Pendraken Miniatures Forum

I have been playing Traveller since about 1977. I was an early adopter, and have continued playing on and off since then. I prefer the original but have obtained newer versions and have included some of the innovations into my game.

I've had the same ship and crew since ... well a long time ago. Regrettably their ship was damaged by a nosy battleship and they have crash lnded on a low tech world. Their stay may be prolonged as the materials for repairs may be scarce.

The planet they (crash)landed on has an interesting history. Centuries ago, a passenger liner, renamed the Mind of Mankind was bought by a group of psionically enabled humans who used it  tp try to escape the Imperium. The ship misjumped. This may have been because Imperium agents planted a bomb in the jump drive, that the Zhodani sent a battleship to actively dissuade the migrants, or even that the ship genuinely misumped.

The upshot was a crippled Mind of Mankind shedding escape pods over an unknown world. Many died in the attempt, or were sent in the wrong direction to die a cold, airless death in space. Of those that survived, many more died, prey to the natural fauna of the new world.

Humans are however somewhat resilient. Slowly, groups of survivors linked up and learned how to survive on the new world. They built villages, and towns; stongholds in which they could live and grow.

Over the centuries, the descendents of the survivors lost much of the knowledge and the technology of the original passengers of the Mind of Mankind. Scientific psionic abilities were retained only in the most degraded and basic form.

This then is the planet Brenda, a low tech Traveller environment, with widespread but crude psionics. It is not, repeat not a fantasy world.

Brenda is a grey world. Why? All my SF figures have grey bases because they're either on a space ship or in a city.

But how to diffentiate Brenda from other environments such as Eric? This is the chalenge. I gave myself a weekend, and a budget of £10 to pop down to the local B&M to source some B&M goods to repurpose in the pursuit of gaming expedience.

One intreresting fact about Brenda is that much of the flora and the geology is blue tinted. Why? Well, it's a combination of the high amount of copper in the crust, the refractive index of certain elements of the atmosphere and I had a can of blue spray paint to use up.

How did I do? Err .. mixed.  I spent £9 on pom-poms, a start shaped trinket box, some small tubs and a bucket and spade set. (I have deprived a child of the happiness of making sand castles. I am ashamed.)
(https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54511771183_964703a61e.jpg) 

The bucket an spade set had 7 pieces. I rejected the spade, but was left with 2 bridges, 3 vaguely fortification type buildings, and one very large keep. I did have vague intentions of using the start shaped trinket box as a landing pad for shuttles - then remembered that it was a low tech world, so it's now a blockhouse. The pompoms spiked onto florists wire become clusters of spherical plants. I've used both original colours and sprayed others. I like the sprayed ones best.   
(https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54511771118_a171f688d3.jpg) (https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54511699544_f3202dd222.jpg) (https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54510642817_66db962300.jpg)

I was going to use the tubs as rude dwellings, but that didn't really work for me, so there may have to be a plan B.

For less that £10, I'm quite pleased with the results. I have lots of the pom-poms left, and they may have a use as starshells or explosions.



       

An entertaining read for a Sunday morning. You even make a game of shopping by setting a limit for your purchases. To me the flora looks like it might be dangerous as well. Does it have locomotion? Is it a single individual or a collective?

Enjoy Brenda.

Thank you.

Indeed some of these creations do possess an ophidian quality.  :-\

Perhaps something akin to a venus flytrap?

Superb idea. Nice one Nobby

This looks fun!

You get a lot more in a bucket and spade set these days than I recall. 

It's 'not a fantasy world', but has a blue keep? You might need to keep reminding us of the first point. 

QuoteIt's 'not a fantasy world', but has a blue keep? You might need to keep reminding us of the first point.

No, definitely not fantasy.  :^o

Large blue carniverous goats are perfectly scientifically feasible.

Would that be Eric of Melnibone?

Excellent job, sir! That sandcastle set looks intriguing.

Quote from: fsn on 11 May 2025, 01:20:54 PMOne intreresting fact about Brenda is that much of the flora and the geology is blue tinted. Why? Well, it's a combination of the high amount of copper in the crust, the refractive index of certain elements of the atmosphere and I had a can of blue spray paint to use up.

 =O

QuoteThank you.

Indeed some of these creations do possess an ophidian quality.  :-\

Perhaps something akin to a venus flytrap?

Maybe you could return the pots and swap them for some pipe-cleaners and googly eyes...  :-\

Argh, no! Googly eyes are terrifying, and surely a work of Lucifer himself!

So is Brenda the blue planet ruled by a benevolent Blue Queen (aka the Blue Voice)?

Or are the tyrannical Blue Meanies in charge, making sure no one has any fun at all? 

QuoteWould that be Eric of Melnibone?

Nay tis Eric of Morecambe.



(Brief excerpt from a play what I wrote).

Nailed it, Ithoriel  :D

I can't help thinking that my very serious attempt to create a cost effective low tech SF where psionics are widespread if not well developed, and definitely not a fantasy setting, is being treated with less than the gravitas it deserves.   



Is it the name? If it helps, Brenda derives from the Old Norse and means "sword" or "flaming blade". 

Au contraire mon ami. Your terrain is excellent. What scale are the figures next to your keep? It's certainly different from the current fad of setting everything in a post-apoc scrayard as someone else pointed out recently. 

