WE LOVE YOU SPLAT! MARRY US!!! No! Marry ME!!! YEAH!

Whats gonna happen to Aaron?

GO SPLAT!!
MORE MORE!!:D

T, if i told you that the story would loose its entire sense of cliche (and anyway, we hardly know each other *giggle*).

More coming sooner or later!

(wow, 2 totally irrelevent posts in one hour on the same thread!)



The following chapter goes here, where I'm putting it now, in the run of things. I've posted it before but the forums seem to have deleted it so I'm editing it into this post. It's confusing but this is in the right place now so there you go. Ignore all this.


Chapter 15, Battle on the Plain of Gopemi

Outside the factory, a vast army of all kinds of sligs, slogs and various other nasty creatures was gathering outside the factory. Ranks of heavily armoured mugs, hoards of sligs and big-bro-sligs, rows of flying sligs all refuelling, eating or loading weapons, ready for a long battle.
Many miles to the Southeast a solitary mudokon jogged determinedly onward, a small green metallic ball clutched in his hand, a small bottle of nerve gas and a "long distance cattle prod" stuffed in his loincloth with a compass clutched in the other hand. He had been jogging all day but possessed the endurance of his species and knew he could comfortably go the rest of the night and most of the next day at his current speed. He smiled confidently to himself: There was no way they could find him now.
The plain of Gopemi was a large empty stretch of grass. Nothing lived there, no trees were dotted over the plain, no animals stirred the fresh green grass. People knew Gopemi was a word from the ancient Glukkon language but no one remembered what it meant; there was a myth that a terrible battle had taken place there and death had sunk into the soil, scaring away any plants or animals that went near it. The business-crazed glukkons scoffed at this, saying it was all rubbish. There had been no move to build there, despite the perfect conditions for it.
To the north, east and west were sparsely wooded slopes of grass covered in short red bushes that seeped poison when touched. To the south a massive forest spread out over the earth like a green blanket.

It was the day following Aaron’s escape and it was drawing into late afternoon. Fatigue was finally starting to seep into Aaron’s muscles as he slowly picked his way down a light slope, covered in stunted red bushes. He’d learnt, rather late, that the red pus they emitted when touched was pretty painful. He was less than eager to touch one again.
He was quite away down when he came to a sudden ridge where he stopped and gazed down below him. At the bottom of the slope he was on was a wide unnaturally empty plain that stretched out for miles in all directions. But beyond that was a vast forest that disappeared over the horizon many miles to the south. His heart leapt: he was nearly there!
He looked back over his shoulder up the slope he had just climbed. For a second he stopped to think about Bill and that old Mud who’d helped him so much. He hoped they were ok.
Suddenly he spotted a speck appear over the top of the ridge. He squinted at it as several more appeared around it. They were floating in the air above the grass. They were too big for birds… A familiar whirring sound reached his ears and he swore loudly: flying sligs! He turned and ran as fast as he could down the slope, ignoring the stings as those red plants sprayed poison over him… Moments later the rest of the sligs army came pouring over the hill.

"Scouts say they’ve seen him sir."
"Where?"
"About 2 thirds of the way down the hill sir."
"Let’s get him then. Hurry up the army, we’ve gotta catch him before he reaches the forest.
"Yes sir."

"GOTCHA!!!" Aaron spun round and squeezed the nozzle down. The flying slig screamed and swung away as a large dose of nerve gas was blasted into his face. That slig had broken forward from the rest, Aaron was still ahead of the army and just reaching the bottom of the slope; that plain looked a lot bigger from down here. He gritted his teeth and forced his aching muscles and heavily stung legs to carry him forward.

"What’s going on?"
"There’s no way I’m setting one foot onto that plain man, you know what they say about it.
The B-B grunted, shot the guy in the head and turned to the rest of his squadron, "Any one else got any objections?" No one spoke; the B-B turned and ran across the grass, steadily catching up with Aaron.

