FLUFF: Jammers: Turn 1 Chapter 1 Part 3

The Past Adventures of my Jammers PBEM game.

For me, one of the joys of PBEM gaming is the ability to revisit the
old adventures by reading the turn summaries. I think they make great
fan fiction.

This game has been going on since September, 1997. I thought folks
might enjoy reading the old turns in order, as fluff fiction. I know
I post the current turns as fluff as well, but the past turns were,
well, six years ago and new list members, as well as some old, may
still enjoy getting the old reads in their mailbox once per week. If
not, let me know and I'll stop sending them.

I had originally intended the game to focus on Bral, and urban
adventuring. Jamming would be just back drop. Of course, that quickly
went to the wayside and the first battle was a spelljamming
engagement, though since both ships were run by NPCs it was easy for
me to manipulate the action to create a boarding fight!

To give folks an idea of how much is still to come, the game is now
in Turn 21 of Chapter 7. Chapter 1 has 30 turns...

Turn 1 was huge, I had to divide it into 3 parts...

----------- = Meanwhile, elsewhere...
*********** = Later...

IC:
(continued from Part 2)

The second night out Leera's sleep shift coincides with that of the PC
hands, strange things happen in the bunk room.

Specifically, after Radick has fallen asleep, any PCs who remain awake
hear muttering from his bunk,  lamenting that he can not
find his "pooky bear", and that "but mommy, all of the other boys got
swords for their birthdays... I don't want no stupid axe!"  Finally,
those listening (probably now quite intently and with great amusement)
hear him asking his mommy for his "nuk nuk", followed by slurping noises
and then silence.

The next day Leera, when in earshot of several other PCs, asks Radick:
"So, did mommy's wittle wun fowget to pack his nuk nuk?"  She laughs and
walks away.

"Pon my soul, Cookie," Italapate starts one day while peeling tubers, "Captain
Wilhemina is harsh mistress, no?  How long have you served under her?"

"Hold your tongue concerning the Captain ya young snipe.  She gotten us
through many a tight spot and there's nota manjack of this crew who
wouldn't slit a vein to save her!  Yer lucky Lt Sabbagh just assigned ya to
this,  I'da fired you out the rear ballistae dead at the Rock!  Now get
scrubbing on those pans,  they won't clean themselves."  She then turns to
Holland and says "Hmm.  so you add how much anadian fireweed?"...

"Pon my soul, once again, Cookie!" Italapate ignores the pans for now,
after all, he hasn't finished peeling the potatoes he was originally
assigned. Then he looks up again and says simply,  "And Coyote continued
his travels, sometimes doing right, sometimes making mistakes, but
always is he doing something.  And all that is good and all that is bad
were made by him."
Upon finishing the pototoes, Italapate proceeds to clean the pots until
they shine, sometimes whistling, sometimes softly pounding a rhythm with
his fingertips.

The first mate later makes the time to speak with Italapate concerning his
"enthusiasm".  "Of course,  mocking the Captain would be an offense against
good order and discipline.  She'd never respond directly but as first mate,
if such continued,  I'd be honor bound to have the offender catapulted off
the ship.  Not for the first offense,  of course,  or even the second.  But
if such were to continue,  say after a friendly warning,  I might have to
do more then just assign someone to latrine and galley duty..."  with a
friendly smile Lt Sabbagh prepares to continue about his day.

"Pon my soul, Lt Sabbagh," Italapate says, "One would think no one
aboard this fine vessal has a sense of humor.  Have I failed in some, in
any duty assigned to me?  Have I not approached even this dispicable
task set before me with enthusiasm and perfection?  My Guardian Spirit
has faced far worse, always with humor, and I can, I will do no less.
Now if you think that I am not performing my duty, then be so kind as to
say so... if your only problem with me is a lack of humor... well, maybe
that is my purpose here..."

"I don't believe in lashing crewmembers,  but when someone ignores a
friendly warning that they're crossing the line it makes me wonder if I've
chosen my ethics correctly.  I see I must be more clear and forceful.  You
are not to mock the Captain.  Your humour should find other,  more
appropriate targets.  If I hear you speak the words ""Pon my Soul" again I
will have you tried for disobedience of orders.  Mocking the captain in
front of the crew is a hanging offence on most company's ships,  and is
usually considered the same as instigating a mutiney.  You are lucky I feel
you are just trying to fit in."  Lt Sabbagh's face is deadly serious.
Anyone can see he considers this matter very important.  "This is your last
warning."

The night after Radick was heard to mutter all types of embarrassing
things in his sleep, Leera makes an announcement:

"Friends,  I must admit to you  that I have done our friend Radick a
great disservice.  The voice you may have heard coming from his bunk
last night was not his own, but a trick of my Art. I realize that I was,
perhaps, a bit cruel and childish, and so I publicly apologize."

She looks at Radick as if she expects him to say something.

