We sailed slowly and carefully towards our target, the Garcia-17 archipelago, a bleak wilderness of asteroids and islands with no civilization and no known natural resources, several days from any trade routes. Like hundreds of other locations in Wildspace, there was no reason for any sensible person to go there. But here I was, preparing to face the unknown hazards of an ecosystem charted by elf scouts decades earlier, with an untested crew of civilians and weaker adventurers, because it might contain the right type of turnip.
Our mission seemed insane at first, but after talking with Gladys and thinking about Martin's plans for the League, I had realized why it was actually brilliant. Martin Cooper, the great and powerful wizard that made a special study of people and their cultures, was working to turn the League from a simple set of nonaggression treaties and trade deals into an actual multiracial civilization. In order to do that, he needed to create safe spaces where people of all races could meet and bond, and one of those places was a restaurant in Boomport. He was designing the restaurant's food so that all the people in the League, no matter what their biology was, could safely eat it. This was a hard problem, and it would require a lot of exotic ingredients. Like wildspace turnips.
Gladys was the one who understood the chemistry of this, but I was the one who understood Martin's long-term mission and appreciated the social value of bonding over food. If our mission was a success, then Martin's plan would be one step closer to working. The people of the League would be brought closer together, one meal at a time. And if my personal mission was a success, then I would be the one who helped him make it work. We would create a great civilization together, as husband and wife, and our story would echo down the centuries.
I cheered myself up by imagining that the land ahead of us would one day be tamed and civilized by people from the League. In a hundred years, there might be a farming village here, with people living their lives, making their stories of carving a home from the wild frontier. And if I was very lucky, one of them might remember me as a founding mother of her civilization, a person who was there at the beginning and helped make it all happen.
But before that, we all had to focus on not being eaten by whatever beast lurked among the floating space rocks. We were all on high alert, even Mary, whose instincts would have been to admire the 'natural beauty' of this horrible storyless place until something ate her. I started barking out orders, not because anyone needed to be told their jobs again, but because the magic of my bardic voice would keep everyone focused, confident, and better at their tasks.
We were approaching in a quiet careful way, avoiding any unnecessary sounds, lights, or smells, in hopes of detecting any predators or other wildlife before we were detected. But we were openly flying our colors, and not being overly stealthy, because we would not want to get mistaken for raiders or pirates by any new outpost or prospector's camp that might have sprung up somehow. Anyone affiliated with the League should have registered their presence, but there are a lot of people in Freespace that are not part of the League or do not fill out its paperwork, and most of them will be peaceful if you avoid startling or antagonizing them.
But as expected, there was no sapient life. Just a food chain that consisted mainly of goats and owlbears.
Good tactics rarely make good stories. If you end up in a desperate and dramatic fight for your life on a mission like this, it means that you are an incompetent fool. Our campaign of owlbear extermination was designed to be careful and methodical, conserving our resources and generating no real risk or drama or suspense. We mostly succeeded in this goal.
Our tactics were always the same: one 'lone' person baited it to attack, focusing entirely on defense. An initial surprise volley of five shots or spells from the hidden crew surprised it as it swept in, and then we peppered it with more attacks as soon as we could.
We killed four on the first day, with Gladys taking a few hits and me using a couple spells to heal her, as expected. On the second day, Gladys was the bait for the first two, and after she got hit twice, we switched up, with Sofonisba being the bait. Then we killed three more without her getting hit.
With the ninth kill, we had sailed the entire archipelago. Gladys and Sofonisba were confident, based on the terrain and hunting territories, that we had gotten them all, but I had us circle around more to be sure. After a few hours with no attacks or sightings, we docked the ship near a grassy clearing. Unlike our first landing back on the centipede island, there were no sudden gusts of wind and the docking went smoothly.
In addition to furs and steaks and trophies like fangs and claws, the nine owlbears we killed yielded seven usable gallbladders, two of which were exceptional enough to make a Keoghtom's Ointment. This was a very good haul. Amateur adventurers usually think that the only way to get rich is to go into dungeons to try to find gold and ancient artifacts, but professionals hunt magical creatures for body parts and make their own magic items. If we returned now and sold the ointment and healing potions we would make from the gallbladders, then the sale proceeds plus the island-clearing and scouting bonus from Space Command would more than cover all voyage costs, including the depreciation of the ship, and give us a decent profit for very little risk. Not bad for a maiden voyage with a new crew where we spent most of the time learning how to fly the ship and work as a team.
Gladys started the work of brewing up the healing items. Mabellyne cooked the prime steaks from from the last couple of owlbears we had killed. This time, there was no drama or difficulty with the cooking. Gladys ran a couple quick tests to make sure that the meat was safe, and then Mabellyne just made a fire, inspected the steaks to make sure nothing had penetrated the muscle, cooked them medium-rare in a big cast-iron skillet, and forked the rare hunks of meat directly onto a serving platter.
While the meal was cooking, I inspected the ship and everyone else set up camp and a perimeter. Then we took the time for a well-deserved meal, all together, in the ship's wardroom.
The meat was tough and gamey, of course, because owlbears don't have any spare fat for marbling, and use all their muscles, but it was simple comfort food nonetheless.
The dinner conversation ended up taking a strange turn. For some reason, Mary didn't feel like talking about the owlbear fights, possibly because her part was just firing a crossbow out of portholes. Instead, we all started talking about other fights and adventures we had been in, but then, Mary had to ask us about why we were after Martin. In her mind, we were apparently too good for him, or something.
Talking about our personal desires was bad enough, but then somehow the conversation turned to cultural taboos. Always a rocky topic in mixed company. I must admit that I did not handle myself well. I had dropped my guard, probably because I was a bit tired after so much fighting and switching shifts. I decided to excuse myself, used up more of my magic power to heal Gladys completely, and then started a long rest on the ship while the rest of the crew explored the island on their broomsticks.
After about two days of near-constant sleeping and trance-like story-chanting, I awoke to the smell of roasting goat. Even though I had consumed over a dozen pounds of increasingly-stale owlbear steaks before and during my trance, my stomach grumbled at me to tell me that it would really like a different variety of red meat. My brain knew that Sofonisba's insect-and-legume cooking gave me all the nutrition that I needed, but my stomach insisted that something was missing.
After I dressed and came up to the deck, I saw that they had turned the grassy meadow into a base camp. There was, of course, a fire pit with a whole goat roasting on a spit. There were also two tents and a clothesline with undergarments of various kinds drying out. Provisions and chalk-marked slates with maps and notes were scattered about.
There were three more dead goats lying on the ground. Gladys and Mary were busy butchering them and cutting off strips of lean meat. It was obvious that they were going to make jerky. Mabellyne and the elves were nowhere to be seen.
Mary heard me as I stepped onto the gangplank and walked onto the island. "Oh! Good morning, Captain! How are you doing?"
"I am fully rested and recovered. What happened while I was out?"
"Everyone is just fine, we are doing great!"
I looked at Gladys.
"No hostiles or sapients contacted, no accidents. No major storms expected. Approximately 17% of archipelago scouted, no turnips found. Healing herbs obtained, healing potions and Ointments successfully brewed. Yielded three normal potions, two greater potions. Sof and I each have an ointment and a greater potion, the other three a normal potion. Laundry done for the week. I will need long rest soon, others are good. They are scouting, we are cooking. Spit goat's outer flesh medium rare."
I looked at the position of the sun and saw that it was about 7. "It is still third shift. Tsinta and Mabellyne should be asleep."
"They got early start. Been moving things around a bit to cover for you, but everyone well rested."
"Thank you. I relieve you of the watch and all duties, you may rest."
"After we get the jerky started."
I used my knife to cut the tendons of one of the goat's legs, and then ripped it off and started to devour it while patrolling the perimeter of camp.
"So, what is the story behind these goats? Did they blunder into the camp?"
Gladys answered, "Killing them whenever we see them. Calculate that we have a moral obligation to cull fifty to eighty percent of the archipelago's goat population."
I blinked. This was not what I wanted to deal with before I had finished my breakfast. "What?"
"Ecosystem in balance, then we killed all apex predators. Unless we reduce goat population, they will eat enough to strip islands clean, trigger full system collapse."
"I thought that a new population of wildspace predators would soon wander in to replace the owlbears."
"Given landmass density in this region of space, could take months for first predator to arrive, years after that for predator population to grow enough to stabilize. Must kill enough goats so population not exceed carrying capacity before that."
"So why did we not kill rabbits on the centipede islands?"
"There were foxes. Centipedes eating those too, things still basically in balance."
"But nothing else on these islands eats goats?"
"Right."
"So are we going to make jerky out of an entire archipelago worth of goats?"
"No, shoving most of them in direction of nearby islands or moons, trying to attract predators. Probably going to jerky a few dozen."
"So the elves and Mabellyne all agreed to this."
"Yes."
Mary spoke up. "We all agreed to it I was the one who questioned it the most but after I double-checked her math myself and saw that it was right I agreed."
I looked at the girl. "How do you know that kind of math?"
Mary looked up from the bloody goat that she was butchering, with an annoyed and incredulous pout on her face. "Of course I know basic math. I am a princess."
As if that explained everything. Teenagers always assume that the customs of their tribe or village or court are the laws of nature. I thought back to the bits of information I had gathered about human royal families like House Hanover. It was common for the women to be household managers, in charge of running the practical affairs of the estate. So maybe Mary had been taught the basics of things like compound interest and livestock management. From what I understood, that was similar to ecosystem math.
Mary misinterpreted my thoughtful silence. "Well actually I would not have been able to do the math all on my own I do not know as much as Gladys or Mab or Sof but when they talked me through it I was able to follow along and see that their proof was sound."
Gladys interrupted. "Not proof. Estimate. Proof is when you derive theorem, estimate is when you guess fact about world."
"Oh well in that case I like estimates a lot more than proofs. Proofs are boring and pointless but estimates are useful and fun."
Gladys's ears perked up with indignation. "Proofs essential skill! Need them as foundation of math training!"
I was going to have to side with Mary on this one. "I have been running my own merchant company for over a decade without ever hiring an accountant. I have figured out profitable trade routes based on commodity price differences. I have chosen a riverboat to buy based on cargo capacity and operating costs. I have handled exchange rates, depreciation, payroll and taxes in a dozen jurisdictions. My head for numbers helped me make a small fortune for myself starting from nothing but a greatclub and a dream. And I hate proofs and was never any good at them. Math education should start with accounting and not proofs."
"But knowing tax laws useless if you move. Basic skills from proof transfer to everything."
"How many people move? How many people can even do learning transfer? Most people are worthless unless you train them carefully in the specific skill you need. It seems to me that focusing on proofs is just a way of identifying and rewarding people who have the right math instincts, instead of actually helping all your students."
Gladys stopped talking. Her ears curled inward as she thought about what I said. She was argumentative and annoying, but to her credit, she actually did argue to try to find truth. Most people just did it to win a status game and make allies.
I glanced at Mary. As always when anything interesting or dramatic or potentially embarrassing was happening around her, she was intently starting at something else, in this case the goat tenderloin she was filleting, while she listened intently to every word.
I thought about my own actions. Was that why I was arguing? I went through a self-reflection ritual from Ioun's scripture.
What would an unbiased outside observer think of your actions?
They would probably think that I was just arguing to gain status.
