Valensorow's Maiden Voyage, as remembered by Slamby pt.1

Hear ye, fair travelers! It is I, Slamby, here to recount the tale of Valensorow’s maiden voyage! I finally have time and space, Wuldor is in Southern California and decided it was a great idea to leave me alone by myself rather than take me to Disneyland. Who says deers aren’t allowed, yet drunken pirates are?! What kind of world do we live in? Atrocities all around…

The story begins with the meeting of the Clan at their rehearsal studio to load the land boat known as “Betty White”. Clearly a fitting name, she is rather aged and temperamental. As the young crew, led by Captain Wuldor Blaakhart, fit all the necessary gear for the road ahead including many, many pieces to our Ferret’s nest (he calls it a “rack” but I feel it is much more fitting as a nest as he rarely leaves it for long, mainly to gather more supplies), I found out quickly that the floor of the boat was very comfortable. Dirty, but comfortable, such as many of the wenches I’ve called “dear”. The Clan took their time ensuring that all the necessary elements were in order before we began our descent into the madness of the never ending drive…which began at 9pm…I do not have any idea WHY they thought that was a good idea, clearly nobody cares what a deer has to say about such issues. 

Up first for leading the crew behind the wheel was the Captain, who navigated the Sierra Nevada’s with much ease. Early on in our trip, we realized the A/C was not exactly in working order, and so for a troop of six young men and a deer we were not exactly enjoying the air quality and temperature. The first two side windows pop open, but for any of us who have driven on freeways with windows down, it gets a little loud and can be chilly…such as when it is the middle of the night in the Sierra Nevada’s when the honorable Doctor Bruce and most noble of Joeys are attempting to sleep while the Captain sings Iron Maiden songs to himself. What a ragtag group we have…

As we halt just outside of Reno for gas, we realize it was around 3:30am. As for most things in Nevada, gas is accompanied by slot machines and cheap booze. It is rather difficult to walk into any building without getting visually assaulted by the flashing lights of the notorious video poker, yet our Clan stayed true to their righteous path and defended themselves from the greed invoking demons. ONWARD MEN!

For the sad souls to have known this feeling, few will forget it: car troubles. Wuldor first noticed that the battery was reading dead, yet Tommy Noble and Noah quickly decided that it was not likely an issue. Oh how this misjudgment would stab us all in the heart later on. We were all travelling through the barren wasteland of Nevada, where there seems to live nothing other than tumbleweeds and rocks. While we were in Carlin, the locals were excited to offer their fliers for events only to discover we were only passing through. At this time, the Captain began struggling in his battle against fatigue and the evils it brings with it, so Doctor Bruce took over. We all began attempting to awaken, although none of us were awake enough to truly function. The number of times I came to realizing I was cuddling with Ferret is somewhat frightening…

To be continued...