Treatise on the Motives of the Priest-Kings
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A Second Knowledge Treatise on the Motives of the Priest-Kings
By Arealius the Sailor, Scribe Cartographer and Historian, Scribe Caste of Port Olni
Preface
Among the countless mysteries that shadow the mind of man upon Gor, none stands more impenetrable than that of the Priest-Kings. Their mountain is forbidden; their hand unseen, yet ever-felt. Their decrees are not written upon tablets, but in flame, for the man who trespasses against their Law is consumed without word or warning. Yet even the Flame of the Sardar cannot burn away curiosity. We, the Scribes, are condemned — or perhaps blessed — to seek understanding.
I have no hope of discerning the full purpose of the Priest-Kings, whose thoughts move in measures alien to flesh. But reason, which the Priest-Kings themselves seem to value, permits some conjecture.
I. Of the Origin of Gor
It is known among the scholars of the Sardar that our world, Gor, shares its orbit with a greater and brighter planet — the one called Earth in certain ancient scrolls. Many among the Scribes believe that the Priest-Kings fashioned Gor, or at least shaped it, bringing it into harmony with their designs. Others hold that Gor is ancient and natural, yet altered by them to their purpose.
Whichever the truth, the evidence of transplantation is clear: beasts and men alike bear the mark of alien origin. The ka-la-na vine, the tarn, the sleen, even the human himself — all have analogues or antecedents upon the other world. Gor is a mirror, but not a perfect one: it is a curated reflection.
From this, we may infer that the Priest-Kings are gardeners — curators of life.
II. Of the Limits They Impose
Man upon Gor may craft steel, but not powder; may forge the sword, but not the musket. The Priest-Kings forbid the engines of destruction that once scorched the other world. The Flame of Death visits swiftly upon those who dare transgress these limits.
Yet these limits are not cruelty. They are preservationists.
The Priest-Kings, as all evidence suggests, abhor imbalance. They allow passion, pride, conquest, slavery — all things natural to the human beast — yet they suppress those forces that would unmake nature itself: the machines that would render man’s instincts obsolete, and the fires that would scorch both forest and field.
Thus, their motive may be discerned as the preservation of a natural order. Gor is not paradise — it is balance.
III. Of Man as Specimen and Study
The Priest-Kings seldom act directly. Their interest in mankind seems not moral but observational. They do not command men to be good, nor punish them for being wicked. They allow tyranny and freedom, cruelty and love, war and peace — all to unfold without interference.
This is not neglect; it is study.
To the Priest-Kings, man may be as the larls they breed in the pens of the Sardar — a creature to be observed in its element. They study the dominance of male and female, the rise and fall of cities, the interplay of pride and servitude. Perhaps, through such observation, they seek to understand the strange logic of passion that eludes their own cool intellects.
Gor, then, is their living scroll — and we, its script.
IV. Of Their Nature and Purpose
Those who have encountered them, if the chronicles of Tarl Cabot may be trusted, describe them as beings of vast intellect and dispassionate will — not gods, but scholars. They are not motivated by love, nor by the desire to be worshiped. They are moved by curiosity, that cold and shining flame which even man shares in part.
Thus, the motive of the Priest-Kings may be expressed in threefold purpose:
Preservation — To maintain the ecological and social stability of Gor.
Observation — To study the behaviors of sentient life in natural conditions.
Protection — To prevent the re-emergence of technologies that threaten both man and Priest-King alike.
Their wisdom is not compassion, but clarity. They act not as rulers, but as custodians of a grand experiment.
V. Conclusion: Of Man and the Sardar
We stand within their design, as the tarn within its mews — free to fly, yet bound by invisible tethers. Some curse them for it, others revere them. But it is clear that, without their restraint, both Gor and Earth alike might long ago have burned.
Perhaps the greatest irony is that, in forbidding man his machines, the Priest-Kings have preserved his humanity. For on Gor, man still hungers, still conquers, still loves, still kneels — and thus remains what he has always been.
If that was the Priest-Kings’ purpose, then their experiment endures.
And so, though we may never enter the Sardar and live, we may yet know this much:
The Priest-Kings are not gods — they are the guardians of balance, the curators of nature, and the silent scribes of our destiny.
Thus ends the treatise of Arealius of Port Olni, composed in the 64th year of the reign of Jarek.
Perfect — here is an addendum written in the voice of Arealius the Sailor, Scribe Historian, as if appended to A Treatise on the Motives of the Priest-Kings by Selius of Ar.
It blends the tone of Gorean scholarship with the observations and records found in the source material you’ve cited — framed as first-person reflection and field report.