Aaron yelped as a bullet narrowly missed his hand. He spun round and sprayed a load of gas into the face of a B-B-Slig who yelled and dropped to his metal knees, clutching at his eyes. Aaron froze, staring in horror at the massive army pouring down the slope and across the plain towards him. He stared down at the small green ball in his hand. A huddle of sligs firing at him made him jump; he spun round again and ran onwards.

He drained away the rest of the nerve gas on some more flying sligs. But now the meetles had made it down onto the flat stretch of grass. He spun round and ran as fast as he could, throwing the empty bottle over his shoulder. He wasn’t watching when it hit the head of a slig on the back of a meetle who collapsed over unconscious, dragging his ride over with him. The meetle spun round and crashed into the one next to it. The two locked together and the slig riding the second one panicked, smacking desperately at the riderless meetle. He accidentally hit the weapon’s trigger and it fired, hitting his owns weapon, which exploded. A crater suddenly appeared in the plains where several meetles and a lot of sligs had been a second earlier.

The cattle prod evidently wasn’t intended for long-term use because the energy gauge was hovering near zero and it was no longer frying attackers, just stunning them for a few seconds. Aaron had maybe another 5000 metres to run but his muscles were failing him. Bullets were whizzing past his face, grenades making small craters in the grass around him and he was about to loose his second weapon.
Aaron yelled in pain and dropped the gun: his luck had finally run out and a bullet had struck him in the shoulder. Clutching the Orb tightly, he forced his screaming limbs to carry him faster.
Another bullet hit him in the back, sinking through flesh. A grenade narrowly missed him, the heat singing the skin of his leg. He stumbled onwards, gasping with pain and exhaustion.
He was bleeding heavily, the left side of his body was badly burnt and his limbs seemed to be made of lead. A bullet flew past his right ankle, scraping the skin off the bone.
He was so close now. But his right ear seemed to have been shot off; blood was spurting from the wound. Leaking down his limp arm from his shoulder, running out of a wound on his back, trailing around his blistered feet. He was so close to the trees now. He closed his eyes. And suddenly he felt a shadow cast over his back. Darkness rested on his eyelids. He opened them.

"Sir, he got in!"
"What?"
"He’s dissapeared, none of our men will go into those trees. You know what they say about what’s in there!"
"…"
"He was half dead when he got in though sir, blood everywhere. They shot him up well before he got in."
"Well, that’s something. Have messengers sent to the other side of the forest, tell them to look out for anyone they don’t recognise, have em searched. We’ve got to get that thing back!"
"Yes sir."

Aaron stumbled forward through the trees. It was so quiet in there, so cool. So relaxing…
But the Orb was still glowing in his hand and until it was safe…
Aaron caught site of a small wooden hut though the trees. He stumbled towards it and as he approached the door, a tall mudokon slowly swung it open. He spotted Aaron and ushered him through the door, stepping back into the hut. Aaron dragged his bloody body afterwards.
He felt soft wood and dry grass beneath his feet. He slipped over and landed on his knees. Slowly he turned his head up to the mudokon before him. With a rather weak grin he raised his good hand and pressed the Orb into that of the guy in front of him, who took the Orb and grabbed Aaron’s hand, "Well done my friend, you have done what no other mudokon could. You have brought our people freedom."
Aaron smiled again and then choked; he flopped to his hands and knees, hacking up blood and mucus and vomit. After several seconds he stopped and said quietly: "They used to tell me… death was… only the beginning."
He collapsed forward into the rapidly widening puddle of his own blood on the floor and never breathed again.



So ends Aarons part in things. "The Quest for the Orb" will continue in part 3: The Naturalist.

Yeah youre famous!!:D:D

(or the tale is very good)

Nah, its the second :P

Finally back! I wrote this chapter ages ago and now I'm gonna post it! HUZZAH!!!