To be honest, the name does not help. If you'd called it "Altair IV" or "LV-218" I doubt you'd have got the same reaction. 

BTW, what is the gravitas of Brenda relative to Earth?

I agree with Raider4 is his initial assessment. The name, however, may represent a different scheme not centered on Earth relative and may have a deeper meaning in fsn's world building.

Blue
Ricky
Earth like
Non lethal
Dioxide
Atmosphere

But it could also be

Big
Rude
Early
Night
Damp
Atmospherics

QuoteAu contraire mon ami. Your terrain is excellent. What scale are the figures next to your keep? It's certainly different from the current fad of setting everything in a post-apoc scrayard as someone else pointed out recently.

Thank you. The figures are Pendraken from their ... err ... they are proxied from the slightly larger than 10mm ranges.   

QuoteTo be honest, the name does not help. If you'd called it "Altair IV" or "LV-218" I doubt you'd have got the same reaction.

Hmmm.  :-\  How about Cheryl?

Quote from: d_Guy on 13 May 2025, 01:44:15 PMBTW, what is the gravitas of Brenda relative to Earth?

It's Traveller, so I worked that out. It's 0.91g.  :D 

Quote from: d_Guy on 13 May 2025, 01:44:15 PMI agree with Raider4 is his initial assessment. The name, however, may represent a different scheme not centered on Earth relative and may have a deeper meaning in fsn's world building.

It does indeed. Brenda is a lady that I used to work with in a pub when I was but a lad. She had very blue eyes. She was smashing!  :-[

I get a feeling I may not be helping my case.

Names do matter - bad ones can break the "reality".

Space:1999s (already stupid) second series had a planet Luton.

40K had a planet Birmingham - it was in the deep south of the galactic map...

True. I remember reading a C19 French short story where the hoeroie had debouched to exotic location of Manchester.

If I had said that the planet was an derived from an Old Norse word for a flaming sword, and was called "Sordflamer", you'd all have been quite happy.  :P

QuoteIf I had said that the planet was an derived from an Old Norse word for a flaming sword, and was called "Sordflamer", you'd all have been quite happy.  :P

The trouble is, it doesn't sound like we are the ones you are trying to convince  ;)

Quote from: fsn on 13 May 2025, 03:19:33 PMBrenda is a lady that I used to work with in a pub when I was but a lad. She had very blue eyes. She was smashing!

Would you like some time alone with... um... your memories?

"It does indeed. Brenda is a lady that I used to work with in a pub when I was but a lad. She had very blue eyes. She was smashing!"

Smashed or smashing?

Quote from: Last Hussar on 14 May 2025, 12:01:21 PMWould you like some time alone with... um... your memories?

Quote from: d_Guy on 14 May 2025, 01:58:05 PMSmashed or smashing?

She was a beautiful person of impeccable grace.  :-[  She'd be about 80 nw, I reckon.

Quote from: fsn on 14 May 2025, 06:25:08 PMShe was a beautiful person of impeccable grace.

And she still spoke to YOU!

It was a bit like this ...

(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/d0sSr3wWgP0/hq720.jpg?sqp=-oaymwE7CK4FEIIDSFryq4qpAy0IARUAAAAAGAElAADIQj0AgKJD8AEB-AG-B4AC0AWKAgwIABABGGUgWihKMA8=&rs=AOn4CLAmW5mnTApO1dD-XHcSZqddAWJuxg)

Brenda was my boss for 2 years, and one of the worst bosses I had in 42 years. Her response  to every issue  you asked her for an opinion or guidance, she would just say " do what you thinks best" as she did not have a clue, and refused to take responsibility. I was told in confidence by another far more senior manager that she had only got the job as she was the only one who applied. 

Everyone else knew it was a poisoned chalice, as one of the objectives was to get all her team to get Cisco certification in their own time and expense. Despite the despite the Union telling them that it was not a contractual requirement for anybody to do this.
When she threatened me with Disciplinary action in a review meeting for refusing to get the certification at my own expense , I advised her that if she took this path I would resign, Take the company to court for Constructive Dismissal, and that I had already found out that I would have a solid case. Surprisingly they dropped this requirement within a fortnight of my meeting with her.

So inlike DGuy Brenda does not bring back any pleasant memories. 

QuoteIt was a bit like this ...

(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/d0sSr3wWgP0/hq720.jpg?sqp=-oaymwE7CK4FEIIDSFryq4qpAy0IARUAAAAAGAElAADIQj0AgKJD8AEB-AG-B4AC0AWKAgwIABABGGUgWihKMA8=&rs=AOn4CLAmW5mnTApO1dD-XHcSZqddAWJuxg)

The seven dwarfs were all in the hot-tub, feeling happy.

Happy got out, so the rest now felt grumpy.

Then it got late and they started feeling sleepy.

Apparently Brenda is a mis-hearing. The navigation officer, Owen "TaffY" Jones of Splot, was asked by the first officer Blodwyn Hughes of Abergavenny to find a good place to land. He suggested the "good hill" in his native language (Bryn Da) which was immediately corrupted by the pilot MacKenzie "Kangaroo" Digger as "Brenda".