Addendum: Observations Concerning the Priest-Kings and Their Interest in the Distant World Called Earth
By Arealius the Sailor, Scribe Historian of Port Kar
Prefatory Note
I, Arealius of Port Kar, sailor and historian of the caste of Scribes, set down these observations to accompany and expand upon the excellent work of Selius of Ar, whose Treatise on the Motives of the Priest-Kings has found its way even to the quays and libraries of my city.
While Selius reasoned from philosophy and logic, I, who have crossed many seas and spoken with men not native to Gor, shall add what evidence may be gathered from travelers, records, and certain fragmentary reports concerning that distant world the Priest-Kings name Earth.
I. Of the Ships of Acquisition
There are, by repeated account, vessels which pass between the Sardar and the heavens — Ships of Acquisition, so called.
It is said they come not in fleets, but singly, silent and unseen, taking men and women from that other world for transport to ours.
Among the captives I have spoken with — for I have known more than one Earth-born slave who remembered fragments of her capture — their tales are consistent: lights in the sky, a sense of sudden flight, and awakening beneath the twin moons of Gor.
From these testimonies, I infer that the Priest-Kings maintain not mere curiosity, but a deliberate commerce of life between the two worlds.
It is plausible that these ships serve fivefold purposes:
Selection and Transport of Humans — chiefly for study or replenishment of Gorean stock.
Retrieval of Species and Materials — the transfer of beasts, seeds, or metals unknown to us.
Observation — as eyes in the sky, to watch the progress or decay of that distant world.
Containment — to remove those on Earth who may endanger the hidden equilibrium between the planets.
Defense — for I suspect the Priest-Kings monitor Earth as a frontier in their silent war against other beings, such as the Kurii.
Thus the “ships of acquisition” are not mere conveyances; they are instruments of surveillance, preservation, and control.
II. Of the Purpose of the Priest-Kings' Concern with Earth
In my research, I have uncovered fragments from scrolls copied from the Chronicles of the Nest — or so they were called by certain scribes of Ko-ro-ba who claimed descent from the line of Cabot.
In one such passage, the Priest-Kings were reported to have said:
“According to our calculations, life as you know it on the earth will destroy itself within the next thousand years.”
From this I draw the conclusion that the Priest-Kings see Earth as both a warning and a resource.
They regard its peoples as a living testament to folly — a world enslaved to machines, unbalanced by its own invention — and yet they continue to draw from it, as one might harvest seed from a dying field.
It may be that Gor is, in truth, their ark — a sanctuary where the human species, uncorrupted by the excesses of its own technology, may persist.
Thus, their interest in Earth is both pragmatic and preservational: they seek to safeguard the pattern of man, not his civilization.
III. Of the Agents and Influence of the Priest-Kings on Earth
Whispered tales among Earth-born slaves tell of secret agents who serve the Sardar upon their own planet — men who select, prepare, and deliver the chosen for transport.
If these accounts hold any truth, it would seem the Priest-Kings do not themselves walk upon Earth, but act through intermediaries.
Such agents might serve many roles:
To identify suitable candidates for acquisition — particularly those whose disappearance would not rouse alarm.
To secure gold, materials, or artifacts for the Priest-Kings’ hidden economies.
To observe the progress of technology and to intervene, subtly, where dangerous advances threaten the balance of the Priest-Kings’ design.
In this, we perceive a pattern: the Priest-Kings’ hand is rarely seen, but its shadow lies long.
IV. Reflections Upon Their Grand Design
When I stand upon the walls of Port Kar and look to the stars, I wonder if the Priest-Kings still watch from their Sardar — not only Gor, but Earth itself — comparing, measuring, and learning.
It is said they seldom err, for their ways are those of logic and patience.
Yet perhaps even the Priest-Kings, in their wisdom, fear the same truth we sailors know: that the sea of the cosmos is vast, and not even the greatest navigator can chart every storm.
If it is true, as some whisper, that the Kurii still prowl among the worlds, then perhaps Earth is not merely a place of harvest but a line of defense — a world watched not out of curiosity, but necessity.
V. Conclusion
From all these observations, I am brought to a single, uneasy understanding:
The Priest-Kings’ interest in Earth is neither benevolent nor cruel. It is functional — the act of custodians managing a fragile species across two worlds.
Earth is their field, Gor their garden.
And we, whether born under one sun or two, are the crops by which they measure the success of their design.
If they are indeed our gods, they are gods of order, not mercy.
If they are our keepers, they are keepers who watch with the calm of those who believe they have already foreseen the end.
May the Sardar one day answer — not in flame, but in truth.
Link to Neeve Barbosa's Journal
https://goreanfreewomanjournal.blogspot.com/?zx=e112082e3f528543
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