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Always the thought burned through me, You, Killer, would never make a Player, and always I seemed driven by the black fear that would not speak itself but whose presence I could clearly sense. - (Assassin of Gor, Chapter 18, Sentence #348)

"Touch me!" But the males lay in drunken sleep on the stones. I passed through the level on which interrogations take place, the level of the kennels, and went lower in the cylinder, now far below ground, past even more iron pens and levels. When I would pass a guard I would hail him with "Kajuralia!" and pass by. Always the thought burned through me, You, Killer, would never make a Player, and always I seemed driven by the black fear that would not speak itself but whose presence I could clearly sense. Descending a last spiral of iron stairs I came to the lowest level of the cylinder. "Who goes there?" cried a startled guard. "It is I, Kuurus, of the black caste," said I, "on the orders of Cernus bringing paga to prisoners on Kajuralia!" "But there is only one prisoner here," said he, puzzled. - (Assassin of Gor)