"Likewise, I spoke out of turn against Leera, my comments were meant in fun
and jest yet they could easily be misconstrued. Let it be said that my
comment to Talus was not entirely true - Leera did speak to me but it had
nothing to do with my sleeping accomodations.  Her words were to comfort me
regarding my earlier comment regarding her abilities. No one should take
these comments to mean anything against Leera's abilities." responds
Radick.

Later Leera regales the crew with a few stories:

{As she tells the story, the illusionary image before her changes to fit
the current scene}

"... so we continued slogging through the sewers. I must tell you, I
don't know why more evil creatures don't leave their treasure in sweet
smelling orchards.  But alas, it seems as if there is guild rule about
it... the bigger the treaure, the smellier the hiding place."

"We continued discussing such philosophical matters as we slogged.
Garth, my brave warrior friend carried with him the body of the child we
had recovered from the rats...."

.... Later....

"With the child's body returned to its parents (I really don't know if
they had the money to raise him) and all of the wererats killed by the
watch, we again tromped through the sewers searching for the ratmen's
treaure hoard. Suddenly, a ratman leaped out at us."

  {A gasp goes through the audience as the illusion shows a huge ratman
jump out in front of Leera and a large human she'd identified as Garth.}

"We were taken completely by surprise, and the abomination drove his
sword through Garth's brave heart before either of us could move a
muscle."

{The illusion turns gory as the viewers see an image of the wererat
impaling Garth on a wicked-looking longsword.}

"Fortunately, I was able to use my Art to drive away the fierce
creature."

{The illusion shows Leera throwing herself at the creature, who then
pales as it turns and flees at top speed}

"I tried to save my friend, but his wounds were severe and there was
nothing I could do. [she stifles a sniffle]"

"And so, even to this very day, the smell of sewage brings back horrid
memories.  Latrine duty is torture.  Oh, if only I didn't have to do it!
But the captain has decreed that we must all take turns.  Alas."

Bosun Cudak suppresses a sniffle,  then glares about to see if anyone was
watching "Er...I'll talk to the first mate,  lass,  see if we can work
something out."  Again he glares about daring someone to say something then
stomps off redfaced.

After Cudak departs, Deigatt lowers his head down toward Raken and Talus
who are standing near him and says, "Human women're known for going to
elaborate lengths to havoid work, but I have never hunderstood why their
men let them do hit."

Talus grins wistfully at Leera, and replies to the minotaur, "The rewards
can be great if you do as they wish.  And if you don't they can make your
life a living hell."

A few hours later Bosun Cudak stops and speaks to Leera,  "The first mate
says you should try putting a clothespin on your nose,  to help with the
memories."  Cudak looks at the ground sheepishly,  "Sorry."  With that
Cudak stalks off to splice some line.

Hearing Leera's sad story touches Billy's heart. After learning that
she couldn't weasle out of latrine duty, he approaches the subject one
morning as they were rising to start a new day. Looking across to her
bunk, Billy says, "'Morning, Leera. How wouldja like a trade? If the
Lt allows it I would take on your latrine duties against my galley duties.
All the counters and cupboard are at human heights and I have a tough
time doing any work in there. Whaddaya say?"

Leera replies: "Thank you, Billy. I think that that would be an even exchange."

"I would not say that we are even. Let's just say that I'm doing
you a favour... One day I may ask for one in return..." Billy leers at
Leera, licking his lips salaciously and looking her up and down.
He then smiles and winks, and puts his hands in his pockets as
he leaves for the latrines, whistling a little sea shanty.

Lt Sabbagh says "Sure" with a shrug of his shoulders when asked about the
trade,  and continues about his way.

At dinner one day:
"Mate Hitalapate," Deigatt booms after slurping down the last of a bowl of
warm soup. "You seem fond hof telling stories. Tell hus then how han
henvoy hof Prince Handru comes to find himself scrubbing toilets hon a
merchant vessel. Hand make hit good."

Italapate smiles to himself at Deigatt's request.  "I have been Prince
Andru's official latrine cleaner for years.  This ship is on a top
secret mission to retrieve the Prince from another planet in this
sphere.  So, I have been sent ahead to make sure that this ship's
latrine is up to his standards.  It is a very important job, I am
responsible for the Prince's safety.  You have no idea how many people
try to assassinate the Prince... and a smokepowder bomb in the clay pot
beneath you is a horrible, horrible way to go."

Holland talks with Lt. Sands the next day, "Sir, I have learned a bit about
Navigation and I was wondering if I may have access to the star-charts
as well as access to your experience to answer the questions that I am
bound to have."

"We can work on navigation a bit if you like,  but you may not have access
to the start charts.  Those are restricted to the captain and officers."
Lt Sands replies.

      "Hello below" is the warning as Kain drops from the rigging, his
bare feet slapping lightly against the deck as he lands.  "Holland, Sir,"
he says, nodding to each as he addresses the pair.  "I heard mention
of 'star-charts' from where I was working on the rigging," he continues,
pointing up to a spot on the rigging about twenty feet from the deck.
      "And though I'm no navigator, I've always had a good feel for
replicating maps and navigation charts.  On my...er...excuse me, on
the ships I've sailed, a great deal of my time has been spent
copying maps and charts.  Yet I know," he says holding up his
right hand palm outward, "star-charts are restricted.  All I ask is
that if there is a need to copy the charts, that I am allowed to offer
my services."

