Published: 3rd July 2023
"Did you hear what's being said on the Grape Vine of late!"
Monthly independent publication with content from all around Gor.
Publisher: Amir Boa Nasrallah (ascendedyetagain)
Editor: Itahshy Sturdy (shyntylene.lauria)
Dear Reader,
We extend our sincerest apologies for the delayed release of this month's issue. Last month proved to be an exceptionally busy period, not just for us but for many others as well. However, we assure you that every submission we received has been thoroughly reviewed and carefully considered for inclusion within this volume.
If your work didn't make it into the previous edition, there's a chance you'll find it featured here. There are challenges of fitting everything into a single issue, but please know that we diligently review and appreciate every piece that comes our way.
We value your opinions and welcome any questions or comments you may have. Feel free to reach out to us; we eagerly await your feedback. Your thoughts and insights are essential to us, and we look forward to hearing from you.
Once again, we apologize for the delay and express our gratitude for your continued support. Let's embark on this reading journey together, celebrating the written word and the diverse voices that enrich our Gor.
Gorean Grape Vine is looking for writers, you can submit your stories, fiction and non-fiction welcome, we want the latest gossip from around Gor, what is happening and where. If you hear it, bring it to us. You can find our mail box in Genesian Port. Once you arrive at the docks, head right as you face the archway leading into the main housing district, head up the stairs by the dress makers and walk along to the Gorean Grape Vine offices. Send a slave to find us and deliver your scroll.
Kiosk's currently located in the following locations:
Brundisium
Genesian Port
Jasmine
Oasis of Two Scimitars
Piedmont Outpost
Port Nykus,
Scanctuary's Rest
Skol
Tarn Ridge
Telnus
Turia
Venna
Vonda
More to be added soon!!
Sincerely,
Your grapes.
Content:
1. Chrysoprase Ibn Yusef, "Slavers Touch"
2. The Traveler, "A Fantastic Journey to the City of Jasmine!"
3. Itah Sturdy, "Genesian Port Celebrates anniversary."
4. Little Big O, "Helpful hints on how to prepare some common Gorean sea foods."
5. A simple kajirus, "Slave vacations in Telnus."
6. Lady Hope Lesley Bygone of Green Cliffs, "Northern Memories," Part II.
7. Lady Black, "Tangled Tale Unraveled," Part II.
8. Varnar the Trader, "Mystery of Venna"
9. Amir Boa Nasrallah, "Tarn Ridge Project"
10. Gossip Wine - Fresh from every field of Gor
Slavers Touch
by Chrysoprase Ibn Yusef
The slavers touch
Back of hand to correct
or tip of whip to make response true.
Sometimes
grabbing hand
to adjust placement of form.
To encourage,
To bring obedience,
To guide and develop one new
unlearned
from small spirited dim and once thinking
self free.
Spawned from benighted lands
to a polished gem
that nests in the hands of a free owns.
That free would desire to own
Master or Mistress because
is a kajira that knows self.
That understands to be good
must be willing.
Must want to serve a free
with all is.
Must be able in time know
what her master or mistress desires
then would give life
to give whatever it is to them.
All from a slavers touch
that brings out inside the kajira
bright flames of spirit,
Steady passions
to serve and unfaltering willingness
to belong to a good owner.
A Fantastic Journey to the City of Jasmine!
by The Traveler
Come along as I share my exciting adventure in the enchanting City of Jasmine! This city stands out from the rest with its unique and captivating features. As soon as I arrived, I was greeted by a grand and splendid atmosphere that left me in awe.
First, let's talk about the inn where I stayed. It was like no other inn I had ever seen! With a lovely terrace outside and cozy tables inside, it provided the perfect spot for relaxation. The rooms were beautifully furnished, offering utmost comfort to all the visitors who wished to embark on the same delightful experience.
The heart of the city is filled with charming small shops, reminiscent of miniature versions of castle buildings. The physicians and scribes have their own little castes, dedicated to serving the community. Meanwhile, the merchants boast an impressive number of mini shops, ready to cater to your every need.
