In the Kingdom of Mkalvania: Dream or Reality?

A journey to a lost world within the great forest

I had met Sir Mkail Jun at the Ship Rock fair; we exchanged thoughts and tales of our travels. Before we went our separate ways, he invited me to his Kingdom—a hidden place called Mkalvania—telling me that a great festival was soon to take place and that he and his people would be delighted to have me as a guest. 

With no major events happening elsewhere on Gor, I decided to follow the map Sir Mkail had given me and make my way to that distant location. I was already accustomed to the hardships of travel—visiting rugged, isolated areas often devoid of roads or trails—but this time, the task before me was to traverse the forest and reach the great kingdom. 

After a long journey spent carefully rationing food and water, the forest finally began to thin. In the distance, hills came into view; a wisp of smoke rose from one of them toward the sky—a sure sign of life, and perhaps the village itself. I pressed on until I reached the hill, where a great castle rose majestically from the summit, while at its foot, in the valley, lay a large village complete with a temple and sites dedicated to various cults. 

I was stopped by a mounted patrol; they rode not our native *kailla*, but powerful steeds. The knights questioned me about my origins and destination, and after I explained my friendship with Sir Mkail, they escorted me to the foot of the castle. A multitude of people crowded the great square; many were dancing and waving banners, while naked slave girls danced in the center to the applause of the surrounding throng. Sir Mkail welcomed me with full honors, inviting me to watch the fireworks display in the sky and the dancing in the square. In the meantime, I captured many portraits of the local men and women, as well as glimpses of the scenery in this unknown realm.

I have not yet had the chance to visit the castle or speak with the Duchess; I will do so after resting from my long journey. For now, I am sharing portraits of the citizens below and look forward to seeing you in the next article.

Thank you, and don't forget to visit the great Gorean gallery—here is the new link: http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Guaruja/186/185/21

 

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welcome newOasis of 7 Palms

 As announced, the new "Oasis" is finally open, featuring its large gallery; I invite all friends and group members to visit.

The "Goreani Gallery" has been enriched with new characters, and I hope to add many more with your help. I am posting the updated list below; if anyone doesn't see themselves there, please send a photo to Sir Darian (ulisse1) or visit this location directly:

http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Guaruja/222/176/28

Thank you all for following the *Gazzetta delle Tre Lune*; here is the link to the paper:

https://dariantravels.blogspot.com

 The Great Darian is pleased to announce the new "Grande Oasi," featuring a much larger gallery. I am attaching the photo and the landmark. Thanks to everyone

      http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Guaruja/172/156/28

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 Volume #1. September 2026 

send by   '' Unnamedkajira ''

Dearest treasured audience…

It has come to this author’s attention that while the Priest Kings may rule the heavens, it is sheer, unadulterated absurdity that rules the surface of Gor. Let us dive straight into the latest embarrassments currently echoing through out the land. 

One suspects the quill may catch fire today, for the scandal swirling through the cities of Gor is positively volcanic. 

And speaking of volcanoes,

Let us begin with the ever dramatic Bactu, Ubar of Turmus, that proud Tuchuck warrior whose ego is said to be larger than his entire herd. Rumor whispers that Bactu was recently seen attempting to impress a group of visiting merchants by wrestling a bosk bare handed. Unfortunately, the bosk, being far wiser than Bactu simply stepped aside, leaving the mighty Ubar to tumble head first into a trough. The splash was heard all the way to Ar.

But fear not, dearest confidant, for Bactu rose from the mud with all the dignity of a man who pretends he meant to do that. One witness swears he announced, “It is a Turian cleansing ritual,” while wiping dirt from his teeth.