What evidence could you present to show that they were wrong?
I would have to demonstrate that I was trying to seek truth.
How would you do that?
By showing that I thinking about how the other person could be right.
So what would the world look like if they were right, and what evidence do you have that our world is different?
Then people who hated and failed proofs would not be able to do any useful math. I have shown otherwise.
What if they were using a different definition of 'math skills'? What things might proof-lovers be able to do that proof-haters could not?
They might be able to, without being trained in that specific problem, calculate how many goats you would need to kill to stabilize an ecosystem.
I huffed audibly, to signal partial defeat and that I had a thing to say. "Gladys, you were right about one thing."
They both looked at me.
"People who have learned to love proofs do have the ability to use math in novel ways, like calculating how many goats we needed to cull. Despite all of my accounting skills, I could not do that."
Gladys's ears perked up, then drooped. "Must admit studied that exact problem in biology class. Ego says I could have figured it out on my own, but have no evidence of this."
I nodded silently. This was uncharted social territory for me. I needed to gracefully acknowledge my victory in this particular argument, while showing her and Mary that I was actually trying to learn and not just be a bully. How could I show that I understood her point?
"I think the proof is your sailing skills. You figured out the math of wind and tacking faster than any deckhand I ever trained. I know you never had a lesson on that, so it shows what you can do when a good math brain is trained with proofs."
She waved her hand dismissively. "That just raw intelligence plus basic physics training. Nothing to do with proofs, different skill completely."
Confound it, why could she not accept a compromise graciously? And was she actually starting to argue against the position she had just taken? What was I supposed to do with that?
I thing that, in her way, she somehow sensed that I was getting frustrated and that we needed to change the topic. "Learned other useful math in biology class. Thermal microbiology as applied to food processing. Now, as long as the jerky slices are less than 0.1 centimeters thick..."
As the goblin droned on about thermal gradients and kill steps and all of the convoluted math needed to describe a 'proper' cooking process, I successfully resisted the urge to interrupt her to say to just smoke the stuff until it was completely dry and looked like jerky. I went back to patrolling the perimeter of the camp, and inspecting the tents and the mooring lines, and occupying my math brain by thinking of how the accounting statements for our expedition would change after we added several hundred pounds of mesquite-smoked goat jerky to the 'profit' column.
All for one and one for all
5d: Gladys Owlbears
Mind focused. Adventurer firmly in control, with Logic and Metaphysician assisting.
Party sailing ship, approaching first quest zone. Nav charts indicate Level 3 enemies but of course that estimate could be off and there is a chance of a Level 4 encounter, maybe even 5 if the surveyor had a bad day and the ecosystem developed. Or if random wildspace predator coming through.
Gathered enough data to estimate everyone's level to within a 2-level band, and probabilistically calculate our average Party Level to determine odds of success and proper level of paranoia.
Ra fal can cast level 3 spells and makes melee attacks twice as fast, so is definitely at least Level 5. Don't know rules for Bard Form that well, don't know if anybody does beyond 5 because data gets scarce at high levels, but the rules for spellcasting progression are very well-conserved and she's never told stories of anything that I recognize as a Level 4 spell, so she is either level 5 or 6.
I just got a significant Strength boost before this trip, which almost certainly means I just hit Level 4.
Sof has martial path (she calls herself Arcane Archer but she clearly fits the Eldritch Knight Form) so is at least 3, but no Extra Attack so not yet 5. No noticeable feats, but haven't gathered enough data to tell if her dex is boosted beyond the baseline, so could be either 3 or 4.
Tsinta is hard to guess because warlocks are weird. But I think she is just casting Level 1 spells, so probably she is either Level 1 or 2. Probably 2 because she's been on enough adventures to level. Let's hope she took a combat-relevant Invocation.
Rogues are also hard, but fairly sure Mabellyne does not have her Archetype yet. No evidence of Fast Hands, no magic, does not feel like Assassin. So probably level 1 or 2, won't know until I see her in melee and look for the Cunning Actions.
So our average party level is, probably, 3 or a bit higher. Plus we have a civilian Noble shooting crossbow bolts at things, which is a bonus as long as she stays out of trouble. With good tactics we can probably hack through a dozen Level 3 encounters. By burning spell slots and my potions we could almost certainly survive a Level 5 fight, but afterwards we would need to get out of here and search for a place to camp and Long Rest.
Ra fal burns all her Bardic Inspiration on boosting our intel and lookout checks. Respect. If we have good sitrep, we have good plans and tactics and we won't need them in combat, and if we get surprised or ambushed, they won't help much.
Tsinta spots Owlbear. Dumb melee ripper. Obvious tactics. Use their instincts against them, lure and ambush at time and place of our choosing.
Set loadout to Bait/Tank Mode to maximize Armor: Shield and longsword rather than two-hand greatsword. Damage probably won't matter much anyway because taking Dodge action all the time unless it attacks someone else or lands and gets flanked.
Make Nature check to imitate wounded prey animal, succeed. Lure requires me to doff crash helmet and replace with civvie broomer cap, hope that Fate doesn't notice that or bother to use partial armor rules today.
First encounter: Enemy flies in, hit with ranged attacks, swoops in, crit fails! Take advantage of that to attempt a free Trip attack, which succeeds! Enemy falls prone. Sof shoots it, then Ra fal charges, flanks, drops it.
Keep guard up. Make sure it is dead. Nothing else around, zero cost for taking time to be paranoid.
Time to loot corpse. And teach Mary. Doctor takes over.
Nature check to loot useful body parts. Crit success! Can (probably) turn gallbladder into Keoghtom's Ointment.
Metaphysician: "Ra fal uses another Bardic Inspiration on me? Either I've miscalculated or Fate is breaking the rules for Narrative reasons."
Ego: "Figure that out later."
Succeed in extraction. Complete lesson. Dispose of corpse. Revert to Adventurer.
Head to new territory, repeat lure.
Second encounter: volley hits, it crit-fails initiative, killed at range before even closing in. Fetch corpse with broomstick. Bladder ruined. Take fur and prime steaks as loot.
Third encounter: It attacks, misses, gets killed. Take normal bladder, fur, and meat.
Fourth encounter: Owlbear has better initiative, hits with bite, lands, hits with claws. Could drop if hits with another attack. Quaff Rage potion (mainly to gain damage resistance) and ready an action to attack when it is flanked. Ra fal casts Healing Word, charges in for the flank and attacks, we kill it in melee. Loot normal bladder, fur, and meat.
Retreat to safe island to set up camp for Short Rest. Start potions and ointment with Mary and Sof. Doctor takes over, Socialite assisting.
Mary: "So will this really cure any disease?"
Speak. "Disease has very specific meaning for adventurers. Basically only infectious pathogens."
Mary: "So what can't it cure?"
Speak. "Genetic deformities. Nutrient deficiencies. Repetitive stress injuries. Lifestyle illnesses. Anything related to aging or senescence."
Mary: "I don't know what most of those words mean."
Continue lesson. Discuss how spells and items patch up things that affect adventurers but don't have much effect on normal civilian ailments.
Mary: "But when I got my ankle sprained, a cleric was able to cure that with a spell."
Speak. "That could have been a Lesser Restoration spell, or it could have been a Medicine check and a basic healing spell, or maybe just the healing spell. Depends on the whim of the Fates that day."
Mary: "It is odd that you are unsure."
Speak. "There is no consistency in how magic reacts to basic little things like sprained ankles. It is like the rules of the universe do not cover it, and Fate has to decide on the spot.
Mary: "That seems like a strange oversight. The way you talk, there seem to be fixed rules for all kinds of bizarre things, but a common thing like a sprained ankle is an unknown mystery?"
Speak. "Know that. It sucks."
Lesson over. Time for dinner. Check owlbear steaks for parasites or persistent bioaccumulative toxins. Nothing found. Mab cooks steaks for dinner. Delicious.
Bad rolls on my hit dice recovery, Ra fal needs to burn another spell slot to heal me.
Poet: Once more unto the breach!
Next (Ra fal)
Party sailing ship, approaching first quest zone. Nav charts indicate Level 3 enemies but of course that estimate could be off and there is a chance of a Level 4 encounter, maybe even 5 if the surveyor had a bad day and the ecosystem developed. Or if random wildspace predator coming through.
Gathered enough data to estimate everyone's level to within a 2-level band, and probabilistically calculate our average Party Level to determine odds of success and proper level of paranoia.
Ra fal can cast level 3 spells and makes melee attacks twice as fast, so is definitely at least Level 5. Don't know rules for Bard Form that well, don't know if anybody does beyond 5 because data gets scarce at high levels, but the rules for spellcasting progression are very well-conserved and she's never told stories of anything that I recognize as a Level 4 spell, so she is either level 5 or 6.
I just got a significant Strength boost before this trip, which almost certainly means I just hit Level 4.
Sof has martial path (she calls herself Arcane Archer but she clearly fits the Eldritch Knight Form) so is at least 3, but no Extra Attack so not yet 5. No noticeable feats, but haven't gathered enough data to tell if her dex is boosted beyond the baseline, so could be either 3 or 4.
Tsinta is hard to guess because warlocks are weird. But I think she is just casting Level 1 spells, so probably she is either Level 1 or 2. Probably 2 because she's been on enough adventures to level. Let's hope she took a combat-relevant Invocation.
Rogues are also hard, but fairly sure Mabellyne does not have her Archetype yet. No evidence of Fast Hands, no magic, does not feel like Assassin. So probably level 1 or 2, won't know until I see her in melee and look for the Cunning Actions.
So our average party level is, probably, 3 or a bit higher. Plus we have a civilian Noble shooting crossbow bolts at things, which is a bonus as long as she stays out of trouble. With good tactics we can probably hack through a dozen Level 3 encounters. By burning spell slots and my potions we could almost certainly survive a Level 5 fight, but afterwards we would need to get out of here and search for a place to camp and Long Rest.
Ra fal burns all her Bardic Inspiration on boosting our intel and lookout checks. Respect. If we have good sitrep, we have good plans and tactics and we won't need them in combat, and if we get surprised or ambushed, they won't help much.
Tsinta spots Owlbear. Dumb melee ripper. Obvious tactics. Use their instincts against them, lure and ambush at time and place of our choosing.
Set loadout to Bait/Tank Mode to maximize Armor: Shield and longsword rather than two-hand greatsword. Damage probably won't matter much anyway because taking Dodge action all the time unless it attacks someone else or lands and gets flanked.
Make Nature check to imitate wounded prey animal, succeed. Lure requires me to doff crash helmet and replace with civvie broomer cap, hope that Fate doesn't notice that or bother to use partial armor rules today.
First encounter: Enemy flies in, hit with ranged attacks, swoops in, crit fails! Take advantage of that to attempt a free Trip attack, which succeeds! Enemy falls prone. Sof shoots it, then Ra fal charges, flanks, drops it.
Keep guard up. Make sure it is dead. Nothing else around, zero cost for taking time to be paranoid.
Time to loot corpse. And teach Mary. Doctor takes over.
Nature check to loot useful body parts. Crit success! Can (probably) turn gallbladder into Keoghtom's Ointment.
Metaphysician: "Ra fal uses another Bardic Inspiration on me? Either I've miscalculated or Fate is breaking the rules for Narrative reasons."
Ego: "Figure that out later."
