The Good Slig Chronicles

[Latamire_Munch]

Hey everybody, I have just started my first Oddworld fanfiction and this is going to be it. This is just a brief summary and character statistics part, then on with the chronicles!


Part one- Trask's Story

Trask was a young, unexperienced slig who never saw action. Until his life explodes (literally) and forces him to live his life in the unknown wilderness of Oddworld.

Name- Trask
Species- Slig
Occupation- Bouncer
Age- 2
Summary- He's never actually seen a Mudokon before, was never like his bad slig buddies. He works in an empty hallway, pacing back and forth.

Part two- Drogin's Story

Drogin was a slig born with a midget deformity. He was to be killed for this but a desperate Glukkon hired him. Raised never knowing there was an outside world, abused physically and mentally every day and worked almost to death, Drogin runs away into the unknown wilderness of Oddworld.

Name- Drogin
Species-Slig
Occupation- Slacker, does "Mudokon" work
Age-6
Summary- explained enough in story summary

Part three- Harc's story

Harc was a Big Bro Slig and a 'gentle giant'. He never beat Mudokons or killed anything in his life, this caused his employer to not kill him, but cast him off into the wilderness of Oddworld.

Name-Harc
Species-Big Bro Slig
Occupation- Big Bro Slig
Age-12
Summary- Harc loved the simpler things of life. If it wasn't for his fear of his boss, he would set all the Mudokons in his watch free.

Final part- Untitled at this point

Our three good sligs find each other in Oddworld. This is their story, their life together as friends. What will happen when they encounter Mudokon villages or wildlife? Well, you'll just have to wait and see won't you!

[tybie_odd]

Sounds like a good start. I love slig stories

[Latamire_Munch]

Trask was a slig who worked in the SoulStorm Brewery. He was a young bouncer; patiently waiting for his day to become an armored popper and never in his life had seen action. He had only been working (and living) for two years. He spent his free time around more experienced bouncers and poppers, learning how to gamble, lie and sleep without being seen by the Glukkons. Even though he listened to what his "brothers" taught him, he never actually believed in them. He patrolled an almost always deserted hallway near the boilers of the brewery. He admitted to himself a few times, it was boring, but no matter how much he wanted to sleep, he was afraid that he might get caught and fired before his career even began.

Trask had never in his life seen a Mudokon. He knew nothing of them being brainwashed into working. He thought they were hired help, like him. Since he wasn't assigned to Mudokon guarding, he thought he would never have to see one. Until the night fate decided to change Trask's life forever.

He had heard rumors before throughout his brethren about a rouge blue-skinned Mudokon named Abe. The other sligs told him that that Abe guy broke into the brewery and was somehow freeing all the Mudokon slaves.

"They're slaves?" Trask had asked one of them.

"Of course, dimwit, what did you think they were." And he walked away laughing leaving Trask to his strange feelings.

The sligs also told him that they were worried Abe was going to destory the brewery, just like Rupture Farms. Trask remembered hearing about the incident at the meat processing plant, and remembering that story made him get a little worried as well.

Oh, right, back to the 'life-changing' night. Trask was doing his normal rounds in his empty hallway when a "thump" came from behind his back. He turned to see a funny looking blue creature standing nervously in the doorway.

"Hey!" he called out to him, but before the words could escape his -uh - tentacle thingies, the creature jumped up to the platform above. Trask followed him from underneath, but lost track when he crept into the boiler room. Trask peeked inside to see the Brewmaster, mastering brew. He couldn't see the blue creature anymore, but suddenly, the boilers' gauges started going into the red zone. Trask wasn't sure, but he figured red meant bad. The boilers started to rumble as the Brewmaster turned and cried, "It's not fair! We had twice the flavor!"

Then the boilers burst in a fiery explosion. A part of one of the boiler's walls broke loose, flipped and hit Trask. With his raspy voice screaming as loud as he could, the explosion made him and the metal slab fly out of the brewery, into the sky.

To be continued..

[Mac the Janitor]

This sounds like it's gonna get good. I like those little bio things you did at the top, telling us their background and shtuff. Keep it up; I want to hear more.

[tybie_odd]

This is getting pretty interesting.
I'm hooked! Write more, please .