One of the most remarkable aspects of this city is the serene central square. Covered in a delightful canopy of trees, it exudes a calming and inviting ambiance. Adding to its beauty are the pools of water and elegant statues sculpted from pure white stone. It's a sight that truly captivates the senses!
Just like any other major city, you can find various housing arrangements and caste buildings of different sizes. But what truly stole my breath away was the awe-inspiring Keep situated at the city's rear. Encircled by rugged walls and water, it stands tall, accompanied by the caste of warriors. Legend has it that inside the Keep lies the sacred Home Stone of Jasmine. Within those walls, warriors of different ranks can be seen honing their skills, practicing on both inanimate and living targets.
Now, if you're anything like me and find yourself craving a change from the usual gray stone and white walls, you're in luck! Just beyond the city walls, there is a delightful forest area with charming houses that harken back to the olden days. These wooden village cottages are nestled amidst ancient trees, casting cool shadows all around. It is said that this is where the more secretive and mysterious dealings take place.
The City of Jasmine is truly a place of wonder and adventure, offering something for everyone. Come think of, since i wrote this the city was rebuilt. So, pack your bags, embrace the allure of this marvelous city, and let the magic of Jasmine transport you to a world unlike any other! I plan to do just that! Read all about new Jasmine in a month!
Genesian Port Celebrates anniversary.
by Itah Sturdy
In the heart of Genesian Port, the middle of the month came alive with an array of joyous celebrations to mark their anniversary. The atmosphere was brimming with joy as numerous events unfolded, drawing in a multitude of enthusiastic participants.
Amidst the array of happenings, I made a decision to focus on a particular event close to my heart: the slave's captivating showcase. The theme, if memory serves me right, revolved around the seaside, though I stand corrected if mistaken. What amazed me most was the ingenious ideas the slaves brought to life, except for one slightly perplexing entry.
Nevertheless, it was a splendid exhibition of their creativity and resourcefulness.
It's quite likely that a few fishermen from the Port are now scratching their heads, wondering where their missing nets have disappeared to. Little did they know, those very nets were transformed into delightful garments that adorned the slaves. Their hair was exquisitely styled, and attention to detail was evident in the impeccable makeup worn by both the girls and the Kajirus. Yes, you read that right—a male Kajirus even took part, despite being registered as female. But the astute audience swiftly recognized his true gender, acknowledging his portrayal of a mighty Merman. I must say, I couldn't be prouder of Orial's courageous participation.
As if the spectacle wasn't enough, each slave received a prize as a token of appreciation. However, the ultimate honour went to a talented kajira named Esha, who emerged as the deserving winner.
Heartfelt congratulations to Esha for her well-deserved triumph!
And on that note, I've got some thrilling news to share! Brace yourselves for a shocking revelation that's sure to make your jaws drop. Are you ready? Our very own Publisher, none other than Amir, has penned a magnificent poem! Let's take a moment to celebrate this incredible achievement. Congratulations, Amir, you've truly outdone yourself!
We proudly present to you Amir's poem, ready to whisk you away on a poetic adventure like no other. Get cosy, grab a cup of your favourite brew, and let the enchantment unfold before your very eyes. Prepare to be captivated by the words of our talented Publisher!
Amidst the azure depths, a sailor's spirit takes flight,
Guided by the winds, dancing upon waves of liquid light.
The ship, a loyal vessel, ploughs through the Thassa's embrace,
Leaving behind footprints in the waters' mystical space.
Sails unfurled, like wings of dreams, embracing the Vosk's call,
As ancient tales whisper, enticing sailors, one and all.
Mermaids' melodies echo, enchanting hearts and souls,
A symphony of harmony, as the mighty ocean rolls.
With each cresting wave, secrets awaken, untold stories unfold,
Legends and myths intertwine, treasures waiting to be behold.
Sunset hues paint the horizon, caressed by the ocean's embrace,
As seafarers chase the fading light, leaving no trace.
In solitude, amidst the vastness, serenity finds its way,
The sea's eternal rhythm, a companion night and day.
