The Tale of Tovas and the Beast

       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 

The Tale of Tovas and the Beast

By Arealius the Sailor, a Scribe of Port Olni.

As the Kassau based medium-sized round ship, with its distinctive curved hull and single mast, cut through the choppy waters of the open sea, Arealius Barbosa stood at the bow, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He was a seasoned sailor of the Thassa, with years of experience navigating the coastal waters of the known world. But this voyage had been different. The captain, a grizzled old sailor with a penchant for taking risks, had been at sea for far longer than Arealius had expected.

"Captain, I thought we were bound for the island of Glóðheimr?" Arealius asked, his voice laced with concern.

The captain, a gruff man with a bushy beard, squinted out at the sea. "Aye, we are, lad. But the winds and currents have been against us. We'll make it, don't you worry."

Arealius wasn't convinced. He had sailed the Thassa long enough to know that the captain's navigation seemed...unusual. The stars above didn't seem to match the course the captain claimed they were on, and Arealius had a nagging feeling that they were lost.

As the days turned into weeks, Arealius grew increasingly uneasy. The crew seemed competent enough, but the captain's decisions seemed erratic. Arealius wondered if they would ever reach their destination.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the captain pointed to a small island on the horizon. "Glóðheimr, lad! We'll drop anchor soon and take a small boat ashore."

Arealius's relief was palpable as he gazed out at the island. He was eager to stretch his legs and get some solid ground beneath his feet. As they approached the shore, he spotted the village of Glóðheimr coming into view, with the Tengdur Clan's homestead standing out among the thatched roofs.

As they stepped off the small boat and onto the sandy shore of Glóðheimr, the warm waters and the lushness of the island struck Arealius. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of birdsong filled the air. He couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the vibrant greenery that surrounded him.

"By the Priest-Kings," Arealius exclaimed. "This island is almost tropical. I've seen nothing like it so far north."

Alaric Tengdur, the clan's leader, smiled. "Yes, the warm sea currents that parallel our coast keep the island warm, despite its northern latitude. It's a blessing from the gods, and we're grateful for it."

As they made their way to the village, Arealius's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the Tovaldslanders. Alaric Tengdur greeted them warmly, his chest bare and adorned with heavy tattoos that seemed to dance across his skin. Arealius's eyes darted to the kajirae, one of whom was pregnant, her skin glistening in the sunlight.

Despite the initial shock, Arealius was determined to learn more about this strange and fascinating place. He smiled, nodding at Alaric, and followed him into the long hall, eager to discover the secrets of Glóðheimr.

As they sat down at the table, Alaric asked, "So, scribes, what brings you to our humble village?"

Arealius leaned forward, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "I'm a historian and cartographer, sir. I map the courses of rivers and coastlines, documenting the geography of the world. And Ana here accompanies me in search of rare or valuable scrolls filled with the treasure of past knowledge."

Ana Barbosa nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. "There's nothing quite like the thrill of the hunt for a new scroll or book. The knowledge contained within those pages is like treasure, waiting to be uncovered and shared with the world."

Alaric nodded, intrigued by the scribes' passion. "I see. And what do you hope to find on this island?"

Arealius shrugged. "We're not sure, sir. But we're always on the lookout for new knowledge, fresh stories to tell. Who knows what secrets this island might hold?"

Just as Alaric was about to respond, a commotion erupted outside the hall. A strange creature, resembling a cross between a bosk and a kaillia, had wandered into the village and was now causing chaos, banging on the door and demanding attention.

Tovas Tengdur, a kajira with a quick wit and sharp tongue, charged after the creature, her broom wielded like a mighty battle-axe, swinging wildly as she chased the beast around the hall. Alaric and Arealius ducked and dodged, trying to avoid being buffeted by Tovas' broom, which seemed to have a life of its own.

"By the gods!" Alaric exclaimed, laughing. "Tovas, you're going to knock over the entire hall!"

Arealius joined in, ducking as the broom whizzed past his ear. "And I'm thinking that beast is smarter than we thought! It's leading Tovas on a merry chase!"

Tovas didn't let up, her face set in a determined expression. She swung her broom with all the finesse of a Torvaldsland warrior slinging his battle-axe, except instead of striking fear into the hearts of her enemies, she was more likely to knock over a jar of mead or send a chair flying.

The creature, enjoying the game, darted between the tables and chairs, with Tovas hot on its heels. Alaric and Arealius continued to dodge and weave, trying to avoid getting hit by Tovas' wildly swinging broom.

At one point, Tovas swung her broom so hard that it got stuck in the thatched roof. She tugged and pulled, trying to free it, but it only seemed to get stuck further. Alaric and Arealius couldn't help but burst out laughing at the sight of Tovas, broom stuck in the roof, looking like a furious bird's nest.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the creature was forced outside, and Tovas emerged, panting and flushed, her broom still clutched in her hand. Alaric and Arealius applauded, grinning from ear to ear.

"Bravo, Tovas!" Alaric exclaimed. "You're a true warrior...of the broom!"

Arealius chuckled. "I think you've found your true calling, Tovas. Forget about serving mead, you should be a professional beast-herder!"

Tovas glared at them, still panting. "You think this is funny? That beast nearly drove me mad!"

But Alaric and Arealius just laughed, enjoying the absurdity of the situation. Ana Barbosa smiled, shaking her head. "I think we've found a new story to tell, Ar. 'The Tale of Tovas and the Beast'."

As the evening wore on, filled with laughter and conversation, Arealius's fascination with the creature turned to thoughts of dinner. "By the Priest-Kings, what is that beast?" he exclaimed. "It looks like it would make a fine meal. I bet it would be tender and juicy on a spit."

Ana Barbosa shot him a disapproving look. "Ar, don't be ridiculous. It's far too cute to eat."

But Arealius was undeterred. "Cute?" he repeated. "It's a beast, Ana. A fine piece of meat. I'm sure it would be delicious roasted over an open flame."

As the night drew to a close, Arealius asked Alaric if there was an inn in the village where they could find a room. Alaric smiled and offered them hospitality, inviting them to stay with the Tengdur Clan. As they prepared for bed, Arealius and Ana couldn't help but feel grateful for the warm welcome they had received, and the stories that had been shared around the fire.

Amid the evening's festivities, Drekka Tengdur, Alaric's pregnant kajira, had retreated to the upstairs area, feeling overwhelmed by the commotion. As she looked down at the gathering below, a tear slipped from her eye, and she felt a pang in her stomach. Despite the chaos, the Tengdur Clan's hospitality and warmth had shone through, making Arealius and Ana feel like honored guests.