my fan fic SID'D ODDYSEE
this is my first fan fiction.
i will be adding more when i can find the time in my rampant schedual to write it.
this is just the start for now.
sid's oddysee
“Mudokons aren’t good with ageing”. Big face’s words echoed through Sid’s mind like ripples in a pond, and he found it hard to tell between memory and dreams.
“mudokons aren’t good with ageing” big face had said. “of all the species of oddworld, we are the most childlike, we yearn for freedom, this is why the glukkons will never win, they take our freedom, and we all know that when you take what we live for... we die, simple, we all die ... means no slaves”.
Sid smiled as he remembered these profound and synical words, and even now in these dire times they awoke a burning flame of hope inside him. Sid crossed his tiny cell and look into the window overlooking the yards. He was a young mudokon , about the human equivalent of 15, his pale green skin was dirtied from the weeks of captivity by the industrialists, and his bright orange eyes would tell a sad and wonderful story to anyone who looked into them.
Sid had spent the past two days in this tiny metallic cell, reminiscing about his past and how he had come to be in this terrible mess. He missed his old tribe; surely hundreds of miles away by now in east Mudos (he wondered if they were still angry?), and even those moments around the camp fire listening to Ernie, their chief shaman, and mazza; their master mudarcher seemed a million years ago. Then as now, a terrible fear hung over Sid, but now it was more of a selfish fear, the kind of fear you get for yourself and only for yourself. This was unusual to sid, as he was used to fearing for his own tribe, since he was training to be a shaman, a spiritual leader, and he had good reason to fear for his people since the glukkons had been creating more and more “slave caravans”, which had snatched up 3 members of Sid’s tribe in a month... including his own mother. Still, there was more to be doing now, and a much greater need for action.
In only a few weeks, Sid the mudokon had gone from being a native shaman (in training), to a fugitive terrorist, to a slave, now to a prisoner, it was no wonder why his head was spinning, and the fact that the sligs guarding his cell had a habit of tormenting him whenever being squid headed freaks just didn’t float their boats anymore, wasn’t helping. Still.. They seemed to have got bored of that lately, so Sid was given time to meditate.
Sid put his scarred back to the wall and slid down to sit on the floor, the cell was dimly lit, “perfect for meditation” he said to himself.
This would not be a pleasant experience. Thought Sid, but he needed to put his shamanic abilities to good use, he had to see how he had landed himself in this, and maybe try to mentally prepare himself for what was to come, which was bound to be, though Sid hated to admit it himself; terrible.
Still as old Mazza said one night around the bonfire with big face and Ernie. “What will happen will happen, and we will be ready for it when it does”.
HERE IS THE SECOND PART enjoy and comment ( i wana know what you think honest opinions only)
2 weeks earlier in east mudos.
Around this tiny corner of east mudos, the towns and cities of the industrial world begin to end and great expanses of buildings, factories and concrete jungles in general, give way to open plains of land, dotted with various mountains carved by water aeons ago, and after that, oceans of forests home to all manner of life can be noticed, it is here that dozens of tribes of mudokons find their home.
It was about mid-day, and on top of a large hill, just out of reach from the shadow of a nearby mountain. A mudokon tribe had set up camp.
Sid awoke in his shelter and he adjusted to the smack-in-the-face effect the natural light was having on him after being asleep for so long. It’s a little noisy for morning. He thought.
Sid stood up and stepped outside. It was a beautiful oddworld day, and the only thing to complain about was the near incessant bleating of the meeps in the mudokon-made clearing behind him. Still their meat supplies were low, and the welcome prospect of a few meeps being silenced was drawing ever closer.
“Sid”! Cried a voice from nearby, and Sid knew immediately who it was.
It was none other than zule. She was basically like Sid’s younger sister now that his mother had been captured.
Sid felt a pang of anger rise in him as he thought of his mother. But it was a new day and he knew she wouldn’t want him to worry. (Plus she’d escaped like 3 times before).
“Hi zule”! Sid said back to her. “What time is it”?
“Bout mid-day i think”
Sid was very startled. He had been late for Ernie’s lesson twice before, and Ernie was pretty uptight, even for a chief shaman.
“oh odd I’m late” sid sighed. Ernie’s going to kill me.
Zule smiled. “ i thought shaman were supposed to be mentally capable enough to get out of that sort of thing”?
“We are but we still have to worry about pissing off our teachers like everyone else”
Zule giggled. And then look suddenly alarmed.
“i forgot to tell you”! She shrieked. Another uprising not too far from here, another slig caravan was raided last night!”
It had been a long time since anyone had had the stones to attack a slig caravan. Although Sid was glad to hear it, he knew the attack must have cost some innocent lives.
“That’s great news” he said rather impatiently as he was becoming for aware that he was late. ”i’ll tell the others when i get to the dugout,”
Zule smiled again. “Bye then”
“see ya later” Sid replied as he ran off.
“The dugout” was the tribe’s name for a cave near the camp. This was a sort of rally point for all tribes to gather at whenever they had to pack up and move. It was a permanent temple located underground, Sid loved it there, dreary and damp though it was, and he found it very atmospheric, among the centuries of cave paintings and treasured relics of the mudokon people. It was a real museum of the mudokon nation, and lasting proof of their love of freedom and nature. Still when Sid arrived there he wasn’t welcomed warmly. Instead he came face to face with Ernie, who had obviously got tired of Sid’s lateness and had stayed outside to great him. Ernie was tall and slim (even for a mudokon) he wore feathers on his head and in bands on his arms and of course he was heavily donned in shamanic paints and tattoos.