Succeed in extraction. Complete lesson. Dispose of corpse. Revert to Adventurer.
Head to new territory, repeat lure.
Second encounter: volley hits, it crit-fails initiative, killed at range before even closing in. Fetch corpse with broomstick. Bladder ruined. Take fur and prime steaks as loot.
Third encounter: It attacks, misses, gets killed. Take normal bladder, fur, and meat.
Fourth encounter: Owlbear has better initiative, hits with bite, lands, hits with claws. Could drop if hits with another attack. Quaff Rage potion (mainly to gain damage resistance) and ready an action to attack when it is flanked. Ra fal casts Healing Word, charges in for the flank and attacks, we kill it in melee. Loot normal bladder, fur, and meat.
Retreat to safe island to set up camp for Short Rest. Start potions and ointment with Mary and Sof. Doctor takes over, Socialite assisting.
Mary: "So will this really cure any disease?"
Speak. "Disease has very specific meaning for adventurers. Basically only infectious pathogens."
Mary: "So what can't it cure?"
Speak. "Genetic deformities. Nutrient deficiencies. Repetitive stress injuries. Lifestyle illnesses. Anything related to aging or senescence."
Mary: "I don't know what most of those words mean."
Continue lesson. Discuss how spells and items patch up things that affect adventurers but don't have much effect on normal civilian ailments.
Mary: "But when I got my ankle sprained, a cleric was able to cure that with a spell."
Speak. "That could have been a Lesser Restoration spell, or it could have been a Medicine check and a basic healing spell, or maybe just the healing spell. Depends on the whim of the Fates that day."
Mary: "It is odd that you are unsure."
Speak. "There is no consistency in how magic reacts to basic little things like sprained ankles. It is like the rules of the universe do not cover it, and Fate has to decide on the spot.
Mary: "That seems like a strange oversight. The way you talk, there seem to be fixed rules for all kinds of bizarre things, but a common thing like a sprained ankle is an unknown mystery?"
Speak. "Know that. It sucks."
Lesson over. Time for dinner. Check owlbear steaks for parasites or persistent bioaccumulative toxins. Nothing found. Mab cooks steaks for dinner. Delicious.
Bad rolls on my hit dice recovery, Ra fal needs to burn another spell slot to heal me.
Poet: Once more unto the breach!
Next (Ra fal)
5c: Mabellyne Owlbears
[Scene: A small ship's wardroom. There is a small table with five chairs. The walls are wooden, with portholes, and on them are a variety of fantastical tools, devices, and weapons, and several large bear furs. MARY, SOFONISBA, RA FAL, GLADYS, TSINTA, and MABELLYNE are scattered around the room, relaxing and talking.]
Ra fal: So then I said, "Well, if you are going to be like that, the contract never specified where you were taking delivery, so when we were back at the pit trap..."
[All six women laugh heartily.]
Sofonisba: And he just let you walk out?
Ra fal [grins]: What else could he do?
[More chuckling, then brief silence]
Mary: So, there is something I have been wondering. All of you are really badass women. If I didn't know that before, it was so obvious after seeing you kill all those giant horrible owlbears. Anyway, there you are, living a great life. You are interested in a guy, and propose to him. Fine, so far so good. But then he responds with this weird test, pitting you against other women. Why would you put up with that? Why didn't you all just throw the letter away and get on with your life?
[The other women think about this for a bit.]
Gladys: That sounds like the instinct for social games of status and dominance. Don't really think like that. When see a chance for awesomeness, just kind of go for it and hope for best.
Sofonisba: I think you do not fully appreciate the value of the prize to be won here. One does not simply throw away such an opportunity out of childish pique. And Martin is known for harebrained schemes like this. They are part of his charm. It was a breeze of fresh air to learn that he was interested in us in any way.
Tsinta: In its own strange way, this contest sign of respect. Seeking the deep truth.
Ra fal: This test is not so strange. Think of the stories of your own culture. Imagine that we were all men, knights-errant, seeking the hand of a princess. Would it be so unusual for the princess's father to send us on a quest to prove our worth?
Mabellyne: And if you were this princess, what would you think of a knight who arrogantly refused to go on the quest and be tested? Might you send suitors on a quest just to get rid of those who see themselves as too good to be tested?
Mary: But that is my point. Men are supposed to prove themselves to women, not the other way around. We should be courted, not ordered around like sellswords.
Sofonisba: Your culture tells you that the job of a woman is to look beautiful and be attractive, while the job of a man is to strive mightily for great accomplishments. But you will eventually find that 'looking beautiful and being attractive' is a much harder and less rewarding job than being an agent who strives for glory. At some level you realize this already, with your distaste for being dressed up in ball gowns.
Ra fal: As Tsinta was hinting at, being ordered around like this is a sign of respect for us as adventurers. It shows that Martin sees us as potentially valuable agents and assets, not just arm ornaments. You must have some idea of how refreshing that is.
Mary: But shouldn't marriage be about more than just recruiting an agent or an adventuring partner? It should be something special, sacred. He obviously does not see you as special, isn't that insulting?
Sofonisba: Your mind has been infected with the social norms of the agency-draining culture you seek so desperately to escape.
[MARY looks insulted and confused]
Mabellyne: Maybe I can help explain. Martin's behavior obviously offends you because it violates one of your social norms or sacred values. I am not sure exactly what the norm is, but I can form a hypothesis. You have a belief that a woman should be courted, and that marriage should be a special sacred thing that results from a man somehow magically choosing one woman to profess his undying love to. Is this correct?
Mary: Well, when you say it like that, it does sound kind of dumb. But it seems that it should be more than just a business arrangement or an adventuring partnership. I mean, what about, well, um...
Sofonisba: She does bring up a valid point. Am I the only one who actually wants to have sex with Martin?
[MARY blushes.]
Gladys [shrugs]: Human men are expected to pleasure their wives for free. If can give him the right scent and teach him how to satisfy a goblin woman, then suppose it would be nice to save the money.
Tsinta: Deep love, but no lust. Goddess-willed joined destiny, including children.
[MARY is horrified and confused and cannot find words.]
Ra fal [haughtily]: Of course we will have sex. I am going to show him the time of his life.
Sofonisba: That is not what I asked. I asked if you wanted it.
Ra fal [hesitantly, uncomfortably]: Of course.
Sofonisba: I doubt that. From what I have seen, you have spent your entire life using your sexuality as a weapon, and have never learned to appreciate or enjoy it.
Ra fal: I appreciate and enjoy all of my weapons.
Sofonisba: Yes, but only as tools to achieve what you really value. You do not treat tools and weapons as true values, nor should you. I know that this is what I want.
Ra fal: Do you really just want sex? Would you be happy being a kept woman on the side and not the official wife?
Sofonisba: I care nothing for those labels. I desire that Martin and I share a physical, spiritual, and emotional connection. If the label of 'wife' is necessary to claim that connection, then I will take it.
Mary: So this is just a fling to you? You'd claim Martin just for a bit of shallow fun?
Mabellyne: Potential unnecessary conflict due to unclear definitions, please specify terms.
Mary: I mean, what about true love?
Sofonisba: There are times in life for many types of relationships, none more true than any other. There is a time for flings and boy-toys and experimentation. There is a time for brief intense loves like spring flowers after a rain. And there is a time for the slow deep love of souls in the autumn of life. As much as I might wish it, Martin and I can never share that last type of love, for he will be dead while I am still young. But I assure you that this is more than a fling. I love him, with intensity even greater for the knowledge of its brevity. When he dies I will mourn him deeply and then move on. Maybe if my soul has matured in my time with him I will be ready to marry an elf and experience fading-autumn love.
[Awkward silence]
Gladys: Thought we were talking about sex.
Sofonisba: That is a key ingredient in intense-springtime love.
Gladys: Okay so basically this is the practice-child part of your life.
Sofonisba: There is much wisdom in your cultural traditions, and the analogy is reasonable.
Mary: Wait, so, about the three types of love, wouldn't it be better if you could have them all with the same person? Like, by holding the person constant, you would appreciate the differences more without any, what do the goblins say, confounding factors?
Sofonisba: There can be great beauty in that approach, but it is rarely available to women who move around for education and adventure and career.
Mary: So, um, I am guessing that you all have, well, ah, ... been with ... lots of men?
Mabellyne: Not really, just a few dozen. I have better things to do with my money.
Gladys: Same here.
[MARY covers her mouth and gasps.]
Sofonisba: I have experienced sexual companionship with over four hundred people of various body morphologies. You really must let go of...
Ra fal: Stop that.
Sofofnisba: What?
Ra fal: Do not patronize her and act all superior. We all have our cultural hang-ups. How would you react if I casually talked about being a nanny to a dozen children?
[SOFONISBA and TSINTA flinch, close their eyes, and cover their ears. MARY looks at them in confusion. They recover, and look at RA FAL with a cold and distant expression.]
Mary: Ok, so what just happened?
Ra fal: Elves believe that raising children is sacred, and must only happen within the family. Entrusting the care and development and teaching of children to anyone other than parents or close kin is considered dangerous and immoral.
Mary [thoughtfully]: Huh. That...actually...kind of makes sense. If the parents are good. But I would have been really miserable if I was stuck with my parents and did not have Belen and Soaring Eagle to...[looks at elves] Okay, so I do not want to hear you say anything bad about them. If I had been raised by only my parents, then I would have turned into a horrible person. If you like that I actually try to be good to everyone, you can thank my nanny and teacher.
Mabellyne: And if you like that I am not usually needy and neurotic, you can thank my man-whores.
Mary: Oh, um ... I think I see what you all mean. Um, Sorry.
Ra fal: No problem, it was not your fault.
Mary: I'll do my best not to be weird about it.
Gladys: Enjoy your neuroplasticity while you still have it.
[awkward silence]
Mary: So, um, what is the goblin hang-up?
Ra fal [to the goblins]: Do you want to tell her, or should I?
Gladys: Medical care. Ditched that taboo long ago. No other choice when adventuring.
[MABELLYNE blushes]
Mary [quietly]: Oh, So if Mabellyne ever gets hurt...
Gladys: Best just let her grab a healing potion and have some time alone in her bunk.
[MABELLYNE sinks down in her chair]
Mary [quickly]: So! What is the orc taboo?
Ra fal [proudly]: We believe that self-defense and law enforcement must happen within the kin group. Those who require outsiders to defend themselves and their values are pathetic, and those who would do such things for outsiders and weaklings are despicable villains who threaten both the foundation of civilization and the genetic fitness of the race.
[MARY, MABELLYNE, SOFONISBA and TSINTA all look at each other and say nothing.]
Gladys: But you are an adventurer, so you must have ditched that, right?
Ra fal [Slams her fist against the table]: I am not a sellsword! I have never taken any contract to [sneers] defend or protect anyone. I move goods to people who can pay for them. I fight when my life or livelihood is threatened, or when my kin are attacked.
Gladys [oblivious, guileless]: Did you have kin in Torreon?
[RA FAL raises both fists, then takes a deep breath and calms herself.]
Ra fal [Icily, Proudly]: That coven of hags threatened my trade route and my profits. I know you are just being ignorant, but I will not sit here while my honor is being attacked.
[RA FAL gets up and storms out of the room.]
