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This morning, at the Southern Gate, Bruno of Torcadino, I at his heels, leashed, and front-braceleted, had boarded a game ship for the Skerry of Lars, not really a skerry, but a small island five pasangs out in the Tamber Gulf, five pasangs beyond the laws of Port Kar. - (Quarry of Gor, Chapter 29, Sentence #18)

Perhaps things would be different, but swordsmen have their followers, and followers demand their champions. How foolish men are. What does it matter that one might be the provably, indisputably best at one thing or another, in a city, on a continent, or on a world? How thoughtless, unquestioned, and cruel are the imperatives of vanity! What are the vanities of women, free or slave, compared to the vanities of men, and yet we are not without fault, for we watch, and the men know we watch. This morning, at the Southern Gate, Bruno of Torcadino, I at his heels, leashed, and front-braceleted, had boarded a game ship for the Skerry of Lars, not really a skerry, but a small island five pasangs out in the Tamber Gulf, five pasangs beyond the laws of Port Kar. The tickets are cheap, presumably subsidized in part by the Skerry of Lars itself. And beasts such as I in my collar, with my marked thigh, are conveyed for half price. In the north, muchly distant, in the vicinity of Torvaldsland, and in the waters of Torvaldsland itself, small, isolated, uninhabited skerries are often used as dueling places. - (Quarry of Gor)