Anyway, I think I have nearly doubled my output on the project by spending £8.95 on a can of copper spray paint. Why? Well, I wanted to create something from stuff I had around the house, and I also needed an indigenous species as a foil for the humans. I have used some paper cups and wooden cutlery  that I bought years ago or a party that nobody attended; some paper from an Amazon package, several soft drink bottles, two ypghurt pots and some pretty stones I found. 

Some things to note about Brenda. The planet is very light, and does not have a molten core. Most rocks are sedimentary and light - think more sandstone than granite - and easily worked. Copper is very common, both in pure and mineral ore forms. Veins of the metal can often be found protruding from the ground.

Although the soil of Brenda conceals many water deposits, the water is contaminated with diluted copper compounds and undrinkable for humans without processing. The indigenous species can drink the water without apparent ill effect.

The pom-poms appear to be ball shaped plants but are not actually plants, nor are they animals. They are something more akin to semi-sentient algae. They will root, but some species will catch and devour anything that gets caught in its branches. These root will immobilise their victims with their poisonous thorns, then slowly liquidise them with their sap. Some pom-poms may react to being touched and will lunge at the unfortunate creature that bumped into them. Pom-poms will grow in lines, the oldest dying off, leaving a leaving a stiff, brittle skeleton like a coral reef.

The fauna of Brenda is not very diverse. The main life form has resembles a goat, but much larger and more bad tempered than the Earth goat. Think caprine aurox. The goats eat pom-poms, and will use their horns to  cut sections off the living pom-pom to drag a safe distance away before consumption.

The indigenous species are humanoid. They have a complex but not sophisticated culture, which was probably nomadic until relatively recently. When the humans arrived and built towers and defences, the indigenous species created monoliths on top of which they pitched their traditional yurts. As time has gone on, the goat-leather yurt has been replaced by stone versions. Each family builds its own monolith, and they are usually linked by platforms well above goat height. Usually only one communal monolith provides access to the complex. 

Since there are no trees on Brenda, there is no wood. Some of the material of red pom-poms can be bundled and shaped into poles. These are quite strong in compression, so can be used to make relative serviceable spear shafts used for thrusting. They are weak if subject to relatively minor shear forces, and liable to break if struck. Brenda spears are good for fending off an angry goat, but axes, halberds and glaives are impractical. (Before anyone asks, A 6' long, 1" diameter pure copper spear would weigh about 18lb.)

The lack of wood on Brenda has also meant that bows are unknown. Missile weapons are confined to slings or darts. 

(https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54572558652_1f689310d1.jpg) Indigenous settlement.
(https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54573758015_8aba0c1071.jpg) Guards on watch as others move between monoliths.

Amazing Nobby.
Some technical points though. If Brenda doesn't have a molton core, she would not have a magnetic field to protect her atmosphere and little or no techtonic activity to bring metals to the surface.
That means there would be horrendous radiation problems from the nearest star, and no protection against solar flares. This would cause all sorts of mutation issues.
This may explain the need for the local populace to wear hoods, where do they harvest the raw materials for cloth from? Are there fiberous plants on Brenda? How do they spin the fabric?

Copper is also a trace element in universal cosmic abundence, so why is Brenda copper rich? Are these metals more valuable? Do humans bringing more elements in a point of contention for the locals?

And, yes, it's fantasy, so go you! Loe it!

Indeed, this is an enjoyable project to watch.

We know little of the atmosphere of Brenda which may be very dense and protective against stellar radiation.
Perhaps a massive star passed near the system as Brendan was being formed and contributed substantial amounts of copper to its surface and atmosphere (in the form of all sorts of copper complexes).

Enjoying following this project

Typical of an Ozzie to corrupt something ;)  ;D

QuoteAmazing Nobby.
Some technical points though. If Brenda doesn't have a molton core, she would not have a magnetic field to protect her atmosphere and little or no techtonic activity to bring metals to the surface.

Ah! You're forgetting the large quantities of water and copper sub-surface. You have the components to make a rotating electric field, which will, of course generate magnetism.  :-[

QuoteThis may explain the need for the local populace to wear hoods, where do they harvest the raw materials for cloth from? Are there fiberous plants on Brenda? How do they spin the fabric?

Pom-poms. Young pom-poms are quite pliable and can be crushed and the fibres woven into rough cloth - like  hessian. For this reason, they wear very simple cloth garments. They also use goat wool and goat leather. 

QuoteCopper is also a trace element in universal cosmic abundence, so why is Brenda copper rich? Are these metals more valuable? Do humans bringing more elements in a point of contention for the locals?

Brenda is like that unpopped corn kernel in your popcorn. Somehow it has been ejected from the process before it was fully done. There may be traces of other metals, and humans place great store on iron, thought they have mostly lost the arts of smelting and smithing. With no trees, there is no wood, nor coal, and pom-poms burn at too low a temperature for effective metal working. 

The escape pods from the Mind of Mankind were quickly scavaged and items from this source are highly valued. A great prize is a sword made from what is known as "whaite metal". 

QuoteWe know little of the atmosphere of Brenda which may be very dense and protective against stellar radiation. Perhaps a massive star passed near the system as Brendan was being formed and contributed substantial amounts of copper to its surface and atmosphere (in the form of all sorts of copper complexes).