Mary [quietly]: Is she really embarrassed about being a hero? How can it be a bad thing to rescue a village of enslaved gnomes?
Sofonisba: For the same reason that humans consider it a bad thing to offer sexual comfort to a crowd of poor and lonely men. Orcs see a 'defender of the weak' the same way you see a 'cheap whore'.
Mary: But..that...no...how?
Mabellyne: I should go try to calm her down.
Sofonisba: Thank you. May Ioun guide your words.
[Exit MABELLYNE]
Next (Gladys)
Ra fal: So then I said, "Well, if you are going to be like that, the contract never specified where you were taking delivery, so when we were back at the pit trap..."
[All six women laugh heartily.]
Sofonisba: And he just let you walk out?
Ra fal [grins]: What else could he do?
[More chuckling, then brief silence]
Mary: So, there is something I have been wondering. All of you are really badass women. If I didn't know that before, it was so obvious after seeing you kill all those giant horrible owlbears. Anyway, there you are, living a great life. You are interested in a guy, and propose to him. Fine, so far so good. But then he responds with this weird test, pitting you against other women. Why would you put up with that? Why didn't you all just throw the letter away and get on with your life?
[The other women think about this for a bit.]
Gladys: That sounds like the instinct for social games of status and dominance. Don't really think like that. When see a chance for awesomeness, just kind of go for it and hope for best.
Sofonisba: I think you do not fully appreciate the value of the prize to be won here. One does not simply throw away such an opportunity out of childish pique. And Martin is known for harebrained schemes like this. They are part of his charm. It was a breeze of fresh air to learn that he was interested in us in any way.
Tsinta: In its own strange way, this contest sign of respect. Seeking the deep truth.
Ra fal: This test is not so strange. Think of the stories of your own culture. Imagine that we were all men, knights-errant, seeking the hand of a princess. Would it be so unusual for the princess's father to send us on a quest to prove our worth?
Mabellyne: And if you were this princess, what would you think of a knight who arrogantly refused to go on the quest and be tested? Might you send suitors on a quest just to get rid of those who see themselves as too good to be tested?
Mary: But that is my point. Men are supposed to prove themselves to women, not the other way around. We should be courted, not ordered around like sellswords.
Sofonisba: Your culture tells you that the job of a woman is to look beautiful and be attractive, while the job of a man is to strive mightily for great accomplishments. But you will eventually find that 'looking beautiful and being attractive' is a much harder and less rewarding job than being an agent who strives for glory. At some level you realize this already, with your distaste for being dressed up in ball gowns.
Ra fal: As Tsinta was hinting at, being ordered around like this is a sign of respect for us as adventurers. It shows that Martin sees us as potentially valuable agents and assets, not just arm ornaments. You must have some idea of how refreshing that is.
Mary: But shouldn't marriage be about more than just recruiting an agent or an adventuring partner? It should be something special, sacred. He obviously does not see you as special, isn't that insulting?
Sofonisba: Your mind has been infected with the social norms of the agency-draining culture you seek so desperately to escape.
[MARY looks insulted and confused]
Mabellyne: Maybe I can help explain. Martin's behavior obviously offends you because it violates one of your social norms or sacred values. I am not sure exactly what the norm is, but I can form a hypothesis. You have a belief that a woman should be courted, and that marriage should be a special sacred thing that results from a man somehow magically choosing one woman to profess his undying love to. Is this correct?
Mary: Well, when you say it like that, it does sound kind of dumb. But it seems that it should be more than just a business arrangement or an adventuring partnership. I mean, what about, well, um...
Sofonisba: She does bring up a valid point. Am I the only one who actually wants to have sex with Martin?
[MARY blushes.]
Gladys [shrugs]: Human men are expected to pleasure their wives for free. If can give him the right scent and teach him how to satisfy a goblin woman, then suppose it would be nice to save the money.
Tsinta: Deep love, but no lust. Goddess-willed joined destiny, including children.
[MARY is horrified and confused and cannot find words.]
Ra fal [haughtily]: Of course we will have sex. I am going to show him the time of his life.
Sofonisba: That is not what I asked. I asked if you wanted it.
Ra fal [hesitantly, uncomfortably]: Of course.
Sofonisba: I doubt that. From what I have seen, you have spent your entire life using your sexuality as a weapon, and have never learned to appreciate or enjoy it.
Ra fal: I appreciate and enjoy all of my weapons.
Sofonisba: Yes, but only as tools to achieve what you really value. You do not treat tools and weapons as true values, nor should you. I know that this is what I want.
Ra fal: Do you really just want sex? Would you be happy being a kept woman on the side and not the official wife?
Sofonisba: I care nothing for those labels. I desire that Martin and I share a physical, spiritual, and emotional connection. If the label of 'wife' is necessary to claim that connection, then I will take it.
Mary: So this is just a fling to you? You'd claim Martin just for a bit of shallow fun?
Mabellyne: Potential unnecessary conflict due to unclear definitions, please specify terms.
Mary: I mean, what about true love?
Sofonisba: There are times in life for many types of relationships, none more true than any other. There is a time for flings and boy-toys and experimentation. There is a time for brief intense loves like spring flowers after a rain. And there is a time for the slow deep love of souls in the autumn of life. As much as I might wish it, Martin and I can never share that last type of love, for he will be dead while I am still young. But I assure you that this is more than a fling. I love him, with intensity even greater for the knowledge of its brevity. When he dies I will mourn him deeply and then move on. Maybe if my soul has matured in my time with him I will be ready to marry an elf and experience fading-autumn love.
[Awkward silence]
Gladys: Thought we were talking about sex.
Sofonisba: That is a key ingredient in intense-springtime love.
Gladys: Okay so basically this is the practice-child part of your life.
Sofonisba: There is much wisdom in your cultural traditions, and the analogy is reasonable.
Mary: Wait, so, about the three types of love, wouldn't it be better if you could have them all with the same person? Like, by holding the person constant, you would appreciate the differences more without any, what do the goblins say, confounding factors?
Sofonisba: There can be great beauty in that approach, but it is rarely available to women who move around for education and adventure and career.
Mary: So, um, I am guessing that you all have, well, ah, ... been with ... lots of men?
Mabellyne: Not really, just a few dozen. I have better things to do with my money.
Gladys: Same here.
[MARY covers her mouth and gasps.]
Sofonisba: I have experienced sexual companionship with over four hundred people of various body morphologies. You really must let go of...
Ra fal: Stop that.
Sofofnisba: What?
Ra fal: Do not patronize her and act all superior. We all have our cultural hang-ups. How would you react if I casually talked about being a nanny to a dozen children?
[SOFONISBA and TSINTA flinch, close their eyes, and cover their ears. MARY looks at them in confusion. They recover, and look at RA FAL with a cold and distant expression.]
Mary: Ok, so what just happened?
Ra fal: Elves believe that raising children is sacred, and must only happen within the family. Entrusting the care and development and teaching of children to anyone other than parents or close kin is considered dangerous and immoral.
Mary [thoughtfully]: Huh. That...actually...kind of makes sense. If the parents are good. But I would have been really miserable if I was stuck with my parents and did not have Belen and Soaring Eagle to...[looks at elves] Okay, so I do not want to hear you say anything bad about them. If I had been raised by only my parents, then I would have turned into a horrible person. If you like that I actually try to be good to everyone, you can thank my nanny and teacher.
Mabellyne: And if you like that I am not usually needy and neurotic, you can thank my man-whores.
Mary: Oh, um ... I think I see what you all mean. Um, Sorry.
Ra fal: No problem, it was not your fault.
Mary: I'll do my best not to be weird about it.
Gladys: Enjoy your neuroplasticity while you still have it.
[awkward silence]
Mary: So, um, what is the goblin hang-up?
Ra fal [to the goblins]: Do you want to tell her, or should I?
Gladys: Medical care. Ditched that taboo long ago. No other choice when adventuring.
[MABELLYNE blushes]
Mary [quietly]: Oh, So if Mabellyne ever gets hurt...
Gladys: Best just let her grab a healing potion and have some time alone in her bunk.
[MABELLYNE sinks down in her chair]
Mary [quickly]: So! What is the orc taboo?
Ra fal [proudly]: We believe that self-defense and law enforcement must happen within the kin group. Those who require outsiders to defend themselves and their values are pathetic, and those who would do such things for outsiders and weaklings are despicable villains who threaten both the foundation of civilization and the genetic fitness of the race.
[MARY, MABELLYNE, SOFONISBA and TSINTA all look at each other and say nothing.]
Gladys: But you are an adventurer, so you must have ditched that, right?
Ra fal [Slams her fist against the table]: I am not a sellsword! I have never taken any contract to [sneers] defend or protect anyone. I move goods to people who can pay for them. I fight when my life or livelihood is threatened, or when my kin are attacked.
Gladys [oblivious, guileless]: Did you have kin in Torreon?
[RA FAL raises both fists, then takes a deep breath and calms herself.]
Ra fal [Icily, Proudly]: That coven of hags threatened my trade route and my profits. I know you are just being ignorant, but I will not sit here while my honor is being attacked.
[RA FAL gets up and storms out of the room.]
Mary [quietly]: Is she really embarrassed about being a hero? How can it be a bad thing to rescue a village of enslaved gnomes?
Sofonisba: For the same reason that humans consider it a bad thing to offer sexual comfort to a crowd of poor and lonely men. Orcs see a 'defender of the weak' the same way you see a 'cheap whore'.
Mary: But..that...no...how?
Mabellyne: I should go try to calm her down.
Sofonisba: Thank you. May Ioun guide your words.
[Exit MABELLYNE]
Next (Gladys)
5b: Tsinta Owlbears
Dark water-blue sky
Shattered carcasses
Left in our wake like footprints
Blood misting in space
Island chain like air bubbles
A green oasis
we are still a very young bird young dragon young goddess we have barely learned to fly barely learned to hunt we must still learn together and grow but we have a plan we have a quest we have a holy mission
Painted wood bright sails
Ship cuts through lonely dark space
Our precious home-egg
parts of us are still ugly reeking unnatural unkempt filth they must be subsumed replaced altered to fit in with the natural order and scheme of things but replaced slowly so it feels like growth not death
Soft silent wingspans
Drifting hungrily through space
We face owlbears
we are the apex predator the spider in the web slow patient cunning planning we set a trap to snare the foolish the unwary the nonsapient we have the brains the cunning to weave webs with our minds our gods our tools throughout the vast eternities of space and time
A green oasis
we are still a very young bird young dragon young goddess we have barely learned to fly barely learned to hunt we must still learn together and grow but we have a plan we have a quest we have a holy mission
Painted wood bright sails
Ship cuts through lonely dark space
Our precious home-egg
parts of us are still ugly reeking unnatural unkempt filth they must be subsumed replaced altered to fit in with the natural order and scheme of things but replaced slowly so it feels like growth not death
Soft silent wingspans
Drifting hungrily through space
We face owlbears
we are the apex predator the spider in the web slow patient cunning planning we set a trap to snare the foolish the unwary the nonsapient we have the brains the cunning to weave webs with our minds our gods our tools throughout the vast eternities of space and time
Predator becomes prey
Red blood splashed on pine planking
A bold life shattered
too much twisted thought too much scheming too much planning not enough being not enough living in the moment living in this natural moment as one must or one is doomed to an eternity of suffering
Flayed flesh scattered bones
Knowledge goddess sacrifice
Callous blood-eagle
one after the other after the other we kill we consume we move on to the next we devour the apex predator we are the top of the food chain we own it we control it is that right we don't know we don't care it happens it is for we are patient cunning combined with raw fury it is unescapable unstoppable all the best of us combine to slowly one after the other pick this fearsome thing eat them as though they were berries on a vine
Shattered carcasses
Left in our wake like footprints
Blood misting in space
we are the only monsters here everything else is just an animal but we we are the things that the gods fear we are the things with cunning of forethought who could twist the universe to our will nothing else has any chance we are the true predators nothing else comes close
Dark water-blue sky
5a: Mary Owlbears
The area of wildspace above the Gray Ridge League of Armed Neutrality is called Freespace. Unlike Fedspace to the east, Firespace to the west, and Flayerspace to the north, it is not controlled or settled by a major military power. It was once part of Flayerspace, until several decades ago when the Imperial Elven Navy sent several carrier battle groups to drive the mind flayers out in a campaign of epic and titanic battles. The elves began to colonize some of eastern moons of the area, in their slow methodical way, and they patrolled for signs of mind flayer or fire giant military activity, but they made little effort to explore or settle most of it.
