DARIAN TRAVELS

The Aros Fair

     By now the fair in En-Kara was over, I spoke with lady Sabayna, she was with the caravan from the city of Isfhan, in the Thahari desert, in the deep south, we were talking with other merchants, about the return journey, when a Viking from Thorvasland , mention of a fair that would soon be held in the village of Aros, Sabayna and I looked into each other's eyes and as if we had the same thought, we said we could go on the track to the North instead of going down the Sardar following the track of Tehntis, Sais and then Olni and from there take a ship to go down to Brundisium or continue to Shendi then we would have split up, I would have returned to my Oasis of the Seven Palms and she to the city of Isfahan.

sir Bjorn

     After a careful study of the maps that I always carry with me we decided the best and safest route to Aros, the next morning we left, we had decided to follow the pilgrims' path, the one that leads to the Sanctuary was the safest then we would take a ship from Port Kar and go up the Thassa to the village of Aros, I would have stopped for a few days at the village of Hammersgaard, to say goodbye to my friend Nani and tidy up my little house, then I would have joined them at the village which is not just a day's drive away voyage.

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In the forgotten reaches of Gor lay the North, a harsh land steeped in dark shadows and mysterious forests. Uppsala, the Norse temple, rose majestically above the hills. Its walls, covered in moss, bore the signs of time. Inside, pale candles flickered, illuminating a maze of passages that led underground. The cave under the temple contained not only the words of believers, but also the echoes of the 9 worlds that hid in the shadows of the rocks. In Aros, the trading city has awakened from the ruins of Lauri as if it were a living being itself. The streets pulsated with activity as the sun shone through the rooftops.

But even in daylight you could sense the mysterious aura that permeated the city. Merchants' pavilions danced in the wind as people went about their business in the market, knowing that not all intentions were revealed in the light of day. The surrounding Northland area was a patchwork of shady forests and majestic mountains. The trees whispered mysterious stories as their branches swayed in the wind. Dark shadows darted through the leaves and the grass bent under the weight of hidden secrets. In the caves beneath the mountains, deep within the earth, dark secrets lingered, waiting to be dragged into the light

The movements of the trees told stories of ancient times, of forgotten legends and secret pacts. The wind whispered dark melodies and the leaves rustled like faded pages of an ancient book. Even the grass seemed to have a life of its own, swaying to the beat of a long-forgotten ballad.

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    We were welcomed by a beautiful lady named Estrella (Stella) who immediately called her assistant the young Ana, she accompanied us to the fair area to have our own display place, Sabayna would have exhibited her perfumes, I would have set up my newsstand newspaper the Gazette of Gor, many people walked around the village made of wooden houses on stilts overlooking the sea with long walkways connected by stairs. I preferred to take a place on the less busy secondary road while the beautiful Sabayna took some positions on the beach.

 the fair began with many visitors coming from the many villages of the northern coast, and many merchants coming from the south taking advantage of the spring and the melting of the snow, to trade their products in exchange for skins and artefacts of all kinds.

      

    We are here now the fair and at its peak business is going well, my newspaper has sold many copies, even if not everyone knows how to read, but it has been a positive experience and I hope to stay here for some time to get to know the people and the area, I will draw some maps of this remote place and I will give my availability as a lawman in case they need it.........

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GERMAN 

Mittlerweile war der Jahrmarkt in En-Kara vorbei, ich sprach mit Dame Sabayna, sie war mit der Karawane aus der Stadt Isfhan, in der Thahari-Wüste, im tiefen Süden, wir sprachen mit anderen Händlern über die Rückreise, Als ein Wikinger aus Thorvasland einen Jahrmarkt erwähnte, der bald im Dorf Aros stattfinden würde, sahen Sabayna und ich uns in die Augen und als ob wir die gleichen Gedanken hätten, sagten wir, wir könnten stattdessen auf die Strecke nach Norden gehen den Sardar hinabzufahren und dabei den Spuren von Tehntis, Sais und dann Olni zu folgen und von dort aus ein Schiff zu nehmen, um nach Brundisium hinunterzufahren

oder weiter nach Shendi, dann hätten wir uns getrennt, ich wäre in meine Oase der Sieben Palmen zurückgekehrt und sie in die Stadt Isfahan.