The salt-kissed air fills lungs, invigorating the weary heart,
In this aquatic tapestry, a canvas where dreams start.
Oh, the echoes of the sea, resonating through the ages,
Whispers of voyages past, inked in history's pages.
Beneath the stars, sailors navigate with steadfast devotion,
For the sea, with all its wonders, is their eternal ocean.
Helpful hints on how to prepare some common Gorean sea foods.
by Little Big O.
Gor has a variety of delicious fish. Cosian Wingfish, with its livers, is considered a delicacy. It can either be fried as nuggets or made into a pate. Served with Sa Tarna toast, cut into small squares. Take caution when cleaning this fish, as the 4 poisonous spines on the dorsal fin can kill a person.
Parsit fish is a light, flaky fish which can be roasted in a bag of rence, topped with a dollop of verr butter and some garden herbs. Add sliced red olives. This is a delicacy suited for the high-free man or woman. The heads of this fish sometimes make it into the gruel served to slaves.
A delightful shellfish meal is Sorp. It's common in the Vosk River, and it does manufacture pearls. They can be eaten raw, steamed, or smoked. Even used in a thick fish stew. When serving raw, the Sorp should be contained in its half shell, then placed on a bed of coloured salt. If you instead steam or smoke them, the same serving style can be used, or the shelled Sorp can be served on a platter lined with greens. A stew is done in the traditional footed clay bowl with handles. The hash is meant to be drank from the bowl rather than spooned.
Slave vacations in Telnus.
by a simple kajirus
Let me take you on a little journey to Telnus, the lovely island of Cos. As a simple kajirus, I ventured there today, though I must admit, it was without permission. But hey, sometimes you gotta take a chance and explore, right? I mean, it was either that or get into some serious trouble, and that's not my style.
Turns out, this impromptu adventure of mine turned out to be a fantastic decision. I bumped into a bunch of familiar faces from all over Gor. There was Ubar James and his slave, Kija, both soaking wet from the nearby fountain. They were incredibly friendly and made me feel right at home. As time passed, more and more people joined us, creating a lively gathering of both slaves and free individuals. Oh, by the way, there was even a slave girl there whom I was supposed to breed, as decided by our owners during the last fair. Luckily, neither of them were around. Phew!
But here's where things got a little nerve-wracking for me. Another free woman I've encountered before showed up, and she always makes me a bit anxious. I had to keep my cool and resist the urge to panic and flee. And guess what? I even spotted Mistress Kailla there. She probably didn't remember me, but I definitely remembered her.
Now, let's talk about the beautiful beach and the warm sun. Some people came just to enjoy the sandy shores, soak up the sun, and even collect seashells. If you're looking for a friendly bunch of folks and a delightful place to visit, I highly recommend Telnus. Trust me, it's worth it.
All in all, my little escapade to Telnus was nothing short of amazing. The people there are so welcoming, even to a humble slave like me. It's definitely a place where visitors are embraced with open arms.
P.S.: Dont tell my Master!
Northern Memories, Part II
by Lady Hope Lesley Bygone of Green Cliffs
It is quite obvious, the differences between the peoples of the north, the south, the plains, jungles and sands. Some things are merely subtle differences in tones of flesh or dialect, some are more glaringly obvious such as the lack of veils in the north.
Since having moved to the south, settling into the ways of the city and adapting my appearance to suit the customs where I live - I often find myself wondering why these differences existed at all. Mostly, I found it a shame that a Free Woman was resigned to an existence where her smile was hidden from view. It took me some time to understand the reasons, propriety, modesty, the fear that their beauty would be such that they would be prime targets for Tarnsmen and raiders. This, as a matter of course, made a great deal of sense - for the south, explained to me by a southern woman. But since these are the tales of the north, I shall regale you with my mother's explanation.