Indeed. That is one theory. There has been little work done on this, as the humans on Brenda have been more focussed on not being stabbed by indigenous people, gored by oversized goats or slowly consumed by pom-poms.

QuoteTypical of an Ozzie to corrupt something ;)  ;D

In some ways it is a sad story. Kangaroo was on an exchange program and still cherished the old notion that Wales was an adjunct to England. He's forgotten the Cymric Revival, when Offa's Dyke had been reconstructed  from the West, and all sports bar Rugby Union were considered "too English". Kangaroo's crew spoke English only as a second or third language. Ironically, he was ejected from the program for a comment about sheep.



Just a recap. Brenda came about because a) my Traveller crew crash landed on a low tech planet b) I had a can of blue spray paint and c) I tasked myself with producing scenery for £10.

She has become something of a mental exercise. Deciding that the world was copper rich came from the blue paint available. The pom-poms were available at B&M, and slotting them onto florists' wire seems a handy way of keeping them together but able to be reshaped. I was just going to use them as a way of breaking up the table, but d_Guy put the notion of them being semi-sentient into my head.

I spent a lot of time looking through the Pendraken catalogue for suitable animals. I was going to use wolves, but they're carnivorous so would need to eat something lower down the food chain. Oversized goats seemed to best fit for an animal that could eat pom-poms and also be a bit dangerous.

The Indigenous People I conceived as being like the Star Wars Tusken Raiders (Sand People.)  Originally I made yurts out of the bottoms of soft drinks bottles, but added the monolith and walkways when I re-discovered my long forgotten and un-attended party. I think ground level yurts may make a reappearance.  :-\

Brenda is taking up a lot of my brain space. Milord Speedy brings up some good points. No trees, no wood, no coal - that means a very different society. If the indigenous people were semi-nomadic yurt-dwellers, the concept of a "door" may well have been quite novel to them.

Considering it was just meant to be a sojourn in my Traveller campaign, Brenda has become something of a major project, and I'm fine with that. :) Low level science fiction which may have a proportion of the population with raw and unscientific psi-powers is a valid interpretation of the genre. Think 2008's "Outlander", "Prey" (2022), 2011's abomination "Cowboys and Aliens" and (he said regretfully) "Avatar". (No, Brenda's the blue theme did not come from "Avatar".)

Thank you all for your kind and thought provoking comments.  :D               

Excellent, was just checking. No doubt scientists will be arguing over Brenda and how live evolved/survived for centuries to come.
If they're not absorbed by a pom-pom first.

Quote. . . No trees, no wood, no coal - that means a very different society . . .

But plenty of goats. Dried out goat poop would make a fuel for fire.

Quote from: Raider4 on 08 June 2025, 10:06:02 AMBut plenty of goats. Dried out goat poop would make a fuel for fire.

Goat dung burns at about 500- 800^oc. Copper melts at about 1085^oc. Good thought though.

I did have a rather unsettling thought. Iron is rare. Humans need iron. If you can't get it from pom-poms or goats ... the spectre of cannibalism is raised. 

Quote from: fsn on 08 June 2025, 10:53:54 AMGoat dung burns at about 500- 800^oc. Copper melts at about 1085^oc. Good thought though.

Ah! But who knows what temperatures can be reached with weird, alien, giant goat dung and dried pom-poms!

Quote from: Ithoriel on 08 June 2025, 11:16:52 AMAh! But who knows what temperatures can be reached with weird, alien, giant goat dung and dried pom-poms!

Me. I know.   :P

But thben you always weird and alien Nobby !!  :d  :d

Quote from: Lord Kermit of Birkenhead on 08 June 2025, 02:11:07 PMBut thben you always weird and alien Nobby !!  :d  :d

Awww! Thank you.  :-[

Goat poop charcoal?

In Jack Vance's "The Blue World" , humans have crash landed on a water world with chains of giant lily pad-like plants providing the only land surface area. With the ship lost they manage to contrive a large lens (I'll skip the details) which focuses sunlight to reduce things to ash. They discover by using their own blood they can reduce it to small amount of iron over many months.

In reality, there are some physiological problems with doing this but I always thought it a clever solution within the framework of the story.

Jack Vance was noted for conjuring weird worlds and the societies that populate them. fsn is continuing this long tradition. Well done, keep it up! It is great story telling.

A can of blue spray paint is, of course, just one theory :D

QuoteI did have a rather unsettling thought. Iron is rare. Humans need iron.

They also need sodium. Obtained through salt here. 

Oops - clicked reply on the wrong thread.

But on topic - I think that humans have so many minor elemental needs that any alien planet would likely lead to starvation. I think some hand wavium is needed, unless you really want to delve into biology.

Handwavium, a vital element in all fantasy settings.
As is Ah - the element of surprise.

QuoteAh - the element of surprise.

Very good 😄👍.


Must see if I can sneak that into a wikipedia page...

Quote from: fred. on 08 June 2025, 05:09:02 PMI think some hand wavium is needed, unless you really want to delve into biology.

By a strange coincidence, the Mind of Mankind was a repurposed handwavium carrier. It would have seeded Brenda  :-[  with handwavium as it broke up in the atmosphere.