       Nach einem sorgfältigen Studium der Karten, die ich immer bei mir habe, entschieden wir uns für den besten und sichersten Weg nach Aros. Am nächsten Morgen, als wir abreisten, hatten wir beschlossen, dem Pilgerweg zu folgen, der zum Heiligtum führte, war damals der sicherste Wir würden ein Schiff von Port Kar nehmen und die Thassa hinauf zum Dorf Aros fahren, ich hätte ein paar Tage im Dorf Hammersgaard angehalten, um mich von meiner Freundin Nani zu verabschieden und mein kleines Haus aufzuräumen, dann würde ich es tun haben uns ihnen in dem Dorf angeschlossen, das nicht nur eine Tagesreise mit dem Auto entfernt liegt.

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In den vergessenen Regionen Gors lag der Norden, ein raues Land voller dunkler Schatten und geheimnisvoller Wälder. Uppsala, der nordische Tempel, erhob sich majestätisch über die Hügel. Seine mit Moos bedeckten Wände trugen die Zeichen der Zeit. Drinnen flackerten helle Kerzen und erhellten ein Labyrinth aus Gängen, die in den Untergrund führten. Die Höhle unter dem Tempel enthielt nicht nur die Worte der Gläubigen, sondern auch die Echos der neun Welten, die sich im Schatten der Felsen versteckten. In Aros ist die Handelsstadt aus den Ruinen von Lauri erwacht, als wäre sie selbst ein Lebewesen. Auf den Straßen herrschte reges Treiben, während die Sonne durch die Dächer schien. Aber selbst bei Tageslicht konnte man die geheimnisvolle Aura spüren, die die Stadt erfüllte. Die Pavillons der Händler tanzten im Wind, während die Menschen ihren Geschäften auf dem Markt nachgingen, wohlwissend, dass sich nicht alle Absichten am Tageslicht offenbarten. Das umliegende Northland-Gebiet war ein Flickenteppich aus schattigen Wäldern und majestätischen Bergen. Die Bäume flüsterten geheimnisvolle Geschichten, während ihre Äste im Wind schwankten. Dunkle Schatten huschten durch die Blätter und das Gras beugte sich unter der Last verborgener Geheimnisse. In den Höhlen unter den Bergen, tief in der Erde, lauerten dunkle Geheimnisse und warteten darauf, ans Licht gezerrt zu werden.

Die Bewegungen der Bäume erzählten Geschichten aus alten Zeiten, von vergessenen Legenden und geheimen Pakten. Der Wind flüsterte dunkle Melodien und die Blätter raschelten wie verblasste Seiten eines alten Buches. Sogar das Gras schien ein Eigenleben zu führen und schwankte im Takt einer längst vergessenen Ballade.

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    Wir wurden von einer wunderschönen Dame namens Estrella (Stella) begrüßt, die ihre Assistentin sofort die junge Ana nannte, sie begleitete uns zum Messegelände, um unseren eigenen Ausstellungsort einzurichten, Sabayna hätte ihre Parfüme ausgestellt, ich hätte meine Zeitung am Kiosk aufgestellt In der Gazette of Gor spazierten viele Menschen durch das Dorf, das aus Holzhäusern auf Stelzen mit Blick auf das Meer und langen, durch Treppen verbundenen Gehwegen bestand. Ich zog es vor, einen Platz auf der weniger befahrenen Nebenstraße einzunehmen, während die schöne Sabayna einige Positionen am Strand einnahm.

   Die Messe begann mit vielen Besuchern aus den vielen Dörfern der Nordküste und vielen Händlern aus dem Süden, die den Frühling und die Schneeschmelze nutzten, um ihre Produkte gegen Häute und Artefakte aller Art einzutauschen.

      

    Wir sind jetzt hier, die Messe, und auf dem Höhepunkt des Geschäfts läuft es gut, meine Zeitung hat viele Exemplare verkauft, auch wenn nicht jeder lesen kann, aber es war eine positive Erfahrung und ich hoffe, noch einige Zeit hier zu bleiben, um dazu zu kommen Ich kenne die Leute und die Gegend, ich werde einige Karten dieses abgelegenen Ortes zeichnen und ich werde meine Verfügbarkeit als Anwalt zur Verfügung stellen, falls sie es brauchen.......

