This is Gor. It is not your Earth. The Priest-Kings keep it that way. They watch from the Sardar and allow us steel, leather, and the strength of our hands—nothing more. Cities rise where men are strong enough to hold them. Ar is the greatest. Port Kar answers to no one but its captains. Between the walls lie plains, mountains, and the open sky where tarns fly and men die. We live by caste and by nature. A man is measured by what he can take and what he can keep. Women of the free wear the robes of concealment or they do not. Those who are collared are kajirae. That is not cruelty to us. It is order. The collar is honest. Your world pretends otherwise. There are no machines here to hide behind. Only the sword, the word, and the will. If you walk these stones, you will learn quickly which of those three you possess.