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"My name is Kuurus," said I, speaking to him from the light of the torch. - (Assassin of Gor, Chapter 18, Sentence #409)

I saw that he was not actually an old man, though his hair was white. One ear had been partly bitten away. The white hair was long, white, yellowish. "My name is Kuurus," said I, speaking to him from the light of the torch. Each of his limbs, and his throat, was separately confined, each chained individually to the wall, each chain running to a separate ring bolted in the stone; any one of the chains would have been sufficient to hold a man; I gathered that this prisoner must be unusual indeed; I observed, further, that the chains gave him some run, though not much, just enough to permit him to feed himself, to scratch his body, to defend himself to some extent against the attacks of urts; I gathered it was intended that this prisoner should, at least for a time, survive. Indeed, it seemed probable that he had lived under these miserable conditions for a long time. I rose and found a torch rack in the room and set the torch in the rack. - (Assassin of Gor)