LOOKING INTO THE FAIR

 Pisichian stand

Mews the Keeper

the inn (Tavern)

SCRIBE TENT

brazil dance Gorean

HALIN

ROLEPLAY MUSEUM

 

 DARIAN TRAVELS

                    The Glorious Egeria.........

   I was in disarray, after leaving Falsworth following Lady Chiara, Sir Ming's companion, he had repudiated her by taking his slave as his companion, but in that small village in the North if I remember correctly it was called Fjilsborg, it was winter and the days we all passed together in the large hall, eating and drinking and accompanying the slaves, it was not the life I wanted, I had studied a lot in the great city of Olni as a Magistrate, Lawyer and Scribe, I suffered and as soon as the first merchant ships arrived in spring I left that village for an unknown destination, I was born in the desert I didn't like the cold and the life of the hard men of the north.

                             MARCUS BRANDON

       Naturally the first stop, the ships going down the Thassa Sea, made it to the Cos archipelago to load wine and sell the skins bought in the north, and so it was that while I was on the pier of a city called Degalbi, I met a merchant in a tavern headed to the island of Mistic Cove in the city of Egeria, he enthusiastically told me about the beauties of that city and the luck that everyone spoke our southern dialect, strangely that man had the same name as me, Darian Bonetto who made sure I was introduced to him The steward of Egeria, who was called Marcus Brandon, was a great, honorable and powerful man.

 

    I entered that city with great enthusiasm, with the hope of having a job, a house, to live happily and perhaps meet a woman at my side, we crossed the large gate and emerged in a square with many buildings on the sides and in the distance on a hill the fortress, where Brandon lived, I went up that steep road, while Bonetto remained in the square to meet the merchants, I presented myself at the guardhouse at the central door, gave them my credentials and waited sitting on a bench under a large tree for them to call me for the audience with the regent.

     Finally he received me and after the pleasantries I told him about his city, and I wrote his words below:

CITY OF EGERIA

                                        HISTORY

The city of Egeria was founded in March 2018. It was born on the island of Mystic Cove, north of Cos and south of the port of Lydius, as a trading center, kajirae training, neutral place to make agreements or resolve disputes.

The growth of the population leads the council to improve its position and so the city grows, gradually becoming larger until it becomes a real fortified city state, with its own rules and laws.

After overcoming several wars and catastrophes, today it has expanded its territory even further by moving the glorious Home Stone to the continent, to be precise along the Cartius River.

It is divided into three areas, the fortified city, the port and the forest.

CITY OF EGERIA

The city, protected by high and powerful walls, lies on the east bank of the river, towards the interior. The Cartius flows into the Vosk starting from the south, bordering the Shendi forest, moving in a northerly direction and therefore connects important economic areas, making it full of naval traffic.

Entering through the sun gate we find ourselves on the first level of the city. We find the caste headquarters of the scribes and builders, the central bank of Egeria, the Temple of the Home Stone and various commercial activities, such as the Golden Tarn and the forge. There is also the rich library of Egeria, an obligatory destination for Gor scholars and historians, eager to learn about the events of the Gorean city which they express in our language.

Going upwards we find the residential area of the high castes. Noble and elegant buildings embellished with green spaces. Going further up we find the Ubar residence and the tall cylinders that remind everyone of the greatness and history of the city.

PORT OF EGERIA

This area is the vital center of the city's social and economic life. Located on the west bank of the Cartius River, it controls naval traffic and every passage. The move of the Home Stone was decided precisely to locate it in a place capable of offering greater development possibilities and the port is its nerve centre. The toll you pay to cross the city is one of the best examples of this. The Customs is the control and supply post, as well as being the structure for collecting money from commercial ships in transit.