The Federation gladly gave the races of the League permission to operate and settle in Freespace, aside from a few significant places marked as off-limits. The elves welcomed and encouraged the development of a non-hostile spacefaring civilization, as a buffer between the other powers and a way to keep the area from becoming a haven for halfling space pirates.
This meant that, while the various moons and archipelagos had been charted and classified based on long-range vegetation scans, there were rarely any details beyond that. Space was vast, and travelers were few in the early years of League civilization. The only thing that the crew of Fortuna's Kiss knew about the Garcia-17 archipelago was that its vegetation indicated a Level 3 ecosystem, and that there was a decent chance it had the hypoallergenic wildspace turnips that they were on a mission to collect.
And so, they were on high alert as they approached. Ra fal barked out orders, not because anyone needed to be told their jobs again, but because her voice carried a subtle but powerful enchantment that would keep everyone focused, confident, and better at their tasks.
"Sofonisba and Tsinta, scan the islands for animals or creatures. We need to know what the apex predators are. Gladys, look at the vegetation and see if you can deduce the food web from that. Mary, look behind and around us to make sure nothing is flanking or following us. Mabellyne, look for anything that resembles ship movement or architecture in any direction. I will also look out for signs of civilization."
Gladys swapped out a lens on her goggles. "Scrubland, nothing larger than bushes and shrubbery. Probably supports herds of goats. Could be anything eating them."
Everyone was silent, searching and surveying with emotions ranging from confused nervousness to grim caution. After a couple minutes, Tsinta spoke quietly.
"soft silent wingspans, drifting hungrily through space: we face owlbears."
Ra fal grunted. "Good catch. Nasty, but it could be worse; they have no ranged attacks and we know what to expect now."
Mary spoke up. "I have heard of those. They were made by a mad wizard who crossed an owl and a bear to create an unnatural monstrosity."
Gladys scowled grimly. "Maybe on land. Wildspace owlbears different story. Well-evolved apex predator, perfectly suited to environment. They fly, very silently. Watch you, wait, glide down to strike you and grab you off ship. Like owl strikes mouse. You lose crew, never know what happened.
Ra fal replied. "That will not happen to us."
Sofonisba nodded. "They are territorial, so we should not have to face more than one at a time. We can lay a trap for it, knowing its behavior."
Gladys sighed. "Yes, know job. Stand alone on deck, looking weak, with chain on ankle tethering to ship. You all hide, light it up with spells and fill it with arrows as it glides in to strike."
Gladys had already donned her armor, a haphazard collection of goblin crash safety gear and castoff dwarven munition armor segments that somehow managed to work almost as well as a suit of full plate. Her helmet looked nothing like any knight's helmet that Mary had seen: it was like a large rounded bubble over her head, made of a strange alchemical substance rather than steel, and painted bright white with a flame motif. It made her look like a demon or some other unearthly thing, and no predator would think her an easy meal while we wore it.
Gladys unstrapped her helmet and replaced it with a leather skullcap, and then threw a burlap cloak over the rest of her armor, strapped a shield to her forearm, and started slouching and hobbling around. This would never fool a person, but Mary could see that it mimicked a wounded weakling in a way that would attract most predators.
Ra fal nodded. "Aye. Mary, Mabellyne, get below decks and shoot through portholes. One hit from an owlbear's claws could kill you, so you are staying safe. The rest of us will hide in the cargo netting. Hold your fire until it is 60 feet out, we do not want to scare it away too soon."
Tsinta added, "Watch all directions. Two thumps on deck is signal - we have spotted foe."
As Mary and Mabellyne quietly followed these orders, they head Ra fal say, "Spread out and set up a crossfire. Cantrips only unless there is an emergency, we will be killing a lot of these so we need to save our spell slots."
The topside crew made a couple minor adjustments to the wings, so that the ship was drifting slowly toward the islands. Mary heard armored boots moving around the deck, and then silence. They waited.
Mary knew that she would go crazy if she stood still, so she practiced loading the crossbow: Point at ground, attach bowstring to the hook on her belt, foot through stirrup, stomp down until bowstring clicks into place, remove foot, release belt hook, raise, load the bolt, look out the porthole, and aim. After looking around for a few seconds, she would remove the bolt, pull the trigger to 'fire' at something imaginary, and start again. It was weird and strange and she did not like it. It had taken a couple of days of drills under Mabellyne's patient supervision until she was able to load the bow in a couple seconds. At least, she could when nothing scary was happening.
This continued for several minutes. Then, they heard two thumps on the port side, followed by a third thump in a different place to indicate the direction the owlbear was coming from. Mary finished loading the bow, rushed over to a porthole, and looked up in the indicated direction.
She and Mabellyne both saw it, even though the owlbear's gray feathers blended well against the sky. It was silently swooping in, not flapping, its downy owl feathers making no sound at all even though it was the size of a grizzly bear and it was moving through the air faster than a broomstick could fly.
Mary was tense, and fidgety. She tracked the owlbear with the crossbow, leading it as Mabellyne had taught her, keeping her finger alongside the stock instead of inside the trigger guard, so she would not accidentally pull it. She did not trust her ability to judge distances. When should she fire?
Mabellyne whispered, "Just wait for the elves to cast their spells, and fire when you see the magic flash."
Soon after, Mary saw two streaks of light racing toward the owlbear: an arrow glowing with the blue-white light of winter sun shining through icicles, and a beam of greenish light that reminded her of the summer sun shining through the forest. Mary and Mabellyne both fired, as they heard Ra Fal yell "Goatsucking freak!"
The green beam and Mabellyne's bolt missed, but the ice arrow hit, bursting with a crackle and coating the owlbear with a frost that coated its wings. Mary's bolt hit as well. The beast responded with a monstrous sound, a cross between an owl's shriek and a bear's roar.
Mabellyne had finished reloading her crossbow while the first shot was still sailing through the air, and launched another shot, which hit. But before Mary or anybody else could fire again, the owlbear finished its swoop, passing over the deck and out of their sight.
They heard the scraping of talons on metal, and then the ship shook as the beast slammed into the deck. There was a twang of a bowstring, a thunk of an arrow hitting flesh, and then the booming of Ra fal rushing across the deck in her massive boots, and then two sickening crunches, then a few seconds of silence, and then regular rhythmic squishy thumping.
They heard Sofonisba's slightly exasperated voice saying, "Ra fal already killed it."
Gladys replied grumpily, "Whetstones cheap. Healing expensive. Making sure it is dead."
After a bit more of this, Ra fal called out to the people belowdecks. "You can come up now. Bring a mop and bucket of water."
"And sample collection kit," Gladys added.
Mary saw that Mabellyne was starting to look sick, so she waved the goblin over to her bunk, collected the requested items, and climbed up to the deck.
Ra fal was cleaning blood and brains off of the paddle of her favorite oar, the one that had been with her so long that it had become a magical weapon. Gladys was cleaning her sword, and the elves were scanning the sky for any more threats.
Gladys looked at Mary. "You wanted to learn medicine?"
"Oh, are you hurt?"
"No, not a scratch. Operating on owlbear."
Mary looked down at the mangled remains of the owlbear. Its head had been smashed open, and then severed from its body. "Um, okay?"
"Their gallbladders make good healing potions. Going to cut the beast open, hope bladder did not get ruined by arrow, and collect it. While inside, demonstrate basic anatomy."
Thus began a messy but informative lesson. As Gladys peeled away layers of skin and flesh with her knives and surgical tools, she pointed out the anatomy of the creature, and showed where the crossbow bolts and magic spells had hit and what damage they caused as a result.
When Gladys got to the stomach and guts, she started peeling things away very carefully, noting their names and function to Mary as she did so. After she lifted away the liver, she stuck her face inside the body cavity and inhaled deeply.
"Woah, awesome! This thing is super potent! Smell that beautiful taurocholic acid!"
Ra fal asked, "What does that mean for us?"
"It means that I can make a Keoghtom's Ointment instead of just a healing potion."
Mary's face brightened in excitement. "Oh! Is that the healing thing we wanted to get but could not afford?"
"Yes. Very good tactical reserve. Ra fal now not only only source of magical healing, and can be healed if down. Significant reduction in risk of disaster. Hopefully never need it, sell for profit."
Ra fal nodded in agreement, but grumbled a cautious warning. "Only if you get it extracted and prepared right. Don't count your treasure before it's looted." Her voice changed slightly, in a way that Mary was starting to recognize as having the subtle addition of magical power. "But I have complete confidence that you will succeed in this task. All of your biology training and your field experience will combine to guide you to do your best work."
Gladys nodded, and turned to Mary. "Now, back to lesson. Give scalpel. Watch closely. Will focus on surgery. No talking."
Mary did so, and watched breathlessly. Her presence, tense and quivering with suppressed excitement, was far more distracting than if she had been breathing normally, but Gladys did not mind. The goblin was a hardened veteran, and had, several times in her career, performed battlefield surgery on wounded comrades, or chopped valuable fast-degrading bits out of dead monsters, while a battle was actually raging around her. Long before Mary ran out of breath, Gladys had flawlessly extracted the gallbladder, tied up the tubes to prevent any loss of the vital magical fluid, placed it in a sample jar with alchemical preservatives, and sealed the jar.
After that, everyone relaxed. Gladys resumed the dissection and anatomy lesson. She was very knowledgeable, and clearly cared about the subject matter, but delivered the knowledge with a fast monologue and never stopped to check if her audience was actually understanding anything. It didn't matter. Mary absorbed everything with rapt attention.
Soon, the owlbear had been reduced to a completely disconnected pile of bones and tissue scattered across all available deck space, and in some cases hung over railings. This was more Mary's doing than Gladys's. Gladys would have simply chucked things over the railing, to drift away endlessly in zero gravity, after talking about them. But Mary insisted on placing them in a kind of exploded diagram, to try to see see how they would have all connected to each other in a living being. Everyone else tolerated this with a kind of stunned fascination, and an unwillingness to take a fun toy away from an excited child.
However, after it was all done, and Mary was confident that she knew how everything worked and fit together, and they had tossed everything overboard, Ra fal glared at Mary sternly and pointed at the mop and bucket.
