Sky

Sky

The Wagon People sometimes pray to the "Spirit of the Sky." They are said to dance to "please the sky." They reverence the sky, and their mythology says that the rain created all things. They pray only when mounted on their kaiila. They pray as a Warrior to an Ubar, not as a servant to a god. They are deeply superstitious; they claim not to care for omens, but stories are told of how a warrior turned his entire army around and went back home based on the flight
of a passing bird. (Nomads of Gor)



It is beneath the multi-hued canopy that stretches as far as the eye can see, from horizon to horizon, that a man can truly feel the significance of his life. Far away from the sounds and smells of others. Far from the scorn and ridicule of women. So far from home that a man must even consider how and when his next meal will come.

"I am Kazhuye of the Tuchuks! Warrior and Year Keeper!" This I remind the great Sky Ubar as often as I speak to him, though I am certain he knows full well who I am. "I have come to seek your counsel and your wisdom." It is not merely for victory in crossing weapons with a certain Kassar, but for other entreaties as well that I don't call by name. For if anything, the gods do not favor redundant begging from men. Especially warriors.