Many moons have passed and red hair has recovered from her ordeal with the wealthy farmers, she is still intent on her revenge on them, but for now she intends to let the paga flow and be merry.
There is a popular but erroneous belief that assassins of Gor always wear black. The reality, however is that no true assassin would ever draw attention to himself by doing so – an assassin or black caste as they are also known as , works by stealth and will go to great lengths to avoid being noticed. Tar Meno dresses like a farmer, spoke like a farmer, acted like a farmer, he would even make sure he had some soil under his finger nails so that he smelled like a farmer. Nevertheless he was of the black caste – a dedicated and highly paid killer – and tonite he would indulge in his grisly trade.
It was early evening and Whispering Moons tavern was doing brisk trade as it always did when the Forest Moon and Ja lina and for that matter any panther from many pasangs around came to share banter, do trade and drink paga or watch the pretty slave girls dance in the dancing pits.
Tar sat quietly at a table near the wall, nursing a mug of paga and chatting in a formerly way with some of the panther girls. His victim was sitting at the next table with her back towards him. Identifying her had been laughingly easy, a young shapely woman with flame red hair, carrying a notched bow and leathers that exposed more than what they protected. He did not know the womans name, nor why his paymaster wanted her captured, preferably dead. Such details were of no interest to Tar, he only cared that his pouch would be richly filled with gold tarsk coins.
The red head was drinking deeply and holding an animated conversation with two traders at her table. She’d cast aside her fur and Tar could see her ribcage each time she moved. It would be easy to lean forward, slide a dagger between two of those ribs and fulfill his contract without even leaving his chair. But the tavern was too public a place for him to act. A black caste strikes in secret and departs unseen. And so Tar waited patiently. He had great reserves of patience and was sure an opportunity would present itself.
It came soon enough when a large fat panther girl from the Jesuils stood up, tripped over a chair and fell into the dancing pits, spilling her paga all over the bare breasts of the slave girls. Instantly, everyone in the tavern, the red head included, turned to laugh at the Jesuils clumsiness. Every one that is except for Tar confident that all eyes were elsewhere, produced a small flask, unstoppered it and emptied its contents in his victims paga.
Presently the uproar died down and everyone returned to what they had been doing. The red head laughed as she proposed a toast to the Jesuil for her entertainment and all were merry in the tavern. Then over in another corner of the tavern Sav of the Forest Moon stood up and began to sing a song. It was long and bawdy, with many verses and rousing lyrics in which much to the delight of Sav all panthers joined in. Tar watched the red head out of the corner of his eye. To begin with she sang as loudly as the rest, but by the fourth repetition her enthusiasm was clearly waning. When the chorus was sung for the sixth time she did not join in at all, but sat slumped with her head in her hands. A little later she rose groggily to her feet and made her way unsteadily towards the door.
By eavesdropping Tar had learned that the red head was part of the Forest Moon tribe, to which she was obviously heading to sleep off (as she supposed) her drink. Tar smiled to himself, the liquid he had poured into the paga was not strictly speaking a poison, it was essence of frobicain, that would cause whoever drank it to sleep a long deep sleep, before waking up with a sore head, except Tar had no intention of letting the red head wake up.
Tar followed the red head as she left the small river settlement and headed down the muddy path leading to the nearby Whispering Moon forest, he followed her stealthily for an ehn allowing the frobicain to take effect. He listened acutely, then heard some heavy breathing, the red head lay face down near a tree stump. In the bright moon light of the three Gorean moons he could see her hair obscuring her face and one arm trailing on the grass. Scattered untidily on the ground were a pair of boots, some leathers and furs.
Tar paused. He was a killer, cold blooded and aloof and a stranger to emotions like pity of remorse. Yet, he was still a man and now a deeper instinct gnawed at him. He reached down, took hold of the leathers and drew them gently away from the sleeping woman, who did not stir. Tar ran his tongue down his dry lips. It was as he had supposed, she was almost naked except for her leather loincloth and her hand holding a fur which seemed to further accentuate her naked form.
And what a form, feline, yet muscular but very much breathtakingly feminine, with curves in all the right places and legs that could choke the Priest Kings on their nectar. There were women, Tar reflected, in the pleasure houses of Ar whose Owners fee was almost as much as he charged for a death (in spite of which, he remembered with a smile, their fee was well worth paying); but this female once collared could demand twice as much for her Owner and not lack for customers. Tar leaned over her sleeping form laid a hand on her shoulder, then ran his fingers down her spine, over the swell of her splendid rounded ass…….
Faster than an ost could strike, the woman sat up, reached into her furs and produced a small but glitteringly sharp dagger which she drove deep into Tar’s throat. His eyes bulged with astonishment and he collapsed to the ground. A pool of blood began to form around him.
The woman’s almond shaped eyes met his, her lips curled up in a wicked smile.
“Tal male, in case you don’t know already, I am Red hair of Forest Moon and you’re not the first to try and kill me and you’re not the first who has failed”
Tar’s mouth worked, but no sound came out. His body started twitching.
“No doubt you’re wondering about the drug” Red hair continued in an amicable tone “Frobicain was it? It has a slight smell, only very slight and only a healer like myself would even notice it, besides I try to stay alert all the time. Oh yes , you saw me drink paga, but you didn’t see me spit it right back in the mug. Well most of it anyway, I do feel a bit light headed, which is probably why I am explaining all this to you. Unfortunately, I am not quite light headed enough. Unfortunate for you that is”
Red hair rose and stood beside her would be nemesis, playfully pulling at her leather loincloth, before removing it and dropping it on the ground.
“There” she said “Do you realize that my nakedness is the last thing you will see as you die? I hope you think it was worth it?”
Tar of the black caste made no reply. His body twitched one last time, then he ceased to be alive.
Red hair smiled once more, she gathered her belongings and prepared to head back to her camp.
This ongoing story is set in the second life universe of Gor. Featuring some famous and infamous places and characters of second life Gor. Loosely based on my role play experiences as the panther girl known as Marli “Red hair”
Her continuing adventures to follow soon.