple of Parmenides, famed for constructing a series of classical paradoxes, Achilles and the Tortoise, and such. As I am fond of these Zenos I suggested we find another name for the film character. The name was changed from Zeno to Xeno, pronounced the same way. It was nice to have an input.

I am actually quite pleased that the two movies were made. It is very rare, statistically, for an author to be lucky enough to have a movie made in connection with his work, and I had this good fortune twice. I retain an affection for the producer, the crew, the cast, and so on. And might not Rebecca Ferratti have been worth the price of admission by herself? That seems to me quite possible.

At one time I worked for Warner Brothers Motion Pictures, in the great days of Jack L. Warner. As a result of this I probably have a bit better idea than some, at least, of the challenges and difficulties of getting a movie from a book to the screen. This is usually a long and complex process. Moreover, there are likely to be severe constraints involved, many of them having to do with the time available and the costs involved. When one works in Hollywood, it is common to speak of product, properties, the “industry,” and so on. Plato’s Film Studio is very nice, but real films are made in the real world, with real stuff, and real problems.

All in all, then, I am pleased that the two films were made. It would have been even better, of course, if they had had anything to do with my work. It seems to me that that might have been managed.

It is still an open question, to this day, if a real Gorean movie, say, with tarns, tower cities, fleets of lateen-rigged galleys, clashing armies, a genuinely alien culture, and such, might be possible.

One supposes not, for political reasons, if for no other.

Now that you have written over two dozen Gor books, how do you feel your approach to the series has evolved?

I think the approach to the series is pretty much unchanged. One tries to write well, to write honestly, deeply, and attentively. Most real writers will do this.

I have written independently of the market, and the market, astonishingly, came to me.

In a gray, polluted country, where one’s mind is expected to wear a uniform, where acres of books are indistinguishable from one another, where values are engineered, and attitudes are packaged like corn flakes, where a small number of individuals will determine what you may and may not read, something different, that hints at truths you recognize but have been ordered to ignore, is likely to attract attention.

When the Gorean galley came to port, she carried exotic goods and news from remote, surprising lands.

Even if she is driven away, she might not be forgotten.

She has been once to port, and might be remembered. One likes to hear of other lands.

They exist.

I wish you well,

John Norman.

Source: http://io9.com/5783833/john-norman-the-philosopher-who-created-the-barbaric-world-of-gor

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