To my delight, even Torm, of the Castes of Scribes, appeared at the tables. I was honored that the little scribe had separated
himself from his beloved scrolls long enough to share my happiness, only that of a warrior. He was wearing a new robe and
sandals, perhaps for the first time in years. He clasped my hands, and , to my wonder, the little scribe was crying. And then, in his
joy, he turned to Talena and in gracious salute lifted the symbolic cup of Ka-la-na wine to her beauty. Tarnsman of Gor, page 217

I shall deliver this manuscript to some member f the Caste of Scribes whom I shall find at the Fair of En'Kara at the base of the
Sardar. From that point whether or not it survives will depend like so many other things in this barbaric world I have come to
love---on the inscrutable will of the Priest-Kings. Outlaw of Gor, page 24

I would stop briefly at the fair, for I must purchase food for the journey into the Sardar and I must entrust a leather-bound
package to some member of the Scribes, a package which contained an account of what had occurred at the City of Thana in the
past months, a short history of events which I thought should be recorded. Priest-Kings of Gor, page 8

My small friend, Torm of Ko-ro-ba, of the Caste of Scribes, had been to the fairs four times in his life. He informed me that in this
time he had refuted seven hundred and eight scribes from fifty-seven cities, but I will not vouch for the accuracy of this report, as
I sometimes suspect that Torm, like most members of his caste, and mine, tends to be a bit too sanguine in recounting his
numerous victories. Moreover I have never been too clear as to the grounds on which the disputes of scribes are to be
adjudicated, and it is not too infrequently that both disputants leave the field each fully convinced that he has the best of the
contest. In differences among member of my own caste, that of the Warriors, it is easier to tell who has carried the day, for the
defeated one often lies wounded or slain at the victor's feet. In the contests of scribes, on the other hand, the blood that is
spilled is invisible and the valiant foemen retire in good order, reviling their enemies and recouping their forces for the next day's
campaign. I do not hold this against the contests of scribes; rather I commend it to the members of my own caste. Priest-Kings of
Gor, page 9,10

Gorean, I might note, is somewhat similar, and though I speak Gorean fluently, I find it very difficult to write, largely because of
the even-numbered lines which, from my point of view, must be written backwards. Torm, my friend of the Caste of Scribes, never
forgave me to this day, if he lives, he undoubtedly considers me partly illiterate. As he said, I would never make a Scribe, "It is
simple," he said. “You just write it forward but in the other direction. Priest-Kings of Gor, page 101

I swept him off his feet and spun him around and the robes flew from his head and Torm of the Caste of scribes cried aloud in joy
and that sandy hair whoofed in the wind and tears ran sideways down his face and he never lost hold of the scroll although he
nearly batted the Older Tarl with it in one of his orbits and he began to sneeze and I gently put him down. Priest-Kings of Gor,
page 302

"Of course," said Torm, "after all a Priest-King is only a Priest-King." He rubbed his nose meditatively. "Of course," he admitted,
"that is quite a bit to be." He looked at the Older Tarl. You must not tell other members of the Caste of Scribes," he cautioned.
I smiled to myself. How clearly Torm wished to keep caste lines and virtues demarcated.
"I will tell everyone," said the Older Tarl kindly, "that you are the bravest of the Caste of Scribes. Priest-Kings of Gor, page 303

"I know," I said, and gave his sandy-haired head a rough shake. He was, after all, a Scribe, and had the properties of his caste to
observe. Priest-Kings of Gor, page 304

There were three who stood near the pyre; one wore the brown robes of the Administrator of ta City, the humblest robes in the
city, and was hooded; another wore the blue of the Caste of Scribes, a small man, almost tiny, bent now with pain and grief; the
last was a very large man, broad of back and shoulder, bearded and with long blond hair, a Warrior; yet even the Warrior
seemed in that moment shaken. Assassin of Gor, page 3

My return to the city was affecting, for here it was that my sword had been pledged to a Gorean Home Stone; here it was that I
had trained in arms and learned Gorean; it was here that I had met my father, after long years of separation; it was here that I
had made dear friends, the Older Tarl, Master of Arms, and small, quick-tempered Torm, he of the Caste of Scribes; and it was
from this place that I had, many years before, in tarnflight begun the work that would shatter the Empire of Ar and cost Marlenus
of Ar, Ubar of Ubars, his throne; and, too, it was to this place, I could not forget, that I had once brought on tarnback, not as a
vanquished slave but as a proud, and beautiful, and free, joyous woman, Talena, daughter of that same Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars,
had brought her to this place in love that we might here together drink, one with the other, the wine of the Free Companionship.
Assassin of Gor, page 73