[Latamire_Munch]

Trask was very lucky. The wall of the boiler protected him from the fire and also worked as a transportation device sending him deep into the wilderness of Oddworld. He landed in a tree, unharmed and feeling quite strange about what happened. Where was the brewery? He’d never been outside of it before. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen the outside world until now.

Trask tried to move, but this caused the branch that held him to break and send him to the ground. Suddenly, the metal slab fell SPLAT! right on top of him. He pushed it off and shook his head.

“Ow.” He muttered.

Trask turned his head and scanned the area. It was a lush forest with trees and vines hanging down and bushes of flowers and berries. Suddenly a strange creature walked out near Trask. It was a little smaller than the slig and had finger-like lips. It screeched at him and Trask put his hands up in defense.

“It’s okay little guy! Don’t hurt me.” Trask slowly stood up and began to walk in the other direction. The thing followed. He turned and noticed it was the creature they used in Paramite Pies in Rupture Farms.

“Paramite, huh?” he said to himself.

Trask walked further and the Paramite followed, chittering at him. Finally, Trask turned around and yelled at the thing, “What do you want?!”

All of the sudden, the one Paramite was joined by two others. They screeched in unison and charged at Trask. The slig ran as fast as his mechanical legs could carry him. The Paramites were gaining, Trask wasn’t fast enough. In a desperate attempt to escape, Trask jumped and climbed up a tree. And that’s where he sat, with squealing Paramites pacing around the trunk of the tree, the sun set, and it was night.

You will find out what happens to Trask later. The next installment- Part two- Drogin's Story.

[tybie_odd]

Alright! This is great. Keep it up!

[Joshy]

omg... these are the most enticing stories i've ever heard, did anyone tell you, you could become an author?

[Latamire_Munch]

Drogin was a slig who worked for a Glukkon named Teelk. Drogin was a good worker, he obeyed his master and never did anything to upset him. But Teelk was always upset with him, not because of Drogin’s work habits, but because of his deformity. (flashback sound) Drogin had been born as a midget. Skillya, the slig queen, demanded that the runt be terminated immediately. But as she gave this command, a desperate Glukkon came looking to hire sligs.

“I need some, badly, maybe about ten or more!” Teelk had said to the Glukkon in charge of hiring sligs.

“Hey, ever since this Abe guy’s been goin’ around and ruining the business, sligs are in high demand! We don’t got no more!”

Teelk noticed the tiny little slig grub and said, “What about that one?”

“It’s deformed, we’re going to kill it.”

“No,” Teelk stopped him, “I’ll take it, a small slig is better than no slig.”

The Glukkon shrugged, trying not to laugh at the poor shmuck. “Alright, take him.”

While being followed by the midget slig, Teelk felt embarrassed as all the other Glukkons laughed and pointed at him. Teelk rushed onto the train, making it hard for the pantless slig to keep up.

As they reached Teelk’s factory-in-progress, Teelk showed the slig his new home. A small room with three sleeping bags inside.

Teelk called, “Crank! Get ova’ here and get this newbie a bag, pants and a mask.”

“Yessir!” Crank replied.

As Crank turned to see the new slig, he cried, “Woah! What’s wrong with him, boss?”

“He’s a runt. We’ll call him Drogin. Now do as I said!”

The big metal door was shut, locking Drogin inside. It was completely dark. He couldn’t see a thing. Drogin jumped as the door was swung open again. Crank threw in a sleeping bag, a mask and a bucket of pants parts along with an instruction manual.

Before Crank shut the door again, he told Drogin that the normal pants were to big for his puny body, so he had to make his own. Drogin reached for his mask, stuck his snout through and put it over his eyes. He could see now. It was all red, but at least he could see. He hung his sleeping bag next to the others and began to look at the instruction manual for his pants.

After a full day of working on nothing but putting his pants together, he finally finished. Leaning the pants against a wall helped him climb in easier. It was a comfortable fit. He hooked the wires from his mask to the pants so he could control them with his mind. Drogin was wobbly at first, but soon got used to the artificial legs. Suddenly, the door swung open and hit Drogin, knocking him back out of his pants. Crank and two other sligs walked in.

“Holy crap, he is small.” One said.

The other just laughed and pointed.

Crank shook his head and took down Drogin’s sleeping bag and hung it on the other side of the room.

“Grubs sleep over here.” He chuckled.

