[net.games.frp] Marlowe Toxin - Installment #1

twiss@stolaf.UUCP (Thomas S. Twiss) (04/20/84)

                    The Adventures of Captain Marlowe Toxin



  Installment #1:  Fate Is a Four-Letter Word.





       Marlowe Toxin was a great sailor.  His whole life he had spent on
  board ships.  Now, at thirty-one years of age, he was the captain of his
  own ship, and a fine ship it was.  He had been given the ship as a reward
  for having killed Captain Black, the pirate leader who'd caused the free
  traders nothing but trouble for as long as Marlowe could remember.  In his
  mind, Marlowe once again pictured the night he'd chased the infamous pirate
  across Pire's Reef; Marlowe had sailed Sea Hawk, the fastest ship on the
  seas except for Black's ship, Dark Shark, which might have eluded Toxin's
  vessel had it not been over-laden with gold and loot.  Black got hung up on
  the reef when he tried to maneuver his low-laying vessel over the coral.
  He got it free, but the bottom of the Dark Shark suffered great damage.
  Sea Hawk easily sped over the reef and overtook Black and his men.  There
  was a long and bloody battle after the two ships engaged, and Black almost
  won Sea Hawk from Marlowe--would have, in fact, had Marlowe not personally
  run his long sword through Black's black heart.  The Pirates were lost
  without their great leader, and submitted to the crew of the Sea Hawk.  The
  Dark Shark sunk in the moonlit waters just after midnight, still holding a
  fortune in gold, silver, and rare jewels.

       Now, Marlowe Toxin--Captain Marlowe, that is--sailed easily out of the
  harbor of Gildterdil, looking ahead over the bow of his schooner, Morning
  Breeze.  It was just before noon on a particularly beautiful summer's day.
  The water was almost still.  The air was cool and refreshing.  He looked
  beside him at the little dwarf named Fluppenstimme and wondered how the
  hell he'd acquired the services of the little rat.  In his mind, Marlowe
  pictured the scene at the bar in Gildterdil last week...



       "Eh, mon," said a little voice.

       Marlowe looked down beside him and saw the small figure of a brown-
  bearded dwarf.  "Whatta ya want, ya runt?" he asked politely.  (Though
  speech of this sort was considered very unpleasant to men, dwarves
  frequently conversed in this manner.)

       "Eef you are Coptain Merlowe, und you are lookingk for adfentcher, Ee
  gnow where you ken find eet--more then you ken handle!"

       "O.K. then, pipsqueek, spit it out," ordered Marlowe as he filled his
  pipe.

       The dwarf shifted.  Ee mootht be thure thet you will include me een
  thuh tresher.  Thwear the oath on yer thword."











                                       2


       "On my what?"

       "On yer thword," said the dwarf as he pointed to Marlowe's scabbard
  and it's contents.

       "Oh, all right," said Marlowe.  He placed his right hand upon the hilt
  of his sword.  "I swear by my life upon this sword to give you a share of
  every horde; and if I die before we're back, you get my purple Cadillac."
  The last part of the oath was meaningless, but it was included because it
  rhymed so nicely.  (Dwarves are obsessed with rhymes.)

       "Okeydo," said the dwarf, satisfied.  Now, hereth my offer: Ee know
  where to find the Evil Thimble of Great Powere."  His eyes gleamed as he
  stared at the Captain, waiting for a response.

       The Captain squinted and cocked his head to one side.  "An evil what?"

       "Not AN evil anything, THE Evil Thimble!" hollered the dwarf, and a
  few curious stares came from around the bar.

       "Not so loud, ya little twit!" whispered Marlowe intently.  "Speak in
  a civil tone or I'll boot ya outa here."

       The barman smiled as he heard this from the Captain, not realizing
  he'd said it only to uphold his image.  Damned if these limeys are gonna
  scoff at me for talkin' to this little runt, he thought.

       "Now what the poop is an evil thimble," he asked as he scratched his
  left ear.

       "Eeth not a thimble, eeth the Evil Thymbol; thymbol, not thimble."

       "WHAT?!" said Marlowe impatiently.  "Ah, get the poop outa here."