I observed the two men, collared slaves, squaring off against one another in the sand. Both were stripped to the waist. The hair
of both was bound back with a band of cloth. Each carried, sheathed, a hook knife. The edges of the sheath were coated with a
bluish pigment.
"These men are the champions among male slaves at hook knife," said Cernus. He scarcely glanced up from the game board at
which he sat across from Caprus, of the Caste of Scribes, Chief Accountant of the House. Assassin of Gor, page 86

The third lot was a High Caste girl of Cos who stood before us clad in the complete robes of Concealment, which, piece by piece,
were removed from her. She was beautiful, and had been free; she was not trained; she was of the Scribes, and had been
picked up by pirates from Port Karl She did nothing to move the buyers but stood, head down, numb on the block until she was
completely revealed. Her movements were wooden. The crowd was not pleased. There was only a two gold piece bid. Then
taking the whip from the whip slave the auctioneer stepped to the disconsolate girl; suddenly, without warning, he administered
to her the Slaver's caress, the whip caress, and her response was utterly, and uncontrollably, wild,
helpless. She regarded him with horror. The crowd howled with delight. Suddenly she threw herself, screaming hysterically, on
the auctioneer, but he cuffed her to one side and she fell to her knees weeping. She was sold for twenty-five gold pieces.
Assassin of Gor, page 294, 295

The door burst open and five men entered, Cernus, wild-eyed, suddenly haggard, and behind him Philemon, of the Caste of
Scribes, the man who had commanded the fifty tarnsmen who had ridden against me in the Stadium of Tarns, and two Taurentian
guardsmen.
Philemon, of the Caste of Scribes, his eyes wide with fear, threw a look after the guards, and then he, too, turned and fled.
Assassin of Gor, page 380

Inge then knelt before Targo. "I am of the scribes," she said, "of high caste. Do not permit this to be done to me!"
"Your ears will be pierced," said Targo.
She wept, and was dragged back to her place in line.  Captive of Gor, page 158
"I must commend you," said Shaba. "You have powers of observation worthy of a scribe-or of a warrior."
He turned the chain and slipped a ring from it, handing it to me.
Geographers and cartographers, of course, are members of the Scribes. Explorers of Gor, page 213

"I am a scribe, and a man of science and letters,� said Shaba. “Surely you can understand the importance of the ring to
me."
"It can bring wealth and power," I said.
"Such things are not of interest to me," said Shaba. The tribal stitching of tattoo marks on his dark face wrinkled with a smile.
"But I do not expect you to believe that," he said.
"I do not," I said.
"How hard it is for two who do not share caste to understand one another," he said.
"Perhaps,"I said. Dancer of Gor, page 431

"Your man was courageous to come and fetch us," I said.
"He is Ngumi," said Shaba. "He is courageous, indeed. We did not know if he would get through."
"I did not know a scribe could be so courageous." I said.
"There are brave men in all castes," said Shaba. Dancer of Gor, page 433

"Do not think too poorly of me, Tarl," said Shaba. "This was to me the opportunity of a lifetime. If I have erred, I have erred in the
cause of my caste and in that, more generally, of humankind." He regarded me, a little sadly. "What do you think Priest-Kings
would do with the ring?" he asked. “It would not be important to them. But to me, to men, it is momentous. Indeed, I doubt
that Priest-Kings would even wish to permit the use of the ring to men. It seems possible to me they would regard its use as
contravening their structures on human technology." Dancer of Gor, page 434

"I am grateful," had said Ramani of Anango, who had once been the teacher of Shaba. I had delivered to him, and to two others
of his caste, the maps and notebooks of Shaba. Ramani and his fellows had wept. I had then left them, returning to my lodgings.
Copies would be made of the maps and notebooks. They would then be distributed by caste brothers throughout the cities of
civilized Gor. The first copies that were made by anyone had already, however, been made, by the scribes of Bila Huruma in
Ushindi. Ramani need not know this. Dancer of Gor, page 454
Caste of Scribes
This research is done on the series of books written by John Norman, the comments in italics are mine and my point of view.
Woman of Gor
All rights reserved.