Dar Kosis
4th Article for the Gazette
Sais, 5th Month, Year 10,174 Contasta Ar
As the sun began its descent, casting a golden hue over the tranquil waters of the Vosk River, Arealius Barbosa, known as Ar the Sailor, stood at the bow of their vessel. The gentle lapping of the river against the hull was a soothing contrast to the unsettling silence that had accompanied their journey from Port Olni. His free companion, the Lady Sorana, or Ana as he affectionately called her, stood beside him, her eyes scanning the horizon. Their servant, Fluer, busied herself with the evening preparations, her vibrant energy a welcome presence amidst the growing tension.
Atuma, the lead sailor, had been right. The lack of boats moving upriver was indeed disturbing. The once bustling waterways were eerily empty, a stark reminder of the devastation they had witnessed in Lara and Vonda. The Dar-Kosis plague had left its mark, and the silence of the river seemed to echo the desolation of those once-great cities.
“We should be nearing Sais,” Atuma remarked, his voice breaking the silence. “The city is known for its grandeur and its temples dedicated to the Priest Kings, surely it has not been abandoned by them. But I fear what we might find there.”
Ar nodded, his thoughts mirroring Atuma’s concerns. The city of Sais, with its luxurious buildings and royal sepulchers, was a beacon of civilization in the northern hemisphere of Gor. Yet, the absence of river traffic hinted at a deeper trouble.
As they rounded a bend in the river, the city of Sais came into view. Its grand architecture stood tall against the backdrop of the setting sun, the intricate carvings and decorations on the buildings catching the light. The sight was both awe-inspiring and foreboding. Sais was unique in that it have literally been carved into the side of a small plateau on the river bank of the Vosk. Warriors found the approaches to the city extreme dangerous to assault.
“Look,” Ana whispered, pointing towards the city’s docks. “There are no boats.”
Indeed, the docks were empty, save for a few abandoned vessels that bobbed listlessly in the water. The usual hustle and bustle of merchants and sailors was conspicuously absent. Ar’s heart sank at the sight.
“We must proceed with caution,” he said, turning to his crew. “We don’t know what awaits us in Sais.”
As they approached the docks, the silence was almost palpable. The city, once vibrant and lively, now seemed shrouded in an uneasy stillness. Ar could see the grand temples in the distance, their spires reaching towards the sky, but there was no sign of life.
“Stay close,” he instructed Ana and Fluer. “And be ready for anything.”
With a final glance at the empty docks, Ar led his companions off the boat and into the city of Sais, their footsteps echoing in the silence. The grandeur of the city was overshadowed by a sense of foreboding, and Ar couldn’t shake the feeling that their journey was about to take a darker turn.
As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the Vosk River, Ar the Sailor guided their vessel to the bank opposite the docks of Sais. The peasant boatmen, under the direction of the seasoned sailors Atuma, Ilfan, and Mamra, began to prepare hasty defenses for their small encampment. The air was thick with the scent of the river and the faint, lingering smell of decay from the abandoned city.
Lady Sorana, or Ana, and their vibrant servant, Fluer, busied themselves with preparing the evening meal. The comforting aroma of cooking food mingled with the cool night air, providing a small sense of normalcy amidst the unsettling silence.
Ar stood at the side of the boat, his eyes fixed on the city of Sais. The grandeur of its architecture was now marred by the weathered yellow flags hanging from the windows of shops and the once-famous Sais Inn. The sight of these flags, symbols of the dreaded Dar-Kosis plague, filled him with a deep sadness. The city, once a beacon of civilization, now stood as a silent testament to the devastation wrought by the disease.
The sailors worked quickly, driving reusable stakes into the ground and setting up oil torches in strategic positions to ward off forest sleen and other predators. The flickering light from the torches cast eerie shadows, adding to the sense of unease that hung over the camp.
Throughout the evening, the peasant boatmen took turns standing watch, their mighty longbows and stout staffs at the ready. The night was filled with the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures, but otherwise, it remained eerily quiet.
Ar, ever vigilant, finally settled down to sleep on the boat itself, alongside his companion Ana and their loyal servant Fluer. Fluer, ever watchful, slept lightly, her senses attuned to any potential threats, ready to protect her mistress at a moment’s notice.
As the night wore on, the small encampment remained on high alert, the flickering torches casting a protective circle of light around them. Ar’s thoughts drifted to the challenges that lay ahead, the uncertainty of what they might find in Sais, and the hope that they would find a way to navigate the dangers that awaited them.
