The Paga Diaries (52) by Arizona Wanderer

 52.  Melancholia

I spent a sleepless night in Mirus’s guest room, alone with my questioning thoughts.  I have to admit to myself that I am in the grips of melancholy, not being able to shake from my thoughts the current position I am in.  I missed Mena.  It was hard for me to accept that she was gone.  I spent a lot of time thinking about her.  Had she been stolen, or had she escaped?  Was she complicit in the theft?  Did the thieves find nothing to take and left her there alone, where she decided to take the gems they did not find and make it look like they had?  Did she then take the gemstones and gold for herself, leaving the room on her own thinking that the wealth would secure her freedom?  How would a slave that possessed gold make herself free?  Would she obtain robes of concealment to cover her brand and collar, and then use the money to pose as a Free Woman?  She had friends when she was free, would those friends help her now that she was a slave?

Zork (6) by Peony D Beckside

 

Zork

Peony D Beckside

Images by Arizona Wanderer
 
In appreciation of, and with thanks to John Norman for creating the wonderful world of Gor, in which this story is set.

 

 

Chapter Six: The Ferry

 

The female puny one that Cadmus calls Kiki is no longer afraid of me.  Sure I can make her afraid again, but that will make her less efficient in keeping Cadmus and Grunthon happy.  Yes, she would make a lovely meal, but she is the property of Cadmus.  Whilst the concept of ‘ownership’ is different for us, there is dishonour in destroying something that belongs to another unless one is provoking that Kur.

Zork (5) by Peony D Beckside

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The Paga Diaries (51) by Arizona Wanderer

 51. Theft

I met with Atticus after a morning of training with the guardsmen.  I was exhausted after another long grueling session of using the shield and learning to move as a group in a shield wall, pushing against an opposing group of men.  The opposing group did not have shields, and all of us took turns being in the opposing group, simulating an angry aggressive mob.  Once coordinated, the group with shields, stepping in sync, imposed their will on the opposing group, pushing them steadily back.  Atticus told me not all of my mornings would be drilling and sparring; that I would soon be assigned to a squad and assist with foot patrols in the city.

Recommendations

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Anthropologist of Gor, Book 1 Preparations (4)

 

Diary of Dr Claudia Skimmerhorn, Head of Anthropology at Queens College City University of New York
Thursday, Jan 5, 2017.

(for earlier chapters in this story, click the label link Anthropologists of Gor at the bottom of the post)

Antichthon

Oliver and I are waiting in my office for the Zoom call for the final decision on our grant to travel to Gor. I had never been in contact with the Remote Anthropology Foundation before last year when I began research to find funding for a true scientific expedition to Gor. I had heard of them for years of course, a shadowy group that funded expeditions to remote areas, but I had never expected to be needing their funding. Once Oliver and I found Dr John Norman’s language tapes and his method of going to the Antichthon, the planet on the other side of the sun first posited by Aristotle, things changed. Now our proposal, mine really with Oliver tagging along and helping, to actually go to the mysterious planet is before their board.

            I don’t really trust this new communications method of remote meeting, but technological advance on Earth is relentless and unrestrained, and all of us must accept it or fall behind. How different it was on that other planet when I made my solo exploratory ‘proof of concept’ trip. There people of all ranks and castes would stop to gaze at a sunset, watch some birds swoop and dip in the air, exclaim over a lovely bit of carving. Now Oliver and I wait, anxiously, for the meeting to begin.