A Gorean Freewoman's Journal

   This Gorean Fan Fiction was generated using Chat GPT alongside the RP logs.  Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles. Gor is Copyrighted by John Norman In the aftermath of a devastating fire that tore through the lower districts of Turmus, several injured individuals were rushed to the local infirmary for life-saving treatment. The fire, which started under mysterious circumstances, has left its victims grappling not only with physical injuries but also the psychological trauma of the ordeal. Among those who responded immediately was Neeve Barbosa, a physician with experience in handling extreme cases. Upon arriving at the scene, she was quick to assess the most critical injuries and begin treatment. Her prompt attention was crucial in stabilizing the victims, many of whom were suffering from smoke inhalation, burns, and physical shock. One of the first p...

  This Gorean Fan Fiction was generated using Chat GPT alongside the RP logs.  Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles. Gor is Copyrighted by John Norman They had left Tempest in the cage too long. Nearly two weeks without proper food, her panther-lean frame had withered to skin and bone. Her ribs pressed against her marked skin like sharp reminders of the life being scraped out of her. She could barely curl into herself anymore; every movement hurt. Her once-powerful voice was reduced to a broken, rasping whisper. Even her legendary rage, her panther fire, barely flickered. The slavers came and went—arguing about feeding her, discussing her as if she were livestock. Some mocked, some shrugged, some talked profit, some talked punishment. None cared. None except one. The ubar had tossed her a piece of dried bosk meat and a bowl of water—rough mercy, but mercy...

  This Gorean Fan Fiction was generated using Chat GPT alongside the RP logs.  Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles. Gor is Copyrighted by John Norman The infirmary was quiet the first time Neeve stepped inside that morning, save for the faint rattle of glass jars and the soft hum she carried on her lips. She moved immediately to the treatment room where a young woman lay bound to a bed, her breathing shallow, her skin striped with angry welts. Another healer had managed only to clean the wounds before exhaustion overtook her, leaving a note that some injuries might need stitching. Neeve washed her hands, checked the patient’s pulse and breathing, and coaxed softly, “Girl… are you awake?” The girl drifted in and out of consciousness, her breaths uneven. When a firm knock sounded at the door, Neeve made one last check over the girl and went to answer it. A man ...

Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles. This is written by the slave by the old name of Adaugo.  Adaugo moves with hesitant steps, glides into the center of the dance pit, her dark skin shimmering in the low torchlight. Tiny beads woven through her long, breaded hair click softly as she moves, betraying her nervous anticipation. She lowers her gaze, lips parted in uncertainty, arms drawn inward protectively as she senses the expectant eyes gathered around her. She breathes deeply, determined yet visibly unpracticed, body swaying with subtle, awkward grace—as if the rhythm within her is new, and she knows this dance is something her spirit is only just learning to awaken. Adaugo fingers trembling as they reach for the tambourine resting by her side. She draws it into her hand, the beads in her braided hair chiming with the motion. Steadying herself, she closes her eye...

This Gorean Fan Fiction was generated using Chat GPT alongside the RP logs.  Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles. Gor is Copyrighted by John Norman They had kept me caged too long. Six days, maybe more—time blurred into aching hunger, the stink of my own skin, and the rasp of my dry tongue against cracked lips. I pressed myself against the front of the cage when the slaver approached, offering him a soft, sweet tone I did not feel. “Water… please?” He smiled the way men do when they think they’ve already won. Maybe he had. My body shook with weakness; my stomach had turned hollow and sharp. Still, I kept my pride high, lifting my chin, speaking with the kind of sarcasm that once made warriors hesitate. He asked for my feathers. My weapons. The last pieces of the forest I still carried. I didn’t want to give them up. They were more than decorations—they were m...

