All rights reserved.
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
Marlenus looked down at me. "What can you, a simple
tarnsman, know of these things?" he asked. "But I,
Marlenus, though a warrior, was more than a warrior,
always more than a warrior. Where others could see
no more than the codes of their castes, where others
could sense no call of duty beyond that of their Home
Stone, I dared to dream the dream of Ar-- that there
might be an end to meaningless warfare, bloodshed,
and terror, an end to the anxiety and peril, the
retribution and cruelty that cloud our lives - I dreamed
of Ar a new world, a world of honor and law, of power
and justice." Tarnsman of Gor, page 155

I opened the leather bundle. In it I found the scarlet
tunic, sandals and cloak which constitute the normal
garb of a member of the Caste of Warriors. This was as
it should be, as I was of that caste, and had been since
that morning, some seven years ago, when in the
Chamber of the Council of High Castes I had accepted
weapons from the hands of my father, Matthew Cabot,
Administrator of Ko-ro-ba, and had taken the Home
Stone of that city as my own. Outlaw of Gor, page 21,22
Warrior of Gor
Tarl Cabot
Like most members of my Caste, more than the monstrous tarns, those carnivorous hawk like giants of Gor, I dreaded such creatures
as the tiny ost, that diminutive, venomous reptile, orange, scarcely more than a few inches in length, that might lurk at one's very
sandal and then, without provocation or warning, strike, its tiny fangs the prelude to excruciating torment, concluding only with sure
death. Among warriors, the bite of an ost is thought to be one of the most cruel of all gates to the Cities of Dust; far preferable to
them are the rending beak, the terrible talons of a tarn. Outlaw of Gor, page118

Had I now become so much the Gorean warrior that I could disregard the feelings of a fellow creature, in particular those of a girl,
who must be protected and cared for? Could it be that I had, as the Codes of my Caste recommended, not even considered her, but
merely regarded her as a rightless animal, no more than a subject beast, an abject instrument to my interests and pleasures, a
slave? Priest-Kings of Gor, page 47, 48

If it turned out badly, what I did, I would have no defense other than that I did what I did for my friend for him and for his brave kind,
once hated enemies, whom I had learned to know and respect. There is no loss of honor in failing to achieve such a task, I told
myself. It is worthy of a warrior of the caste of Warriors, a swordsman of the high city of Ko-ro-ba, the Towers of the Morning.
Nomads of Gor, page 8

I stood back and made no move to draw my weapon. Though I was of the caste of warriors and he of peasants, and I armed and he
carrying naught but a crude tool, I would not dispute his passage. One does not lightly dispute the passage of one who carries his
Home Stone. Nomads of Gor, page 1

"But I am of the Caste of Warriors," I said, "of a high city and we do not stain our spears for the stones of men not, even such stones
as these. "You dare to tempt me," I said, feigning anger, "as if I beyond the dreams of a man, were of the Caste of Assassins or a
common thief with his dagger in the night." I frowned at him. "Beware," I warned, "lest I take your words as insult." Nomads of Gor,
page 20, 21

"Since I am Ubar of Ar," said Cernus to me, "and of the Caste of Warriors"

There was mirth at the tables, but a look from Cernus silenced it in a moment.

"I am concerned," continued Cernus, "to be fair in all matters and thus propose that we wager for your freedom."

I looked up in surprise.

"Bring the board and pieces," said Cernus. Philemon left the room. Cernus looked down at me and grinned. "As I recall, you said that
you did not play." Assassin of Gor, page 317,318

"You have nothing," said I, "Cernus." I regarded him evenly. "You have lost all."

"Do not strike me," he begged. "Do not strike me!"

"But," I laughed, "you are first sword of the House of Cernus. You are even, I hear, of the Caste of Warriors."

"Do not strike me!" he whimpered. Assassin of Gor, page 382

“My city,” I said, “was the city of Ko-ro-ba. It is sometimes called the Towers of Morning.”

“Surrender,” whispered Sarus.

