Traveller Campaign

[fsn]

For anyone who wants to fill out their Traveller PDF collection, I've just seen this linked to on BoardGameGeek: Classic Traveller Bundle

~£15 for 61 PDFs...

Get the behind me Stan! I think I've got most of them in hard copy ... but for only £15 ... I am tempted.

[fsn]

£345 of goods for £15! I'd be a fool to resist ... and my mother did not raise a fool.


(She subcontracted the job to others)

[fred.]

For anyone who wants to fill out their Traveller PDF collection, I've just seen this linked to on BoardGameGeek: Classic Traveller Bundle

~£15 for 61 PDFs...

That is a deal and a half!


Quite tempted myself, even if just for nostalgia reasons. I owned many of the little black books some time ago (perhaps 35 years, but I don't want to do the maths too carefully). I have no idea where they ended up - I do still have some key bits of RPG stuff from that time. 

I'm looking at the list and trying to recall which ones I had - certainly a small fraction of the 61 listed, but I feel it was probably around 10, but I'm struggling to match titles to memory!

[O Dinas Powys]

£345 of goods for £15! I'd be a fool to resist ... and my mother did not raise a fool.


(She subcontracted the job to others)

Get the behind me Stan! I think I've got most of them in hard copy ... but for only £15 ... I am tempted.

(Minor) apologies 

I mostly resist the bundles on the basis I'm never going to use the stuff, but occasionally something will show up that's too tempting to resist 
(Usually RuneQuest of Pendragon based...)

Whilst I find running stuff from PDFs a pain, printing the bits I need for a particular session is great.

[fsn]

They took the second part of the journey at a more considered pace. The closest human activity to Warspite was a group of carts or wagons clustered  around one of the unusual towering rock formations. However, when they arrived at the spot, marked by the hovering drone, there was no sign that anyone had ever been there.

No carts. No wagons. No humans. York did notice that the rock had been worked somewhat, but the site was clean. Alder and Rowan made a sweep and found nothing – not even tracks.

The only one who was bitterly disappointed was Smita. She glowed mightily in her frustration.
"Where's the nearest settlement?" She asked. York was sympathetic. He wouldn't like to have been turned into a human glo-stick. He wondered if the glow would only be visible on Brenda, if removing Smita from the planet would remove the glow.

"Perhaps, " postulated Lydia "if we go back to the Warspite and get off this rock, you'll go back to normal."  York winced at the word "normal".
"I mean, "Lydia continued "back to your usual self." She smiled her dazzling smile at Smita.  "Have a chocolate muffin."

She tossed the small cake to Smita who deftly caught it and begin to nibble on it distractedly.
York wondered where Lydia had been keeping the foodstuffs, and if she had more.

"Last one." She said, popping the last morsel into her mouth.  "Sorry."  She smiled in a sorry-not-sorry sort of way.

"Sorry to interrupt," Alex was monitoring the drone feed "but there's a party of humans about an hour further on. They seem to be spread out but moving quite quickly."
"Search party." Rowan commented, passing what appeared to be a cup cake to her sister. York looked at Alison.
"What?" she asked, surreptitiously but daintily wiping crumbs of what York suspected was something delicious from her lips

"Let's go." Smita swung her bag onto her shoulder and stomped off. The others shouldered their weapons and took off in her wake. Alison  hurried to catch up with her charge; Alder and Rowan drifted away to scout. This left York and Lydia to bring up the rear.  She patted his shoulder and passed him a mini-Battenberg.  He took it and looked down at her. For some reason, he felt a great swelling of emotion ... affection ... something stronger.

Lydia blushed. She blushed as she did most things – prettily.
"Jeez York, it's just a cake." She skipped ahead leaving York pondering the effect Brenda was having on him.



Lady Kelete wiped the sweat from her brow. Her band had been scouring the land for three days searching for the expedition which had gone out of contact. Even Oz with his mind could not detect their lives, and Oz was most powerful. Kelete looked to left and right, noting the volunteers who were strung out in a ragged line across the landscape – three to either side. Kelete's own warriors she kept around her, a rally place for the volunteers. They could run to her and she could protect them with her white metal sword, and she was invincible in her white metal armour.

