The Adventure Begins!
The Expedition Begins, 5th Month, Year 10,174 Contasta Ar
As the first light of dawn broke yesterday over the bustling city of Port Olni, I stood at the helm of our sturdy riverboat, ready to embark on a journey down the majestic Olni River. Beside me, my free companion, Lady Sorana, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and our loyal servant girl, Fleur, busied herself with the final preparations. Our vessel, a broad-beamed knarr, was laden with goods for trade—barrels of wine, sacks of grain, and bundles of fine cloth from our Merchant Caste warehouse.
The knarr, a type of Viking cargo ship, was perfect for our journey. With its shallow draft and clinker-built sides, it could navigate the river’s varying depths with ease. Measuring about 50 feet in length and 15 feet in width, it provided ample space for our cargo and living quarters. The single square sail, complemented by a set of oars manned by peasant freemen from surrounding districts seeking passage or transport of their own goods, supervised by two able sailors of the Merchant Caste, allowed us to harness the river’s current and the occasional breeze.
As we drifted downstream, the cityscape of Port Olni gradually gave way to the serene countryside. The Olni River, believed to be Gor’s second-longest river, carried us gently along its course. Lady Sorana sketched the passing scenery, her delicate hands capturing the essence of the landscape, while I meticulously charted our course along the Olni River. Fleur, ever diligent, prepared our meals and tended to the sailors and oarsmen as we gently rode the river’s current toward the mighty Ubar of Rivers, the Vosk. The river’s edge was a tapestry of flora and fauna—willows and poplars swayed in the breeze, while tabuk and wild sleen roamed the forests.
As I navigated the winding waters of the Olni River, I marveled at the grandeur and diversity of the Gorean wilderness. Our journey took us first to the city of Vonda, in the past a bustling hub of commerce and culture. But no longer, the city was just a ruined reminder of how fast a city can fall and turn to dust on Gor. I had trained under the legendary Master Scribe Jarvis Quan there years ago for service as a merchant magistrate at Port Olni as a young man.
Vonda, situated on the northern bank of the Olni, was known for its strategic location and vibrant markets. The city’s architecture was a blend of imposing stone structures and elegant wooden buildings, reflecting its prosperous trade and rich history. One of the sailors accompanying us noted the constant activity at the docks in the old days, where merchants from various regions exchanged goods, and the air was filled with the sounds of haggling and the scent of exotic produce shipped from other cities along the Vosk and Olni rivers. Like so many cities on Gor, Vonda and others had been inflicted with “Holy Disease” or “Sacred Affliction,” Dar-Kosis, a virulent, wasting disease. Those afflicted with it, often referred to as the “Afflicted Ones,” are shunned and may not enter normal society. The disease is highly contagious and leads to severe physical deterioration and can empty a city within only a few hands. We steered our boat wide of the ruined docks, fearing what may still linger there in the ruins of a once great city.
Continuing our journey downstream, we arrived at the ruined city once known as Lara, a place of serene beauty and refined elegance. Lara, nestled on the southern bank of the Olni, had been renowned for its picturesque landscapes and tranquil atmosphere. The city’s layout had been meticulously planned, with wide, tree-lined avenues and beautifully maintained gardens. As our riverboat glided silently past the ruins of the abandoned city of Lara, I stood at the bow with Lady Sorana, gazing at the crumbling structures that once thrived with life.
“Look at it now,” I said, my voice tinged with a mix of awe and sorrow. “Lara, once a bustling city, now just a shadow of its former self.”
Lady Sorana, her eyes reflecting the melancholy of the scene, nodded. “It is hard to believe that such a place could fall into ruin. What do you think caused its downfall, Ar?”
I sighed, my gaze fixed on the distant remnants of the city’s walls. “Many say it was the Sacred Affliction, Dar-Kosis. The disease spread like wildfire, and the people were forced to abandon their homes to escape its grasp.”
Sorana shuddered at the mention of the dreaded disease. “Dar-Kosis, the Holy Disease. It is feared throughout Gor. But with the advanced medical technology allowed by the Priest-Kings, why does it still plague us?”
I turned to her, my expression thoughtful. “The Sacred Affliction is more than just a disease, Sorana. It is deeply woven into our society’s fabric. The Priest-Kings, for reasons known only to them, allow it to persist. Perhaps it serves as a reminder of our mortality, or maybe it is a form of social control.”
Sorana’s brow furrowed. “But surely, with our knowledge, we could find a cure. Why do we let it continue to devastate our people?”
I shook my head. “The disease is seen as a divine punishment, a holy affliction. Many believe it should not be interfered with by medical means. The stigma and fear surrounding it are so strong that even if a cure existed, people might be too afraid to seek it.”
Sorana sighed, her gaze returning to the ruins. “It is a tragic fate for any city. To be abandoned and forgotten because of a disease that we could potentially cure.”
I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Indeed, it is. But it is also a testament to the resilience of our people. We endure, despite the challenges we face. And perhaps, one day, we will find a way to overcome even the Sacred Affliction.”
As our boat continued down the Olni River, the ruins of Lara slowly faded from view, leaving us to ponder the mysteries and trials of our world.
