Ah heck, I dropped in to dust off the bar top and put some fresh milk in the cooler for Joe. :s513:
Who is the brigand that drank my whiskey? :girl_werewolf:
I always have trouble keeping a bottle of sipping whiskey, handy.
Look at this beauty, they over looked the single malt. Ha Ha. Now get a clean glass, roll a smoke and a cool stein. This is liven, good. Good sipping with a gentle wash. :drinks:
That was good, time to clean up the old tavern for tomorrow. Need to get a few more kegs, I see. Got fresh milk for Joe, need to get more coffee, plenty of tea left. Maybe I'll bring a sack of cookies, the next.
Better put my beauty away for the night.
As for playing online, the lack of spare coin keeps the old Gummy poking on the keyboard making up tall tales and playing, single play. I do check out what the retired ladder players have equipped. :)
My new stash takes over five minutes to load. Plenty of time to get a cup of coffee and roll a smoke. The beer is kept handy, by my chair. :nyam:
Now I'll post this and see what other tales I can come up with. Bye! :diablo:
Post Merge: January 11, 2010, 04:15:24 am
New World 154by
William Robert Smith
This start of a short story is for your reading pleasure, here, not to be copied or reproduced.
This is my original work and should be considered as copyright protected.
I have a large knobby club that says itis!
Enjoy reading. 01/10/10wrs
04/18/09 02:21:33 PM
Nothing grew in the torrid wet heat of New World 154! Then the second major phase of its terraforming began. The terraforming team of twenty were the first to set foot on NW154 since the first evaluation teams. Their task was to make NW154 at least a Class B world.
I was following the sweat soaked shorts of Zibbie Darlene, up the steep path, to the higher ground. That is me, John Darlene, expert terraformer, lusting after, focusing on Zib's sweat soaked shorts,below her bulging back pack, on the steep trail. We're just moving base camp up higher, away from the growing flood plain, by the creek.Just two of the twenty expert terraformer field agents, trying to save the base camp supplies. “Quit watching, my ass, John.”“Right!”
It really started when the powers to be, decided that NW154, Class D-minus Planet was too much of a rich prize, to terraform the old fashioned way. They used neutron deployment to kill off the animal life and anew, self terminating, herbicide to kill off the plant life. All ofthat was to kill off all forms of live on the planet. “Yep, that was suppose to do it!”
Airborne seeding of plants and microbes started two years latter, changingNW154 from a lifeless globe to a born again planet. Certain insect types were then spread for pollination of the plants. The normal cycles of seeding new life forms were followed for the next twenty years, all monitored from orbit. Field work was then started to fine tune the planet's change of class, which put us the first terraform team on the ground.
“John, keep up.” “Yes Zibbie. You need to rest?” “No!”
Twenty of us were put down on this coastal plain, at the start of the dry season,which was all right, then. “Man, her sweat covered, tanned,muscular legs look good.” “John, quit day dreaming.” We were to monitor the adaptation of the life forms seeded. Everything seemed to be going good, we only had a few minor equipment failures. The tests proved that the fish and land animals were fine to consume and tasty.
The predators were keeping the life forms in balance. The upland forests were maturing into a fine resource. All seemed to be going fine on NW154.The original plant forms had decayed back into the soil, allowing the new plants to control erosion and feed off the decaying plant matter.
That left us,six months latter, with most of our powered equipment now non functioning at the start of the wet season. Humidity and heat, were off the scale. Daily rains made the original base camp a swamp with insect pests. Something was eating most of the synthetic parts of our gear, only natural parts seemed to be immune to the bug. We're now quarantined till we can find the cause and fix the problem. Nothing that touches down would be allowed to leave. Low and high orbital drops were planned to resupply us.
“Okay John, lets rest for five.” “Great! Let me help with your pack.” “Just taking five, frisky!” “Yes, Zibbie. Ah, Zib your right boot is falling apart.”
“Damn! Damn! The stitching, is failing.”
“Drop your pack and lets get them off.”
“No! You undo the laces and carry them.”
“Your no fun any more.”
“Latter to night, I promises.”
“Just watch where you step.”