It took her hours to clean everything off the deck and railings, until there was no longer any sight or scent that might scare off the next owlbear they planned to lure, but she did not seem to care. As she worked tirelessly, replaying the lesson in her mind, the rest of the crew sailed to the next island to repeat the process, with the goal of exterminating all of the owlbears in the archipelago.
Next (Tsinta)
The Federation gladly gave the races of the League permission to operate and settle in Freespace, aside from a few significant places marked as off-limits. The elves welcomed and encouraged the development of a non-hostile spacefaring civilization, as a buffer between the other powers and a way to keep the area from becoming a haven for halfling space pirates.
This meant that, while the various moons and archipelagos had been charted and classified based on long-range vegetation scans, there were rarely any details beyond that. Space was vast, and travelers were few in the early years of League civilization. The only thing that the crew of Fortuna's Kiss knew about the Garcia-17 archipelago was that its vegetation indicated a Level 3 ecosystem, and that there was a decent chance it had the hypoallergenic wildspace turnips that they were on a mission to collect.
And so, they were on high alert as they approached. Ra fal barked out orders, not because anyone needed to be told their jobs again, but because her voice carried a subtle but powerful enchantment that would keep everyone focused, confident, and better at their tasks.
"Sofonisba and Tsinta, scan the islands for animals or creatures. We need to know what the apex predators are. Gladys, look at the vegetation and see if you can deduce the food web from that. Mary, look behind and around us to make sure nothing is flanking or following us. Mabellyne, look for anything that resembles ship movement or architecture in any direction. I will also look out for signs of civilization."
Gladys swapped out a lens on her goggles. "Scrubland, nothing larger than bushes and shrubbery. Probably supports herds of goats. Could be anything eating them."
Everyone was silent, searching and surveying with emotions ranging from confused nervousness to grim caution. After a couple minutes, Tsinta spoke quietly.
"soft silent wingspans, drifting hungrily through space: we face owlbears."
Ra fal grunted. "Good catch. Nasty, but it could be worse; they have no ranged attacks and we know what to expect now."
Mary spoke up. "I have heard of those. They were made by a mad wizard who crossed an owl and a bear to create an unnatural monstrosity."
Gladys scowled grimly. "Maybe on land. Wildspace owlbears different story. Well-evolved apex predator, perfectly suited to environment. They fly, very silently. Watch you, wait, glide down to strike you and grab you off ship. Like owl strikes mouse. You lose crew, never know what happened.
Ra fal replied. "That will not happen to us."
Sofonisba nodded. "They are territorial, so we should not have to face more than one at a time. We can lay a trap for it, knowing its behavior."
Gladys sighed. "Yes, know job. Stand alone on deck, looking weak, with chain on ankle tethering to ship. You all hide, light it up with spells and fill it with arrows as it glides in to strike."
Gladys had already donned her armor, a haphazard collection of goblin crash safety gear and castoff dwarven munition armor segments that somehow managed to work almost as well as a suit of full plate. Her helmet looked nothing like any knight's helmet that Mary had seen: it was like a large rounded bubble over her head, made of a strange alchemical substance rather than steel, and painted bright white with a flame motif. It made her look like a demon or some other unearthly thing, and no predator would think her an easy meal while we wore it.
Gladys unstrapped her helmet and replaced it with a leather skullcap, and then threw a burlap cloak over the rest of her armor, strapped a shield to her forearm, and started slouching and hobbling around. This would never fool a person, but Mary could see that it mimicked a wounded weakling in a way that would attract most predators.
Ra fal nodded. "Aye. Mary, Mabellyne, get below decks and shoot through portholes. One hit from an owlbear's claws could kill you, so you are staying safe. The rest of us will hide in the cargo netting. Hold your fire until it is 60 feet out, we do not want to scare it away too soon."
Tsinta added, "Watch all directions. Two thumps on deck is signal - we have spotted foe."
As Mary and Mabellyne quietly followed these orders, they head Ra fal say, "Spread out and set up a crossfire. Cantrips only unless there is an emergency, we will be killing a lot of these so we need to save our spell slots."
The topside crew made a couple minor adjustments to the wings, so that the ship was drifting slowly toward the islands. Mary heard armored boots moving around the deck, and then silence. They waited.
Mary knew that she would go crazy if she stood still, so she practiced loading the crossbow: Point at ground, attach bowstring to the hook on her belt, foot through stirrup, stomp down until bowstring clicks into place, remove foot, release belt hook, raise, load the bolt, look out the porthole, and aim. After looking around for a few seconds, she would remove the bolt, pull the trigger to 'fire' at something imaginary, and start again. It was weird and strange and she did not like it. It had taken a couple of days of drills under Mabellyne's patient supervision until she was able to load the bow in a couple seconds. At least, she could when nothing scary was happening.
This continued for several minutes. Then, they heard two thumps on the port side, followed by a third thump in a different place to indicate the direction the owlbear was coming from. Mary finished loading the bow, rushed over to a porthole, and looked up in the indicated direction.
She and Mabellyne both saw it, even though the owlbear's gray feathers blended well against the sky. It was silently swooping in, not flapping, its downy owl feathers making no sound at all even though it was the size of a grizzly bear and it was moving through the air faster than a broomstick could fly.
Mary was tense, and fidgety. She tracked the owlbear with the crossbow, leading it as Mabellyne had taught her, keeping her finger alongside the stock instead of inside the trigger guard, so she would not accidentally pull it. She did not trust her ability to judge distances. When should she fire?
Mabellyne whispered, "Just wait for the elves to cast their spells, and fire when you see the magic flash."
Soon after, Mary saw two streaks of light racing toward the owlbear: an arrow glowing with the blue-white light of winter sun shining through icicles, and a beam of greenish light that reminded her of the summer sun shining through the forest. Mary and Mabellyne both fired, as they heard Ra Fal yell "Goatsucking freak!"
The green beam and Mabellyne's bolt missed, but the ice arrow hit, bursting with a crackle and coating the owlbear with a frost that coated its wings. Mary's bolt hit as well. The beast responded with a monstrous sound, a cross between an owl's shriek and a bear's roar.
Mabellyne had finished reloading her crossbow while the first shot was still sailing through the air, and launched another shot, which hit. But before Mary or anybody else could fire again, the owlbear finished its swoop, passing over the deck and out of their sight.
They heard the scraping of talons on metal, and then the ship shook as the beast slammed into the deck. There was a twang of a bowstring, a thunk of an arrow hitting flesh, and then the booming of Ra fal rushing across the deck in her massive boots, and then two sickening crunches, then a few seconds of silence, and then regular rhythmic squishy thumping.
They heard Sofonisba's slightly exasperated voice saying, "Ra fal already killed it."
Gladys replied grumpily, "Whetstones cheap. Healing expensive. Making sure it is dead."
After a bit more of this, Ra fal called out to the people belowdecks. "You can come up now. Bring a mop and bucket of water."
"And sample collection kit," Gladys added.
Mary saw that Mabellyne was starting to look sick, so she waved the goblin over to her bunk, collected the requested items, and climbed up to the deck.
Ra fal was cleaning blood and brains off of the paddle of her favorite oar, the one that had been with her so long that it had become a magical weapon. Gladys was cleaning her sword, and the elves were scanning the sky for any more threats.
Gladys looked at Mary. "You wanted to learn medicine?"
"Oh, are you hurt?"
"No, not a scratch. Operating on owlbear."
Mary looked down at the mangled remains of the owlbear. Its head had been smashed open, and then severed from its body. "Um, okay?"
"Their gallbladders make good healing potions. Going to cut the beast open, hope bladder did not get ruined by arrow, and collect it. While inside, demonstrate basic anatomy."
Thus began a messy but informative lesson. As Gladys peeled away layers of skin and flesh with her knives and surgical tools, she pointed out the anatomy of the creature, and showed where the crossbow bolts and magic spells had hit and what damage they caused as a result.
When Gladys got to the stomach and guts, she started peeling things away very carefully, noting their names and function to Mary as she did so. After she lifted away the liver, she stuck her face inside the body cavity and inhaled deeply.
"Woah, awesome! This thing is super potent! Smell that beautiful taurocholic acid!"
Ra fal asked, "What does that mean for us?"
"It means that I can make a Keoghtom's Ointment instead of just a healing potion."
Mary's face brightened in excitement. "Oh! Is that the healing thing we wanted to get but could not afford?"
"Yes. Very good tactical reserve. Ra fal now not only only source of magical healing, and can be healed if down. Significant reduction in risk of disaster. Hopefully never need it, sell for profit."
Ra fal nodded in agreement, but grumbled a cautious warning. "Only if you get it extracted and prepared right. Don't count your treasure before it's looted." Her voice changed slightly, in a way that Mary was starting to recognize as having the subtle addition of magical power. "But I have complete confidence that you will succeed in this task. All of your biology training and your field experience will combine to guide you to do your best work."
Gladys nodded, and turned to Mary. "Now, back to lesson. Give scalpel. Watch closely. Will focus on surgery. No talking."
Mary did so, and watched breathlessly. Her presence, tense and quivering with suppressed excitement, was far more distracting than if she had been breathing normally, but Gladys did not mind. The goblin was a hardened veteran, and had, several times in her career, performed battlefield surgery on wounded comrades, or chopped valuable fast-degrading bits out of dead monsters, while a battle was actually raging around her. Long before Mary ran out of breath, Gladys had flawlessly extracted the gallbladder, tied up the tubes to prevent any loss of the vital magical fluid, placed it in a sample jar with alchemical preservatives, and sealed the jar.
After that, everyone relaxed. Gladys resumed the dissection and anatomy lesson. She was very knowledgeable, and clearly cared about the subject matter, but delivered the knowledge with a fast monologue and never stopped to check if her audience was actually understanding anything. It didn't matter. Mary absorbed everything with rapt attention.
Soon, the owlbear had been reduced to a completely disconnected pile of bones and tissue scattered across all available deck space, and in some cases hung over railings. This was more Mary's doing than Gladys's. Gladys would have simply chucked things over the railing, to drift away endlessly in zero gravity, after talking about them. But Mary insisted on placing them in a kind of exploded diagram, to try to see see how they would have all connected to each other in a living being. Everyone else tolerated this with a kind of stunned fascination, and an unwillingness to take a fun toy away from an excited child.
However, after it was all done, and Mary was confident that she knew how everything worked and fit together, and they had tossed everything overboard, Ra fal glared at Mary sternly and pointed at the mop and bucket.
It took her hours to clean everything off the deck and railings, until there was no longer any sight or scent that might scare off the next owlbear they planned to lure, but she did not seem to care. As she worked tirelessly, replaying the lesson in her mind, the rest of the crew sailed to the next island to repeat the process, with the goal of exterminating all of the owlbears in the archipelago.
Next (Tsinta)
4f: Sofonisba Centipedes
Past the floating chains of islands,
Past the drifting groundless forests,
Past the rushing deep-space rivers,
Past the fiery motes of starstuff,
Sailed the spaceship, Kiss of Fortune
On an epic quest for turnips.
Past the flocks of feathered space-fish,
Past the drifting mindless jellies,
Past the spaceship-snaring spiders,
Past the turtles on migration,
Sailed the spaceship, Kiss of Fortune
On an epic quest for turnips.