Businesses, such as the Bosk Tavern, the Black Pearl Inn and the Talender Tea House offer refreshment to travelers who wish to stop for a few days. The port village also offers the open market, the flower market, the brothel, the spa as well as hosting city structures such as the City Hall, the Hospital and the headquarters of the merchant 

Risultati della traduzione

Risultato di traduzione

On that side, being adjacent to the forest, there are walls and a guarded door. THE FOREST The wooded area was left to allow wild animals, panthers and travelers without permits to enter the city to have a free zone in which to do business and trade. Natural caves and rocks offer temporary shelter to those who need it without having to submit to the laws of the city. No offense will be caused to anyone who stops in the forest, but every hostile act will be repaid with the same coin. POLITICAL ORDER Ubarato is currently in force in Egeria. Nonetheless, decisions are often made collegially, through meetings at the City Hall, where all citizens have the right to speak and, if necessary, all caste leaders the right to vote. The reasons for the presence of an Ubar are to be found in the presence of enemies who have repeatedly attempted to attack the city in its previous location, as well as a constant uncertainty in the positions of head of the high castes. If these two elements were missing, the Ubar would not hesitate to hand over power to the will of the High Council of Egeria. ECONOMY At Egeria every action and transaction must be settled through correct payment (Zcs wallet). These transactions must appear in the RP report. Every citizen will have the right, if in possession of evidence, to bring non-payers to court. If they are citizens, the trial will include a fine or imprisonment. In the case of travelers not willing to accept the possible penalty, the temporary BAN based on the severity of the action. HOUSING Every resident citizen will be entitled to housing based on their position and caste. No fee will be required for first homes. For commercial activities, contracts will be stipulated with the city administration, and payments will obviously be in zcs coin. The real estate market will be open to all, but the merchant caste will have pre-emption on the purchase of properties. Resident citizens will have 50 prims available to furnish their homes. By resident citizens we mean those active in roleplay. Absence from the land for a period exceeding 30 days will result in the loss of accommodation and the return of the prims. The resident citizen will be able to give advance notice of an absence exceeding 30 days (without necessarily specifying the reasons) and in that case he will not lose either accommodation or prims. ADMINISTRATION Contracts of any nature, whether for the sale or rental of real estate, land, livestock, slaves or any other kind, will ONLY be valid if validated by the seal of the blue caste of Egeria. The city of Egeria is owed 5% of any contract by the seller and buyer in taxes. The red caste will be required to report any suspicion of wrongdoing, and the parties will be asked to show ownership documents and sales contracts. Both parties can report breaches of contract. Marcus Brandon

DARIANTRAVELS-GOREANGAZETTE

En'kara opening ceremony

The sun dipped low on the horizon as the Ubar of Genesian Port, Collin Daines, stepped forward to open the ceremony, his voice ringing out with gratitude for the gathering crowd. Alongside him stood the Lady Annike, Ubara of Genesian Port, radiating regal poise, and the blessed High Initiate of the Oasis of Two Scimitars, Tariq ibn Joshao al Samini, his presence commanding respect. The air buzzed with anticipation as the audience, representing peoples from across Gor, settled into the wooden seating area encircling the stage.

Before the solemn sacrifice, the Ubar spoke solemn words, invoking the spirit of En'kara and emphasizing the fair's ethos of peace and unity. He stated, "As you know the fair is one of peace. There is no combat here except in this arena,  and no one should be enslaved. ... It is a time to celebrate and come together. ... Despite any differences we might have."

With reverence, he passed the ceremony to the High Initiate, who raised his arms towards the Sardar peaks, chanting prayers to the sacred ones.

The High Initiate's address echoed through the arena, urging all present to seek purity and honor the Priest-Kings. With a ceremonial gesture, the initiate Quintius performed the ritual sacrifice, collecting the bosk's blood and liver as offerings. With bated breath, the crowd awaited the High Initiate's pronouncement of the omens, greeted with relief as he declared them favorable.

"Ta Sardar Gor!" echoed the crowd in unison, a chorus of gratitude to the Priest-Kings. As the carcass was dissected and distributed to feed the hungry, the High Initiate bestowed blessings upon the assembly, invoking the protection and guidance of the Priest-Kings.

As the ceremony concluded, a sense of unity and purpose filled the air, binding the community in shared reverence and celebration. In the fading light, the legacy of the Sardar Fairs lived on, a statement to the enduring spirit of Gor.

by Alika

a humble scribe.

DARIAN TRAVELS

 Alika's letters to Darian.

Chapter Two - Journey through the Northern Forest.

There was a stillness amongst the caravan, save for the air rustling through the leaves on the trees bordering the lane. One or two of the handlers could be heard quietly discussing something between themselves as they sat on the wagon in front. Instinctively the bosk, shifted in their harnesses in anticipation. Some of the handlers moved amongst the bosk, checking harnesses, and ensuring that everything was securely fastened for the journey ahead. Others were seated at the head of their wagons waiting for the signal.