This Gorean Fan Fiction was generated using Chat GPT alongside the RP logs.  Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles. Gor is Copyrighted by John Norman   The slaver—now called Varek —nudged the scraps of food farther from the cage with the toe of his boot. “No,” he said casually to the desperate figure inside. A man named Rhys passed by with another slave in tow. Tossing aside his half-eaten fruit, he nodded to Varek. “I wish you well, Slaver. I’ll let you return to your work.” His eyes settled briefly on Tempest . “Stop picking at that—it’s already infected.” Then he walked away, taking whatever knowledge he carried with him. A collared woman—now Lyrin —guided her master and knelt softly in the grass. When he stopped on the stones, she adjusted and knelt beside him again. “Greetings, Masters,” she offered. Another figure approached: Master Theron , a physic...

This Gorean Fan Fiction was generated using Chat GPT alongside the RP logs.  Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles. Gor is Copyrighted by John Norman The smell of bosk stew drifted through the slave house, fighting a losing battle against the stench of the cages. Tempest, a wild-haired panther girl, sat curled on a cushion inside one of them, ribs jutting sharply beneath her skin. She watched silently as a man approached with a cup and a steaming bowl. “Might be hungry,” he said, sliding the cup between the bars. “Not sure when the house plans to deal with you, but this’ll fill your belly in the meantime.” Tempest eyed him suspiciously. “The one running this place said no food or drink till I break,” she muttered—but she snatched the cup anyway and downed it in one gulp. “I’ll take it though. Cheers.” He chuckled. “I’m not the one in charge. Eat.” She tore into...

  Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles. A spark extinguished— a flame ignited. The girl had resisted, fought, eyes wild with defiance, rejecting lessons mercifully taught. The Slaver only smiled; he knew her struggle would end, in just a little while. Bound to the log, she writhed and screamed, wishing the nightmare were only a dream. But flame kissed steel, and pain made real what mercy could not redeem. With a flourish of hand, he pressed heat to flesh— and freedom’s delusion died. A single strike, the hiss of the brand, and all that she was was abruptly defied. The spark of rebellion broke, bent beneath life’s cruel yoke. Yet from those ashes rose another fire, the quiet, trembling desire of a girl reborn through flame, who knew nothing— save that nothing would ever be the same.  Written by Doe (aelita.biedermann)

   This Gorean Fan Fiction was generated using Chat GPT alongside a backstory I created for my character.  PLEASE NOTE: All the information in these blogs are OOC information unless you gain them IC. PLEASE do not metagame or godmod that you know this information.  Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles. Gor is Copyrighted by John Norman Entry III — The Freedom of Chains   Cardonicus was a city of stone and smoke, smaller than Lara but strong in spirit. Its people spoke less and laboured more; the walls bore the scars of raids and the scent of iron from the forges. There, I learned that Gor endures not because its people are kind, but because they are disciplined.   I served under the same woman who had drawn me from the fire. She was not my Mistress in title, but she carried the authority of one who commands without needing to raise ...

  This Gorean Fan Fiction was generated using Chat GPT alongside the RP logs.  Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles. Gor is Copyrighted by John Norman  A routine afternoon at the Sunstriker Inn took an unexpected turn when local physician Neeve Barbosa confronted an unidentified man dressed entirely in black—an encounter that quickly reignited whispers surrounding an unsolved murder from late September. Witnesses reported that the inn had been hosting a handful of patrons enjoying their midday meal when Barbosa, after noticing the unfamiliar figure, raised her voice to address him. She asked whether he might be the same man who had discovered the body of a woman found dead on or around the 22nd of September—a case the city magistrate has since dismissed due to lack of evidence. The man in black, later noted by some for the numerous weapons strapped to ...

  Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles. The following is a report on the Physician's Caste and its function within this society.  Gor is Copyrighted by John Norman The Physician’s Caste One of the Five High Castes , ranking fourth. Caste color: green —most Physicians wear green tunics. Each major city typically houses a Cylinder of Physicians , containing hospitals, laboratories, archives, and sometimes living quarters. Every city’s Physician Caste is autonomous , guided by a local High Council. Subcastes Likely subcastes include: Obstetrics Pediatrics Immunology Less likely due to limited need: Dentistry Psychiatry Geriatrics Caste Interaction The Sardar Fairs , held four times yearly, serve as major medical conventions. Physicians share research, discoveries, and caste-wide policy discussions. Much medical know...