My mother, Helva, is a tall curvaceous woman, with long wavy hair the color of copper and gray eyes that rivaled the storm-clouds across the sea - and could level a bond with one glance. Her bearing was proud, precise in her movements, conserving each one for the next. Everything she did, as the companion of the Hold, was done with such precision and forethought, she waisted nothing. But in her telling of stories she was florid and detailed, bringing to life something as simple as a dust mote in the mornings light and turn it into a grand ball of epic proportions, describing even the glow that surrounded the pair that finally joined and danced intimately in a single beam. I lived for these moments, and even today when I go back to visit, you will often find me sitting with her, listening to her tales of the north, of the why, and the mysteries of it all.
When i was still young, or rather, young enough to not know much and old enough to travel beyond our holdings and having returned with my brother from a trade journey, I posed the question of why the women in the south wore so many veils. I am shamed to admit that I even asked if they were perhaps disfigured or horribly ugly - a fact my mother quickly corrected. The following is what she explained to me:
"There are both logical and illogical things in our world, rules and customs that some don't recall their beginnings, or have been changed as time has changed - though Goreans change extremely slowly" she began in that soft, melodic tone she used when she was about to launch into something amazing and epic. I, of course, was at rapt attention and did not interrupt her once - if you ever have been stared down by my mother, you would understand why.
"It is said that the women of the south began to wear veils, particularly those of High Caste, in order to protect themselves from marauders and Tarnsmen, and this may be quite true. In fact, they wear many veils, each having a reason to be laid across her face and hiding her features from view. It is also said that southern women possess extraordinary beauty, and men find it quite difficult to conduct themselves without lust if they were not so veiled. A dear friend of mine, who is from the southern city of Victoria, told me once that she hated them.. and found it a silly practice - she explained they were cumbersome. If one needed to drink or eat, it required the lifting of many veils to do so hidden, if one had to sneeze the results could be catastrophic." At this, my mother's nose wrinkled, though her steel hued eyes danced with merriment. It should be noted that my mother does not carry a strong northern accent as she was raised in Victoria until she returned to the north to be companioned.
"You ask why, I have explained as I know it to be, perhaps there are more customs to it than I should know - but what I do know is why the women of the north do not wear them. The north is cold, the climate such that the constant heated breath through the layers of cloth would render them a mask of ice in short order - of course making it quite difficult to breath. That is the simple answer.. that is the common explanation. The lore of it is that the men of the north, though hale and hardy, rapacious in their desires - also possess the ability to quell their desires around the Free Women of the north because they honor them in a quite different way. As my mother told me, and her mother before her - the women of the north were viewed as pivotal members of a northern community, whether they were the companion of the Hold, or a simple farmer's companion, their voices were heard, their suggestions considered, their command honored. To a degree of course, no woman is above a man, in any regard. But it is the men of the north who are able to refrain from their natural desires and take them out on the bonds that allows the northern woman to remain unveiled. Trust, it is not a lack of beauty that allows this, for just as the women of the south are graced with exquisite beauty, so are those of the north. Be glad that when you return to the north you can have such freedoms. I see women who travel here from the south that quickly realize the folly of being so veiled and in spite of their pride, propriety and modesty, see the value in being allowed to breathe freely."
It was a beautifully simple explanation. Customs, north, south, plains, wagon.. they differ and serve the purposes of those people. In the north, it is not a lack of beauty that allows the women to walk about with their faces exposed, the simplicity of necessity. Having now worn veils for so long, I find myself enjoying the allowed freedom when returning to the north.
Tangled Tale Unraveled, Part II
by Lady Black
Let me share with you a tale of resilience and newfound freedom. In a world where Black was bound by a collar, hope remained her constant companion. But the day of liberation arrived, and Black found herself standing once again within the walls of her home, surrounded by loved ones and fellow slaves. The only hurdle standing between her and the desired freedom was a seemingly simple request from her "master": Flour, Sugar, Salt, and Arrowheads.
Undeterred, Black embarked on a quest to fulfill this task. With determination in her heart, she sought out each item, one by one, leaving no stone unturned. And finally, the moment of liberation drew near as the collar that had restrained her for so long was about to be unlocked.
Just before departing with the gathered supplies, Trent, the man known as Black's owner, observed her with a watchful eye. He revealed that he would soon be leaving Genesian Port, offering a word of caution and advising her to tread carefully, as he would not be there to lend a helping hand in the future. With those parting words, Trent bid his farewell, leaving Black to celebrate the long-awaited freedom that had at last found its way back to her.
