Welcome to Torvaldsland!

Torvaldsland is a cruel, harsh, rocky land. It contains many cliffs, inlets and mountains. Its arable soil is thin and found in patches. The size of the average farm is very small. Good soil is rare and highly prized. Communication between farms is often by sea, in small boats. Without the stream of Torvald it would probably be impossible to raise cereal crops in sufficient quantity to fee even its relatively sparse population. There is often not enough food under any conditions, particularly in northern Torvaldsland, and famine is not unknown. In such cases men feed on bark, and lichens and seaweed. It is not strange that the young men of torvaldsland often look to the sea, and beyond it, for their fortunes. Marauders of Gor, p 54.

Visitors and those wishing to settle here.

All are welcome to visit Torvaldsland, with an exception to be mentioned later. The men of Torvaldsland are a friendly bunch and will accept visitors to the Great Halls and landings. Respect and honor is given to all those deserving such, but once crossed, beware, the men of Torvaldsland will be upon you. As Ivar ForkBeard welcomed Tarl Red Hair to join him, I, Jarl Drangus, self proclaimed Jarl of Jarls of Torvaldsland, invite you as well to join in with us.

The one exception, as mentioned earlier, are the Kurii. They are not welcome, as they have shown in the past they are without honor and can not be trusted.

Men and the Kurii, where they met, which was usually only in the north, regarded one another as mortal enemies. Marauders of Gor, p 92-93.

In the far distance, the moonlight reflected from its snowy heights I saw, too, the Torvaldsberg, in which the legendary Torvald was reputed to sleep, supposedly to waken again if needed once more in Torvaldsland. Marauders of Gor p. 192.

Many of them were giants, huge men, inured to the cold, accustomed to war and the labor of the oar, raised from boyhood on steep, isolated farms near the sea, grown strong and hard on work, and meat and cereals. Such men, from boyhood, in harsh games had learned to run, to leap, to throw the spear, to wield the sword, to wield the axe, to stand against steel, even bloodied, unflinching. Such men, these, would be the hardest of the hard, for only the largest, the swiftest and finest might win for themselves a bench on the ship of a captain, and the man great enough to command such as they must be first and mightiest among them,.... Marauders of Gor, p 38.

All men of Torvaldsland, incidentally, even if otherwise unarmed, carry a knife at their master belt. The sword, when carried, and it often is, is commonly supported might be mentioned, the common Gorean practice. It can also, of course, be hung, by its sheath and sheath straps, form the master belt, which is quite adequate, being a stout heavy belt, to hold it. It is called the master belt, doubtless, to distinguish it from the ax belt and the sword belt, and because it is, almost always worn. A pouch, of course, and other accoutrements my hang, too, from it. Gorean garments, generally, do not contain pockets. Some say the master belt gets its name be cause it is used sometimes in the disciplining of bond-maids. This seems to be a doubtful origin for the name. It is true, however, questions of the origin of the name aside, that bond-maids, stripped, are often taught obedience under its lash. Marauders of Gor p 50-51.

The men of Torvaldsland sang with great voices. The oars, two men to an oars lifted and dipped. The helmsman leaned on the tiller of the great steering oar. Marauders of Gor, p 54.

In the long winters of Torvaldsland, when the snow, the darkness, the ice and wintry winds are upon the land, when the frost breaks open the rocks, groaning, at night, when the serpents hide in their roofed sheds, many hours, under swinging soapstone lamps, burning the oil of sea sleen, are given to Kaissa. At such times, even the bond-maids, rolling and restless, naked, in the furs of their masters, their ankles chained to a nearby ring, must wait. Marauders of Gor, p 58.

She was a large breasted woman. The men of Torvaldsland are fond of such women. Marauder of Gor p 44.

"Look!" cried Pudding. "A silk girl!" The expression `silk girl!' is used, often, among bond-maids of the north, to refer to their counterparts in the south. The expression reflects their belief that such girls are spoiled, excessively pampered, indulged and coddled, sleek pets, who have little to do but adorn themselves with cosmetics and await their masters, cuddled cutely, on plush, scarlet coverlets, fringed with gold. Marauders of Gor,  p.144

She stood very still, facing the couch, at its foot. She was a bond-maid. She was property. She was owned. "Force me," she whispered. Bond-maids know they are chattel, and relish being treated as such. Deep in the belly, too, of every female is a desire, more ancient than the caves, to be forced to yield to the ruthless domination of a magnificent , uncompromising male, a master; deep with in them they all wish to submit, vulnerably and completely, nude, to such a beast. Marauders of Gor, p.136

In the northern villages, and in the forest towns, and northward on the coast the woman do not veil themselves, as is common in the cities to the south. Marauders of Gor, p 25.