The white metal armour may give her great protection, but wearing it for long periods was a hot and tiring business.

"There!" Tyrel, Kelete's  trusted lieutenant pointed. Ahead some distance ahead, was a water spout. On a rock beside it sat a man. He seemed quite relaxed, watching the approaching soldiers incuriously. Kelete signalled the advance and then quickened her pace. Perhaps this was one they were looking for.

"Others behind the rock." Oz reported. She nodded, trusting Oz's abilities. Lady Kelete slowed her advance. She put hand to sword hilt. The man on the rock made no move. Kelete advanced a few more paces, her soldiers clustered behind her.

"Hello." Said the man on the rock. "My name is York. I have some friends here, but we'd like to know you're not going to try and murder us before they come out." He smiled a guileless smile. "If, on the other hand, you do have murder in your heart, we may have a problem."

"I think, " responded Lady Kelete, "that we could dispose of you and your friends ..." she looked at Oz, who raised three fingers "... your three friends if we were so minded. We have white armour and white blades."

"Pleased for you," smiled York "but you may not be aware of a few things ..."

"Get on with it York!" Kelete could not locate the speaker. She looked at Oz, who shook his head. "Do we kill them or not?" the voice continued.

York sat on a rock, regarding them incuriously
"I think we've measured ... " he looked a Kelete "capabilities quite enough. I think we can be friends." He titled his head in unasked question.

"About time." To Lady Kelete, Rowan and Alder seemed to appear from the dust - positioned to have attacked her party from a flank. She glowered at Oz, who shrugged apologetically. To Tyrel, she hissed "get The Collator  - NOW!"

Where does Lydia keep her little fancies? What was York originally going to measure with the Lady  Kelete? Who or what is The Collator? Find out next time!

[Duke Speedy of Leighton]

Best enjoyed after a 5 miler with the hound and with a chic chip cookie.

Nice one Nobby.

[fsn]

Thanks.

York pulled off a hard Persuade task. To be fair I did give him a +1 'cos he wasn't radiating "hostile vibes".

[Radar]

The old Citadel Traveller figures which went to the now defunct RAFM, have been picked up by Ral Partha Legacy. Not listed yet... alas they don't come in the box sets

I notice that someone has a load of them listed on a certain auction site at £12-15 each!

Were the Martian Metals 15mm Traveller figures the same?

[Techno 3]

Nice one, Nobby !👍

[fsn]

The old Citadel Traveller figures which went to the now defunct RAFM, have been picked up by Ral Partha Legacy. Not listed yet... alas they don't come in the box sets

I notice that someone has a load of them listed on a certain auction site at £12-15 each!

Wow! I'm sitting on a fortune.

I also have a lot of those Citadel figures.  

[Raider4]

Wow! I'm sitting on a fortune.

I also have a lot of those Citadel figures.  

You'd think so. But...


When you try & sell them, they're made of lead. When you try to buy them, suddenly they're made of gold.

Just because someone is offering <item> for silly money on an auction site doesn't mean anyone is actually buying. 

[O Dinas Powys]

 

[fsn]

Rowan and Alder were talking to a few of Kelete's soldiers, demonstrating their bows to the enthralled audience. From the darkness, another warrior appeared. He was taller than the others, maybe a head taller, clad in armour which had been dulled by stain or paint, and contrasted to the brightly polished armour of the others. Seeing this giant approach, the soldiers bowed politely to Alder and then to Rowan and moved away at a dignified, but speedy pace.