In that moment, joy radiated through Black's being as she embraced what had been lost for far too long. This tale is a testament to the indomitable spirit and the power of perseverance, reminding us all that even in the face of adversity, liberation can be found, and freedom can be reclaimed.
A fortnight later, amidst the tranquil beauty of a garden, Black found herself in the presence of the Ubar of the port and his companion. It was here that Black recounted her harrowing tale, which we shall now revisit.
"Once upon a time, many moons ago," Black began, "a merchant named Zabiba sought my attention, whether for business or other purposes. It was during the period when I was courting Tormund. In my holdings, I had a woman named Solid, who, sadly, met her demise in my dungeon less than a week after I met Zabiba. A man named Dit was the sole witness to this heinous act, as he had been knocked unconscious by Zabiba and later woke up to witness the murder of the woman. Solid had been Hal's captive at the time."
Black continued her tale, revealing that some time later, a woman pirate appeared at her gates, proposing a partnership in her brothel. This woman, known as Dean, seemed to be working for none other than Zabiba himself. It was through careful deduction that Black realized Zabiba was a dangerous killer. As the story unfolded, Black revealed how Zabiba had infiltrated their ranks, with William inadvertently swearing him in under their command.
With a deep knowledge of Zabiba's true identity, his various aliases, and his appearance, Black realized the gravity of the situation. Zabiba had even gone so far as to hire mercenaries and killers to abduct her. His ultimate plan was to co-own her brothel, expand his influence, and seek domination over Genesian Port and other surrounding territories. He intended for Black to be a puppet ruler, with him pulling the strings behind the scenes.
Resolute in her refusal, Black recounted how Zabiba resorted to threats and physical violence. He stripped her of her clothing and bound a rope around her neck, acting as a makeshift collar. He nearly choked the life out of her, leaving her voiceless. Yet, despite the pain and peril, Black fought back with every ounce of strength within her.
Zabiba's true intention became clear—eliminating Kade, Collin, and all the officers of the High Caste Warriors, so that Black could be thrust into a position of power under his control. Determined to prevent this catastrophe, Black mustered the strength to call him out during a meeting, though the pain in her throat was excruciating. Her cry served as a plea for investigation, an urgent plea to halt Zabiba before he claimed any more victims.
With her voice barely intact, Black demanded that Collin, who had kept her in the collar for longer than necessary, explain his actions. To her dismay, Collin had his own agenda, attempting to acquire Black's fleets from Trent. This led to a period of confinement in the collar, prolonging her suffering. Adding to the frustration, Zabiba took his own life, leaving behind a sword falsely attributed to William, resulting in Black being cast aside and locked in the kennel.
In her impassioned plea, Black questioned why she received such treatment after risking everything to save the lives of everyone present. The gratitude she anticipated was replaced by betrayal and disbelief. The weight of her sacrifice hung heavily in the air, begging for answers that seemed elusive.
The Ubar remained steadfast, expressing no regrets for his actions. While addressing Black, he asserted that he would make the same choice again, emphasizing that it was done for the sake of the port and its people. It became apparent to Black that she had become entangled in a political war, a realization that fueled her fury. Venting her frustrations, she vowed to make different choices in the future, prioritizing her own well-being rather than saving those who had manipulated her for their own gain. With determination in her eyes, she departed, setting her sights on the office of High Magistrate William.
Upon reaching the office, Black confronted the High Magistrate, ready to lay bare her grievances. In response, William recounted the events that had unfolded, pointing out Black's presence in Port Kar, her subsequent capture, and her sale to a warrior within the port. He addressed her claim that the warrior was an assassin who had paraded her around on a leash before the entire city, highlighting the subsequent arrest and intended torture. The warrior had chosen an easier way out, leaving Black in protective custody in case any of his associates sought revenge. As for the duration of her stay, William redirected her inquiries to Collin, suggesting that he might have taken pleasure in having her under his control. The High Magistrate continued, insinuating that Black's capture and placement into the hands of the very man she claimed to be protecting the port from were all part of her own plan—an aspect she conveniently omitted in her article for the grapevine.