The new base camp was where the large eight place lifter failed. It was gutted nowand cleaned up. Peg helps us with the packs. Zib's boots were put with the others. Peg carefully checks the E-rat rations we packed. A poke has me looking for more fire wood.
Out past the graves, I trot, before the rains start again. My feet leave muddy bare foot prints, behind. “Ah, a few of us died when the four place speedster crashed, last month. It was the last of the working transports.” I get my thoughts back to gathering fire wood.
“Peg, whats to eat?”
“Stewed E-rats, what else!”
I put the wood next to the fire as Peg stirs the stew in the salvaged drive cover.Peg dishes out the food and weak tea. Zib gets me to eat, I was watching Peg again. Sally had cut out the last of the festering inhibitors from the girls. Bix was bitching again, trying to scratch under the mud and plaster cast, on his leg.
“Do I have to tie up your hands, Bix.” Sally warns him again.
It starts to rain again. We carry Bix back into the lifter shell. Sally checks the cast. “Try to sleep Bix.”
“Light enough to drag in a few more logs.”
With ax and rope, we went to the cut trees for a shelter. The last of the branches were trimmed off and we started to drag the next log back to camp. We all cursed the mud as we slipped and slide along. Thou logs did slide better on the mud. Us males managed to drag back two logs before dark and the nightly thunder storm.
The girls had the haunch of a Trihorn grazer, roasting on the spit. Trihorns were an unplanned mutation that was good to eat. It has three horns as the name suggests. Sally supervised the roasting. She would only let us have well done meat. Sally was the only medical doctor we had, now. Patrick, died when the speedster crashed.
It was after dark when Sally let us have some of the roasted meat. Zibbie and I stayed up to tend the fire and the last of the haunch. Zib also managed to take care of my ragging hormones, too. She almost crushed me at the end. She chased me out into the rain to wash of the mud. It was fun squeegeeing the mud off her, my hands just loved the feel of her body.
A few hard pokes had me back by the fire to dry. We took turns nodding off, to keep a low fire under the last of the haunch. It would be done, come morning.
After eating,Peg lead off back to the base camp, packs empty, water bottles full.Peg's skirt of wool blanket didn't cover much and had me panting along after her. It barely covered the cheeks of her ass.
Zibbie had stayed behind to make crude sandals out of the soles of her boots.Roger and Charley had gone off hunting again, being the best with thebows that we made. Maribeth or Beth for short, was right behind me with a heavy walking stick. She had her orders to keep me well behaved.
Peg and Beth were barely showing, Sally was at least six weeks pregnant. Zibbie hadn't caught, same as Gail and Janet. “Yep the women out numbered us males and ruled us with a firm fist. They had too!” A poke of the stick had me watching where I was stepping. We arrived back at the old base camp by mid morning.
Now it was sort out what we could pack and protect what else we could salvage latter. The water in the creek was higher now. We tied off water proof metal cases to the bigger trees before we left, packs full of canned goods, most of the labels were washed off. I followed Peg up the trail.
It was too much, the view that is, I took the walking stick away from Beth and had Peg's pack off, skirt pushed out of the way. Beth knocked me out with a can of beans. I found that out latter after I woke up. Peg's tits were staring at me when I woke up as Beth topped me off with five fingers.
We were all muddy when we started off again. Peg now had a heavy club. They followed me, now with a poke to keep me moving. I was their beast of burden, now. Sweat washed off most of the mud as we climbed to thetop of the trail. “Keep moving John!” We only stopped when we got to the camp.
Zibbie helped with the packs, noticing the new bruises on Peg and Beth. Her hard fists took my wind and gave me a sore jaw. Peg stopped her from hitting me. Beth pushed me out into the soft rain to wash off.
“Fire wood!”Was the next command. Off for wood I went, nursing a sore jaw. Four heavy loads latter, I was allowed rest.
04/19/09 04:22:51 PM
Gail and Janet were forming arrow shafts, I was allowed to knock stone points, had to conserve the ammo for the simple weapons that still worked.