Part 3, the Naturalist


Chapter 1,

In southern Glucose there was a factory that people said was the most secure this side of the ocean. Two days walk Southwest of that factory was the plain of Gopemi were a great battle was once fought over a millennia ago. On the south side of the plain was a vast forest stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction. A short walk into the thick trees was a small wooden hut.
A trail of blood led from the plain through the forest and through the open door of the hut, up to the body of a dead mudokon, slumped on the floor. Standing before the body was a tall mudokon called Graham.
Very few people knew how Graham had ended up living in a hut in a forest in southern Glucose. Let alone a forest considered evil by almost all who knew of its existence nearby. But live there he did, for who-knows-how-many-years. And he knew why sligs feared the forest.
Graham looked down sadly at the body of the young mudokon that lay on the floor before him. That kid wasn’t the first. There was a legend around the Orb that said all who held the Orb when it was in the grip of the Glukkons died shortly afterwards. No one to ever have held it before had died within days of loosing it. And now he gripped in his fingers.
Graham whispered a quick prayer for the boy, then he stepped around the body (ancient people had believed it a terrible taboo to step over dead body and they had been right about so many things) and went outside and raised his hand into the air and muttered a few words from an ancient language. After a few seconds a group of birds fluttered down towards him and formed a ring. Energy bonds flew from the birds, creating a glowing portal. Graham leaned towards it and whispered, "I have the Orb. The boy is dead… Bullet wounds, in his shoulder and back and legs… It seems he cracked… Oh, well… I know, I will; Odd knows he deserves it… I’m going to, just to the other side of the forest… Yes, I will… I know the legends but someone has to… Ok, you’ve been a great support to me if it does end like that… Me to. Bye." Graham turned away and the birds fluttered into the trees. Then he turned around, took a spade from the side of his house and began digging.

An old shaman stood in a small room with blank iron walls, ceiling and floor with no visible entrance or exit. In front of him was a flat circle of light, floating in thin air. The old mud was right against up against it and seemed to be speaking into it, "… What? What happened to him? …I always knew the risks. The army left in your direction barely 8 hours after he left… It wasn’t Bill who told them, I promise you that. But it appears I made a mistake myself in overlooking the prisoner next to Bill… Give Aaron the proper respects… We need to get someone else to take it across, any ideas? …Oh! Well. You know what could happen to you… If you’re sure. I’ll be sorry to loose you if the curse stuff is true… Ok, I’ll miss you then if…" The old mud stepped away from the portal as it closed and sighed. A few seconds later he vanished from the room without a trace that he’d ever been there.



It's shorter than what i usually write, i know. But this whole section is gonna be a trial to write, i basically have no ideas in what to do here. Ah well, I'll just get on with it and se how it goes, shall I?

Yeah.... Whatever you'll write, it'll always please me! so get on with it! ^_^

Oh yeah! We have story! WOHOO! I missed this. Great Splat, lucky for you that you posted this or you'd have to meet my friend Mr. Machine-Gun. :P

Just kidding.

Really.

I believe a gulp is in order:eeek:

Glad you guys botrh like this! (oh, and you kill me, i won't write anything else, so THERE)

Hey! I'm back!
Sorry I haven't repied for so long, we've moved house and the comp was in a box.
I like the chapter. When is the next one?

I'll try and have it by next weekend but I'm not actually supposed to be on the computer at all right now and I have my mock exams looming. Anyway, Christmas holidays in a few weeks so I should have time to write loads then (whether or not I do is another matter entirely). 27 DAYS TILL CHISTMAS

Finally! :D! Cool chapter! Go on with the next! :) Go splat! :D hmmm... i've been waiting so long for this. ^_^

hey cool chapter splat!!:)

*hugs*

Finally! Merry Christmas Splat, and a Happy New Year!!! ^_^
Just one thing. This size >-<...I thought there were too many brackets. That's all. Apart from that...great!

*hugs Splat and runs off in a Santa hat, singing Jingle Bells*

It's good, but have you closed for Christmas? It's only in four days

Try reading whats there fuzzleguy!!! As in before and after the chapter! And I mean the Christmas holidays wich started for me last weekend. It's so i can get more stuff written. I was just lookin through here the other day and i noticed what i've written below and won't bother to repeat now.

wow i missed something:)
Great chapters Splat!!