Then he and the other two went to sleep in their own bags.

To be continued…

[sO fReAkIn oDd]

I must say, you are a very, very talented writer. It implements very nice in-game moments and also keeps it's own originality. Keep up this story.

[Latamire_Munch]

Thanks for all your feedback guys! It makes me want to write more and more!

After a few years with Teelk and his team of three sligs and five Mudokon slaves, Drogin was still treated the same way. Crank and the other two sligs, Thol and Minoc continuously picked on him, beat him up or any other bad thing they could conjure up. Teelk was still embarrassed to be seen with the midget, so he put him down with the Mudokons, doing their work. The first day Drogin went down for his first day of work, the Mudokons were actually afraid of him. But when they saw him doing the work they were doing, their fear resided and they became acquainted with each other.

“Hey,” one Mudokon had called, “slig, why are you down here cleaning and building this rotten place with us?”

Drogin looked at them with a bit of pity for them and his own self. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he managed to mumble out, “Because I’m a tiny slig.”

“Yeah, that’s just like a Glukkon,” another said, “if something looks bad on their appearance, they give it to the Mudokons.”

Drogin cocked his head, these Mudokons were used to being slaves.

“So, tiny slig, what’s your name?”

He turned his head back to his job at painting the walls on that floor and said softly, “I’m Drogin.”

After six years of being tortured by Crank and his buddies and being hated by his master, Drogin became good friends with the Muds. After work, they would all take a break and play games, share stories and tell jokes. Drogin would hear so many stories about how Abe destroyed Rupture farms and recently SoulStorm Brewery. The Muds talked about wishing to be saved by Abe, and going back to their native life.

“Do you…” Drogin paused.

“What is it, bud?”

“Do you think I could come to? I mean, to the native life and all. Because I don’t like it here.” Drogin felt stupid asking the Mudokons this.

Each of the scrubs looked at each other as one shrugged and said, “I guess. You’re nice, you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Hey! What’s goin’ on in here?!” Crank yelled entering the room. “This place was supposed to me cleaned and painted an hour ago! You slackers!” Crank lifted his gun and hit a Mudokon hard in the head.

“No, Crank! Don’t!” Drogin called after him, but Crank just turned and hit him with his gun.

“You getting soft on these scrubs, Drogin? You never learn do you.” Then the slig turned back to the Mudokon and shot him. “Now ya got more to clean up.” And he walked out laughing.

Drogin stared into the Mudokon corpse. He couldn’t understand it. One minute, he was telling Drogin that they were all going to be saved, now his friend was dead, gone forever. The other Muds turned their glaring eyes onto Drogin.

“This is all your fault!” one hissed.

“You’re gonna pay!” growled another.

“No, guys, it was an accident, I tried-“ before he could get anything else out, the Mudokons attacked him, slapping and punching. They wouldn’t listen! He had to get away! So he ran.

Drogin ran out of the room and headed for the exit, passing Crank, Thol and Minoc.

“Hey, where’s he goin” Minoc questioned.

Thol was about to give chase, but Crank stepped in his way. “Ah let him go. One less twerp we gotta worry about.”

“Uh, I thought that was the only twerp.” Minoc told Crank, getting confused.

Crank just gave an aggravated sigh and said, “Shut up.”

Drogin ran and ran into the outside world he never knew. He ran until he could run no more. He turned and saw that Teelk’s factory was no where in sight. He had run that far. Finally, he collapsed in the tall grass, not knowing what to do and he fell into unconsciousness.

Next installment- Part three- Harc’s story

[Splat]

This story is great, or is it stories, i hope you drag this out a bit longer. hey, wouldnt thoses sligs get in truble for killin ad loosin slaves, maybe U should rite that bac in!

[Mac the Janitor]

Man, I love this story. I can't even describe why--I just love it. Please keep writing; you're one of the best writers I've seen here.

[Latamire_Munch]

Thanks so much guys, I feel so special. Splat, about your question, Crank will be in the story later, but his punishment for killing slaves will not be mentioned. Crank, did get in trouble if anyone was wanting to know, but he explained to Teelk that the Mud wasn't doing his job and after a while Teelk forgot about it.