At the front of the caravan, the marshal, who had previously walked the line, stood aside in the lane, observing, and checking the procession. He then raised a small horn-shaped instrument to his mouth and emitted two short but distinct blasts before retreating out of sight to his own wagon at the head of the caravan. Instantly, the bosk began to take up the slack, their handlers in front urging them on with cries of encouragement to pull the heavy wagons into motion. Amidst the cacophony, the sounds of creaking wagons and the jangle of metal workings binding leather harnesses added to the sounds.

In a sudden jolt, our own wagon lurched forward into motion and Cyrus added encouragement as he joined the chorus coaxing the beasts onward. Gradually, the wagons began to move forward, albeit slowly. Soon, the caravan settled into a leisurely but steady pace, easily matched for a man on foot, barely faster than brisk walking and the cries of the handlers faded away.

We were not on the coastal road for long before the caravan turned off to the right onto a narrow trail that disappeared into the depths of the forest.

Soon towering Tur trees on either side loomed overhead, their ancient branches stretching towards the sky and casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of earth and tree scents, and a closed dense ambiance enveloped us as we delved deeper into the forest.

Amidst the tall trees, the woods teemed with life. Dense ferns carpeted the undergrowth. Hermit birds tapped rhythmically upon tree trunks, their pattering beats echoing through the dense foliage. Leaves rustled in the gentle breeze high in the canopy, and distant cries and calls of wild creatures added to the symphony of sounds that surrounded us.

As we rode on, Cyrus began sharing his wisdom and insights about navigating the forest, commenting about the creatures responsible for the sounds we heard. With each passing moment, I found myself growing more captivated by his knowledge and expertise, realizing there was much to learn from this seasoned traveller.

Soon, Cyrus began to share his personal history with us. He spoke of his humble beginnings as a peasant farmer, much like Elisha or myself, toiling under the sun and tending to the land with his own hands. However, Cyrus's fortunes changed when he seized an opportunity to assist the merchants who travelled the road between Helmutsport and Kassau.

He had carved out a niche for himself in the world of trade, working for a local merchant, developing an innate understanding of commerce. With each journey he undertook alongside the merchants, Cyrus gained experience of the trade routes, and he prospered, eventually earning enough to acquire his own wagon. In time, he finally achieved his goal of independence, branching out on his own and establishing himself as a respected merchant in his own right. As Cyrus shared his story with us, I couldn't help but admire this gentle older man who had through the trials and tribulations of his past, gained success and prosperity, inspiring me to continue pushing forward on my own path, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead.

 

We continued along the forest path for the remainder of the day and as the sun dipped below the tree line, casting a golden hue over the forest, we finally reached the southern side of the great forest. The fading light prompted the handlers to draw the wagons into a protective circle, a makeshift barrier against the unknown dangers that lurked within the forest.

Around us, a camp sprang to life. Some of the merchants erected small lean-to tents against their wagons, providing shelter for the night, while others busied themselves with building a campfire in the centre of the circle. The aroma of cooking soon filled the air, as I helped with the preparation. We made pan bread and a hearty meal of tarsk stew served with warm paga.

As I settled into the comfort of the camp upon my bedroll, I found myself reflecting on the day's journey and the valuable insight I had learned from Cyrus. His words of wisdom echoed in my mind, reminding me of the need to recharge and regroup before facing the challenges of the road ahead.

Amidst the gentle murmur of conversation and the crackling of the fire, I felt the weight of exhaustion begin to tug at my eyelids. Yet, as sleep beckoned, I observed Elisha taking out a large gem-like crystal covered with a cloth and showing it to Cyrus. The two of them engaged in animated discussion, their voices hushed as they pondered its significance before sleep devoured me.

 

With the dawn of a new day, the caravan stirred to life once more, resuming its journey along the path of the Laurius River. As we travelled beside the gentle flow of water, the landscape unfolded before us in a panorama of natural beauty. Rolling hills stretched out into the distance, adorned with lush meadows and colourful wildflowers swaying in the breeze. The soothing sound of flowing water provided a comforting backdrop to our journey, offering a sense of tranquillity amidst the bustle of travel.