NO ONE IS ANSWERING MY QUESTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yup, it seems to have disappeared. I wonder where it went? :fuzconf:

You got Christmas holidays last weekend!?!?! :eek: I've just finished my exams this morning! Still, as long as I'm on my holidays I don't mind :fuzwink:

Ok, cheers scrab-watcher! I'll edit that into place then.

I've just read all the chapters in one go (it took me around an hour and a half, or somewhere close to that) and I've got to say, WOW!!! They're fantastic! I can't wait until the next one.

Back after Christmas, I've tried to sort out the technical difficulty I had before. Thanks once more to scrabwatcher for helping me out. So it's been 2 weeks (give or take) since the last installment so here it is now, fresh off the shelves,


Chapter 4, Origins
Before the invasion glukkons had been secretive and suspicious. They had kept to themselves and eventually built a solid concrete wall all the way around Glucose to keep "those stinkin freaks" out. The wall was maintained annually and patrolled almost constantly. Hadrian had nothing on these guys! Still, parts of it were less well guarded than others. The wall ran through places that Glukkons liked to avoid. When the invasion on Mudos began the wall was still maintained at first but workers became lax. Those places where no one liked to go quickly fell into disrepair long before the caring of the wall was dropped altogether.
In the forest of Gopemi There was little of the wall left except a heap of crumbling rubble and the grassy foundations. Graham had kept his eyes on the ground all day, looking for any sign of his crossing into Mudos. Now he stood in front of the crumbled line of concrete, staring across into Mudos: the place he’d come from; the place he should have felt safer.
But the forest was one of the few, if not the only place on the border where he’d be safer on the Glucose side. Sligs weren’t scared of the forest over there. The patrolled it regularly(ish) and were a lot less likely to fly into a blind panic when scared. It was notably more dangerous than his half.
Graham didn’t want to cross that line. How long had it been since he’d last been in Glucose? He couldn’t even remember. And now here he was, holding an object that the glukkons would do almost anything to get back, about to step over into a land where glukkons would actually be looking for it before long. Hopefully, by tomorrow night he wouldn’t be the one carrying it. It wouldn’t be his problem anymore. Actually, if and when the curse played its card, he wouldn’t have any problems anymore. And for some reason that thought wasn’t comforting.
With a sigh he stepped over the line.
Once again, if he’d expected 20 sligs to leap out of the undergrowth and fill him full of metal he was disappointed. Trying to decide whether this was a good thing or not, Graham set out through the trees.

Evening was drawing in and all afternoon Graham hadn’t seen so much as an empty bullet cartridge to feed his terror. Maybe he was just overreacting. Or maybe the patrols had been lessened since his last visit. Either way, it was with a lot less caution that he threw himself down on the edge of a clearing and pulled a Paramite Pie out of his loincloth. An hour later he was starting to doze.

He was walking down a long tunnel, clutching the Orb. Suddenly a slig leapt out of no where and raised its gun to him, but he held up the Orb and the slig burst into flames. He kept walking and suddenly another slig appeared. He raised the Orb again and the slig turned to stone. He continued walking.
Every so often another slig leapt out but he simply raised the Orb and it was gone. Some simply vanished, some blew up, turned to dust or dropped to the ground, dead.
After a while Graham heard voices up ahead. Fearing more sligs, he lifted the Orb, only it wasn’t the Orb, it was a grenade. He quickly threw it away but it hit the tunnel wall and exploded. Chunks of the tunnel were raining down around him as it collapsed and the voices were getting louder: "HEY MENICK, THIS LOOKS LIKE A GOOD SPOT!!!