Harc was a Big Bro Slig, trained from birth to be strong, ruthless and sinister. But deep in his dense mind, he never followed the ways of his Sliggie brethren. For some odd reason, he was never cruel, he was never violent; in fact, he was just the opposite. In his brain, he followed the simpler ways of life, the more beautiful or gentle. Figuring Harc was just a heartless, bloodthirsty Big Bro, his employer, Lised, put him in charge of a group of twenty Mudokon scrubs.

In their first meeting, the Mudokons were so afraid of the big lug, that all they wanted to do was cower in fear. Hating the feeling of being feared, Harc quickly made them realize that he was harmless.

“Hey guys!” he exclaimed, “I’m Harc.”

The Mudokons exchanged confused looks and one spoke up, “You’re not gonna beat on us?”

“Heck no.” he laughed. “You guys thirsty? You’ve been working for a long time.”

The Muds smiled and said together, “Yea!”

Harc felt good when he befriended the Muds and served them drinks. The Mudokons knew something was wrong with Harc. He was a nice slig. Nice and slig two words that usually didn’t belong in the same sentence now describing this pile of muscle and steroids. They figured he was too dense to soak in all that training. Harc wasn’t very smart, perhaps one of the dumbest sligs to have been in their presence.

After years used to Harc’s loose rope on them, the Muds began to look forward to his watch. They’d suffer half the day with different slig guards, then have a satisfying break when Harc lumbered along.

“Hey Muddies!” he would say, “Get it! Mudokons plus buddies equals Muddies!” and burst into laughter.

“Uh, yea Harc, good one.” They would respond sarcastically, knowing Harc would never figure out their smart aleck replies.

“You guys look tired, why dontcha take a nap. I’ll make sure no one sees you.”

“Gee, thanks Harc.” The Muds cried happily and took a quick snooze on the cold metallic floor.

Harc’s happy-go-lucky attitude never faltered, until he was called to a meeting with his boss. He joined his slig troop of forty bouncers and poppers armored or unarmored and a few other Big Bro’s. Their boss Glukkon was at the head of the room and he spoke, “There have been rumors of a unnamed slig being nice to scrubs. Serving them drinks, allowing them to take naps.” Harc looked around nervously as whispers grew among the crowd.

The boss continued, “Because of this, I have decided to assign all of you a partner. If you see your partner doing anything nice to a Mudokon, report him immediately. Remember, if we lose our power over them, they can overthrow us. We must keep the fear in them. I will now assign you to your partners.”

To be continued.

[tybie_odd]

Wowee! This is some really great, great stuff! I hope there are more fanfics after this one! I love all these chars, and your writing style is supurb! Keep it comin'!

[Latamire_Munch]

Harc ended up being partnered with an armored popper slig named Illik. Illik was a pure slig through and through. Cold hearted, brutal and trigger-happy. When the Mudokons saw Harc with this new slig, they didn’t know what to do. While Illik wasn’t looking, Harc gestured to them to keep working.

“Ah,” Illik sighed, “Mudokon guarding is easy. Goodnight, I’m takin’ a nap.” He leaned back against a wall and fell asleep.

“Hey, Harc,” one of the Mudokons whispered, “What’s up? Why did we get stuck with this loser?”

“It was the boss’s idea. Hopefully this guy will sleep the days away. I can still be your friend.”

The Mud shrugged, “Eh, just be careful, or it’ll be your head.”

Harc patted his friend’s shoulder, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Suddenly, Harc felt a cold, hard shaft being pressed into his back. A voice hissed, “Hands up.”

The Mudokon ducked as Harc raised his arms. Illik had him at gunpoint, he wasn’t sleeping at all, he was spying.

“I knew it was you!” He said, “I just had to catch you. Let’s go, you’re goin’ to the boss.”

As Illik led Harc out, the Muds looked at each other and one said, “Well, what now?”

“Clean floors?”

“Mmm, okay.” And they cleaned their floors.


“You’re such a wuss!” Illik insulted Harc on their way to the boss’s office. “I can’t believe a big guy like you, bein’ a softie.”

Harc stayed silent and they walked into the office. “I caught him sir, the jerk who’s been givin’ the scrubs a vacation.”

The sinister Glukkon glared at Harc for a while. Finally, he spoke, “I’m very disappointed Harc. You had a lot of things going for you. Luckily for you, I’m too lazy to take you to Skillya. So how ‘bout you get outta here. I never want to see you in this place again.”