       "Leethen," said the dwarf.  "When Ee wath a wee toot, me pa wuth a
  mean old coot.  Whenever Ee did enything bad, he wuth mean tuh me.  Weell,
  wunth Ee came home a wee mite too late, an' he thtuck me tung to a hot iern
  an' he held eet there for feeve meenitth.  Ivver thinth, Ee ken't thay
  nuthing right.  Ee got the name Fluppenstimme (floop-en-shtim-meh) which
  meanth "foul-voithe" an' made fun uv all dee teme."

       By this time the whole bar was silent and listening with great
  enjoyment.  As the story ended, all but the Captain burst out laughing and
  could not be silenced.  Though the Captain despised the little runt, pity
  welled up inside him.  He yelled at the two nearest him to stop their
  chiding, but they were helplessly immersed in laughter.  Marlowe pulled out
  his long sword and gave the first one an artificial ear-to-ear grin, the
  second a premature autopsy.  "You limeys shut the hell up!" he screamed.
  The bar was shocked into silence, and all stared at him.  He grabbed
  Fluppenstimme by the hair and hurried out of the bar, thoroughly
  embarassed.

       "Well, quite a mess you've gotten us into," said Marlowe as he looked
  down at the four-foot tall writhing bundle of fuzz and sinew.









                                       3


       Fluppenstimme remained silent as he was transported out of the bar.
  They walked down the cobblestone street lined with old stone buildings as
  they watched the sun set in the harbor before them.  The odd pair received
  a few curious glances as they made their way to the shipyard where Captain
  Toxin lived on his schooner.  It was getting very dark as they arrived and
  Marlowe lit his oil lamp with a flint as they boarded the ship.

       "You leef here?" asked the dwarf.

       "Yup.  Been my home for two and a half years now--since I killed
  Captain Black."  He wished as soon as he'd said the words that he hadn't
  mentioned his famed pirate battle.  He was constantly being asked to tell
  the story--by old sailors, adventurers, young boys, young girls, and
  everyone else who met him and knew that he'd killed the infamous pirate,
  Black.  Sometimes he was asked to parties or dinners just to tell the
  story.  He'd appear--against his will, of course--decked in his Captain's
  jacket with his long sword in its scabbard, decorated with jewels he'd
  found on Black's body.  He carried the pirate's dagger on his belt, and
  kept another in his boot--just in case.  After he'd told the story, he'd be
  asked many questions about the ways of the pirates.  He was the local
  expert, for no one in Gildterdil had studied them as much as he.  And
  though audiences never grew tired of his stories, he did.  No, he didn't
  feel like telling pirate stories tonight.

       But the dwarf didn't ask him to.  He followed Marlowe into his
  quarters and looked around the walls at the various trophies, weapons, and
  decorations he'd received for his great deeds and shows of valor.  "Nithe
  plathe," he said.

       "Thanks," said Marlowe.  "Did I ever tell you about the time I almost
  single-handedly defeated Captain Black, the infamous pirate?"

       "Got any pipe-weed?" asked Fluppenstimme, pulling his pipe from within
  his tunic.

       "Sure," said Marlowe, pouting a little.  He took out his pouch and
  handed it to the dwarf after filling his own pipe.

       Marlowe threw himself onto his cot and motioned for his guest to sit
  in the wooden chair next to his small desk.  "Well, what's this evil
  thimble, or whatever it is?"

       "Lithen to me," said the dwarf.  "Eeth uh thymbol, not thimble.  Eth-
  wy-em-be-oh-el, thimble."

       "Oh, a symbol, a symbol..THE SYMBOL!!!!!!" he screamed, as he realized
  what the dwarf was talking about.  But before he had a chance to think or
  say one more thing the dwarf was all over him saying, "Ththththth!  Yuh
  want thumbody to hear yuh?"

       Marlowe peeled the dwarf's greasy hand off of his mouth and whispered
  excitedly, "How do you know where the Evil Symbol is?  That's supposed to
  have been lost for over two-hundred years."










                                       4


       "Ee can't tell yuh nuthingk more unteel yuh promithe mee you'll try to
  git it--und brink me with."

       Marlowe thought.  He had been waiting for a chance to do something
  really big, and here was his chance.  More than anything he wanted to go on
  a great adventure.  But he hadn't planned on getting involved with the Evil
  Symbol.  He had heard horror stories of people who had gone in search of
  the thing, and never come back; or worse yet, come back transformed into
  something awful.  One close friend of his was changed into his own mother-
  in-law.  Fate worse than death.

