The Green Tarn paga tavern in the city of Ar on Gor

The Green Tarn tavern is within fair walking distance of the stadium where tarn races are held.
It is decorated to cater to those who are fans of the Green faction.
"I know a good tavern," said he, "which favors the Greens. Many of the faction eat and drink there after the races."
"Good," I said. "I am hungry and would drink. Take me to this place."
The tavern, like the Capacian Baths, was within fair walking distance of the stadium. It was called, appropriately enough, the Green Tarn, and the proprietor was a genial fellow, bald and red-nosed, called Kliimus.
Assassin

Kliimus, the proprietor, dresses the paga slaves in green Pleasure silk
The walls and table tops are painted green
The curtains on the alcoves are green.
The Pleasure Slaves who served wore green Pleasure Silk, and the tops of the tables and the walls were also painted green; even the curtains on the alcoves by one wall were green.
Assassin

Lists and records of the Green faction racing tarns hang on the walls.
Memorabilia - harnesses & saddle rings from famous racers decorate the walls.
Drawings of tarns and famous riders adorn the tavern.
About the walls, here and there, were lists and records, inked on narrow boards; there were also, here and there, hanging on the walls, some memorabilia, such as saddle rings and tarn harnesses, suitably labeled as to their origin; there were also representations of tarns and some drawings of famous riders, who had brought victory to the Greens.
Assassin

Bosk steak, yellow bread, peas, Torian olives, golden brown suls with melted cheese.
Paga served in cups here.
The Tarn Keeper, who was called by those in the tavern Mip, bought the food, bosk steak and yellow bread, peas and Torian olives, and two golden-brown, starchy Suls, broken open and filled with melted bosk cheese. I bought the Paga, and several times we refilled our cups.
Assassin

Tonight, however, the tavern was relatively subdued, for the day had not been a good one for the Greens. And, instead of racing, many were discussing the case of the daughter of the Hinrabian Administrator, speculating on her whereabouts, arguing about how the abduction, if abduction it was, could possibly have taken place within earshot of dozens of Taurentian guardsmen. There had apparently been no tarns near the central cylinder during the time, and, according to report, no strangers were known to have entered the cylinder. It was a mystery suitable to start all Ar conjecturing.
Assassin

Mip was a chipper fellow, and a bit dapper considering his caste and his close-cropped hair, for his brown leather was shot with green streaks, and he wore a Tarn Keeper's cap with a greenish tassel; most Tarn Keepers, incidentally, crop their hair short, as do most Metal Workers; work in the tarncots and in training tarns is often hard, sweaty work.
Mip, for some reason, seemed to like me, and he spoke much during the evening, as we drank together, of the factions, of the organizations of the races, of the training of tarns and riders, of the hopes of the greens and the other factions, of given riders and given birds. I suspected few knew as much of the races of Ar as Mip.
Assassin