(edited August 16th, 2026)
.Stories tie back to Stories on EmmaOfGor.Blogspot.com in particular Steel Worlds Inc by Emma of Gor and Banks of the Bighorn by Tracker, and The Paga Diaries by Arizona Wanderer. The titles in this post link to the stories
Recent Posts:
Zork (1, 2) by Peony D Beckside
The Paga Diaries (49) by Arizona Wanderer
Anthropologist of Gro, Book 1, Preparations (3) by Tracker
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Peony D Beckside
Chapter Three: A Travelling Companion.
In
appreciation of, and with thanks to John Norman for creating the wonderful
world of Gor, in which this story is set.
Chapter One: Introduction
My name is Zork. I am what you puny ones call a Kur, Kurii in plural. Actually my name is longer than that, and much more meaningful. You puny ones however cannot pronounce my full name, your vocal cords and lineaments of your mouths make it impossible. Zork then will have to do.
49. Ubar’s Paga
I stepped into a tavern before going home to Mena. Niketas hadn’t said that I couldn’t go to taverns, just that I couldn’t go yesterday on my way home from the jail. The tavern was dark and the patrons were subdued, speaking to each other in low voices and whispers. Many of them stopped speaking as I walked through the door, looking at me as I sought a place to have paga. I did not see any paga slaves and I went to the paga attendant at the bar. There was a tense energy in this tavern and I decided to leave and go to another.
The walk to Tickling Curlies wasn’t far and I decided to get a drink in its tavern since it was close. This was my second time in the paga section of the large manor and the patrons here seemed subdued as well. I sat on a floor cushion at an empty low table and immediately a large bosomed brunette paga slave kneIt next to me to take my order. Four men at a table next to mine had stopped talking when I sat down. After I ordered and received my paga, they began to speak again. I wondered how many of the patrons here were also staying in rented rooms like me. I wondered if high quality taverns like this one, which offered nice rooms, had a high ratio of guests who were not residents of the city.
Dear Caroline,
How surprised you will be to receive a handwritten letter from me., particularly since I am such a terrible correspondent even with email! You will never guess where I am! I am in the San Francisco Airport, waiting for my British Airways flight back to London. What am I doing in San Francisco, you ask? Well it had to do with Mother and her always asking when I am going to get married and do I have a boyfriend yet.[i]