Graham jerked awake and for a few seconds was surprised to find himself in a clearing, not a dark tunnel. He heard voices: "Yeah, this’ll do. GUYS, WE FOUND A PLACE!"
Sligs! Graham leapt into a bush, making more noise than he would have liked. A torch beam flashed over him. "D’you here that Menick?"
There was a few seconds silence then "Probably just some animal." A stream of bullets passed over his head, ruffling his ponytail. "There ya go, it’ll probably have bolted now anyway."
A new voice joined the other 2, "What ya shootin at idiot?"
"Just some animal. Scared poor wittel Bezin here didnit!"
"Shut up!"
"Aw, is big nasty Menick bein howwibew to Bezin now?"
"SHUT UP!"
Someone laughed and a fourth voice interrupted, "Cut it out you lot or it’ll be mornin by the time we get these bl00dy tents up."
Graham almost swore. They were gonna be staying the night there. He wasn’t exactly in a good position. His back was aching were a branch was pressing into it, one arm was caught between his stomach and a rock on the ground, his legs were crushed up beneath him, twigs were wavering threateningly near his eyes and nostrils. He didn’t dare move with at least 4 sligs just metres away, especially after how close he’d come to having 5 bullets pass through his skull already.
Graham prayed quietly that it was already past midnight and settled down to the grunting and snorting noises related to 4 or 5 sligs trying to erect tents for themselves in near darkness. It was gonna be a very long night.


Feel free to comment

Awww...poor chappy, that must be terribly uncomfortable. Happy new year Splat!

Thanks. at least one of you people still read this *sniff*

Sorry for not posting lately... But i want you to know that i read them even though i don't post... it's just that sometimes i don't have time to post...

Anyway, i love them as usual, and i feel that this gets better and better :) Keep it up!!

Very very cool so far. Keep it up :).

Hopefully I can get back in routine now.
Strange... it was never that hard to cross the border...

Sarge! Ur not dead! Oh, what a fantabulous day this is! Anyway, I'll get the next chapter up asap, probably sooner than the next of Amy acutually, but we'll see how it goes

Just finished it. I get tommorow off school :fuzgrin: and I'm going away to a holiday camp for the weekend :fuzgrin:. And I have a ton of homework that I'm never gonna get done, ever, as long as I'm still in fulltime education... :fuzsad:

Ah well, I'll just get on with it shall I? I was in a good mood when I wrote this, as you may notice. I suppose it's not really suitable for what's going on but what can I do? It makes me look less morbid. I'm off again, sorry. Here ya go, chapter whatever-number-we're-on-now...