“Long ago,” I said, “I dishonored my caste, my Home Stone, my blade. Long ago, I fell from the warriors. Lone ago, I lost my honor.”
Hunters of Gor, page 275

But I recalled that I had, in the stockade of Tyros, recollected the matter of honor. I had entered the stockade alone, not expecting to
survive. It was not that I was the friend of Marlenus of Ar, or his ally. It was rather that I had, as a warrior, or one once of such as
caste, set myself the task of his liberation. Marauders of Gor, page 5

"It is you who wear the scarlet," he said. "I am only a poor porter."

"Surely you have heard things," I said. I sheathed my knife. I sensed it might be making the fellow nervous.

"I have heard there are thousands of Cosians, their auxiliaries, and their mercenaries, at Ar´s Station," he said. "Of that is true, they
must outnumber the regulars in Ar´s Station by as many as ten to one."

"Equipment, supplies?" I asked.

"They brought with them the devices for siege work from Brundisium," he said. "I suppose that, too, must be the source of their

That seemed to me to make sense. If it were true, however, why had Ar´s tarnsmen not attempted to interdict these supply routes?
If they had, I had heard nothing of it.

"The fighting at Ar´s Station, by report, has been lengthy and fierce," said the man. "Her walls are defended by common citizens as
well as soldiers. The Cosians, I think, did not expect such resistance.

I supposed not.

"You are of the red caste," said the fellow. "Why is Cos interested in Ar´s Station?"

"I am not fully sure," I said, "but there could be various reasons, and some of them would seem obvious. As you know much of the
friction between Cos and Ar has to do with their economic competitions in the Vosk Basin. Taking Ar´s Station would, in a stroke,
diminish the major citadel of Ar´s Salerian Confederation and the Vosk League. Renegades of Gor, page33  

In particular I find it difficult to write. In defense I might point out that I can print Gorean fairly well, and can sign my name with a
deftness which actually suggests to those who do not know better that I am fully literate in the language. In further defense I might
point out that many warriors, for no reason that is clear to me, seem to take pride in a putative lack of literacy. Indeed, several
fellows I have known, of the scarlet caste, take pains to conceal their literacy, seemingly ashamed of an expertise in such matters,
regarding such as befitting scribes rather than warriors. Thus, somewhat to my embarrassment, I found I fitted in well with such
fellows. I have known, incidentally, on the other hand, several warriors who were quite unapologetic about literacy interests and
capacities, men who were, for example, gifted historians, essayists and poets. Magicians of Gor, page 76

“He is from the place called “Earth”, too,” said Marcus. Marcus, of high caste, was familiar with various tenets of the second
knowledge, such things as the roundness of his world, its movement in space, and the existence of other planets. On the other hand
he remained sceptical of many of these tenets as he found them offensive to common sense. He was particularly suspicious of the
claim that the human species had an extraterrestrial origin, namely, that it did not originate on his own world, Gor. It was not that he
denied there was a place called “Earth” but he thought it must be somewhere on Gor, perhaps east of the Voltai Range or south of
the Tahari. Marcus and I had agreed not to discuss the issue. I had no ready response, incidentally, to his suggestion that the human
race might have originated on Gor and then some of these folks, perhaps transported by Priest-Kings, had been settled on Earth.
Indeed, although I regarded this as quite unlikely, it seemed an empirical possibility. For example, anthropoidal fossils can be found
on Gor, as well as on Earth, and so on. At any rate, Marcus found it much easier to believe that magic existed than that his world was
round, that it moved, and that there might be other worlds rather like it here and there in the universe. In fact, in his philosophy, so
to speak, the universe was still of somewhat manageable proportions. Sometimes I rather envied him. Magicians of Gor, page 295,

"You are of the Warriors," he said.
"It is true," I said. Never had I been divested of the scarlet. Let who would, with steel, dispute my caste with me.
"Well," said the man on the dais. "It is late, and we must all retire. You must be up before dawn." Tribesmen of Gor, Page 218