The last ofthe team came back from clearing the Big Cross in the woods. The cross was the mark for orbital drops of supplies. It also showed that some of the team were still alive. Old Max, the last of the three survivalist, went back to his crude crystal transmitter. He had Peg crank the magneto, for power. He worked the spark gap for fifteen or so minutes. Old Max was not sure he remembered the Morse Code correctly, it had been a hobby when he was a youngster.
“Time to eat John, quit day dreaming.”
Ten days have past. The old base camp was salvaged mess of decaying synthetics.Everything else had been lugged up to the new camp. The light metal cases had been the hardest to move.
Peg had made cloth masks for the men, coated with a scent of evergreen, this helped us from falling prey to our male hormones. Old Max just dabbed some on his mustache. Facial hair would soon be the norm as the depilatory treatments ended. No more evergreen scented bandits chasing the females.
07/14/09 10:01:58 PM
Sally told us all of the girls were pregnant now. She waved a stick at us males to keep us focused on the words of warning. “With next to no medical supplies I'll have to deliver them. Which one of you will help with mine?” She asked.
“Now Sally don't be so mad!” Peg tells her.
“Quite! I'm in charge of keeping you healthy.” Sally stops to wipe away some tears.
The girls take Sally away to calm down, end of medical lecture.
The next two years were a nightmare. The only good thing was none of the women died in child birth. Just try to imagine how hard it is to burn wet wood, let alone start a fire with wet wood. Two fires had to be kept smoldering under crude split wood shelters, lest one or both would go out.
The one way supply drops had to be made from space not low or high orbit. The synthetic eating bug was present at the top of the atmosphere. Only remote controlled drop vehicles nearly free of synthetics had a chance of hitting our drop zone. One nearly landed in the camp, digging a hole in one of our meager fields.
Growing food was an unending battle with the rain and mold. No root vegetables lasted to maturity or could be stored long. Onions and such grew quickly and had to be pulled young. Beans grew well year around but could not be dried for storage. They would sprout several weeks after they were harvested. Sprouts were part of nearly every meal. Grains grew with large heads of seeds that mostly dropped from the stalk when touched. Fire dried grain was all that we had, boiled into a gruel.
The last of the inert synthetics turned to mush, boot soles, belts, etc, six months after we moved base camp. Metals and natural items were resistant to the bug. Metal rusted, while the cotton and wool fabric rotted, growing moldy.
The supply drops kept us alive, the first two years, as we slowly adjusted to the new wet conditions of the planet. By middle of the third year,medical supplies designed for the planet conditions were dropped to us. Sally then was able to clear up most of the wet condition infections and trench foot. Sally was able to rest more and keep more of the children alive past the first year.
The addition of four medical and scientific volunteers, to our growing population, helped us adapt, change, our way of life. Wet tropical foods expanded our diet, for the better. Our over all heath improved. Less time was spent just surviving, letting us construct better shelters from the nearly continuous rain. The two dry seasons lasted but a few weeks.
Better bows and the fact that trihorns like to graze in the fields, let us have a good supply of meat. E-rat were only used as a diet supplement now.Raw wool garments were now the rule. The natural oils kept the wool nearly water resistant and mold free, longer. A few sheep were dropped and did poorly in all the wet, at first. Third generation lambs did well, growing to be good wool producers and tough when eaten.
Wet weather tanning and curing of hides, was a chalenge, improving our shelters into homes. Flattened light metal supply cases made a good, if noisy roof. Communication improved when several comm sets survived the drop and exposure to the synthetic bug.
“John your turn to get more fire wood.”
“Yes Zibbie. Are you coming?”
“Since you asked, no!”
“Ah Zib, I'll pull the sled."
“And I'll have my club.”
A day of collecting fire wood, lead to a safe romp with Zibbie. We only had to stop twice to care for the kids. The children now out numbered the adults two to one. The oldest were just six years old. Bix's limp was now a thing of the past.
Fifty Years Latter
The base camp has been moved three times to get away from the raising water. This part of the continent was sinking. The last move was made with two shuttles and a handful of speedsters, made for our world. These new designs would be used on other worlds being terraformed. Our world was credited with a royalty for each one manufactured / built.