The Big Bro hesitated and turned slowly and walked out.

“Boss! Are you sure, just one shot and I got ‘im!” Illik complained.

The Gluk laughed, “He’ll be in more pain out in the middle of nowhere! He’s so dumb, he won’t last for three days!”

Finally getting it, Illik laughed along with his master until the boss yelled, “Get back to work!”


Harc took his first steps into Oddworld and he was already totally confused. Where was he supposed to go? How was he supposed to survive? He kept walking as he thought about these things. He thought so hard that his head started to hurt. He walked for hours and the sun began to set. Suddenly, he saw something in the grass. It wasn’t moving but Harc couldn’t help his self, his curiosity got the best of him and he walked up to the whatever-it-was.

Next installment- Final Part – Lost in Oddworld

[Joshy]

This story is sooo interesting, keep up the good work

[tybie_odd]

Make it long! I want it to last and last!

[Latamire_Munch]

Harc found a tiny slig in the grass. He was passed out. His breathing was slow and ragged. Harc reached down and shook him.

“Hey, little guy, you okay?” he said with a shaky voice.

The slig didn’t move.

Harc began to get worried, so he picked him up and carried him towards the forest that lay in front of him. He carried him all the way to a pond, where Harc splashed water onto the itty bitty slig’s face. Slowly, he woke. He used all of his strength to lift his head and get a view of his savior. He was huge, compared to him.

In a gentle voice, the big guy said, “I’m Harc, what’s your name?”

Drogin cocked his head and replied, “Drogin.”

“Hi, Drogin. Whatcha doin’ out here?”

“Erm,….I kind of ran away. It’s a long story.”

Suddenly, the two sligs heard a rustling in the grass. They turned and saw three Paramites pacing around a tree trunk. As they walked closer and they saw big ol’ Harc, the little creatures ran away.

“Hey!” called a voice from above.

Harc looked up and whispered, bewildered, “Odd??”

“No, stupid! In the tree!”

Harc looked in the tree and saw a slig sitting up there. “Oh, hi! Need help?”

“Yea, big guy, I’m jumpin’ down, you catch me!”

“Okay.”

The slig leapt from his tree and landed in the Big Bro’s arms. Harc let him down as he said, “I’m Harc and this is- Hey! Where’s the little guy?”

“Little guy?”

“Drog! Drogin!”

“I’m here!” called a squeaky yet raspy voice from the tall grass.

“Woah, he is little. I’m Trask and I’m guessing you are Drogin and I know this big guy’s Harc.”

“Yea, that’s right.” Drogin said stepping out of the grass.

“So what are you guys doing out here? Did you guys come from the brewery to save me?”

“Brewery?” Drogin asked, “How long have you been in that tree?”

“’Bout three days.”

“I thought SoulStorm Brewery exploded.” Harc said, confused.

“It did.” Drogin explained.

“Ack!” Trask grabbed his chest, “Oh, well, didn’t like working there much anyways. So gentle-sligs, where to now?”

To be continued

[tybie_odd]

....you deserve a medal for these fics.

[The Red Muse]

... Well. Eh... What should I say about your fics...?
Sorry, can't find the right word to describe your talent.
Wanna know why?
Because, there is no such word.
So I'll just have to put it in the informal way;
*stands up to a table and yells* Gsus, you ROCK!
*comes down, w Elvis voice* Thank you. Thank you very much.
*flies away into the cold, dark abyss of the internet*

-The Red Muse

[Facsimile]

Before I comment, I would like to state that this post is in NO WAY, an agreement between me and Latamire Munch where we read each others fanfics.
Now getting to the point.
It is very good as the others have said (you lucky bastard, people read your stories) and I can't wait until your next chapter. Are they gonna take down those who abused them? I suppose only you know...
By the way I did mean that.

[Splat]

Wow, thats good. keep it up. Will drogin ever join wild mudokons? And wouldn't that guy be thiesty after 3 days up a tree? A human would be close to death! But its probably different with sligs. Cant wait for more.

[Latamire_Munch]

Our three heroes wandered around Mudos, lost, confused and hopeless. They knew they had no where to go. They were always used to being told what to do, now they had to make difficult decisions by themselves. After hours of walking, Harc’s stomach began to grumble.