Our trail followed the meandering course of the river, tall grasses swayed in the breeze, wildflowers dotted the banks, and the horizon broken by the occasional ka-la-na tree. Eventually, we arrived at the ford—a shallow crossing where the river's waters flowed lazily across the path. With careful precision, the caravan navigated the ford, the bosk stepping cautiously through the shallows as we crossed to the other side. In the distance lay the city of Piedmont nestling among gentle slopes.

As we arrived in Piedmont, it was time to bid farewell to Cyrus as he prepared to enter the city to deliver his cargo. With heartfelt gratitude, we expressed our appreciation for his guidance and companionship during the first leg of our journey. His wisdom and camaraderie had been invaluable, and we knew we would miss his presence on the road ahead.

With our goodbyes said, Elisha and I set out to find passage onward towards Sardar. The bustling streets of Piedmont beckoned, promising new adventures and challenges on the road ahead. Yet, as we made our way through the city, my thoughts returned to the gemstone that Elisha carried. I couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity, eager to learn more about its origins and significance. In our travels to come, I would uncover more about this mysterious gem.

 DARIAN TRAVELS

The journey was very long for many Goreans who arrived again this year at the EN-KARA fair, also known as the Gorean new year, which coincides with the spring of planet earth, but in Gor it takes on a particular character, for those from the North it represents the end of the long winter closed in the large hall, surrounded by deep snow, for the people of the South, it is the beginning of trade and the resumption of life, the ships already ready at the docks to sail the great Sea of Thassa, those towards the archipelago of Cos to load the tasty wine, some towards the north bringing spices salt and articles for survival, and load furs that in torwsland they have tanned ready for sale, others will go up the great river Wosk, some arrive at the great city of Olni , others go beyond the Thentis river to the city, or arrive at the beautiful city of Sais, while there are those who do their business in the desert Oases, sometimes starting from Brundisium up to the large city of AR, or from Shendi up to to the Cartassa oasis or even further away to the Oasis of the two scimitars,

  

    The salt trade resumes sometimes from Klima to the coast to continue towards Port Kar, and up the Thassa to the villages of Finnur, Windermeer, Fjilsbork, Hammersgaard, Jasime, some go towards the lost city in the rock of Skuold.

    All the cities and villages have their tent at the fair, while the merchants or perfumers like Sabayna and lady Mae have some stalls with their very fragrant products. As every year, I am present with the sales point of the newspaper La Gazetta di Gor, lately I published articles by Alika, a good, very intelligent and well-prepared Farmer, with her article on the road to the Sardar, she was able to interpret the moment of the journey and the aggregation of peoples well, in the fair there are no North-South divisions but I want everyone to be know and have contacts with other cities to stipulate trade alliances,

 

   I hope that this year too everything goes well and that the turnout is large, I have already seen many people on the road to the fair in caravans or camped out waiting for the inauguration which will take place in a few minutes.

      Thank you all for picking up a copy of the paper...

 
 

DARIAN TRAVELS.

"Alika's journal - letters to Darian"



Chapter 1: The Departure - Road to Sardar

As the first light of dawn painted the eastern sky in hues of pink and gold and long shadows cast about the yard, I locked and barred my front door. For a moment I stood back to say farewell and give blessings of safe keeping to my lovely farmhouse for the few days that I will be away. I wasn't worried though. Elisha's father has said that he would keep an eye on the place while we were gone. It was also wonderful to share this journey with Elisha, who when I mentioned a few weeks ago now of my desire to visit the fairs once more, was all too keen to make the trip for himself. So why not share the journey together? Also I knew it would be a lot safer than going it alone.
Now, at one the outer edges of Helmutsport, with pack on my back and staff in my hand, I stepped into the lane, straightened my garments and begin walking to our rendezvous where the lane forks and the merchants muster, between the road into Helmutsport and the coastal track towards Kassau, to meet with Elisha.

Both of us have been to Sardar before although on separate occasions. The journey is not without it's dangers. Between Helmutsport on the Thassa and Sardar nestled at the foot of the Sardar mountains can pose a challenge. The safest path has always been to sail down the coast to the coast town of Cardonicus that serves as the trading hub for nearby Piedmont and from there along a well trodden path towards Tharna, past Besnit and into Sardar. Going by ship around the coast costs money that neither of us could ill-afford. Also, it puts another two days on the journey time.