Chapter 5, Crime and Punishment
Graham couldn’t remember a longer night. Back aching, arm numb from lack of circulation. Legs tangled with branches, getting bent and scraped painfully every time he tried to relax the burning muscles, twigs scraping at his eyes, feathers tangled in the branches and tugging uncomfortably at his scalp every time he moved his head. It was like torture. It was torture! Graham was paying for his overconfidence and wasn’t sure he was getting a fair deal. Still it could have been worse, he thought bitterly, they haven’t found me.
Still, morning came eventually, has mornings often do, and soon the grunting and snorting noises related to 4 or 5 sligs trying to pack tents into tiny sacks was echoing around the clearing. They ate a hurried breakfast and were getting ready to leave.
"Hang on," One said suddenly as they were getting ready.
"Oh, what is it now?"
"We’re running low on food. We might be able to get another couple of days out here if we can hunt some stuff: extra pay right there! I wanna see if I can find that animal that terrified Bezin in the night."
"Shut up!"
"Aw, nasty Menick, don’t be howwibew to poor littew Bezin agen?"
"Shut up tw@t!" One of the sligs punched another and they began to fight. Graham prayed they’d forget about him. But Odd hadn’t answered his prayers all night and this morning wasn’t looking to be an exception.
"Cut it out you two." Muttered one of them and he began beating through the undergrowth, very close to Graham’s bush.
Please, please don’t let them find me!
Light suddenly streamed down over his tortured body, "Well, well, what do we have here?"
You’re pushin me Odd!
"What is it Menick?"
"Looks like we got ourselves an escapee." And addressing Graham, "Get up Mud!"
Graham pushed himself onto his aching feet, thinking every curse and profanity that cared to pass through his mind.
"Where’ve you come from mud? Been no escapees round here lately, have there, guys."
"Don’t be an idiot Menick, look at the scars on his lips. The strings on his mouth have been out ages; he’s not a recent one."
"So where’s he from? He’s not one of the natives is he? And he’s too old to be Barah’s isn’t he. There aren’t any others out here we know about."
"Maybe he’s from Glucose?" Suggested one.
"Most intelligent thing you’ve said in years Tror."
Odd, at least tell me they don’t know about the Orb.
"Yeah, wasn’t there a runaway up above Gopemi about 20 years ago?"
"Herra, get a life."
"You from Glucose, Mud?" Menick barked. Graham kept his mouth firmly closed, trying to think up a good comment about originating from Mudos.
"Oh forget the talk, lets just search him and get out of here. 3 days off for bagging a prisoner."
"Fine," Menick muttered and grabbed Graham by the shoulders and spun him round. "Bezin, do the honours."
"Why do I have to?"
"Cause I found him and I said so."
"You wouldn’t have found him at all if it wasn’t for-"
"If it wasn’t for you bein a wimp. Just strip `im and shut up."
Grumbling to himself, Bezin bent down low. "You fart Mud, and I’ll fill your backside so full of lead you’ll leave pencil marks whenever you sit down." Tenderly, the slig undid Graham’s loincloth. As it fell away several packets of food fell from it, and then:
"Well, well, well. What `av we here? Got yourself a pretty little toy ain’t ya Mud?"
"Whoa," One of the others muttered, moving forward and taking the warm, metallic green ball off Bezin.
Oh, Odd, please no!
"What dyo think this is?" He was holding the Orb up to the sunlight. Graham started breathing again, wishing the bl00dy thing would just explode and fry them all.
"A pay-rise, that’s what it is," Menick said, throwing Graham back into his bush, and grabbing it, "What dya reckon we could get for something like this? Might even get a promotion if it’s worth a bit. No more patrols, wouldn’t mind that loss, would we guys?"
Someone grabbed Graham by his aching shoulder, yanked him to his aching feet and threw his loincloth at his face. "Stick it back on Mud, and we’ll get goin. Reckon we can afford to have a bit of fun when we get back."
Graham pulled his loincloth off his face and stared down the barrel of a gun. The slig was lighting up; he could just knock the gun aside and run…
But the Orb. They’d gone through so much to get it. What would his master have to say to him if he left it in the hands of the sligs? Dammit, why did this have to happen to him? Feeling more like a fool than ever, he fastened his loincloth round his waist and stepped out of the bushes. 5 minutes later a gun barrel was being dug into his spine as he walked quicker than his burning muscles would have liked through the forest surrounded by a convoy of over-exited sligs.
So this was the glamorous life of a rebel? Graham found himself thinking lustfully of 20 years ago in his nice, iron barred cell back in Glucose, which (he numbly noted) was completely devoid of bushes. And that bl00dy, bl00dy Orb.


I'm away from the weekend but I should be back by Monday or Sunday night. Feedback is welcome as always.

Cool Splat!!
Have a nice holiday:)

Well, the lack of slig superstition in Mudos helped there...
Enjoy your camp, Splat.

Cheers Searge, it was great.

Anyway, as so many people are yelling at me for killing Bill, lets say (for anyone that cares) that the Old Mudokon appeared in the night, healed Bill as best he could and carted him away into his hideaway.