Lt Sands smiles "So many trying to put me out of a job.  And me a legless
old man too."  His grin grows wider "Starcharts are a trade secret,  my
friends,  House Moune must trust you far more first!  But I will keep both
your generous offers in mind."  Then,  pegleg stomping along,  Lt Sands
heads down to the mess for "A wee bit o'grog to help me think."

"That sounds fair Sir.  I was the assistant Navigator as well as a
Helmsman on my last berth.  If I could be assistance to you in any
manner don't be afraid to ask.  Thank you for your time Sir," Holland
gives him a friendly smile and heads off to the galley.

      With a smile Kain says, "Thank you Sir, Holland." Nodding again
to each man, he says "Fair weather to you both" before finding some
other task that needs doing on deck.  It's easy to see that Kain feels
much more comfortable away from the bustle of Bral.  He no longer
pushes words from his mouth in a rush, nor affects the meek
posture of those first days.

Italapate passes by Leera later on his way to the kitchen.  "Oh," he
swoons,  "I am off to the kitchen once more... My... My pet dog was just
killed in a horrible pot cleaning accident... the sight of those
terrible metal things still brings back _horrid_ memories.  Oh, if only
some kind woman would take my place."  He bats his eyes at her, his
lower lip stuck out and quivering.

With a perfectly straight face, Leera replies: "Oh, poor Italapate!"
She grasps him by the hand an sighs, saying: "Alas, my duties as a helmsman
require much study and rest.  I fear that I would be irresponsible indeed
if I were to neglect the needs of the ship in order to ease your suffering.
Perhaps your good friend, Lt. Sabbagh, will understand and relieve you of
your horrendous burden."  Leera brushes a tear from her eye and walks away.

Leera walks away, and Italapate looks surprised.  Then he laughs loud
and hard.  Shaking his head, he turns and walks to the galley.

And so the days pass with battlestation drills and a quickly
established routine.  After just five days the first farming astroid,
Torik's Luck appears off the port bow.  The ship approaches fast,  then
drops to tactical speed 5000 yards or so from the base.  Holland is on the
helm at the time,  and surprising everyone the captain leaves him there.
"'Pon my soul,  Lt Sabbagh,"  she cries "Pipe those new hands to stations
and let's see what they've learned!"  The docking at Torik's Luck goes
fairly well, the Captain only calling out once "'Pon my soul!  Put my ship
hard aginst this rock and you'll all wish you'd signed on as a sail hand
with the neogi!"

Torik's Luck certainly lived up to its title fo farming astroid,  nearly
every square inch on both sides of the elliptical astroid was covered with
fields and irrigation ditches (distributing water from a large central
lake).  With a solid 2 mile diameter the astroid was also dotted with
lonely looking ballista towers,  and farm houses.  The dock areas were
small,  holding four ships at the most and surrounded by warehouses and
silos.  Just a single inn/tavern and general store completed the small town
by the docks.

The ship spent about six hours on Torik's Luck,  unloading about half its
original cargo and filling the cargo holds with sacks of grains and
vegetables.   The work was long and tiring,  everyone was glad when it came
time to set sail again. Leaving the asteroid behind the ship continued at
tactical speed,  easing through the asteroid field on its way to Fenagle.

Four hours after leaving Torik's Luck the bosun's high pitched whistle
begin beating the call for general quarters.  The veterans are already on
sail watch,  and Leera is on the helm.  Stumbling wearily out of bed you
rush to your stations,  certain this is just another of the captain's
drills.  Arriving on deck you here the lookout call again "2 vessels off
the port bow!".  Everyone who can glances that way.  About 6000 yards away
a slim vessel with a single tail sail is apparently pursuing a groundling
caravel.  The ships are to far away to make much out.  The Captain is
standing on the forecastle watching it all through a telescope.  She
suddenly takes it down  "LT SANDS!"she bellows "ORDER THE HELMSMAN TO
INTERCEPT THAT EELSHIP!  LT SABBAGH,  LOAD ALL WEAPONS AND ORDER THE
BOARDING PARTY TO PREPARE PERSONAL MISSILE WEAPONS!  STEP LIVELY,  NOW!
THAT CARAVEL NEEDS OUR AID AND I'LL NOT SEE HER LET DOWN!"

Date/Time: First half of the 4th Month, 5049 OC
I had not yet started keeping careful count of time.
--
"...And nobody is to be killed at all, if it can be helped. Keep your
tempers and hold your hands until the last possible moment!"
"But if there are many of these ruffians," said Merry, "it will
certainly mean fighting. You won't rescue Lotho, or the Shire, just
by being shocked and sad, my dear Frodo."

Paul Westermeyer,  pwestermeyer@????????.??.com