He is a captain, a guardsman of Port Cos,” said Callimachus. “He is skilled with the sword. He is shrewd, I regard Him as a good
“It was he, was it not,” I asked, “who acceded to your command in Port Cos, following your being relieved of your duties?”
“It was,” smiled Callimachus, “but I assure you I shall not hold that against him, nor will it interfere with my capacity to work closely
with him.”
“If he chooses to work with you”. I said.
“Of course,” shrugged Callimachus.
“Do you think he will remember you?” I asked.
“I would think so,” said Callimachus, ruefully.
“It was evidence brought against Callisthenes in Port Cos five years ago by Callimachus,” said Tasdron, “which cost him an early
promotion, a matter of minor peculation.”
“Such things are not unknown,” said Callimachus, “but I chose not to accept them in my command.”
“I understand,” I said. I had a respect for caste honor. Honor was honor, in small things as well as great. Indeed, how can one
practice honor in great things, if not in small things? Rogue of Gor, page 231
I am of the Caste of Warriors, and it is in our codes that the only death fit for a man is that in battle, but I can no longer believe that
this is true, for the man I met once on the road to Ko-ro-ba died well, and taught me that all wisdom and truth does not lie in my own
codes. Priest-Kings of Gor, page 14

Yet such times are good in the life of a warrior, times to be alone, to think.
He who cannot think is not a man, so saith the codes. Yet neither, too, they continue, is he who can only think. Vagabond of Gor,
page 65

“Hear,” said Labienus to his men. “He is of the Warriors.”
“He says he is,” said a fellow, glumly.
“What is the 97th Aphorism in the Codes?” inquired Labienus.
“My scrolls may not be those of Ar,” I said. To be sure, the scrolls should be, at least among the high cities, in virtue of conventions
held at the Sardar Fairs, particularly the Fair of En´Kara, much in agreement.
“Will you speak?” asked Labienus.
“Remove the female,” I said.
“He is a Warrior,” said one of the men.
One of the men lifted the bound Ina in his arms, one hand behind the back of her knees, and the other behind her back, and carried
her from where we were gathered. In a few moments he returned.
“The female is now out of earshot?” inquired Labienus, staring ahead.
“Yes,” said the fellow, “and she will stay where I left her, on her back, as I tied her hair about the base of a stout shrub.”
“The 97th Aphorism in the Codes I was taught,” I said, “is in the form of a riddle: “What is invisible but more beautiful than
“And the answer?” inquired Labienus.
“That which is silent but deafens thunder.”
The men regarded one another.
“And what is that?” asked Labienus.
“The same,” said I, “as that which depresses no scale but is weightier than gold.”
“And what is that?” asked Labienus.
“Honor,” I said.
“He is of the Warriors,” said a man. Plenius turned away, stricken. Vagabond of Gor, page 305

They did so. I was now pleased that they did this. I was not certain, really, of the responses of Marcus. He was not a fellow of Earth,
but a Gorean. Too, he was of the Warriors, and his codes, in a situation of this sort, their weapons drawn, entitled him, even
encouraged him, to attack, and kill. Players of Gor, page 169

The distinction, of course, is between belonging to the caster of slavers and being a slaver. Whereas members of the caste of slavers
are slavers, not all slavers are members of the caste of slavers. For example, I am not of the slavers, but in Port Kar I am know as
Bosk, and he known as many things, among them pirate and slaver. Too, both Marcus and myself were of the warriors, the scarlet
caster, and as such were not above taking slaves. Such is not only permitted in the codes, but encouraged by them. “The slave is a
joy and a convenience to the warrior.” Neither of us, of course, was a member of the caste of slavers. It, incidentally, is sometimes
regarded as a subcaste of the merchants, and sometimes as an independent caste. It does have its own colors, blue and yellow,
whereas those of the merchants are yellow and white, or gold and white. Players of Gor, page 315

I took no note of the raised staff. I could, of course, at that point, have killed him. Players of Gor, page 315