QuoteBy a strange coincidence, the Mind of Mankind was a repurposed handwavium carrier. It would have seeded Brenda  (https://www.pendrakenforum.co.uk/Smileys/SoLoSMiLeYS1/embarrassed.gif)  with handwavium as it broke up in the atmosphere.

Ew!  X_X

Quote from: Raider4 on 08 June 2025, 06:25:42 PMVery good 😄👍.


Must see if I can sneak that into a wikipedia page...

Pratchett got it into a book! (Thief of Time)

Arturis lay under his cloak. He peered at the goats. Two of them. Small ones.  His human ancestors would not have recognised the description of "small goat". The beasts Arturis was studying stood chest high to the average man and weighed as much as two grown humans. These goats may have a similar appearance to Earth goats, but on closer inspection their horns were sharp blades along their entire length, not just pointed tips, and their faces were covered in a bony chanfron.  These features, as well as the thick blue woolly hide gave the goats some protection against the spikes and poison fronds of the pompoms.

They were bad tempered, nimble and well protected. The usual method in hunting was for one hunter to attract the goat, whilst a second hunter approached from the flank and aimed his spear at the goat's throat. It was a risky strategy, and several hunters bore scars because a slow or inaccurate companion missed his mark. Arturis himself bore a scar from elbow to shoulder where his companion had failed to bring down a charging goat. Arturis had stood his ground and aimed his spear at the small target of the goat's chest; the goat had impaled himself on the spear, but his slashing horns had torn Arturis' arms badly. Only the quick intervention of a healer had saved his arm and his life.

Arturis had been awarded a metal bone that year. The star watchers counted the days and every 394 days everyone was awarded a bone. For three years the bones were plain offcuts of goat bone – from the feet or the ears. On every fourth year of someone's life, the bone was dyed blue. Youngsters wore the bones as a fun ornament; oldsters wore the bone necklace to show their great age, but those of prime age kept the necklace off. The bones would clack together when hunting, or become tangled when doing other work. Special events warranted special bones. The year a female gave birth she was granted a bone with a stripe marked on it for each live baby. Arturis had been awarded a metal bone for his courage in bringing down the goat.

Arturis thought little of the practice. What mattered it how many bones a person collected so long as they could hold a spear or gather pompom or give birth or shape metal or any of the many tasks needed for survival. What really burned Arturis was that he had been born two days after year day. Villa, lying twitching two spear lengths from him,  had been born 2 days before year day. By count of bones, Arturis was 2 years older than Villa, but had been on the planet for nearly 4 years more.

Vila squirmed under his cloak. Probably worrying about goat-tics, but everyone knew that they avoided humans.  Villa was tall and strong, but had no patience for hunting. He was the son of a spice-maker, more at home with a pen than a spear. Arturis thought Vila would turn to scribing as soon as he could so he didn't have to lie quiet under a cloak – watching and waiting. 

The goats were slowly making their way between two converging lines of pompoms  towards the fountain which bled blue-water which got immediately sucked up by the ground.

Arturis reached out his mind. He didn't have the ability to speech without words, even close too, but he could detect the living.  At the extremity of his senses he found the rest of the hunting party. They were many hundreds, no thousands of paces away. There were goats there too. He could sense them, though they were more fuzzy than the humans. As he shifted his perception, he found the two goats he was hunting and ...

"Goat mothers!" He expostulated. Vila started prissily at the bad language.
"What?" He hissed.
"Ips. Four of them. Coming this way."


(https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54604985750_cc3fb3db6b.jpg)"Ips. Four of them."

The indigenous people, or ips  would be a problem. Not all of them would be hostile, but they would certainly want the goats for themselves. Arturis sighed and then got to his feet.
"Shall we see if we can scare them off?" Vila grinned ruefully. He was no coward, and knew that four ips would be difficult to convince to depart peacefully.

The ips were travelling in line. They had come from behind the line of pompoms and were trotting towards the fountain. They were encumbered with flasks and kegs, so were obviously collecting water.
 
Arturis set a bullet in his sling, and grasping his spear in his other hand, set off towards the ips. Vila left his spear, but drew his blade. Unlike the blade Arturis carried, Vila held an original white-metal sword. Some time, years ago, the  tip had broken off, and was now forked, but it was still a formidable and frightening weapon.

The ips saw the two humans advancing, and changed direction to approach the humans in line abreast.

(https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54604985790_c6b099052e.jpg) The ips advance

"They're not going to be scared off." Vila muttered through gritted teeth. The intentions of the ips became clear as the dropped their water containers ad let loose a ragged volley of stones. They'd misjudged the distance and none of the missiles came close. Vila let out a snort and quickend his pace, waving his white metal sword.
Arturis paused, and whirled the sling over his head, aiming at the ip leader. The metal bullet flew true and the ip leader was struck on the head and went down.

Bellowing with rage, two of the ip charged at Vila, the remaining one adjusting his charge towards Arturis.

Vila laughed maniacally and waved his blade at the two ip. This blunted their enthusiasm for the charge long enough for Vila to sink his blade into one of them. The second ip, recovering from his awe of the white metal, and perhaps desiring it, lunged with his spear and too Vila in the side.

(https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54603803767_78c9931934.jpg)Arturis is charged as Vila is wounded.

