Nicandro of Treve

Ost Fang Slavers House



The Slaver

"Are the most beautiful and desirable women those who, generally, are the slaves?" she asked. "Yes," I said, "the most beautiful and desirable women on the planet seem generally to be the slaves." "Such women would be the prime target for the strike of slavers," she said. "Yes," I said. "A girl of low caste, of a poor family, who is truly beautiful, a girl who cannot afford shelter in a protected area, is almost certain, sooner or later, to find her neck ringed with a collar. As far as that goes, a girl of wealth and high caste, who is beautiful, is not out of danger. It is regarded as great sport to take them." "A sport of men," she said."
---John Norman's Gor


It is said that amongst some that Darkness, is truly a state of being - a private theology separate from the worship of the Priest-Kings practised by the hand and deed of cold, unscrupulous men. Men who predate their sadistic appetites upon the flesh of the weak and innocent. Men who's sordid whims are nourished by the tears and pleas of the lost, the unwary, the brutalized. That Darkness; true soul staining Darkness, slithers ost-like through the souls of such men as the Gorean Slaver's Caste. Such men require dens, fetid places of sublime, abbatorial darkness where the crack of the kurt mingles with the haunting rattle of inescapable chains. Where the pitiable moans of the enslaved drift down labyrinthine corridors, mingling with the heavy tread of conqueror's hobnailed sandals to diffuse amongst the shadows of such places before they ever reach the warm, golden promise of the tor.

Enter Nicandro Salvadore of Treve. Slaver of Gor, patron of the Ost Fang Slavers House. The men of Treve some claim, brutal most merciless, and demanding of masters.

The Compound

The Ost Fang Slavers compound is the largest and most heavily fortified construction that can be found at the Fulvian Hills Waystation. Its walls comprised of worked stone, its high, narrow windows -- such as they are -- barred and reinforced. The area thought of as its grounds encircled by a high palisade of sharpened stakes pounded into the cracked and broken ground. Sleen and men patrol the grounds, the battlements, the corridors beyond. That high barrier broken only by the single set of renforced gates that boast a true Gorean lock and bar to dissuade any hope of escape. Some claim, that if one enters the compound with their limbs weighted by chains, one is never again the same.

Here, one may purchase slaveflesh procured, broken, and trained by the wicked ministrations of the Slaver of unflinching Treve. Here, animals are bred for specific purpose as well as for truly unspeakable heights of obedience and perverse pleasure. The Ost Fang injects its venomous lessons into the blood of every tawdry scrap of flesh that cannot protect itself, cannot defend itself, or does not associate with those strong few who can offer that protection or defense in their stead. Not all men are prowling Larls after all.

There are also, waiting in the dark places, the Ost.

The Kennels

Coming Soon.