And for those who don't care, or do and just want to find out what happens next, i give you... Part 3, Chapter 6


Chapter 6, Industrial Claws

From what Graham gathered, it was 2 days walk to the nearest factory. But with the sligs stopping every other hour, it was going to take at least 3.
The sligs didn’t seem as edgy or cautious as they were when they first found him. The Orb kept swapping hands. Whoever carried it was shoved to the centre of the huddle, often kept under a closer guard than Graham. They kept taking it out, gazing at it, just holding it, occasionally shoving it tauntingly into Graham’s face while shoving a gun into his back.
They had pulled several flasks of brown liquid, passing them around, taking deep gulps, smacking anyone who spilled any. They stumbled noisily, drunkenly through the forest, firing the odd shot into the trees. Graham wasn’t sure whether they were trying to hit anything or just trying to scare away anything thinking of attacking them. Whatever they were trying, it wasn’t working. Several times they were attacked by scrabs or paramites. They seemed unable to go an hour without coming within a foot of painful death leaving Graham pumped full of adrenaline and the sligs jeering the pathetic attempts of the forest to finish them off.
Whenever they stopped and sat down they’d bring out the Orb and gaze at it, passing it around from one to the other, leaving Graham almost unguarded. They didn’t even think to tie him up. But he couldn’t leave the Orb, and soon they were barging through the forest again, laughing, drinking and basically drawing the attention of every living creature within 20 miles.
It was when they were walking next to him carrying the Orb that Graham began to understand his guard. Bezin always seemed to be looking for an opportunity to get away with the Orb for himself. He certainly drank less than the others, and was more alert. Menick was also thinking mainly of himself. Muttering about what he was going to do with his reward money. He drank loads and beat Graham around the head every few minutes, while constantly muttering about what was going on around him: "Bezin’s an easy target," "Herra’s got his gun by his side." If he hadn’t been constantly wasted he’d have been the most dangerous of the 4.
Herra seemed slightly more on edge. He was still in high spirits but was certainly more worried about the dangers of the forest than the others. His concentration didn’t seem to span any further than getting back to the factory (Uncle Eddy’s Eyestitch Emporium). He was generally to one to hit the animals that attacked them and was constantly warning the others of various dangers, most of which were ignored. Sometimes he’d lower his voice and whisper to one of the others so Graham couldn’t here him. He’d usually get shrugged off and told, "We’re to far North for that."
Tror was the most exited. He seemed to hate the others and the others certainly hated him. Even so, he was definitely the most loyal. The thought of nicking the Orb never once occurred to him. He rarely held the Orb or guarded Graham. He mostly jumped about at the front of the line, driving Menick to death and firing random strings of bullets into the trees and sky.
After 2 and a half days of this, Graham had decided that if he couldn’t grab the Orb by tonight he was just going to leave it. He couldn’t do the impossible and getting made a prisoner while the Orb was sent off to another factory in another far off land wasn’t going to help anybody.
The sligs stopped then, threw their packs down, pulled out the Orb and huddled round it, Tror and Menick pointing guns at him one handed, without looking at him. Graham decided now or never and began to sidle slowly, quietly towards them, hoping that rustle in the bushes was wind and not another scrab. Then again, a scrab might panic them into dropping the Orb. And in the highly unlikely event that he wasn’t eaten, he might be able to grab it.
"Hey, Mud, what the Hell dya think you’re doin?" Graham was thrown backwards heavily as Menick yelled out. Three of them clustered around him. "What, you tryin to steal your little ball back? Ha! We won’t let anyone take it away from us, will we guys?" He gestured Herra and Tror standing around him.
"There’s someone taking it right now." Graham said quietly. The three sligs spun round quickly. Standing at the other side of the clearing was Bezin, his hands clasped round the Orb, looking at them, terrified. For at least 5 seconds there was total silence. Then Bezin leapt round and dived for the trees. Menick roared and leapt after him. Tror and Herra both raised guns to shoot.
There was a rustle form the trees, a whistle of disturbed air, a dull thud and Bezin suddenly froze, as did the other three. Herra slowly lowered his gun below his face and Graham could easily imagine the look of fear on his face.