Past the wrecks of iron dreadnoughts,
Past the lairs of dreaming dragons,
Past the shim'ring astral portals,
Past the ruined demon temples,
Sailed the spaceship, Kiss of Fortune
On an epic quest for turnips.
On the evening of the fifth day,
there arose a sudden wind-gust:
Kiss of Fortune pitched and toppled,
turned and nearly capsized over,
almost smashed into an island
by the fearsome blast of space-wind.
But the rookie crew's quick thinking,
and a burst of frenetic effort,
stopped disaster, only barely,
and the ship and valiant sailors
tied up to a verdant island
full of giant toxic space-bugs.
Soon they found themselves in combat
with a horde of fearsome hunters:
centipedes of mindless hunger
rushing, swarming, all-consuming,
with their giant poison pincers
that would paralyze and eat you.
But the women fought them bravely,
though it was their first encounter
as a team in line of battle.
Fought them with their varied talents:
all for one, and one for all, with
growing teamwork, growing cunning.
Captain Ra fal, bold and cunning,
fighting with her blood-red paddle,
roaring, smashing, yelling tactics.
Gladys Joyjuice, body-builder:
fighting with her sword and potions,
right in front to shield her comrades.
Tsinta woodborn, fae-touched mystic,
fighting with her beams of starlight,
and the fury of a savage.
Sofonisba, arcane archer,
fighting with her mystic longbow,
and, when needed, with her rapier.
Mabellyne, the master tinker,
fighting with her crafty crossbow,
and the calmness of a scholar.
Bright young Mary, fearless princess,
fighting with her family heirlooms:
scimitar and mica armor.
All though evening, all through morning
they were fighting, or were stalking
for the fearsome toxic foe-beasts,
for they knew that, on this island,
other people might be stranded
and those people needed safety.
After all the foes were vanquished,
it was time for celebration.
time for all to join in feasting,
feasting on the vanquished foe-beasts.
All were gathered, all were working
on the victory barbecuing.
Three there were who claimed the knowledge
of the proper ways of cooking.
Three there were who sought to claim the
title of the chief pit mistress:
Sofonisba Anguissola,
Mabellyne, and also Tsinta.
Through the day, and through the evening
all were smoking, all were basting,
all were carving, all were turning.
All were using all their cunning
all their knowledge, all their wisdom,
on the task of meat perfection.
And when all were done with cooking,
then the meat was served and tasted.
In the end, there was one victor
only one who claimed the title:
Sofonisba Anguissola,
chosen queen of barbecuing!
Next (Mary)
Past the drifting groundless forests,
Past the rushing deep-space rivers,
Past the fiery motes of starstuff,
Sailed the spaceship, Kiss of Fortune
On an epic quest for turnips.
Past the flocks of feathered space-fish,
Past the drifting mindless jellies,
Past the spaceship-snaring spiders,
Past the turtles on migration,
Sailed the spaceship, Kiss of Fortune
On an epic quest for turnips.
Past the wrecks of iron dreadnoughts,
Past the lairs of dreaming dragons,
Past the shim'ring astral portals,
Past the ruined demon temples,
Sailed the spaceship, Kiss of Fortune
On an epic quest for turnips.
On the evening of the fifth day,
there arose a sudden wind-gust:
Kiss of Fortune pitched and toppled,
turned and nearly capsized over,
almost smashed into an island
by the fearsome blast of space-wind.
But the rookie crew's quick thinking,
and a burst of frenetic effort,
stopped disaster, only barely,
and the ship and valiant sailors
tied up to a verdant island
full of giant toxic space-bugs.
Soon they found themselves in combat
with a horde of fearsome hunters:
centipedes of mindless hunger
rushing, swarming, all-consuming,
with their giant poison pincers
that would paralyze and eat you.
But the women fought them bravely,
though it was their first encounter
as a team in line of battle.
Fought them with their varied talents:
all for one, and one for all, with
growing teamwork, growing cunning.
Captain Ra fal, bold and cunning,
fighting with her blood-red paddle,
roaring, smashing, yelling tactics.
Gladys Joyjuice, body-builder:
fighting with her sword and potions,
right in front to shield her comrades.
Tsinta woodborn, fae-touched mystic,
fighting with her beams of starlight,
and the fury of a savage.
Sofonisba, arcane archer,
fighting with her mystic longbow,
and, when needed, with her rapier.
Mabellyne, the master tinker,
fighting with her crafty crossbow,
and the calmness of a scholar.
Bright young Mary, fearless princess,
fighting with her family heirlooms:
scimitar and mica armor.
All though evening, all through morning
they were fighting, or were stalking
for the fearsome toxic foe-beasts,
for they knew that, on this island,
other people might be stranded
and those people needed safety.
After all the foes were vanquished,
it was time for celebration.
time for all to join in feasting,
feasting on the vanquished foe-beasts.
All were gathered, all were working
on the victory barbecuing.
Three there were who claimed the knowledge
of the proper ways of cooking.
Three there were who sought to claim the
title of the chief pit mistress:
Sofonisba Anguissola,
Mabellyne, and also Tsinta.
Through the day, and through the evening
all were smoking, all were basting,
all were carving, all were turning.
All were using all their cunning
all their knowledge, all their wisdom,
on the task of meat perfection.
And when all were done with cooking,
then the meat was served and tasted.
In the end, there was one victor
only one who claimed the title:
Sofonisba Anguissola,
chosen queen of barbecuing!
Next (Mary)
4e: Ra fal Centipedes
After a few days of flying, we had decided to take a detour to an island infested by giant centipedes to practice fighting as a team in a controlled situation. It would be an easy fight for all of the veteran adventurers, which would let us focus on practicing our teamwork and giving Mary and Mabellyne their first taste of combat.
Everyone knew that Mary was not an adventurer, so we all set up the line of battle to protect her while giving her the chance to fight bugs one at a time. But Mabellyne's situation was trickier. While it was clear to me that she was a civilian expert, Gladys had jumped to the conclusion that Mabellyne was an experienced adventuring rogue, and made tactical assumptions accordingly. Mabellyne had not corrected this assumption.
During introductions, Mabellyne had always been cagey about her experience. She focused on her technical qualifications and engineering knowledge. She had told stories about picking locks and filching items and setting traps and hiding and sneaking and almost being caught while doing these things. She was telling the truth, and told these stories with a kind of drama and flair that hinted at dungeon-diving escapades, but they could just as easily have described childish pranks done under the noses of adults. She gave the impression of experience without ever directly claiming it.
I did not know what Tsinta and Sofonisba knew, but they both treated Mabellyne as though she was an experienced adventurer. And of course, we were all great heroes in Mary's eyes. So everyone else either truly believed that Mabellyne was a veteran, or acted like they believed it. I did not know exactly what Mabellyne's game was, whether she was plotting for status or simply trying to fit in due to a feeling of insecurity.
This was a knot that I would have to untie later. For this fight, I needed to make sure that Mabellyne was protected as well, without making it obvious that I was doing that. This was done by assigning her to an archery role, staying back and shooting bugs with her crossbow. I would prepare healing spells and other contingencies for if she panicked and shot someone in the back.
Thankfully, that never happened. She was a steady and competent archer. Her shots did not have that extra precision and punch you would expect from a real rogue, but the bugs were so weak it did not matter. Mary also did well, competently handling herself and scoring several good hits on the bugs with her family's magic scimitar. All of our fights went fine, with no real incidents or nasty surprises. I had little faith that things would go so well if Mabellyne was ever surprised and attacked directly by something, or if Mary ever sensed that the team was not in control of the situation, but that was a problem for the future.
This had been a good day, bonding us further as a crew, and we would finish it off by feasting on the flesh of our vanquished foes.
In theory Sofonisba was the chef in charge of this, but when it comes to barbecue everyone thinks she is the expert. Gladys was actually needed to monitor the alchemists's brew of strange chemicals she had used to preserve the insect flesh, and make sure they cooked off properly, but Tsinta and Mabellyne were just making nuisances of themselves.
"We need to baste it again so it will not dry out."
"That would be true if we were using a vinegar-based sauce, but they already got a mustard glaze."
"Mustard buries taste. Proper spicing is subtle. Let meat be itself."
"Invalid argument. Naturalistic fallacy."
"She is right. If we let this meat 'be itself' it would be a mass of rotting sludge."
"We need more fuel, grab another bundle of straw.
"Not that much!"
"I know. I am just drying these out for later."
"Well, you better make sure they do not catch fire."
"This would be a lot easier with proper logs."
"Not going to happen. Basically every ecosystem capable of growing trees is either already colonized or too dangerous for us to safely explore."
I considered intervening to stop the bickering, but they would need to learn how to sort it out themselves. Now that everyone was more comfortable with each other, they were putting less effort into being polite and even-tempered. That was necessary; nobody can function well for weeks while constantly being on their best behavior at all times, but it would mean that personality conflicts would start to whip up soon. Letting them argue about cooking now would let them get more comfortable with each other and practice managing each other's quirks.
So I walked away from the smoke and noise, did a quick scan of the environment for threats, and went back to the ship to check on its mooring.
Mary was lying on her back in the grass near the ship, looking up at the stars. When she heard my footsteps, she glanced at me, then looked back up. "They're so beautiful."
I sat down, with my back to a rock, where I could look at Mary and also see the ship and the barbecue in my peripheral vision. "Yes, they are."
Mary looked at me. "You don't sound like you mean it."
I shrugged. "People say that stars or mountains or forests are beautiful, but I never really see it. I care about people; I see beauty in their stories and dreams. Nothing else speaks to me like that."
Mary thought about this. "Did you think that Boomport was beautiful?"
I snorted. "It was a filthy mess, like any port."
"I thought it was beautiful. It was so alive and vibrant, full of things to discover, like, um, like the city was one giant story book, with a thousand authors, all of them telling their own little stories but it adds up to one huge grand interesting story that you can never really know all of it but you desperately want to."
I stopped to consider this. "I think I see what you mean. I have heard other bards talking about working a crowd, how a mass of people can act like one, and they say similar things. But that was never me. I work with individuals, and with small crews and teams, but not crowds."
"I wouldn't even know you were a bard if Gladys hadn't called you one. At first I thought you were a paladin."
I fake-glared at her. "I will try not to take that as an insult."
"Do a lot of people make that mistake?"
"No, most people take one look at me and assume I am a barbarian or fighter. If they see me cast a spell they assume warlock. Why did you see a paladin?"
"I dunno, you seemed magical somehow. And you have this sense of power and authority and purpose that I'd only seen in church people with divine blessings."
"I see. Well, thank you."
"Why don't you like paladins?"
"They are dangerous. They do not listen to people. They believe that they know best and everyone should follow their rules. They make everything about them, they twist everyone into being a part of their story, instead of respecting the stories that already exist. And it does not help that most of them are dumber than a troll."
Mary giggled.
I continued. It was nice to talk to someone who was just curious, not a threat or competitor or business contact or someone I would have to manage. "You know that I am the first one to lose patience with all that wizardly crap, people who think that they should rule the world just because they have a lot of book smarts. The world is made of people, and knowing how to deal with them is the most important thing. But you have to have some knowledge and sense, or at least be willing to listen to people who do, before you gather up a horde of followers and go on a crusade."