The tall warrior stood with hands on hips, feet apart, and looked appraisingly at the Warspite crew.
"I am The Collator. Those are the bows.  Give them to me." He said, his voice a deep rumble. Alder snorted. Rowan shook her head.
"No." She said. "We won't."
"Give them to me or I will take them." The Collator pushed his cloak aside so the hilt of his sword was revealed. The threat was evident.
"Three and five." Said Alder. Rowan nodded.
"Eight and ... fourteen." Responded her sister, without looking away from the giant's face.
"Fourteen?" Asked Alder. "Ooooh! Nasty."
"What is this nonsense?" Rumbled The Collator. "What are these numbers?"
"Well, we're deciding where we're going to cut you. Painful but not immediately fatal." The Collator looked shocked, then his brow cleared and he laughed – a low, genuine sound of amusement. He held his hands up.
"Peace, peace, sisters! I challenge you and you answer the challenge well." His face became serious. "You are doughty fighters, I can see that, and you share a bond stronger than just a shared birth. Tell me, did you know the numbers your sister would choose?" The sisters exchanged glances. Alder shrugged.
"I suppose so.  Always seem to know what she is thinking." The Collator nodded.
"You do. I sense you have a link ..." he pointed at his head "... between your minds, and " he added "you can hide yourselves ..." Rowan moved to speak, but The Collator stilled her with a raised finger "not just from searching eyes, but from searching minds. Oz is smarting because he could not find your presence." He smiled, and broadly grinned. "That amuses me. Now, will you tell me about bows?" Slightly nonplussed by The Collator's pronouncements, the sisters were happy to return to more familiar topics.
"You don't have wood here, but we think you could make a bow out of horn ..."


Smita fed some more of the dead pompom into the fire. She was trying to control her glow, and found that she could channel it to her fingers or her toes, or she supposed any part of her body. She had a naughty thought and giggled, hiding her mouth behind a hand.

"What amuses you, child?" Smita looked up, surprised. On the other side of the fire an old woman stood, hands clasped in front of her . Her head was shaved and she wore a loose robe and breeches, belted with a simple rope.

From the shadows a long blade appeared and rested on the woman's shoulder.
"Whatever it was is no concern of yours." Alison remained in the shadows. The old woman looked at the blade without apparent concern.
"I am here to help." She said. "I am called The Collator." Smita tilted her head, studying the old woman. The trio stood as in a  cameo for long seconds. Smita nodded.
"Alison, I came here for help. Perhaps The Collator can help."
"I help." Said The Collator.
"I watch." replied Alison. The blade withdrew, but was not sheathed.
"You watch." The Collator smiled.  "Tell me, "she whispered softly, so that Smita could not hear, "does she replace the daughter you lost?" Without waiting for a reply, The Collator moved towards Smita.

"This glow is quite a nuisance." The Collator observed.
"I'm trying to control it. Can I control it? What does it mean? Will it go away? How can I make it go away?"  The Collator chuckled.
"I help." She raised her voice to address Alison. "Soldier, I am going to help this one. I am going to hold her hands. She may be momentarily distressed, but it is nothing to worry about. Like having a dislocated shoulder reset. Please don't kill me while I am helping." The Collator turned her lined face to Smita. "Now child, I am going to take your hands in mine. You have a power in you that is uncontrolled and wild. I will teach you how to start controlling and using it. It is only a start, and you will continue to learn on your own, but it will help."
The Collator held out her hands. Smita looked over the old woman's shoulder at Alison, who stood unmoving, face an unreadable mask.
"OK," she said, and held took the offered hands.


Lydia hated being dirty. She had sweated in armour for far too long and was sure that she smelled like a ...  well an unpleasantly smelly thing. She glanced longingly at the water gushing from the ground. Could she? She saw a figure sat by the fountain, apparently oblivious to the world around them, staring into space. As she neared, Lydia saw that the figure was a young woman, early twenties in Earth years.
"'Scuse me." Lydia said." Is it safe to wash in this water?" The young woman flashed a dazzling smile.
"Sure, if you don't mind going blue. "She laughed, a tinkling, clear laugh. "I'm kidding. I don't meet people from ..." she pointed to the sky " ... up there, and it's nice to know they can be fooled like everyone else. I'm The Collator by the way. You're Lydia."
Lydia had stripped the armour off her chest and soaked her neck cloth in the water. She revelled in the coolness, the feeling of being if not clean, then cleaner.
"I am."
"Are you York's woman?" Asked The Collator. Lydia frowned. She paused in her ablutions. "Don't you know?" persisted the girl.
"It's complicated." Lydia prevaricated. The Collator laughed again.
"No it isn't. If you are attracted to each other, you should make it known. " Her voice took on a sly tone. "Maybe he has tried you and you didn't satisfy. Good for a night, but not for life." She giggled.
"Maybe he would prefer something younger and not so ... " she looked appraisingly at Lydia "... lumpy."
Lydia bridled. She forced a sweet smile on her face.
"What passes between York and me is none of your business. "  She said acidly. The Collator ignored the remark and continued as if Lydia had not spoken.
"Well, if he isn't yours, I shall have to use him." Lydia gasped at the audacity of the younger woman. "We need fresh blood, and he is the only man in your party. It would be good to have babies with his hair colour."
"Babies?" Lydia expostulated. "Plural?" But the Collator had gone.  Angrily Lydia strapped on her armour.
"I'm going to scratch her eyes out." she muttered through clenched teeth.