Here, dear reader, I must pause to acknowledge that our publication is honored to have the High Magistrate of Genesian Port among our readership. But let us return to the story at hand!
It is important to note that a slave at the powerful man's feet interjected, offended by the manner in which Black, a free woman, addressed a free man. Such an action could have sealed her fate, but we all know that Black did not seek out the office of the High Magistrate for this purpose. Otherwise, the man would have found himself a few coins richer. As Black repeated the information she had already shared with the Ubar, she also offered the High Magistrate a few pieces of advice regarding his practices. In response, the magistrate continually reiterated that his actions were carried out under the Ubar's orders.
At this point, you may wonder why we take the risk of presenting these revelations to you, dear reader. The reason is simple—to demonstrate that everyone has their own truth. Each individual's notion of honor differs, as do their duties to their respective home stones. Another undeniable truth is that the life of a free woman is perpetually under threat. Yet, a free woman also deserves justice. As Black departed the office, she left behind a resounding message: a grave mistake had been made concerning her, and this mistake would not be forgotten.
And so, dear reader, the plot thickens, with tension mounting and the boundaries of truth and justice becoming increasingly blurred. The path ahead is uncertain, but the unwavering spirit of Black promises an intriguing continuation to this saga.
Mystery of Venna
by Varnar the Trader
Anabella sensed a foreboding shadow falling across her as she approached the door. Stepping into the hallway simultaneously, a familiar man from the city arrived, recognizing the mysterious figure right away. The figure, cloaked in darkness, exchanged greetings with the man, who happened to be the city's commander. Requesting a private conversation with him, the figure cast Anabella aside. Unfazed, she continued on her way, eager to find solace in rest.
The commander of the city and the enigmatic figure retreated to the confines of the meeting room, where the air grew heavy with anticipation. With a tone laced in curiosity, the figure broached a topic that had lingered in the depths of their shared memory.
"When we stood in that ominous court, you or your colleague mentioned a hooded prisoner, one that the torturer called Grinch," inquired the figure, their voice shrouded in intrigue. "Pray tell, what has become of him?"
The commander paused for a moment, his gaze fixed upon the figure before him. Contemplating the details of that fateful encounter, he carefully chose his words. "Ah, yes. It seems there may have been a misunderstanding. The prisoner, in fact, was not hooded. It was the man who graced the court that bore the veiled countenance," he clarified.
A glimmer of realization flickered in the figure's eyes, absorbing this revelation. "So, the prisoner still resides within the confines of our cells?" they inquired further, seeking confirmation.
The commander nodded, his expression grave yet resolute. "Indeed. The prisoner remains imprisoned, awaiting further instructions from the Administrator. The wheels of justice turn slowly, but they shall soon reveal the path that awaits our captive soul."
A twisted smile played beneath the veils that concealed the identity of the dark figure—an infamous free woman hailing from Genesian Port. Her presence exuded an aura of enigmatic power. Acknowledging the commander's response, she relished in the newfound clarity.
"Ah, it all falls into place now," she murmured, her voice laced with a peculiar satisfaction. "I shall not require the assistance of the clansman, for he possesses his own skills. However, have you unearthed any additional intelligence regarding this enigmatic man known as Grinch? Curious name, indeed. Nevertheless, it matters not to me. If the Administrator finds himself incapable of reaching a decisive conclusion, I would gladly relieve you of the burden. After all, your time seems to be accounted for, your agenda brimming with commitments. It would be quite delightful to spend more time in the company of a free companion, would it not?"
The commander contemplated the dark figure's proposition, his countenance a mask devoid of emotion. "Nay, I am afraid we have not gleaned any further information pertaining to this man," he admitted. "But why, pray tell, would this individual hold such interest for you, Lady?" There was a lingering curiosity in his voice, yearning to grasp the motives behind her peculiar request.
