Ar is the greatest city on Gor: a vast cluster of towering stone cylinders rising from the plains, linked by high bridges and ringed by walls so massive they look like cliffs. Lights burn in the towers at night; tarns circle above; markets, arenas, and slave houses fill the lower levels.

It is rich, crowded, proud, and old. Its people treat the city itself as something almost sacred—its Home Stone, its gates, its name. Warriors, merchants, scribes, and slaves all move through it under a strict caste order, and Ar’s citizens generally assume they sit at the peak of civilized life on the planet.

That pride has a cost. Ar has built empires, stolen other cities’ Home Stones, and later been betrayed, occupied, and humbled. Even then it remains the city others measure themselves against: magnificent, arrogant, dangerous, and never finished with war.