Where is a number 14? What happened to Smita when she held the Collator's hands? Will York yield to the Collator's blandishments and will Lydia scratch out her eyes?

I dunno. Let's find out together. 

[Duke Speedy of Leighton]

Interesting twist Nobby, canna wait to see where it goes.

[Ithoriel]

I liked that. A lot! I;m intrigued to see where you go with it.

[Techno 3]

Ditto.

[fsn]

York sat with his back to the rock. His cloak was pulled around him to break up the shape of his body to scrying eyes. A similarly cloaked figure walked confidently up to stand a few paces in front of him.

"You are York. I am the Collator."
"Pleased to meet you. Have a seat." The Collator sat beside York, adjusting their cloak. York continued to scan the distance.  They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Something bothers you." Said the Collator. York grunted.
"I have a list."
"Tell me."
"Well, in no particular order, I have a downed ship which is being fixed enough to get us off this planet, but looks as if it might need more repairs. Half my crew are wandering around after a young woman who has colourful anger issues." The Collator laughed.
"That problem may be, if not resolved, then the resolution has been initiated."
"Well, that's good news."
"You have other problems."
"Well there are some bigger issues than the fate of one ship. First off, there's a colony of humans here who appear to have been abandoned and forgotten.  In fact there's a lot of hardware up there to dissuade the inquisitive.  What do I do when I get back to ... back out there. Do I tell someone? What do the people here want? Is there even a single human voice here?"
"That" opined the Collator "is something of a complicated question. One for another time." York sighed.
"Well that doesn't surprise me. Then ..." York paused "... there is a more immediate puzzle."
"Yes?" prompted the Collator.
"From what I have observed there are two groups of people here. There are the humans, who build castles and wear shiny armour, and there are the others ..."
"The Ips .. the Indigenous People. " offered the Collator.
"The Ips, who seem partly nomadic and partly settled in copper yurts ... and  then ..."
"There is a third."
"There is a third. The Ips didn't disappear the human group we were hoping to meet, and Lady Kelete seems very uncomfortable, unsettled, as if there is something new and unknown disturbing her."
"Very perceptive. Recently, we have lost people. They have just disappeared. We can't find any sign of them, our sensitives cannot find their minds. They simply disappear. We have also noted a greater than usual number of  Ips moving in one direction."
"Is that unusual?" The Collator sighed.
"It is. The Ips move almost randomly. They will camp, spend a time gathering and hunting and then move off, sometimes back to where they have come from. There are some Ips who will talk to us  and they seem ... frightened."
 