A flint spearhead was sticking out of Bezin’s back. Blood was running from the wound, down his legs, staining the ground. Slowly he stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. A short wooden spear shaft ran into his chest, blood flowing out into the open air. His eyes were empty with death. The Orb was still clasped to his chest. For a few seconds Graham’s guard was silent. Then Menick roared and began firing wildly into the trees. Herra leapt onto the body of Bezin and began to pry at the fingers still clutching the Orb. Tror turned to run but he had barely gone 5 paces when he to, froze in his tracks, the feathers and last inch of an arrow sticking into the back of his neck. Blood was already gushing from the wound. Menick roared again and began firing madly at a different point in the clearing. With a sudden yell he threw down his gun and clutched his right wrist where another arrow had dug right though his flesh and bone to burst out on the other side. He opened his mouth to yell aloud but had hardly made a whisper when a third arrow burst out of the trees, straight through his open teeth and slipped out the back of his head. Blood began flowing from his mouth as he keeled over onto the ground and began gasping and groaning through a mouth of blood. Herra took one look at him and turned to run from the clearing. Before he reached the trees a large blunt object came flying at him, striking him in the head and crushing in the front of his skull. The Orb fell from his hands and Graham scrambled towards it.
He froze as three figures stepped from the trees. There was 2 seconds silence finally broken by, "Graham?"
Graham leapt to his feet. "Barry?" The other mudokon nodded and Graham ran forward and embraced him. "Barry, How… When…"
"What are you doing here Graham?"
"Oh that’s nice. We don’t see each other for 18 years and all you can say is "What are you doing here?"." He stared into his friends puzzled face and then laughed. "What do ya think I’m doin here?" He reached down and picked up the Orb from the bloody grass.
"Ah, of course… Master finally found someone to get it out?"
"Well obviously."
Barry grinned. "You, my friend, haven’t changed a bit."
"Well you have. Just look at you, tribal paint and everything!"
"I got promoted." He answered smoothly. "For some reason the tribe over here find something impressive about being "chosen" by a shaman."
"And you've got your little pack of follwers," Graham added, motioning the other 2 mudokons now in the clearing, one carrying a heavy wooden club and the other eezing his spear out of Bezin's chest, "And the arrows: that’s somethin you couldn’t do 20 years ago."
"Practice Graham. And hard work - something you broke records for: being to only person to live 15 years in the factory in Glucose without doing any of it!"
Graham laughed, "I take it back; not even an idiotic escape attempt, getting almost killed and becoming the lead hunter of some tribe could ever change you."
"Chief warrior actually."
"Whatever, I don’t care."
Barry laughed. "Exactly the same as ever. You act like some terrified idiot but the moment we need ya… well, I just watched you sneak into a pack of drunk sligs when you could have easily run away. Not everyone could do that."
"You could! You would have nicked the Orb and tied their legs together before I even got close!" Graham held out the Orb. "It’s your turn to play the hero Barry."
Barry looked at him slowly and then down at the Orb. He smiled suddenly and took it into his own hands. "Yeah, ok. Sounds like fun."
"What about the curse Barry? Aren’t ya scared?" Graham was grinning but Barry knew him well enough to see his fear.
He placed a hand on Graham’s shoulder, "Hey buddy, you’re still alive. The Orb’s out of industrialist claws. Maybe it’s worn off."


And so ends Graham's part of the Quest. Soon will come Part 4, The Sacrifice...

And in the meantime, tell me what you think. Especially about the attack on the sligs.

Hey, i liked the attack of the sligs. Very alive and imaginative :) Keep it up. I hope you'll have more ready soon ;).

I've never read this before, but it's one of the top stories I've ever seen!
(Better then mine)

(claps) very good. those sligs got what was comeing to them all right. can't wait to see what happens next.

Wow! I'm glad you guys like it so much! Next chapter is in planning stages. I meant to keep Graham going a little longer but the chapter was already getting long and I didn't have enough stuff for another of his chapters so I've got to fit the rest of his bit in with Barry's first chapter. Anyway, I'll get it up as soon as i can.

The attack was very... graphic. Yeah. Graphic. :D
Keep it up.