Meanwhile, Arturis had side stepped the lunge of his opponent, and let the ip run onto his spear. The ip's falling body tore the spear form Arturis' hand, and he heard the familiar crack of the shaft breaking. 

He reached for his blade and turned in time to see Vila fall. With a snarl, Arturis leaped at the remaining ip, and dashed the hilt into the ip's temple. The ip fell unconscious.

Arturis knelt by Vila. Vila was still alive, blood seeping from his side. Arturis glanced around to check that the ips posed no danger, and turned his mind inward. He laid his hand on Vila's wound and focused on it closing. He was not the healer that the elders were, but he could do enough to keep Vila alive until they returned home.

Vila opened his eyes. He tentatively probed at his wound and found it closed, though still bruised and painful. He winced, sitting up and looking around.

"Do we try and get one of the goats?" He asked.
"No. I've broken my spear and I think they're aware we're here."
"Let's go home then." 
"Let's"

Vila painfully got to his feet, making sure he returned his sword to the scabbard. The two humans turned to home.



A deliberately small skirmish to try out my "Traveller on a low tech planet where psionics are common but undeveloped" rules.

Pondering the incident did make me think about things like the measurement of time. Brenda has almost no axial tilt, so no seasons. With no seasons, no religion and no agriculture, the measurement of time had become less important. As survival was hard, age and sex mattered less than capability and intent. 

I'm reasonably happy with the rules. Arturis and Vila were both very strong, and capable with their weapons. Arturis also measured above average in dexterity and endurance, making him an ideal hunter; whereas Vila was both educated and of high social status. Despite that, and the advantage of the white-metal sword, they despatched the ips very easily. This make me think that I have made ips a bit fragile, though bot humans did throw exceptionally well.

The skirmish took about 15 minutes to play out. I probably need to develop a goat reaction table.  :-\     

Superb narrative Nobby, well written
Goat Reaction Table - great name for a band

Brilliant, Nobby !!

Nice one, Will ! ;D  ;D  ;D

Brenda's "goats" are GOAT. Your narrative does honour to our hobby.  :-bd

OK, I think the goats have got big enough. (https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54646024796_c46590c19b.jpg)

I hear those are only the older juveniles, wait until an actual adult appears...

They look as if they a contemplating a meal.

Those ARE big goats ! :-SS  X_X

Life on Brenda is hard. There is a lack of diversity in foodstuffs - it's either pompom or goat. Agriculture of pompoms has been tried, but constant proximity of animals (including humans) increases the likelihood of pompoms developing toxic and aggressive tendencies. Goat herding was tried but the goats died if confined, or got killed by the pompom hedges designed to contain them.

Humans tend to breed, and so every now and again, a community will outgrow its resources, and so will need to spawn a daughter community. Usually, two or three communities will contribute to make a stronger expedition, and also to make sure gene pools don't get shallow.

This is a time for the goat sensitives. These people can form a mental bond with goats, can calm them and get the goats to do their bidding. The goat sensitives must maintain the bond or the animals will  come to their senses and that never goes well for those around them. The goat sensitives must maintain the contact, it's a bit like trying to count in your head whilst doing everyday things. Most goat sensitives have trained long enough to do this, but if they are distracted, say by being poked by an ip spear, they lose their concentration and the goats break free.

The goat sensitives go out and bring back a pair of goats. These can be hitched to carts to transport essentials for the new community. The ghost sensitive walks alongside the cart, hands holding the quick release so that if the goats do go rogue, they will not drag away their precious cargo. The goat sensitives will not allow goats they have bonded with to be killed. When their service is no longer required, the goat sensitives will walk them away, and then release them back to the wild. 

Arturis has joined the expedition from his community. He yearns for adventure, and hopes that he may meet Maye from the neighbouring village and maybe start a family.

The expedition comprises six carts. Four hold tools and artifacts, and household good for the new community. Two coaches are given over to the more precious water purifiers, writings and scientific equipment. These carts will be stripped down to use as building materials at the new site.

Each cart has a goat sensitive, whilst three more trail behind to take over should one become over tired or one of the goats needs some extra calming.

The rest of the colonists stand to the flanks of the column, to protect the precious cargoes, and also so that they do not inadvertently disturb the goat sensitives. 
     
   
(https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54649991225_3a25bffdd4.jpg)
Arturis (2nd from left at the bottom) watches as the scout returns with news. Since this is Brenda, it's not going to be good news.

Dumdumdum! And other ominous noises.

 =D>

Nobby, that's just beautiful.  You're a man after my own heart  :x

If there isn't either a concept album - with Roger Dean cover - and/or a Moorcock-esque, psychedelic novel in this somewhere, I don't know what the world is coming to...  8->

Quote from: O Dinas Powys on 14 July 2025, 10:23:33 AM=D>

Nobby, that's just beautiful.  You're a man after my own heart  :x

If there isn't either a concept album - with Roger Dean cover - and/or a Moorcock-esque, psychedelic novel in this somewhere, I don't know what the world is coming to...  8->

:-[   Thank you.

Quote=D>

Nobby, that's just beautiful.  You're a man after my own heart  :x

If there isn't either a concept album - with Roger Dean cover - and/or a Moorcock-esque, psychedelic novel in this somewhere, I don't know what the world is coming to...  8->

How about the Dave Greenslade/Patrick Woodruffe collaboration, 'The Pentateuche of the Cosmogony' album ?
I must listen to that again.....Maybe.