       And then there was the consideration of what might happen if he did
  get the Symbol.  Its powers were said to be so great that one was slowly
  and completely transformed by it into the image and nature of it's creator,
  the evil and terrible Alex, the Hag.  But it was a great tool.  Perhaps he
  could use it for a short time to gain great wealth and power, then destroy
  it.  Perhaps there would be some way to control it for a short while, then
  hide it somewhere that no human could ever find it again, and Marlowe Toxin
  would become Ruler of the Known Lands!  He, a lowly sea captain, would rule
  all!  Yes!  Yes!  It was worth the risk, it was worth the price, it was
  worth having to deal with a slimy dwarf.

       Fluppenstimme had fallen asleep at the Captain's desk and was drooling
  brown juices all over his maps.  "Wake up, you little runt.  I'll do it.
  Now tell me everything..."




       Morning Breeze now sailed on the open sea as Captain Marlowe was
  snatched from his daydream by a sharp "Grub's on!"  He walked to the stairs
  to the lower deck, followed closely by Fluppenstimme.  Meals were cooked by
  Karl, the cook and mother to the twenty-three man crew.  The Captain
  thought, as he entered the galley, that he ought not to get into the habit
  of taking Captains' rations, a slightly larger share than regular-sized
  rations.  It was bad for morale.  (Karl's food might be bad for him, too,
  if he ate too much of it.) So, he joined his men in the galley for lunch.
  The galley was the largest room inside the ship.  It included a big oaken
  table fifteen feet  long and four feet wide  which ran port to stern
  across  the ship's middle,  a large pot-bellied stove which burned wood
  or coal and provided the ship's heat for cooking and cold weather, and four
  tall wooden cabinets--two on either side of the entrance to the men's
  sleeping quarters--which contained the ship's cooking utensils, dry foods,
  tools, first aid supplies, weapons, and any miscellaneous goods which were
  not big enough to have been placed in the ship's hold.  In all, the room
  measured thirty feet long by twenty feet wide, a veritable cathedral where
  ships were concerned.  It was this great room which made the Morning Breeze
  so valuable.  Here a captain could meet with his men under any conditions
  to make plans in comfortable and accommodating setting.

       Captain Marlowe and Fluppenstimme entered the galley through the rear
  door off the poop deck.











                                       5


       "Ho Cap'n," said a few of the crewmembers.  "Ho runt," said a few
  others.

       "Good-morning, men," said Captain Marlowe.  "Are you all prepared to
  undertake the task which we are now undertaking?"

       "Yes Cap'n!" was the emphatic reply.  "An' yer the best adventure
  undertaker there is," added someone.

       "Gee, thanks men," blushed Marlowe.  He was very proud of his crew.
  They were the elites of Gildterdil; the twenty best of the sixty or so
  experienced sailors in the harbor town.  Fifteen of them were ordinary
  brigands, men of experience and great loyalty.  All had impressive records
  of bravery and success.  In addition to these, there were two sergeant-
  leaders--Scenders and Wessel--and Marlowe's first mate.  The latter was a
  man Marlowe could trust beyond anyone else he knew.  His name was Sandaken
  Giles, and he was the only man on board who had actually seen a real
  dragon.  The last two men were different: they were from the School of
  Wizards.  These were Pelegor the Sorceror and his apprentice Tok.  Pelegor,
  though not an officially ordained Wizard, was said to possess all the
  powers of a Wizard except those of enchanting; but he did not desire the
  responsibilities of wizardship.  He was especially knowledged in the arcane
  arts of Summoning and Cursing, though he refrained from practising the
  latter because his mother had told him it was wrong.

       Karl, the cook, brought the count to twenty-one, and Fluppenstimme and
  Marlowe to twenty-three.  Quite the fine crew, thought Marlowe smugly.

       The Captain smiled cheerfully as he walked over to the table and sat
  next to Sandaken.  The dwarf sat opposite them, next to Tok.  Karl set a
  plate in front of each of them, and Marlowe said to Sandaken, "This is the
  greatest and most perilous quest we will ever embark upon," then took his
  first bite of Karl's prune casserole.


                                 END PART ONE