Hard Landing, Piloting a Tarn

This Gorean Fan Fiction was generated using MetaAI. 
Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world,

customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles.

Gor is Copyrighted by John Norman

Journal of Arealius the Sailor

The Flight of Arealius the Sailor

The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon as I, Arealius the Sailor, known to many as “Ar,” prepared for my journey. My aging draft tarn, affectionately named “Old Girl,” stood ready, her feathers ruffled in the morning breeze. The intricate harness, worn and weathered from countless flights, was securely fastened around her. Today, we would embark on a perilous journey from Port Olni on the upper Olni River to Genesian Port on the coast of Tamber Bay.

As I climbed onto Old Girl’s back, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. The tarn’s powerful wings began to beat, lifting us off the ground with a force that reminded me of a storm at sea. The sensation of flight was exhilarating; the wind rushed past my face, and the ground below quickly became a distant memory.

Old Girl’s flight was smooth and steady, draft tarn are huge compared to their racing or war avian cousins. Her wings cut through the air with precision, and I could feel the subtle vibrations of her muscles working in harmony. The landscape below transformed into a patchwork of greens and blues as we soared above the Olni and Vosk rivers. The once perilous journey by boat, now infested with the dreaded Dar-Kosis, was reduced to mere days of flight.

Dar-Kosis, also known as the Holy Disease, had ravaged the river regions. The Afflicted Ones, shunned by society, had taken refuge in Dar-Kosis pits, isolated from the rest of the world. The fear of infection had led to the abandonment of traditional river routes, making our flight even more crucial. The sight of abandoned villages and empty boats along the riverbanks was a stark reminder of the disease’s impact.

As we flew over the rivers, I couldn’t help but notice the various creatures that inhabited these waters. The large, carnivorous gints swam below, their sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. Giant Vosk sorps, with their massive shells, dotted the riverbed. Occasionally, I spotted the sleek forms of river tharlarions, their reptilian bodies gliding effortlessly through the water. Gorean eels, capable of delivering powerful electric shocks, lurked beneath the surface, while the ever-present threat of Gorean crocodiles kept me vigilant. Even the slow-moving Gorean turtles, harmless yet imposing in size, added to the river’s mystique.

As we approached the midpoint of our journey, Old Girl suddenly veered off course. Her keen eyes had spotted a herd of bosk grazing below. Without warning, she dove into a falcon-like attack, her talons extended and ready to strike. The sudden descent caught me off guard, and despite the harness, I was thrown back and forth like a child's doll while strapped to her back. We tumbled through the air, the world spinning around us, before landing heavily in a heap on the ground.

Dazed but alive, limp I watched strapped to her back as Old Girl feasted on her prey. Her powerful beak tore into the flesh of the bosk, and I couldn’t help but marvel at her strength and agility, even in her old age. After she had her fill, she returned to the sky, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. I clung to her back, grateful for the intricate harness that had saved my life. I much preferred the use of watercraft despite its associated dangers. Tarnsmen are a special breed, I thanked the Priest Kings I was not one of them.

The remainder of our journey was uneventful, and as we approached Genesian Port, I could see the coastline of Tamber Bay stretching out before us. The journey that would have taken weeks by river had been completed in just a few days, thanks to Old Girl. As we descended towards the port, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. We had survived the perilous flight, and I knew that together, Old Girl and I could conquer any challenge that lay ahead.

Genesian Port was a bustling and strategic hub, a vital intersection for various trade routes. The docks were alive with activity, ships constantly arriving and departing, laden with goods from distant lands. The air was filled with the scent of exotic spices, fresh fish, and the salty tang of the sea.

The inhabitants of Genesian Port were as diverse as the goods they traded. Merchants haggled over prices, sailors shared tales of their voyages in the port’s taverns, and artisans crafted goods in their workshops. Slaves performed various tasks, from loading ships to serving in taverns, while warriors stood vigilant, protecting the port from threats. The Initiates, members of the religious caste, oversaw the spiritual well-being of the inhabitants and managed the Dar-Kosis pits, ensuring the Afflicted Ones remained isolated.

Despite the challenges posed by Dar-Kosis, Genesian Port remained a thriving center of commerce and culture, where the old and new worlds of Gor intersected. As Old Girl and I landed, I knew that our journey had only just begun, and together, we would face whatever challenges lay ahead.