Far You've traveled in the last many days North East from the Great Noble City of Ar...having found bits and pieces of directions over bowls of paga in the lowest of Taverns....Your destination...The War Camp of DePhyrius Talon rumored to lie at the Base of the Voltai Mountains...knowing even Ubars fear and would kill to know the location of this secretive lair...Of the Men that have been said to Brave even south of the Cartius river to the Wild Plains of Gor to seek out their desires...

        Farther You travel until You notice that the rolling Hills are becoming steeper...the foliage becoming denser...and the Gorean tri-moons will begin to rise shortly...night is approaching fast...Your hands instinctively grip the reigns of Your mount as suddenly the Sound of hurried steps catches Your eye...turning Your head you spot movement in the distance...suddenly the Distinct sounds of War Cries filter through the air as You come over the last rise...the Mountains looming before You and the Palisade War Camp stretches out below seemingly nestled...built right into the valley as if it belonged there unhidden unless one dares to seek it out...

        Camp fires burning blazing billowing smoke through the air seemingly unhidden before now beckons You...but makes You weary at the same time as You suddenly look up...the Huge Shadows of the Fearsome Tarns flying Overhead towards the War Camp...Painted Warriors atop their Winged Mounts...suddenly You realize they're returning Home...possibly from a Recent War or Raid...Cries of revelry and triumph ring through the Air as the sound of Steel being pounded against Shields Ring true...

        Closer You ride to the Palisade Camp...realizing that the Palisades and Surrounding Cliffs are Much Steeper then You imagined they would be....the Huge Gate swinging open to allow the Multitudes of Warriors to enter the Great Camp with their newly acquired bounty when You stop....realizing that One of the Warriors Has Caught Your approach...turning quickly as the Woman...or so She was...suddenly drops to her knees at His side...her robes tattered and her body half bare...His hand gripping Her Hair in his fist as His other Draws His sword...the Courage and Honor scars of the Plainspeople clearly apparent on His aged and battle scarred Face...His eyes cold as Steel as He pulls his newly acquired pleasure closer to His side...his voice low and demanding as He speaks...

"Tal Stranger...Best be on Your way...this is no place for Wanderers...and tis not For the weak...what brings You to My home...?"

Startled...suddenly You realize that You're being surrounded as the eyes of haughty slave girls look upon You brazenly as You realize You stand before the Leader of this Fearsome War Band...knowing that the Challenge has been Made...and the Decision Yours to Make...Speak now...for they may be Your final words...