Accordingly, to her astonishment, Bera, who had been the companion of Svein Blue Tooth, discovered suddenly that she was only one wench among others. From a line, as part of his spoils, the Blue Tooth picked her out. She had displeased him mightily in recent years. Yet was the Blue Tooth fond of the arrogant wench. It was not until he had switched her, like any other girl, that she understood that their relationship had undergone a transformation, and that she was, truly, precisely what she seemed to be, now his bond-maid. Marauders of Gor, p 277-278.

"Go to the bond-maid circle," said Ivar Forkbeard, indicating the circle he had drawn in the dirt. The women cried out in misery. To enter the circle, if one is a female, is, by the laws of Torvaldsland, to declare oneself a bond-maid. A woman, of course, need not enter the circle of her own free will. She may, for example be thrown within it naked and bound. Howsoever, she enters the circle, voluntarily or by force, free or secured, she emerges from it, by the laws of Torvaldsland, as a bond-maid…. Marauders of Gor, p 44-45.

The brand used by Forkbeard is not uncommon in the north, though there is less uniformity in Torvaldsland on these matters than in the south, where the merchant caste, with its recommendations for standardization, is more powerful. All over For, of course, the slave girl is a familiar commodity. The brand used by the Forkbeard, found rather frequently in the north, consisted of a half circle, with, at its right tip, adjoining it, a steep, diagonal line. The half circle is about an inch and a quarter in width, and the diagonal line about an inch and a quarter in height. The brand is, like many, symbolic. In the north, the bond-maid is sometimes referred to as a woman whose belly lies beneath the sword. Marauders of Gor, p 87.

Guidelines for the Region of Torvaldsland

The guidelines for this region of AOL Gor follow closely the guidelines established for AOL Gor.

However, there are some modifications that will be explained.

First of all mun consent is necessary for all actions taken between characters. Developing a SL just to cause havoc and create problems for a given mun or group, is foolish and childlike. We all pay or money to be here so let's be adults about it.

Torvaldsland is not a board game ruled by dice rolling. Torvaldsland is to be an interactive novel based on the writings of John Norman about the world of Gor, focusing on the #9 book in the series, Marauders of Gor. It is unbelievable to think that Norman sat with a pair of dice deciding what would happen to Tarl Cabot in each chapter as he wrote. But he used his imagination to create situations that were interesting and exciting to the reader. Now, in Torvaldsland, you too, can have that creativity to develop an interactive novel or role play with people that have that same love of the books. Yes, there were deaths in the books and people were killed. But not the main characters that Norman created, nor should the main characters here in Torvaldsland be sacrificed for what could turn out to be a bad storyline. If you wish to create "throw away" characters that will die, fine, but remember the sanctity of mun consent with regard to main characters. The dice rolling brings in a degree of randomness to a storyline and can bring up situations  that have to be dealt with in a storyline, so use the dice accordingly.

Unlike many of the cities on Gor, strangers are welcomed to visit and stay if they wish in Torvaldsland. As Ivar ForkBeard welcomed Tarl Cabot, as the men of Torvaldsland invited strangers from different cities to participate in the "Thing", as they were going to allow the Kurii to cross their lands until the Kurii showed no honor and attacked the men of Torvaldsland, we welcome all to visit, join in, or develop story lines with us. But be warned, foolishness will not be tolerated. Avoid realmers! Do not interact with them. Calling them "realmers" or "non Gorean" and getting into arguments with them only gives them what they what. Just ignore them!  But beware as in the book Marauders of Gor, the men of Torvaldsland will go "frenzy" when the are challenged on their own soil and my interpertation of that is a dice roll higher then that of the kur dice (2 dice- 25 sides).  The men of Torvaldsland use 2 dice - 24 sides and go "frenzy" when challenged on their soil (homeland, only) by a 4 men to 1 man ratio by increasing to 2 dice - 27 sides.  It seemed first a ghastly infection, a plague; then it seemed like a fire, invisible and consuming; then it seemed like the touching of these men by the hands of gods, but no gods I knew, none to whom a woman or child might dare pray, but the gods of men, and of the men of Torvaldsland, the dread, harsh divinities of the cruel north, the gods of Torvaldsland. And the touch of these gods, like their will, was terrible. Ivar Forkbeard suddenly threw back his head and, silently, screamed at the sky. The thing had touched him. The breathing of the men, their energy, their rage, the fury, was all about me. A bowstring was being drawn taut. I heard the grinding of teeth on steel, the sound of men biting at their own flesh. I could no longer look on Ivar Forkbeard. He was not the man I had known. In his stead there stood a beast.  Marauders of Gor p. 246-247.

This region is a work in progress right now and will continue to develop in the coming days and weeks, but this is a start. If you would like to join in contact me Jarl Drangus or any of the members of the House of Torvald and let us know of your interest.

Be well and Praise be to Odin!

Crooked Tarn Tavern

The Thing