Meanwhile, in the glittering halls of Valaris, Vulcan Arian, Ubar of Valaris, is learning that owning a prized kajira comes with its own set of distinct headaches. His lovely slave, Snow, has apparently developed a sudden and severe allergy to the very concept of serving. Sources report that when ordered to fetch her Master's evening ka-la-na wine, Snow accidentally tripped over her own silks, drenching the Ubar’s robes in deep red stain just moments before an important diplomatic meeting. The fearsome Ubar spent the night negotiating trade routes looking less like a conqueror and more like a freshly butchered verr. 

Some claim Vulcan’s composure cracked so severely that he nearly smiled. Others insist it was merely a muscle spasm brought on by embarrassment. Either way, Snow has been forbidden from approaching rugs, steps, cushions, or flat surfaces of any kind.

But the most delicious comedy of errors belongs to the Isle of Teletus. Caine Steele, Ubar of Teletus, seems to have completely lost control of his domestic empire. Poor Caine is currently trapped in a treacherous tug of war between his kajira, Rya, and his Free Companion, the formidable Free Woman Muse Steele. 

For the Ubar’s grand banquet, Muse envisioned a refined, multi course masterpiece including roasted glazed tarsk. She had given the task of roasting the tarsk to Rya. Rya, meanwhile, followed a simpler culinary philosophy, "If it fits in one giant iron pot and doesn’t crawl out before the lid shuts, it’s dinner.

So when the grand hall doors opened, the guests were greeted by the slave as she proudly rolled out a cauldron bubbling like angry swamp water. She had “glazed” an entire tarsk in a barrel of fermented honey, and had let it simmer all day long. Of course she had forgotten to remove the beasts innards.

Trying to preserve his authoritative dignity, the Ubar took the first heroic bite. Within seconds his face turned purple, his eyes bulged like a startled vulo, and he tore off outside to promptly evacuate his stomaches contents. Safe to say Ryas sludge did not go to waste. It was swiftly deposited in the manure pile to used for next years fertilizer. The Ubara Muse not amused, sent the girl to meanest old scullery cook to be trained properly.

Dear truth seekers, the affairs of these mighty Goreans may shape the fate of Gor… but their daily embarrassments shape the fate of our amusement. Should more gossip drift upon the wind, rest assured this humble writer shall seize it with both hands.

If you desire another letter, perhaps even spicier, I shall happily oblige.

Yours truly, 

The Anonymous Lady Scibe

{For fictional entertainment purposes only. 2026}

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   GDC SAGE'S FOREST PRESENT:

                                   '' gorean dance comunity (sir koardan) ''

'' MoonStone (jules.terry): 

 breathy laugh, then tilted her head slightly. "Yet when I look upon myself, Master, I still look much as I did when I was eighteen. The moons have passed, but they have not taken everything from me." Her voice grew more thoughtful. She lowered her eyes briefly, as though searching through memories that stretched across years. "Time... it has taught me many things. It took many moons for me to understand who I am, what I need, and what I must be at any given time. I have learned that knowing oneself is not something that comes in a single day."

Moonstone remained kneeling before the Slaver Master, the warm lanternlight brushing across her features. The last traces of her dance still lingered in the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. She kept her head respectfully bowed, though a quiet confidence stirred behind her soft expression. At his presence, she slowly lifted her gaze, her eyes carrying the wisdom of many moons spent upon Gor. There was sweetness in her demeanor, but beneath it lay something stronger, a fire. "Yes, Master..." she began, her voice light and melodic, carrying a gentle warmth. "I am a Gorean dancer. I have skills in other things too, Master. Things I have learned through many moons of living, learning, and finding my way." She paused, her fingers resting neatly in her lap. A small, almost playful smile touched her lips. "I have been upon Gor for many moons... more than I can easily count. So long, perhaps, that I sometimes feel like an old hanging tapestry, carrying stories in every thread.''

( Gorean's photos present in dance show, weith the dancer )

lady Dragon

lady Tai Armani

sir Stal

sir Rodrick

sir Ralph Johnson

lady Perle

Passion dancer

sir Mustadio Gans

 lady Licogys Caosis

sir Koardan

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