I have found it at the tables of sword companions and in the clash of the metals of war, in the touch of a girl's lips and hair, in the blood of a sleen, in the sands and chains of Tharna, in the scent of talenders and the hiss of the whip.
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I am grateful to the immortal elements which have so conspired that I might once be.
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128
I was Tarl Cabot, Warrior of Ko-ro-ba.
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That not even the priest-kings of Gor can change.
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It is toward evening now, and the lamps of love are lit in many of the windows of the cylinders of Tharna.
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The beacon fires are set upon her walls, and I can hear the cry of distant guardsmen that all is well in Tharna.
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The cylinders grow dark against the darkening sky.
I have found it at the tables of sword companions and in the clash of the metals of war, in the touch of a girl's lips and hair, in the blood of a sleen, in the sands and chains of Tharna, in the scent of talenders and the hiss of the whip.
I am grateful to the immortal elements which have so conspired that I might once be.
I was Tarl Cabot, Warrior of Ko-ro-ba.
That not even the priest-kings of Gor can change.
It is toward evening now, and the lamps of love are lit in many of the windows of the cylinders of Tharna.
The beacon fires are set upon her walls, and I can hear the cry of distant guardsmen that all is well in Tharna.
The cylinders grow dark against the darkening sky.
- (Outlaw of Gor, Chapter )