Mary was listening intently. I realized what was happening; I was playing the role of wise stern mentor. What I said now would be part of her story forever, and would shape her understanding of the world. I paused to collect my thoughts, and then continued, measuring my words carefully.
"Having power without guidance will make you just mess everything up. That is always true for everyone, but it is most dramatic with magical power. History books are full of stories of paladins and sorcerers and warlocks ruining countless lives because they were trying to follow some mad plan to impose their will on the world. Clerics are guided by gods and church traditions and wisdom, wizards are guided by intellect and study and science, and bards are guided by lore and stories and the will of the people. But other spellcasters are likely to be loose cannons guided by nothing, and paladins are the most dangerous of the bunch because they always think they are right, and because people tend to follow them blindly."
"What about rangers and druids?"
"They are mostly like clerics. Although they tend to care about the land more than people, and I never trust that. You should always listen to people, their dreams and stories, and let that guide your actions. If you think you know better than everyone else, then you are probably wrong."
"So paladins are dangerous because they ignore what everyone else knows and wants?"
"That is right."
"So if everyone else thinks something is beautiful and important, and you just ignore it or don't care about it, then you are acting like a paladin."
"Yes."
Mary smiled slyly and looked up at the stars.
I thought for a couple seconds, and then burst into a great booming gust of laughter. "Okay, I see what you did there. The thing is, I am not stopping you from enjoying the stars. I am not telling you that you are wrong for seeing beauty in them. As long as you are a decent crew member, you can do or love anything you want. And when you tell me that the stars are beautiful, I will agree with you."
I made my voice more serious. "And, most importantly, if I think something is beautiful, I will not tell you that you should also see it as beautiful. Even if more people are like me, I will let you follow your own story."
Mary nodded solemnly.
We sat there, in silence, for several minutes. She went back to admiring the stars, while thinking about our talk. I did another casual scan for threats, looking for anything moving in suspicious ways.
I looked over at the barbecue, and saw that the elves and goblins were almost finished. Mabellyne was taking all of the meat out of the exoskeletons and arranging it on a serving platter. There was a brief conversation with her and the others, and then the elves all joined her while Gladys started gathering up all the carcass scraps and taking them to a trash pit outside of the circle of firelight.
I addressed Mary. "The barbecue is almost ready. Nobody is making you do anything you do not want to do. You will always be a part of my crew, and you will always be my friend, no matter what you do or do not like to eat. But I ask you to think where your thoughts on food come from. Are they truly yours, or do they come from someone else's stories?"
Shortly after that, when Gladys bellowed 'Chow time!", Mary hopped up and bounded over without any hint of hesitation. I followed her, and saw that Mabellyne had arranged the food in the serving style of a human court. It could have been a pork barbecue; there was no hint of the food's insect origin. Mary grabbed a plate, served herself, took a bite, complemented everyone, and kept eating.
We all started laughing and smiling and enjoying our feast.
Next (Sofonisba)
Next Ra fal
Everyone knew that Mary was not an adventurer, so we all set up the line of battle to protect her while giving her the chance to fight bugs one at a time. But Mabellyne's situation was trickier. While it was clear to me that she was a civilian expert, Gladys had jumped to the conclusion that Mabellyne was an experienced adventuring rogue, and made tactical assumptions accordingly. Mabellyne had not corrected this assumption.
During introductions, Mabellyne had always been cagey about her experience. She focused on her technical qualifications and engineering knowledge. She had told stories about picking locks and filching items and setting traps and hiding and sneaking and almost being caught while doing these things. She was telling the truth, and told these stories with a kind of drama and flair that hinted at dungeon-diving escapades, but they could just as easily have described childish pranks done under the noses of adults. She gave the impression of experience without ever directly claiming it.
I did not know what Tsinta and Sofonisba knew, but they both treated Mabellyne as though she was an experienced adventurer. And of course, we were all great heroes in Mary's eyes. So everyone else either truly believed that Mabellyne was a veteran, or acted like they believed it. I did not know exactly what Mabellyne's game was, whether she was plotting for status or simply trying to fit in due to a feeling of insecurity.
This was a knot that I would have to untie later. For this fight, I needed to make sure that Mabellyne was protected as well, without making it obvious that I was doing that. This was done by assigning her to an archery role, staying back and shooting bugs with her crossbow. I would prepare healing spells and other contingencies for if she panicked and shot someone in the back.
Thankfully, that never happened. She was a steady and competent archer. Her shots did not have that extra precision and punch you would expect from a real rogue, but the bugs were so weak it did not matter. Mary also did well, competently handling herself and scoring several good hits on the bugs with her family's magic scimitar. All of our fights went fine, with no real incidents or nasty surprises. I had little faith that things would go so well if Mabellyne was ever surprised and attacked directly by something, or if Mary ever sensed that the team was not in control of the situation, but that was a problem for the future.
This had been a good day, bonding us further as a crew, and we would finish it off by feasting on the flesh of our vanquished foes.
In theory Sofonisba was the chef in charge of this, but when it comes to barbecue everyone thinks she is the expert. Gladys was actually needed to monitor the alchemists's brew of strange chemicals she had used to preserve the insect flesh, and make sure they cooked off properly, but Tsinta and Mabellyne were just making nuisances of themselves.
"We need to baste it again so it will not dry out."
"That would be true if we were using a vinegar-based sauce, but they already got a mustard glaze."
"Mustard buries taste. Proper spicing is subtle. Let meat be itself."
"Invalid argument. Naturalistic fallacy."
"She is right. If we let this meat 'be itself' it would be a mass of rotting sludge."
"We need more fuel, grab another bundle of straw.
"Not that much!"
"I know. I am just drying these out for later."
"Well, you better make sure they do not catch fire."
"This would be a lot easier with proper logs."
"Not going to happen. Basically every ecosystem capable of growing trees is either already colonized or too dangerous for us to safely explore."
I considered intervening to stop the bickering, but they would need to learn how to sort it out themselves. Now that everyone was more comfortable with each other, they were putting less effort into being polite and even-tempered. That was necessary; nobody can function well for weeks while constantly being on their best behavior at all times, but it would mean that personality conflicts would start to whip up soon. Letting them argue about cooking now would let them get more comfortable with each other and practice managing each other's quirks.
So I walked away from the smoke and noise, did a quick scan of the environment for threats, and went back to the ship to check on its mooring.
Mary was lying on her back in the grass near the ship, looking up at the stars. When she heard my footsteps, she glanced at me, then looked back up. "They're so beautiful."
I sat down, with my back to a rock, where I could look at Mary and also see the ship and the barbecue in my peripheral vision. "Yes, they are."
Mary looked at me. "You don't sound like you mean it."
I shrugged. "People say that stars or mountains or forests are beautiful, but I never really see it. I care about people; I see beauty in their stories and dreams. Nothing else speaks to me like that."
Mary thought about this. "Did you think that Boomport was beautiful?"
I snorted. "It was a filthy mess, like any port."
"I thought it was beautiful. It was so alive and vibrant, full of things to discover, like, um, like the city was one giant story book, with a thousand authors, all of them telling their own little stories but it adds up to one huge grand interesting story that you can never really know all of it but you desperately want to."
I stopped to consider this. "I think I see what you mean. I have heard other bards talking about working a crowd, how a mass of people can act like one, and they say similar things. But that was never me. I work with individuals, and with small crews and teams, but not crowds."
"I wouldn't even know you were a bard if Gladys hadn't called you one. At first I thought you were a paladin."
I fake-glared at her. "I will try not to take that as an insult."
"Do a lot of people make that mistake?"
"No, most people take one look at me and assume I am a barbarian or fighter. If they see me cast a spell they assume warlock. Why did you see a paladin?"
"I dunno, you seemed magical somehow. And you have this sense of power and authority and purpose that I'd only seen in church people with divine blessings."
"I see. Well, thank you."
"Why don't you like paladins?"
"They are dangerous. They do not listen to people. They believe that they know best and everyone should follow their rules. They make everything about them, they twist everyone into being a part of their story, instead of respecting the stories that already exist. And it does not help that most of them are dumber than a troll."
Mary giggled.
I continued. It was nice to talk to someone who was just curious, not a threat or competitor or business contact or someone I would have to manage. "You know that I am the first one to lose patience with all that wizardly crap, people who think that they should rule the world just because they have a lot of book smarts. The world is made of people, and knowing how to deal with them is the most important thing. But you have to have some knowledge and sense, or at least be willing to listen to people who do, before you gather up a horde of followers and go on a crusade."
Mary was listening intently. I realized what was happening; I was playing the role of wise stern mentor. What I said now would be part of her story forever, and would shape her understanding of the world. I paused to collect my thoughts, and then continued, measuring my words carefully.
"Having power without guidance will make you just mess everything up. That is always true for everyone, but it is most dramatic with magical power. History books are full of stories of paladins and sorcerers and warlocks ruining countless lives because they were trying to follow some mad plan to impose their will on the world. Clerics are guided by gods and church traditions and wisdom, wizards are guided by intellect and study and science, and bards are guided by lore and stories and the will of the people. But other spellcasters are likely to be loose cannons guided by nothing, and paladins are the most dangerous of the bunch because they always think they are right, and because people tend to follow them blindly."
"What about rangers and druids?"
"They are mostly like clerics. Although they tend to care about the land more than people, and I never trust that. You should always listen to people, their dreams and stories, and let that guide your actions. If you think you know better than everyone else, then you are probably wrong."
"So paladins are dangerous because they ignore what everyone else knows and wants?"
"That is right."
"So if everyone else thinks something is beautiful and important, and you just ignore it or don't care about it, then you are acting like a paladin."
"Yes."
Mary smiled slyly and looked up at the stars.
I thought for a couple seconds, and then burst into a great booming gust of laughter. "Okay, I see what you did there. The thing is, I am not stopping you from enjoying the stars. I am not telling you that you are wrong for seeing beauty in them. As long as you are a decent crew member, you can do or love anything you want. And when you tell me that the stars are beautiful, I will agree with you."
I made my voice more serious. "And, most importantly, if I think something is beautiful, I will not tell you that you should also see it as beautiful. Even if more people are like me, I will let you follow your own story."
Mary nodded solemnly.
We sat there, in silence, for several minutes. She went back to admiring the stars, while thinking about our talk. I did another casual scan for threats, looking for anything moving in suspicious ways.
I looked over at the barbecue, and saw that the elves and goblins were almost finished. Mabellyne was taking all of the meat out of the exoskeletons and arranging it on a serving platter. There was a brief conversation with her and the others, and then the elves all joined her while Gladys started gathering up all the carcass scraps and taking them to a trash pit outside of the circle of firelight.
I addressed Mary. "The barbecue is almost ready. Nobody is making you do anything you do not want to do. You will always be a part of my crew, and you will always be my friend, no matter what you do or do not like to eat. But I ask you to think where your thoughts on food come from. Are they truly yours, or do they come from someone else's stories?"
Shortly after that, when Gladys bellowed 'Chow time!", Mary hopped up and bounded over without any hint of hesitation. I followed her, and saw that Mabellyne had arranged the food in the serving style of a human court. It could have been a pork barbecue; there was no hint of the food's insect origin. Mary grabbed a plate, served herself, took a bite, complemented everyone, and kept eating.
We all started laughing and smiling and enjoying our feast.
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