The synthetic eating bug was dying out, ah starving it seems. At least that is what Holdemson has told us. A positive cure for the problem was still years away. A high orbital quarantine station now let some of us off planet. Mostly children that had to be removed from the wet. Not all of the children were able to adapt to the wet weather.
The medics now were able to control the fertility of the women without inhibitors. They no longer became pregnant after one or two sexual encounters. More free time lead again to better living conditions. Our homes were now fired brick and stone with wide over hanging metal roofs. Most of the yards and courts had some form of roof to protect us from the rains. The maturing hardwood forests have finely slowed the rains and let the dry seasons become longer.
Twelve new volunteers arrived today. One commented on our darker complexions. Peg looked at the light skinned volunteer, shocked at the comment. Sally just undid her skirt belt revealing her lighter skin, protected by her wool skirt.
“Hope you don't burn. The sun puts out plenty of UV rays so stay covered up as much as you can.” Sally warns the new comers.
“Why wasn't this reported?” One asked.
“Had no time or realized that it had happened. You can report it now.” Peg tells the new comers.
“You will have to adapt like you were trained to the conditions here.” Zibbie continues to tell them of some changes to the training they had received.
“At least you will be able to leave.” Bix comments sharply. He was not able to pass through the quarantine on the orbital station and had to return to the surface.
“You hope!”Peg adds.
That sobered up the new volunteers. They started to reread the list changes to the training.
“You'll have time to study the changes latter. The medics need to check you out now.” Sally tells them.
The dozen were on the planet to set up a separate research station. A few of us were assigned to baby sit them for the first six months. Zibbie would not let me loose amongst the females of the group. Her polished club was once again hanging on her belt. She reaped her strict attitude during the following nights. I did like having extra romps with her.
07/14/09 Bed 11:47:30 PM
Okay you whiskey thieves, brigands, the above is the start of a short tale that you may read while you look for the single malt.
Ah,Joe, left you a pitcher of home made eggnog in the cooler. You best drink some before the others get to it.
Just remember this is for you to read and enjoy on the forum, in the tavern. It is not fair if you file off the serial numbers and claim the story as your own. I just hope someone will be interested enough to want to publish my ramblings. Yes, I know they need to be polished before they can be published.
I never did pass English Literature 101! :)
William Robert Smith
The Generalist
Old Gummy
bdpf
:wece:
:girl_wacko: :drinks: :comando:
NEWS IS WHERE YOU FIND IT OR WHAT YOU MAKE UP! (Modern new truth of facts!)
:girl_werewolf:
News flash: Tavern ofGeglash is damaged by brigands! More at ten.
This is your 10 o'clockNews
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News Flash: News castergoes missing!
Moreon the Morning News.
Your Morning News
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Youngnews caster still missing, while covering reports of damage to theTavern of Geglash!
Couldbe the start of something!
This Day on the News.
Peace Keepers report.
Youngnews caster still missing. The search broadens as fears increase forhis safety.
A door to door search hasbeen started.
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Young News Caster Found!
Fullreport at ten.
Clipfrom 10 o'clock News.
Tavern of Geglash Damaged
01/13/10 12:49:38 PM
by
William Robert Smith
Himself, Old Gummy & many others, declare this isa copyrighted work.
“By Thor's Hammer! I declare this to becopyrighted.” Himself proclaims.
“My knobby club, puts it's seal on this work offiction.” Mumbles Old Gummy.
“Who you want stuck?” An eager great, great,great, Granddaughter asks.
“Not yet! Maybe latter and I'm not your Gramps.”
“So what are you gentlemen doing here?” A nosy news casterasks, smiles at the vid recorder.
“Go away!” A gray haired man says as he helps remove the brokein door.
“Would you please say a few words.”
“Less talk, more work! Here hold this.” The broken door isshoved into his hands.
A large hammer, strikes and trues up the door framing. The benthinges had been tossed aside. “Dam those brigands!” Was a softlymumbled curse heard by the news caster.
“Did brigands break in?” He cheerfully asks.
