Results Details

His head was garlanded by a wreath of green leaves as had been that of Sarm, and also, like Sarm, there was about his neck, as well as his translator, the ceremonial string of tiny metal tools. - (Priest-Kings of Gor, Chapter 27, Sentence #41)

I checked the sword in its sheath and left Misk's compartment, stepped to the transportation disk and swept silently, rapidly, down the tunnel in the direction in which I knew lay the Chamber of the Mother. I had spent but a few Ehn on the disk before I came to the barricade of heavy steel bars which separated those portions of the Nest open to Muls from those which were prohibited to them. There was a Priest-King on guard whose antennae waved quizzically about as I drew the disk to a stop not twelve feet from him. His head was garlanded by a wreath of green leaves as had been that of Sarm, and also, like Sarm, there was about his neck, as well as his translator, the ceremonial string of tiny metal tools. It took a moment for me to understand the Priest-King's consternation. The tunic I wore carried no scent-patterns and for a moment he had thought that the transportation disk I rode was actually without a driver. I could see the lenses of the compound eyes almost flickering as it strained to see, much as we might have strained to hear some small sound. - (Priest-Kings of Gor)