There is however, a more direct route through the great northern forest. It has always been there, perhaps created years ago for merchants to serve the coastal settlements around Kassau and Helmutsport. It can be hazardous to those making the journey without protection as the great forest is the home of the Red Savages and wild forest girl tribes as well a numerous animal predators that roam within the woods. So, the path was cut through the forest for the briefest of distance where upon it meets with the river Laurius close to the city of Piedmont. The route follows the path of the Laurius until it can be forded and then joins the main merchant route from Cardonicus to Sardar.

It was Elisha's suggestion to tag along with a merchant caravan. He knew of merchants that make the journey to Piedmont. Passing through the forest as part of group that would certainly take away the dangers and would deter all but most foolhardy of aggressors. We also believed that from Piedmont we could secure passage as there would be many now heading towards Sardar for the fair. He said he would ask around the merchants in Helmutsport as to who were planning to take the forest road.

As I continued along the lane towards Helmutsport blissfully recounting the discussions of the past few days, Elisha had quietly caught up with me and has almost reached me unnoticed before I was aware of him.
"Tal, Alika!" He called out, his greeting sharply pulled my focus back into the moment. Pausing to look back, I waited for him to come closer.

Before me stood, a childhood friend and neighbour, his familiar presence, his warm smile, we paused a moment taking in each other's travelling garb, dressed as we were for the journey ahead.

"Tal Elisha." I responded mutually. "Were you successful in securing passage with any of the merchants going through the forest?" I asked.

"Indeed I was," he said with a gleeful smile. "We can travel with Cyrus. He welcomed my request and said we could be useful to him with a few tasks along the way." He added.
As Elisha spoke, I couldn't but help notice that attached to his backpack amongst other items was his long bow, that was strapped vertically to it and stood proudly, over his shoulder. I found this most reassuring. A long bow in the hands of a peasant is a formidable weapon, good for defence against adversaries as it is for hunting.
"I agreed to offer my bow in protection, and you may help out too." He went on. "His wife isn't coming along with him and the opportunity to avoid having to take care of everything was too good for him to pass over."

For my part, I was glad not to have to make the journey on foot. Being able to ride was worth the effort of doing some tasks or cooking, helping out on the trip.

As Elisha and I strolled along the lane leading towards Helmutsport, we came  upon a row of six to eight wagons stationed along the side of the road, their cargo carefully secured beneath waterproof coverings. Some of the wagons were coupled together to form duplex arrangements, a testament to the efficiency of their design. Each wagon or set was hitched to sturdy bosks and there was the group of handlers and merchants moving around tending to the animals and the wagons alike.

As we approached the line of wagons, Elisha was trying to catch sight of Cyrus amidst the group of men gathered. With a shout of recognition, he hailed Cyrus, who turned towards us and gestured for us to join him. With that, Cyrus stowed away a rope he was coiling into a lidded box affixed to the side of his wagon before welcoming us into his presence.

As Elisha and Cyrus engaged in conversation about the upcoming journey, I took a moment to survey the line of wagons that comprised the caravan.
The first thing that hits you is the sweaty, musky smell of the bosk wafted about by the swish of their tails and the deep rumble murmurs was they finish feeding and await the signal to begin moving off. The creaks and groans of the harnesses in tension with the wagons. There was more than one merchant and his wagons mustered here for the journey. It was a cooperative venture. There appeared to be ten wagons in total, with two of them paired together to form a double set. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that some of the wagons also held bales of dry grass, likely intended to feed the sizable beasts tasked with pulling the caravan eastward.

The wagons themselves were a patchwork of colours, with hues of reds, browns, and greens adorning their weathered exteriors. Each wagon bore the marks of age and use, a sign of the countless journeys they had made in service of their owners' trade. Amidst the bustling, noisy activity of the merchants and handlers preparing for departure, calling out to someone to do this or to take away that. I observed one tightening the ropes that secured the coverings to the wagon, while a woman, either a slave or freewoman busied herself with emptying a wide water buckets used to water the bosks. Once drained, the bucket was secured to the wagon for the journey ahead. As I watched the scene unfold before me, I couldn't help but marvel at what I was about to participate in, each individual playing their part in ensuring the smooth and efficient operation of the caravan.

