Post by Daubee on Mar 12, 2008 18:11:52 GMT -5
I drew my sword, lifting it easily from the sheath. It cleared the leather as easily and swiftly as a larl might have bared its fangs.”
Priest-Kings of Gor, page 174
It was pointless to unsheathe my sword, or to take up a weapon. From the safety of the yards of marsh water separating me from my enemies I could have been immediately slain, lost in a thicket of the two- or three-pronged marsh spears.
Raiders of Gor, page 12
“. . . the Tarn Keeper and the Saddle Maker cried out, and began to stamp their feet in the dust and pound their fists against their left shoulders. Then others watching cried out in glee. I myself removed my sword from its sheath and with it struck my shield.”
Assassin of Gor, page 36
Priest-Kings of Gor, page 174
It was pointless to unsheathe my sword, or to take up a weapon. From the safety of the yards of marsh water separating me from my enemies I could have been immediately slain, lost in a thicket of the two- or three-pronged marsh spears.
Raiders of Gor, page 12
“. . . the Tarn Keeper and the Saddle Maker cried out, and began to stamp their feet in the dust and pound their fists against their left shoulders. Then others watching cried out in glee. I myself removed my sword from its sheath and with it struck my shield.”
Assassin of Gor, page 36