Quote from: fsn on 12 July 2025, 03:36:51 PMArturis (2nd from left at the bottom) watches as the scout returns with news. Since this is Brenda, it's not going to be good news.

Arturis glanced nervously around him as he strained to hear what the scout was saying.

"We're there," said the scout, "just around the next cluster of pompoms."



Nobody was listening. Behind the scout something very large was falling across the sky.

Ominous hummmmm

Oh no!
(https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/0/01/Mr._Stay-Puft_Marshmallow_Man.png)

I was thinking more ...

QuoteOh no!
(https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/0/01/Mr._Stay-Puft_Marshmallow_Man.png)

"I couldn't help it, it just popped in there"  ;D

Quote from: Techno 3 on 15 July 2025, 02:34:58 PMHow about the Dave Greenslade/Patrick Woodruffe collaboration, 'The Pentateuche of the Cosmogony' album ?
I must listen to that again.....Maybe.

Unfortunately, it's not on Spotify, so I couldn't experience it :(

However I listened to some Pentateuche-adjacent material to get the vibe  @-)

Quote from: Ithoriel on 22 July 2025, 02:07:10 AMI was thinking more ...

Let's not rule out the one of elder ones or Cthulhu him/her/it self.

QuoteUnfortunately, it's not on Spotify, so I couldn't experience it :(

However I listened to some Pentateuche-adjacent material to get the vibe  @-)

A short time ago ...

It awoke. Or rather a few more processes came online. Something had changed; something had happened. It awoke, and stretched. Or rather, it sent interrogatory pulses to its siblings. So few responded. Once there were thousands, now there were but hundreds. Time had taken its toll, and some of those who did respond were so worn down with age as to be useless, but there were enough. There had to be enough.

It moved, slowly, oh so slowly. Partly this was long unused systems slowly coming on line, but partly it was hunting. It knew its siblings were likewise stalking their prey. A few slightly faster so they would spread out into waves of attackers.

It was excited. Or rather its systems were fully engaged. Call it a bomb, a torpedo or a mine, its purpose was to attack and destroy intruders. Possibly it felt satisfaction as it detonated in the engine faring of its target.


On board the Warspite, Alex was at the helm. He was a distinguished and scholarly man, well past middle age. In previous times he would have been called a gentleman. He had spent his life flying merchant ships until the black day that destroyed his ship, killed his family, and he had been rescued by the Warspite.

The first mine exploded in the engine faring, quickly followed by several others. Alex looked at the threat screen in horror as the number of yellow dots appeared in seemingly never ending waves.

The point defence lasers flared along the length of the Warspite.  Artemis, one of the ship's AI systems controlled the fire, selecting the most dangerous mines to target first. Even Warspite's magnificent defences were insufficient to fend off the hundreds of speeding, darting mines. Alex felt the explosions ... one ... two ... four ... too many. 

The bridge door opened and York walked in. He appeared to be calm and unrushed. He raised an eyebrow at Alex.

"We're in a minefield. The first wave hit us quite hard, but the defences are mostly coping with the rest." He looked apologetically at York as another mine exploded somewhere.  "Jump drive is down, manoeuvre is partly there."

"Options?" York asked.

Alex blew out a long breath.

"Damned few." He glanced at the threat screen. There were far fewer of the yellow dots now, their number decreasing steadily.

"Crew check." York spoke to the air.

"Janine; in the infirmary." Janine had been a hospital doctor and surgeon for many years before giving it up to become a merchant fleet medic. She had been taken aboard Warspite as the only survivor of Alex's ship. They had bonded over their loss, and eventually took to midnight flits to each others cabins. When the moved to the same cabin nobody was surprised, but it was not spoken of. Janine was a very capable doctor, whose caring nature was hidden underneath a waspish carapace.

"I have Smita and Alison here," Janine added. "and before you ask they're fine. That first bump knocked Smita over and she's got a cut to the head. A minor cut. " York smiled.  Smita was also a doctor; a young and idealistic one. Her parents had worried when she had announced her intention to visit far off worlds and had hired army veteran Alison as bodyguard, confidante and chaperone. Smita was quite capable of dealing with a minor cut on her head, but Alison would have rushed her to the infirmary anyway. 

"Rowan, Alder – OK". Rowan and Alder were twins who had boarded Warspite at the same time as 
York.  Army brats, they were destined to be professional soldiers from the cradle. They had few skills in spacecraft operations, but would be geared up and ready to land a hand where they could. 

"Quillam and Sean; We're fine. " Quillam was a long serving navy Petty Officer who functioned as the Warspite's engineer. Sean who was the antithesis of the engineer. Whereas Marine Sean was tall, rangy, and young, Quillam was short, barrel chested had a wealth of experience hidden under the equipment vest he always wore.

"You should see the engine room." growled Quillam.
"I believe I saw several parts of it float by on the port side." Alex didn't even look up from his pilot's console.   