“ya’ know Sid” he said mockingly. “i hope you got attacked by a scrab on the way here, that would have been a good reason to be late AGAIN”
“im sorry Earn” Sid replied for the umpteenth time this month. “I rea”-
“Go on” ... Ernie retorted “tell me you did get attacked, i swear if you make up any piss-weak story I will hit you ... i will hit a student”
Sid suppressed an award winning comeback and said. “I really am sorry Earn, I know I’m late again. I got here as fast as i could”.
Surprisingly that seemed to have soothed Ernie’s rage (last time Sid was late Ernie had threatened to sell him to a soulstorm micro-brewery, it was basically an urban legend that he had even started haggling for a price)
Ernie cleared his throat and said simply:
“Go on then get in dammit”
Sid nodded and proceeded through the clearing in the woods and down the “steps” into the permanent temple that was “the dugout”.
The tunnels were so familiar to Sid that he could have navigated them blindfolded. This was good since one could usually only see in “the dugout” by candlelight. But Sid knew the passages well enough. Sid pushed aside a curtain and came at lat to a great hall, carvings and paintings covered every surface and of course it was a haven for those particular natives that detested tomahawks. All the shaman were busy studying story stones, growing spooce and of course; meditating and chanting (occasionally both of these at the same time, which was very amusing).
Sid took a spot next to Marty; they had known each other their whole life and shared a passion for this kind of thing.
“heya mart” sid said.
Marty spun round; he was muscular and slightly taller than Sid, with a swirling tattoo on his torso.
“Dude”! He replied in a raised voice... which he then stifled to a whisper. “Did you hear the news”?
“If you mean the attack on the slig caravan then yeah”. Sid told him.
“This is big man”! Marty replied in the usual tone, which always made Sid chuckle.
“It’s just another uprising” Sid said shrugging off Marty’s exaggeration. “You know how it works, they come we attack em, they come we attack em, it’s been the same for years”.
“You of all people should think a little better of those freedom fighters man”! Marty retorted. Sid felt another pang of anger. Marty of course was referring to sid’s mother being kidnapped.
“Hey listen man I’m sorry” Marty said, he obviously knew what Sid was thinking.
“It’s alright it’s alright”! Sid assured him. “And your right, I’m behind em all the way”.
“You keep this to yourself ok”? Marty leaned closer to Sid and they spoke quietly for the next couple of minutes, Sid growing more and more shocked by the moment.
By the end of the conversation Sid could hardly believe his ears. From what he had gathered Marty was either playing a very unfunny joke, or he had gone completely out of his mind.
“Marty”... Sid began but he was cut across.
“It’s true”! Marty snapped. “An uprising!, all the muds are bandin’ together!, i don’t know about you but I’m with em; they say there gonna take out the glukkon base camp over the other side of the river!”. He struggled to contain his excitement. “They’re coming here!”. Sid was used to Marty saying some very eccentric things, hell the whole tribe were. But this was a new one. There was “over the top” and then there was completely sloggin’ crazy, and this was definitely the latter.
“Proud of me”? Marty asked triumphantly to Sid’s blank face. Sid could have screamed at him. But instead he just grabbed Marty at the shoulders.
“Marty”, Sid began. He knew full well Marty could have floored him easily, but he had to be brought to his senses. “Marty, you’re talking about joining a terrorist organisation”! Sid found it hard to keep his voice at a whisper and other shaman we turning from their work to try and eavesdrop, but they returned to their posts when Sid gave them all a hard stare. Marty looked immediately annoyed. “A second ago it was all “ i support em all the way” and now you wanna stop me from joining em?” Sid knew it would be hard to convince his friend, so he let go of Marty for fear of facing a smack in the mouth.
“Oh and don’t call em “terrorists”. Marty continued. “They’re risking their lives for us all man”!
Sid’s heart was pounding with fear. He couldn’t bare the thought of what would happen if the industrialists found this tribe harbouring fugitives. “Marty. You’d throw your lot in with them”? Sid explained. “And bring the sligs down on us? Are you insane”?
“My cousin Sid”! Marty shouted so that nearly everyone in the dugout main hall turned to see what had caused the noise. “They got my cousin!”.
“w-what”? Sid began.
“My cousin!, he got picked up by a slave caravan! He was ten man!”.
And with that Marty had stormed out before Sid could say another word. Ernie, who had gone came in a few seconds ago almost fell over as Marty pushed past him. And Sid almost didn’t notice that everyone was staring at him like he might burst into flames any second. So he just sighed and followed Marty out of the cave.
Crap. Sid thought as he smacked hard into a wall in his attempt to run after Marty. But in his defence he had good reason to have stormed out like that. Sid was only complacent about his mothers capture is that she was so good at escaping. But a ten year old didn’t fare as well.
Even a few moments in the dugout was enough to have made sid’s eyes very unused to light, and he squinted as the blinding light of the woods hit him.
Sid found himself at the entrance to the dugout. And there in front of him was Marty, with his head in his hands.
Sid went up and sat beside Marty on the forest floor, it felt like an eternity passed between them.
Finally Sid said. “I had no idea”.
“i won’t lose him Sid”. Marty replied quietly, he looked diminished right now.
“I know how you feel” sid said. “But mum was always good at escaping”.
Sid knew that they were going to have to stop living in fear sometime, but he was always scared. This is no time for fear. He thought.
“So what’s your idea”? Sid asked him.
Marty looked up. “All the slaves caravans end up at the glukkon’s base camp, we’re gonna break in a free the all the slaves we can find”.
Sid knew there was no stopping him. And they would have to stop living in fear sometime. Deep down they all knew, the whole tribe knew.
“ok..ok” he said eventually. "I’m coming with you".
more parts coming soon.
__________________
Arise O Man in thy strength. The kingdom is thine to inherit!
Last edited by shaman; 01-18-2009 at 11:41 AM..
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