As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, the camp was stirred by the haunting sounds of wailing. The men, conditioned by the perils of their journey, sprang to their feet, weapons at the ready. But Arealius Barbosa, or Ar the Sailor, quickly ordered them to stand down. He recognized the source of the mournful cries.
Across the river, in the dawning light, the docks of Sais revealed pitiful, ghostly shapes. The survivors of the city, now deformed shadows of their former selves, wandered aimlessly. The Dar-Kosis plague had ravaged their bodies and minds, leaving them as mindless, inhuman creatures marred by decay and insanity.
Among them, a figure that Ar believed to have once been a woman waved pitifully. Her hair was patchy, and one of her hands was a mere stump. Her cries were a desperate plea for help, but there was nothing they could do. The sight hastened the peasants to tear down the camp and load the spiked stakes back into the boat.
Ar counted at least a dozen of the afflicted now aimlessly wandering the waterfront. His heart ached with a mix of sorrow and frustration. “Why do the Priest-Kings allow this affliction to exist on our beautiful world?” he wondered aloud. “Why do the men of Gor not fight this as they do every other threat?”
Atuma, ever practical, announced that they were ready to continue. “To the oars, men,” he ordered, and the peasants took their positions.
As they pushed off from the bank, the boat glided silently down the Vosk River, leaving the tragic remnants of Sais behind. The wailing of the afflicted faded into the distance, but the memory of their suffering lingered in the minds of Ar and his companions. The journey ahead was uncertain, but they pressed on, driven by the hope of finding a safer, healthier place further down the river.
Ah, the Gorean City of Sais, a place of grandeur and mystery. I remember it well, as I sailed the seas and heard tales of its splendor. Sais was perched on a plateau beside the riverbank, much like the city of Quebec on Earth. The city was a marvel of engineering and architecture, with its grand buildings and bustling streets.
Access to the formal city was a sight to behold. Mechanical lifts, powered by the ingenuity of Gorean engineers, transported people up and down the steep cliffs. These lifts were a testament to the city’s advanced technology and the skill of its inhabitants.
The city itself was a labyrinth of narrow streets and towering structures. The marketplace was always alive with the sounds of merchants hawking their wares and the chatter of people going about their daily lives. The temples, dedicated to the gods of war and hunting, stood as a testament to the city’s rich cultural heritage.
As I walked through the city, I marveled at the intricate carvings and the grandeur of the buildings. The people of Sais were proud of their city, and it showed in every corner. The riverbank, with its lush greenery and serene waters, provided a peaceful retreat from the hustle and bustle of the city.
Sais was a city of contrasts, where the ancient and the modern coexisted in harmony. It was a place of beauty and wonder, a city that would forever be etched in my memory.
The raid on Sais was a day I won’t soon forget. Sorana and I were caught off guard as the pirates of Port Kar descended upon the city. The alarms rang out, and the streets were filled with chaos. I tried to defend us, but my swordsmanship was no match for the seasoned raiders. Despite our best efforts, we were quickly overpowered and taken captive.
Bound and helpless, we were brought aboard the river boat. I feared for our lives, but fate had a different plan. The leader of the raiders, a man with a keen eye, recognized me. He had seen my harbor charts before and knew of my reputation as a cartographer. This recognition spared us from a grim fate. I was allowed to live, and Sorana was spared the collar, a rare mercy in such dire circumstances.
The raider leader saw an opportunity in our capture. He demanded that I create a detailed nautical harbor chart of a city of interest to the captain of Port Kar. This task required my full attention and skill, while Sorana was to reside with the captain inside the walls of Port Kar.
During her captivity, Sorana’s view of the kajirae, the captain’s slave girls, began to change. Pregnant and vulnerable, she found herself relying on these girls for support and protection. Despite their own hardships, the kajirae provided for Sorana and shielded her from the more malicious members of the crew. They used distraction, misinformation, and avoidance to keep her safe, showing a surprising solidarity and kindness.
Driven by the need to secure Sorana’s freedom, I poured my heart and soul into creating the required map. My work was meticulous and precise, reflecting my deep knowledge and expertise. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the map was completed.
With the map in hand, the captain of Port Kar honored his word. Sorana was released, and we were reunited. Our ordeal had forged a deeper bond between us and had given Sorana a newfound appreciation for the resilience and humanity of the kajirae.
Our adventure in Sais and Port Kar was a testament to our courage and determination, and it left an indelible mark on our lives.
Comments
Post a Comment