York ticked the crew off in his head. There was one missing.
"Lydia. Where are you?" Lydia had been York's co-pilot before they had boarded the Warspite, and they had spent a lot of time together on a 2 person scout ship. Lydia knew York better than anyone else, better than York. Despite occasional her air-head persona, she was keenly intelligent and competent in a number of areas,
"Sorry Darling. I was in the bath."
"We don't have a bath."
"Oh." There was a pause.
"Just come to the bridge when you're ready."
"Will do, Darling." York could swear he heard water sloshing about. "In the meantime, I've sent you a present."  One of the screens on the bridge now displayed an image of a small device. Lydia must have captured it from the Warspite's sensors. 

"We don't have a bath." York said to no-one in particular.   
"We also don't have a lot of fuel. That last explosion ruptured the main tanks, and we're venting." Alex responded.
"Our bad luck or their good targetting?" 
Alex gave an elegant shrug. "Immaterial, either way we're going to land on that planet. The questions are when and how hard. We can maintain for a few orbits, but that will just give us a chance to pick where we're going to end up."

"Go to a red zone planet, he said, it'll be fun he said." Lydia had appeared on the bridge as if by magic – hair wrapped in a towel.
"We don't have a bath." Said York.
"We do have some very old mines though." Lydia began to dry her long black hair with the towel. She nodded at the screen. "There's a lot of them out there, mostly inert – or maybe just dormant. They're Imperium tech, but not standard. Modified. Small and sneaky, but fortunately not individually that powerful."
"...but en masse, in waves" York continued
"... very dangerous. The point is they have been floating around this planet for hundreds of years.  Just left here, presumably to enforce the red zone." 

Lydia nodded to Alex.
"Hi Alex. Are we going to crash?" The pilot smiled thinly.
"Not crash exactly.  We will make something of a forced landing though."
 "Crash – forced landing; potato – horrible death." Lydia combed her fingers through her fair, tutting in mild annoyance as she'd hadn't got a hairbrush.


On the surface, Arturis watched the Warspite fall across the sky, trailing a tail of burning fuel and debris.

His people had come from the sky, he knew. There were those who watched the sky, but they had largely forgotten why. He was confused. Was this a good thing; or did it presage ill fortune? He shrugged his shoulders as the Warspite flew over the horizon. It was gone, and so it no longer mattered. He felt guilty that his attention had been so distracted. He scanned the area, looking for threats, the Warspite forgotten.   

Nice  8)

Entertaining read as always.

To help me properly visualize, other than the towel around her head was Lydia wearing anything else?

She knows where her bath towel is, there's nothing else she needs...

Sounds like a real hoopy frood.

Quote from: Duke Speedy of Leighton on 27 July 2025, 03:39:31 PMShe knows where her bath towel is, there's nothing else she needs...

An important point.

With the flaming Warspite forgotten, the expedition pressed on and within a few hours had reached the base of the monolith that was to be their new home.

Monoliths dotted the surface of Brenda. They were extrusions of rock that seemed to have been forced from the ground like toothpaste through a tube. Humans had discovered their interior was not solid, being riffle with cavities like a Swiss cheese. By burrowing into these monoliths, humans found a reasonably quick way to create living reasonably spaces safe from IPs, goats and pompoms.

One of the carts contained a chest in which lay a great treasure – chisels and hammers made from white metal. These could be used to quickly cut through the monolith, hollowing out living spaces for the community. 

What would this new community be called? The use of place names was a largely forgotten art on Brenda. It was said, by those who cared, that there was a place called "Three". The theory was it was the third place inhabited, but there was no signs of "One" or "Two" and, Arturis was born in a place that had been known as "Gunterstown" though no-one knew or had ever known someone called Gunter.

In other cultures, there would perhaps have been a ceremony or celebration to commemorate the new project, but these were humans on Brenda. One of the carriages was drawn up and a pair of men climbed on the roof and began hacking away a doorway with the white metal tools. Meanwhile, the goats were led away to be thanked and released.

Those not engaged in these activities formed a loose perimeter, for this was the most dangerous time. They were now immobile and making enough noise to attract ips.

(https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/54684722019_b0c133a6c3.jpg)

By nightfall, those working on the doorway had not yet discovered a hollow, and had cut a disappointingly small way into the monolith.  Tired and disappointed the expedition camped behind the makeshift barricade made of the carts and carriages. Sentries were posted and they settled down for the night,


Arturius awoke. It was still dark, or as dark as it ever got on Brenda. He lay still, trying to decipher  what had woken him. He heard nothing. Slowly turning his head, he could not see anything but the sleeping bodies of his companions. He reached out with his mind and there, some distance away was something strange.  He rose, reaching for his spear.  Others woke and rose, silent, without questions, but grasping their weapons.

Damon ghosted up to stand by Arturius.
"You feel them?" he asked.
Damon's face twisted in concentration, then he nodded. 
"What?" Balinda had moved to join them.  She was elected leader of the expedition. Arturius pointed into the darkness.
"Two creatures – not human, not ip, not goat. There."

Balinda peered into the night. 
"They have gone!" said Damon.
"Good" said Balinda, turning to leave. Arturius stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"Not moved away. Gone. Just not there anymore." Balinda grunted.
"Then they are gone. I will warn the sentries."
"I will stay and keep watch." Offered Damon. Balinda nodded, and stomped off.

Arturius went back to bed.

Quote

(https://media.tenor.com/h-ixh8KrE1wAAAAM/nice.gif)