“Hold thedoor steady, have to peg the side rail.” A brace and bit bites intothe wood. Old Gummy blows out the bored holes and dribbles smellyglue into the holes. An other, uses a large hammer to tap, whittledpegs home. A shinny blade, trims the pegs flush. “Don't cut theyoung fella.” The Old One warns.
The tavern door is worked on and made stronger. A small crowdwatches. Idle hands are put to work, helping clean up the damage andmess. A chain mailed, tall drink of water, brings a heavy bullockhide. The thick hide is measured against the door and cut to fit. Abox speedster arrives, saw horses are arranged so the door could befinished.
The work continues, as smelly glue, perfumes the air. Others workjust inside the doorway. Hardly a word is spoken. Old hand tools areused by old callused hands. The door is reenforced by the bullockhide and now has a continuous hide hinge. Hands and wedges hold thedoor in place, while the hinge is fastened to the door frame. A heavyhardwood, ripped plank is pegged to the frame and rough doorwayframing. A cleaver counter weight and pulley, keeps the door fromsagging.
The lock is soon replaced and the lock side of frame is treatedlike the hinge side. The new lock will keep honest people out andtake care of the dishonest. They gnaw on a pair of fresh bones. Alarge black cat, wanders by looking for a snack. A smoked fish isdaintily carried to a dim corner.
“They'll work good at keeping the tavern safe now.” Himselfrumbles.
“And only cost scrapes.” Adds the red, gray haired woman.
“Whats for lunch?”
“What ever is thrown at you.”
“Ya touchy, again?”
“What ever you think, with you being gone for years.”
“This is not the place for this. Let me draw you a beer.”
“Is there any beer left? I'll make some coffee.”
“Gummy the beer is gone!” Is shout by a red bearded dwarf.
“Did you check the cellar?”
“Empty and bare.” Answers a woman with a long bow.
A comm call was made as the heavy window was replaced. A stream ofleather clad people carry things into the tavern. Coffee, tea, andcool milk are put out on the cleaned off bar top. A spit creaks inthe large fire place hearth. The large elk hunch scents the air as itroasts. An old granny brushes a sauce on the hunch. A stepped on cupof mint tea can be scented by those if who care to sniff the air.
The back bar is picked up and cleaned. A beauty of a bottle isfound and Old Gummy sips for a tick. Broken chairs and tables werebeing repaired or disposed of. A few new knockdown tables and newchair parts were brought in. Nimble hands were putting the piecestogether, with glue and pegs. The news caster sips coffee with asticky hand. The old granny is chatting him up after touching up hiscoffee. She will probably have a warmer bed that night.
The work soon ends as the sun slips below the horizon. All whohave helped repair the tavern enjoy the indoor cookout. A freshsupply of prime beers is consumed. A second delivery was expected,shortly. Fresh fruit juices and cookies were for the young children,along with milk. Babies cried and were changed while others danced tothe music. The large elk hunch was now gone, the bones given to thedoor lock.
The party died as the torches grew dim. Old Gummy showed he stillnew how to us a swab. Tables and floor were now clean, ready for themorning. Two girls had the bar ready too. The fire was banked withthe fire screen in place. The door swings closed as the last personleaves. The black cat stretches in the dim corner and makes a circuitof the tavern. The elk bones are crunched by the two Snow Rock hybridwolfs.
The Snow Rock Wolf Security sign, glows on the doorof Tavern of Geglash,
in a city, some where out there, where like mindsplay.
The black cat snarls and bats a large rodent into thewall.
The nightly news cast failed to have news concerningthe Tavern of Geglash.
A bed was warmer that night, week, month, year.
Latter a book is written.
More patrons would enjoy tall tales oversipped beer and snacks. Coffee and tea could be had from the kitchen,along with cool milk and cookies. (Have to keep Old Joe happy.) Mealswere as catch can, depending what ya brought. Music and dancing wasprovided by those willing to play and dance. The Tavern of Geglashwas now a good place to gossip and listen to tall tales. Storytellers were always welcome and tended to drink for free, if thestories were good.
Come and spin a good tale for us. Allare welcome. Have one on Old Joe.
He keeps a good cellar. Just mind howyou pet the lock. Ha! Ha!
Be sure to count your fingers!