Lydia came storming around the rock. Before she could speak, the Collator held up a pacifying hand.
"You have decided. That is good." The Collator drew back her hood. This was not the young girl, but an unremarkable middle aged woman, greying hair pulled into a tight bun behind her pleasant face.
"You're .. you ... where is she?" demanded Lydia. The Collator looked down at York, who was gazing nonplussed at the interaction.
"I have a confession." Declared the Collator. "I have ... misled your crew." Lydia made to speak but the Collator waved another silencing hand. The Collator continued to address York.
"I have appeared to them in various guises and ... tested them. " She gave a half smile. "I can amend people's perceptions. It's a relatively useless skill that I don't get to practice often." Lydia made as if to move, but the Collator stilled her again. Lydia's hue was rising from red to purple. York stood and placed himself between the women.
"Let her go." Said York. The Collator nodded, and Lydia found herself free from control. York stopped her headlong, murderous rush at the Collator by enfolding her in his arms.
"Be calm." He whispered. Lydia struggled for a moment, then subsided into stillness.
"What did you find?" He asked the Collator. She smiled again, and looked at Lydia.
"Many things. You have your secrets and your sorrows. I shall not speak of them, and I apologise for the intrusions in your minds." Before York could intervene, Lydia stepped forward and slapped the Collator across the cheek. The older woman took the blow, then bowed her head.
"You are right, Lydia. What started out as a ... test of character became too pointed. Please forgive me."
"You're not going to ... you know?" asked Lydia between clenched teeth. The Collator looked at York appraisingly.
"It is too late for that." she said, gnomically. York, completely nonplussed asked
"Did you deceive me?" The Collator shook her head.
"No. You may not know it, but you are very strong. I doubt if I could shape your mind, even in your untrained state."
"No more games." He growled. She nodded.


The news of the Collator's deception met mixed reaction from the Warspite crew. Rowan and Alder shrugged it off as a ruse to be wary of in future; Smita was enthralled and plied the Collator with questions about her powers and how she could develop them; Alison kept a sullen distance; wary but watchful. Lydia plastered a smile on her face, but anyone watching would have noticed she kept close to York. Only York seemed unmoved, perhaps distracted by the momentous decisions that lay on his mind.

The next day, the combined party set off towards the Warspite. York and his party led the way, followed by the unarmoured volunteers, with the Collator in their midst. Lady Kelete and her troop brought up the rear.

They stopped after a few hours. Loads were laid aside and sore feet massaged. Lydia passed a water flask to York. She smiled wanly at him.
"Are we OK?" She asked. He looked at her. Again, he felt something move inside him. Something he didn't yet understand. Lydia blushed, and that broke his reverie.
"We're good." He passed the flask back to her. Their fingers touched, and York felt as if he'd touched a power conduit. He jerked his hand back.
"Sheesh York, I'm not contagious." He paused, and pursed his lips, then very deliberately, took her hand in his.
"You're trembling." he observed.
"I want off this planet." She stammered. He didn't know why, but he took her in his arms.

"York!"  Alex's voice was urgent in his earpiece.
"Yes." Glancing around, he could see the other Warspite crew moving to a state of alertness.
"There's ... I don't know where they came from ..." Alex sounded flustered if not panicked. He gulped, gathered himself. "There are about 100 life forms heading your way, from the South. They are very fast and they just ... appeared. And before you ask " he added, "they don't have the same form as humans or Ips."
"Go tell the Collator and Lady Kelete" ordered York. Lydia scowled briefly, then scampered off.

The Humans stood on what passed for a hill on Brenda. Around them, dozens of figures swirled and jostled in a chaotic bur organised way. York studied them. They weren't goats and they weren't Ip, they were something in between. Their bodies were humanoid, their heads goatlike. They carried shields and spears, some carried swords or crude copper-covered clubs. They had silently surrounded the hill, then as one began chattering and baying and howling, banging weapons together and stamping their hooves.

"This isn't going to be good" observed Lydia, putting an arrow to her bowstring. York turned to look at her.
"I will protect you." He vowed, then felt incredibly foolish. 



You will be pleased/indifferent/sad to know that this is the penultimate post on this game. I will not reveal the outcome of this battle, but the Warspite will not have the same number of crew at the end of it. 

For those of you with a Traveller bent, when I created the characters, I did generate a psi score for them. They were all untrained, but some of them had potential. Smita's potential has been triggered by Brenda, and there's something happening with York. he actually has a very high psi score ( so would probably have been able to resist the Collator's deception. The Collator is not highly trained like a Zhodani, so not as effective at they could be.

How do the newcomers appear as if by magic, and are shielded from detection? Don't know. I'm not sure about their nature - if natural they be.

[Duke Speedy of Leighton]

Nice one Nobby

[fred.]

"this isn't going to be good"

Feel that may be an understatement- unless they have a lot of high velocity high rate of fire weaponry!

[Techno 3]

Hmmmm  

I wonder...

Good one, Nobby.