As Elisha approached me, he gestured for me to store my pack onto Cyrus's wagon and climb up onto the seat next to Cyrus. While I began to take off my backpack, he explained that the caravan was only waiting for a few merchants and their wagons to arrive from Kassau, and they had already been spotted coming along the road from the south.

Handing over my backpack to Elisha, I watched as he deftly stowed it away next to his own belongings, nestled between the cargo and the seat board. With a warm smile, Cyrus was already seated on the right side of the wagon as I clambered up onto the seat, followed shortly by Elisha on my left. Returning Cyrus's smile, I felt a sense of familiarity and warmth as he greeted me, "Welcome, little Mistress. You've grown since I last saw you," he remarked.

I looked at him with surprise, for I would have surely remembered such a distinctive character as him. "I used to know your father," he said, sensing my puzzlement and attempting to address it. "It was a dark and sad day, the day he died," he continued, his voice tinged with a sombre tone as memories of the past washed over him.

The wagons from Kassau had arrived and had come to a halt, beyond the wagon behind ours. One of the men who I was assuming was a marshal had walked briskly past our wagon and the next to meet the men of the Kassau wagons. After a few minutes of discussion, out of earshot, he returned calling out to the handler of each wagon to make ready to move off as he moved back up the line.

"So, you are both going to the Sardar fair!" His words, changing the subject, brought a welcome shift in the conversation.
"Yes, we thought it would be a grand adventure," Elisha replied with a grin, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect of the fair.

As Cyrus settled into his seat, his gaze drifting towards the line of wagons ahead, he spoke of his own journey. "Aye, I'll be traveling only as far as Piedmont," he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "But the fairs, ah, they are a sight to behold. The hustle and bustle, the array of goods from far-off lands, the laughter and music filling the air—it's truly a spectacle."

Turning towards us, Cyrus's expression softened with gratitude. "I'm glad to have the company on this part of my journey," he admitted, his eyes reflecting the genuine warmth of his sentiment. "It's not often I have the pleasure of sharing the road with fellow travellers, and it makes the pasangs pass all the quicker."

As we waited for the call to move, I couldn't help but share in Cyrus's excitement. With the promise of new adventure and the camaraderie of newfound friends, the road ahead seemed filled with endless possibility.

alika co-editor

 

 

 

 (deutsch unten)

En'Kara Fair 2024 - Poetry/Short Story Contest

Terms and Conditions

* Open to all goreans, including slaves
* One entry per person (typist not character)
* Poems limited to 20 lines, short stories limited to 500 words.
* May be a rhyming poem or free verse, or short story
* Gorean Theme: Twists of Fate

Please send your entries in by: 15th, March 2024

 

 

here will be a prizes!

A public reading of the entries will take place on 20th March 2024 at 6:00 pm SLT - and don't you worry if you cannot be there for the public reading, someone will recite yours for you, just be sure to get it to us well in advance.

Sharpen up your quills and get writing!

Questions??  Contact Sometimes Mysterious OR Feather (Alarica Lutrova)

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En'Kara Fair 2024 - Poesie-/Kurzgeschichten-Wettbewerb

Bedingungen und Konditionen

* Offen für alle Goreaner, einschließlich Sklaven
* Ein Beitrag pro Person (Schreibkraft, nicht Charakter)
* Gedichte sind auf 20 Zeilen, Kurzgeschichten auf 500 Wörter begrenzt.
* Kann ein gereimtes Gedicht, ein freier Vers oder eine Kurzgeschichte sein.
* Goreanisches Thema: Wendungen des Schicksals

Die Einsendungen sind gefälligst einzureichen bis: 15. März 2024

Es wird einen Preis geben!

Eine öffentliche Lesung der Beiträge findet am 20. März 2024 um 18:00 Uhr SLT statt - und keine Sorge, wenn ihr bei der öffentlichen Lesung nicht dabei sein könnt, wird jemand euren Beitrag für euch vortragen, ihr müsst ihn uns nur rechtzeitig schicken.

Spitzt eure Federkiele und fangt an zu schreiben!

Noch Fragen?  Wenden Sie sich manchmal an Mysterious OR Feather (Alarica Lutrova)