Unperturbed, the lady replied, her tone as serene as the calm before a tempest. "As far as my knowledge extends, depending on the Administrator's verdict, his days are undoubtedly numbered. He shall not survive for long, if my intuition serves me correctly."
The dark figure's lips twitched again, betraying a sense of familiarity with the grim companion that death was to her. Unfazed by the prospect of such a fate, she appeared to be well-prepared with contingency plans for any eventuality.
"Indeed, I would never undermine the decisions of your Administrator," she replied, her voice laced with an air of assurance. "If the Administrator deems it fit to punish the prisoner for his audacious attempt to abduct the woman in question, I shall respect his judgment. However, should he choose to spare the man's manhood, I am willing to offer an alternative. I shall gladly take a thrall, a willing participant, for my experiments in exchange. Though a regrettable compromise, I suppose it will suffice."
Her words hung in the air, an intriguing proposition that left the commander contemplating the possibilities. "I shall convey this offer to the Administrator without delay," he responded, his mind racing with the potential outcomes of such a deal.
The figure's gaze seemed to drift momentarily, lost in thoughts of her own. "The sooner the Administrator reaches a decision, the better. Once he does, I can seamlessly transfer the prisoner to my laboratory, sparing you the troubles of the foul smells in the cells, the expenses of feeding him, and the burden of employing slaves for his upkeep. Indeed, prisoners can be an exorbitant drain on the city's resources," she mused, her tone betraying a hint of pragmatism.
The commander sat in quiet contemplation, recognizing the Lady's keen interest in the imprisoned man. He nodded slowly, acknowledging her words that echoed with a merchant's shrewdness when it came to costs and gold. "Indeed, I will speak to the Administrator at the earliest opportunity. He is a busy man, but I shall present your offer to him, Lady," he assured her. "Rest assured, I will inform you once I receive a response. For now, unless there is anything else you wish to discuss, there is little more to add, I presume?"
The dark figure absorbed his words, satisfied with the course of action. "I shall remain at this inn for a while longer, awaiting news from your ruler. In the meantime, I will prepare my fleet and have the prisoner cells thoroughly cleansed before my departure, within the next two days at most. Hopefully, that will provide enough time for a verdict on the man's final days," she stated firmly. A sudden shift in her tone conveyed a heightened assertiveness and an unwavering demand. It was clear that beneath her enigmatic veil, she possessed the qualities of a true leader, much like the Administrator of the city. "Just one request, Commander. Do not squander my time. Time is a valuable currency, and I detest its waste," she added, her voice filled with authority.
Recognizing her determination, the commander nodded in agreement. "Take your well-deserved rest, Commander. You appear weary. I shall see you soon, very soon," The dark figure declared, exuding a conviction that left no room for doubt. With those words, the two figures parted ways, leaving the tranquility of the inn enveloped in a fragile peace. However, beneath the surface, an intricate web of plans and intentions continued to unfurl, threatening to disrupt the delicate equilibrium that had thus far prevailed.
Tarn Ridge Project
by Amir Boa Nasrallah
A month ago, our journalist, whom we'll call J, had the opportunity to interview Moaniq, the head builder of Tarn Ridge, for the Gorean Grape Vine Journal. They discussed the city's upcoming rebuild and other intriguing details. Here's a simplified and engaging reimagining of their conversation:
J: Recently, while standing on the nearby wall with the Ubar, he mentioned ongoing projects by the Builder's Caste. He suggested that I speak with you to learn more about the plans. So, are you involved in the rebuilding process?
B: I can reveal that there are ongoing works and planning for improvements here and there.
J: There's a rumor that once the latest project is complete, there will be a limited number of residential houses available beyond the city walls. Can you confirm if these houses will be within the city or located near the farmlands?
B: With the implementation of a new law, the farmlands will become part of the city, and there are plans for limited residential houses. However, the details are still being worked out.
J: Will the markets be expanded? And what about the relocation of the kennels?
B: We have plans to expand opportunities for merchants to accommodate the city's growth. As for the kennels, their location is still under debate as it needs to fit into the overall design.