As we sailed away from Lara, I reflected on the contrasts between the two cities. Vonda’s bustling energy and commercial prowess stood in stark contrast to Lara’s peaceful charm and cultural sophistication. Yet, both cities shared a common thread of pride and resilience, embodying the spirit of Gor. Yet both cities were literally destroyed through ignorance, dogma, and fear of the unknown, the unseen. I wondered, which is more dangerous, the unseen disease itself, or the plainly seen folly of men.
Our journey brought us to a series of small agricultural villages, each a testament to the Gorean way of life. Organized into districts around strong fortified cities, these villages are the heart of the peasant economy. The villagers, clad in simple tunics and cloaks, greeted us warmly, offering fresh produce and stories of their daily lives. The village green, a communal space at the center, was a hive of activity. Small children played, livestock grazed all under the watchful care of the village kajirae. Stout and hearty men and women of the peasant caste supervised the work of their kajirae toiling in the fields, or worked as craftsmen repairing or making the utensils needed within their community with metals provided through trade.
As we continued our journey, the river revealed its many treasures. We passed through the merging of the beautiful Olni with its master, the Vosk. Here the joined rivers widened and the current slowed, allowing us to take in the breathtaking scenery. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the hum of insects. Lady Sorana and Fleur marveled at the diversity of life, their laughter mingling with the sounds of nature. I felt proud to be Gorean. It was good to be Gorean.
As we moved with the current of the mighty Vosk, the landscape began to change. The forests gave way to rolling hills and open plains, and the river’s current quickened. Our knarr, sturdy and reliable, carried us ever closer to our destination. The cargo, carefully stowed and secured, remained intact, a testament to the craftsmanship of our vessel and the skill of our crew.
3rd Article for the Gazette
The Expedition Begins, 5th Month, Year 10,174 Contasta Ar
As the sun began its descent, casting a golden hue over the Vosk River, I, Arealius Barbosa, known to many as Ar the Sailor, stood at the helm of my vessel, the Sea Serpent. The gentle breeze carried the scent of the river and the distant aroma of jasmine flowers, hinting at our imminent arrival at the city of Jasmine.
Beside me stood my beloved companion, the Lady Sorana, whom I affectionately called Ana. Her eyes sparkled with the same adventurous spirit that had drawn us together. Behind us, our loyal servant and friend, Fleur, busied herself with the final preparations for our docking. Despite the hardships we had faced, her cheerful demeanor never wavered.
Our journey had been arduous, marked by the haunting ruins of Vonda and Lara, cities once vibrant but now silent, victims of the dreaded Dar-Kosis, the Holy Disease. The sight of their desolation had cast a shadow over our hearts, but we had pressed on, driven by the promise of new discoveries and the hope of better days.
“Look, Ar,” Ana said, pointing towards the horizon. “The city of Jasmine.”
Indeed, the city came into view, its white walls gleaming in the fading light. Jasmine was known for its beauty and the fragrant flowers that gave the city its name. It was a place of trade and culture, a beacon of hope amidst the turmoil that had gripped the land.
As we approached the docks, the bustling activity of the port became evident. Merchants haggled over prices, sailors unloaded goods, and the air was filled with the sounds of commerce and life. It was a stark contrast to the eerie silence of the ruins we had left behind.
“Prepare to dock!” I called out to the crew. They responded with practiced efficiency, guiding our river boat smoothly into its berth.
Once we were securely moored, I turned to Ana and Fleur. “We have arrived. Let us see what Jasmine has to offer.”
With a sense of anticipation, we disembarked, ready to explore the city and its wonders. The journey had been long and fraught with challenges, but as we stepped onto the docks of Jasmine, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The city awaited us, and with it, new adventures and discoveries.
Our spirits lifted, we ventured into the heart of Jasmine, eager to see what lay ahead.
The City of Jasmine:
The architecture of Jasmine is a testament to the city’s rich cultural heritage and its significance as a center of trade and commerce. The city’s buildings are characterized by their elegant and functional design, blending practicality with aesthetic appeal.
The walls of Jasmine are predominantly white, reflecting the sun’s rays and giving the city a bright and welcoming appearance. The structures are built with a combination of stone and wood, providing both durability and a touch of natural beauty. The roofs are typically sloped, allowing for efficient drainage during the rainy season.
One of the most striking features of Jasmine’s architecture is the intricate carvings and decorations that adorn many of the buildings. These carvings often depict scenes from Gorean mythology and history, showcasing the city’s deep-rooted traditions and cultural pride. The use of vibrant colors in the decorations adds a sense of liveliness and charm to the cityscape.
The streets of Jasmine are wide and well-maintained, facilitating the flow of goods and people. The city’s layout is designed to be both functional and aesthetically pleasing, with open spaces and gardens interspersed among the buildings. These green areas provide a peaceful retreat from the bustling activity of the marketplaces and docks.
As you walk through the city, you’ll notice the presence of grand public buildings, such as the marketplace, temples, and administrative offices. These structures are often larger and more ornate than the residential buildings, reflecting their importance to the community. The marketplace, in particular, is a hub of activity, with merchants from various regions bringing their goods to trade.
Overall, the architecture of Jasmine is a harmonious blend of practicality, beauty, and cultural significance, making it a truly remarkable city on the Vosk River.
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