Shameless plug time!
If you direct your attention to my signature, you'll see I am planning an RPG based on Stephen King's The Dark Tower. If you would like to encourage it, say so here (along with your usual compliments and encouragement), or PM me.
Now, for Dante.
Chapter 47
I had to rustle up a plan, and quickly. If I couldn’t rally the slogs over to my side in the next few minutes, they would probably get it in their heads to attack me.
So it was time to try something.
I tried speaking to the other slogs, and was a little disheartened to realize that even though I thought I was talking, all that came out of my mouth was a stream of barks, grunts and whispers.
What I thought I had said was: “Guys, I don’t want you to panic, but I think that the sligs are getting ready to shoot us or something!”
The other slogs faltered, and their scents began to waver. I knew that they had understood what I was trying to say, after all. My heightened slog smell picked up that they were slightly skeptical, but not unwilling to listen.
Some barks and grunts answered me. The slog brain in me interpreted these easily, and I was able to understand. “What makes you say that? The sligs have always been good to us. They even take us to nicer pens once we get big enough.”
What? I didn’t believe that at all. The only place that the meat slogs were taken when they got big enough was to the kitchen. Maybe if I broke the news to them ….
“That’s not where they take us!” I whimpered. “We get taken directly from here to the kitchens in Tastee Treets to get made into Slog Surprise, and the glukkons sell it and eat it!”
Smells that signaled both disgust and terror filled my nose. They believed me unquestioningly, which, I now reflect, was a blessing.
“And,” I continued, “the sligs are going to take us all now and kill us. What are we going to do about it?”
Fear filled my nose. Luckily, my own nervous and scared scent fit right in with the general smell. Several slogs began to howl, and soon more joined the chorus. In a short while, we were all causing quite a ruckus.
The sligs standing guard were soon irritated. There were several shouts of “Shut up down there!” and “Will you slogs keep quiet!?” And I began to form a plan. I just had to hope that the sligs would do the most likely thing.
And they did. Within minutes, five nearby mudokons were climbing down into the slog pit to try and calm us down.
I whined a short message to the sligs. “Leave the mudokons alone. They just want to chill us out.”
The smells of fear were quickly being replaced with discomfort and anger. I got an irritated whimper from nearby. “But these mudokons are total dicks, and I’m in no mood to put up with their crap.”
I growled. “Leave them alone. They’re only doing what those prick sligs are forcing them to do.”
This placated the skeptical slog. And, mercifully, the slogs left them alone.
The mudokons soon began, however hesitantly, to try and feed us some meat. I noticed several slogs accepting the food, but many others were still grumbling and whining. This was going my way, after all.
I found that I could smell the mudokons and sligs, as well as the other slogs. I could smell overwhelming terror from the mudokons and confused irritation from the sligs. And soon enough, they began to carefully climb down into the slog pen themselves.
I unleashed one loud, hideous bark, and the sligs realized all too late that they had made a mistake. The slogs immediately tore after the sligs, and a brutal scene ensued. There were only a few sligs, but they managed to shoot and kill most of the other slogs in the pen before they were taken down. In the end, there was one slog left standing in the massacre.
So I attacked it. I was blissfully larger than the remaining slog, and had torn a huge chunk out of its left flank before it knew what I was doing. It howled in pain, and fell to the dirt, writhin in agony.
I quickly transformed back to my natural body and greeted the terrified mudokons.
“All o’ ya!”
A jagged chorus of “Hello”s.
“Follow me.”
They all agreed amiably enough.
We climbed, one by one, out of the pen. After a quick glance around, I began to chant, opening a bird portal. The mudokons cheered and leapt through to safety.
After a minutes consideration, I climbed back into the pit and grabbed a gun from one of the fallen sligs. Then, with a momentary hesitation, I gathered up a pair of pants and lugged them out of the pit.
A plan was forming in my mind.
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