J: Let's talk about the bathhouse. I've heard that access is only available through the tavern. Does this mean women either bathe at home or not at all?
B: That's not the case. We have a separate bathhouse for women, located in a secluded and private area. So, the women of the city do not forgo bathing.
J: As a builder, what factors led to the decision to expand? Could it be related to the Ubar's forthcoming companionship or the new Ubara? Or is there another reason?
B: The expansion is a natural consequence of growth and demands in a developing city. It's not related to any upcoming companionship, but rather a result of the city's progress.
J: Will you undertake this project alone or with a team of skilled builders?
B: Currently, I am working alone, but I will require workers, both slaves and free individuals. However, assembling a team has proven to be a challenge.
J: As the leader of the Builder's Caste, what message would you like to share with the residents and visitors of Tarn Ridge?
B: I advise everyone to be prepared for ongoing construction work, repairs, and temporary disruptions. The city may experience closures at different times, but warnings will be issued. People will be informed.
J: You mentioned that the ground will shake. Does this mean a temporary camp will be established outside of Tarn Ridge to accommodate refugees during construction?
B: The primary impact will be on the farmlands, and residents and animals will be provided refuge during the work.
J: Once the construction is complete, will the farm residents have the first opportunity to choose their new homes? Or is there a risk of losing their properties?
B: The farm residents will have the first opportunity to select their new homes before anyone else. However, parts of the city may be temporarily closed, and merchants may need to vacate their stalls and shops. They will likely be the first to choose their new locations once the build is finished, though these decisions are not up to me.
This conversation took place a month ago, and the citizens of Tarn Ridge have already noticed some small changes. We will cover those changes in an upcoming article. In the meantime, we encourage you to visit Tarn Ridge, one of the most beautiful cities, and witness the transformations for yourself.
We express our heartfelt gratitude to Lady Moaniq for her insightful answers and dedicated efforts in spearheading this building project. Her expertise and commitment are invaluable in shaping the future of Tarn Ridge.
Gossip Wine "Oh, my dears, have you heard the scandalous whispers swirling around Gor?"
- Dearest, I simply must share the most captivating tidbit of gossip swirling around the delightful city of Ar! Picture this: a bewitching trial unfolding, centering around a free-spirited lady accused of living a daring double life as an outlaw, gallivanting about town disguised as a dashing young man! Oh, the scandalous whispers that must have danced through the cobblestone streets! And what's more, it appears that this thrilling turn of events has led to the unexpected resignation of a certain lady, her delicate reputation surely left in tatters. Can you fathom the secrets and excitement that must have shrouded the halls of Ar? It's a place where daring escapades and whispered romances bloom, leaving us all breathless with anticipation!
- Darling, have you caught wind of the captivating rumor swirling around the illustrious halls of Turia? It seems the Regent himself and his delightful companion have made a most joyous announcement. Whispers abound, suggesting the arrival of another child or the promise of a burgeoning pregnancy. How intriguing! If the babe is a boy, they shall christen him Alexander, following in the footsteps of a previous child, or so they say. But here's the delightful quandary: should fate bring forth a darling girl, shall she be bestowed the name Alexandra? Oh, the anticipation, my love! Let us extend our heartfelt congratulations to the Regent of Turia and his lady companion, for their journey into parenthood continues to unfold in a most delightful and enigmatic manner!
- Oh, my dearest friend, let me regale you with a tale that has been whispered through the enchanting streets of Brundisium. Do you recall the once captive soul, a woman bound by the chains of slavery? They say her fortunes took a wondrous turn as her beloved master, who also held the esteemed position of Head Magistrate, granted her emancipation, setting her free at long last. Yet, as fate would have it, on that very day, the Magistrate bid farewell to our fair city, leaving us pondering the intricate ties between their intertwined destinies. And what of the Magistrate himself? Ah, the plot thickens! For it is said that the former slave, now liberated, delved into the realm of healing arts, blossoming into a skilled physician of great renown. How astonishing! With each passing day, our curiosity grows, yearning to unravel the secrets that lie behind the Magistrate's departure and the remarkable transformation of this resilient soul
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