“Hey, guys, I think I’m hungry.” He whimpered.

“You think or are you sure?” Trask chuckled.

Drogin crossed his arms and sighed, “We do need food, I’m getting hungry as well.”

“Well, what do we do?” the medium-sized slig replied.

“We’re going to have to find food of our own. Let’s go back to the river we saw a mile back, maybe we can catch fish.”

“Oh, great, that’s number one on my menu.” Trask said dryly.

“Well, would you like to starve?”

“Fish it is!”

The flowing water was a dark, murky green. It had long weeds and plants popping out of its rippling surface. The sligs noticed whenever an insect landed on the water, a fish would poke his mouth out to gobble it up.

“How are we gonna catch those fish?” Harc asked.

Suddenly, as Trask came to walk closer to the bank, he tripped on something. “What the-?” He lifted the interweaving rope up.

“It’s a-a net!” Drogin exclaimed.

“I guess a gabbit net?” Trask said pulling the net taught. “We can use this!”

“It’s perfect!” Harc cried happily.

“Harc,” Drogin called, “you’re the biggest, take one end of the net into the stream, Trask and I will hold this end and we’ll catch fish inside.”

“Alright.” He agreed and took his end into the stream.

Only after a few minutes, the net was already getting too heavy to hold. Harc pulled it onto the bank. It was packed with little silver fishies. Suddenly, a voice came from the net. “Hey! Lemme go, you jerks!”

The sligs exchanged funny glances as they opened the net. In the middle of the fish sat a little bluish creature with one foot.

“What is that?!” Drogin exclaimed.

“What do you think I am? I’m a gabbit!” he growled, “And you’re not taking me to that awful Vykkers Labs!”

To be continued.

(finally I got over my writer’s block!! Hallelujah!!!)

[Canned Gabbiar]

Well... I must say, this is excellent! Superb! Bonus est! Anyway, I would have liked that last installment to be a little more descriptive but anyway, keep up the grand work!!

[Latamire_Munch]

“Vykker’s Labs?” Drogin questioned.

Trask stepped out, “I’ve heard about that! It’s a new lab where they make medicine and stuff of that sort.”

“We’re not gonna take you there, little gabbit.” Harc said with a comforting tone, “What’s your name?”

The gabbit felt quite strange conversing with three sligs, “Um, I’m Spark, who are you guys?”

“I’m Trask, pleasure to meet you, that short stuff is Drogin, and the big dude’s Harc.”

“You’re sligs and you’re not going to take me away?”

Trask laughed, “Ha, that’s kind of a funny story. You see we’re kind of like rebels, we don’t like working for the gluks anymore. Drog here ran away, Harc was banished and I, well, I was shot out of the Brewery. I was never really into all that sligish stuff, I’m also still in my prime-“

“Trask,” Drogin sighed, “I believe he gets the point.”

After a while of talking, the four strange companions made a small fire, cooked their fish and went on telling each other stories. Drogin just finished stuffing the last strip of meat from his fish into his mouth when he felt the forest floor starting to rumble. Drogin looked around frantically but saw nothing. Just then, the rumbling got worse and everyone else felt it as well.

“What’s that?!” Spark squealed.

“I-I don’t know!” Trask replied as he stood and scanned the forest.

Suddenly, a large mechanical monster forced its way through the trees to get to the sligs’s and the gabbit’s campsite. It was a shiny chrome thing with four tree crushing legs, two long arms with scooping claws on each end and on the head sat a giggling Vykker.

“Gah!” Spark screamed, “The Vykkers have found us!”

“Stop where you are!” the squeaky voice of the Vykker echoed through the forest, “What are you three sligs doing out here?”

One claw reached for Drogin. Spark quickly hopped and pushed him out of the way, causing the claw to pick the little gabbit up.

“No! Spark!”

“Go!” Spark yelled, “Run! Before he catches you! Don’t worry about me! This was bound to happen! Now go!!”

Drogin couldn’t take his eyes off of the gabbit sacrificing his life for them. Wasn’t there something he could do? Harc picked Drogin up and took off away from the giant robot with Trask not far behind.

To be continued…

[Canned Gabbiar]

A very suspenseful end to that installment. Keep it up... and add more metaphorical etc. description hehe... I like that kind of stuff. BONUS EST~!

[Latamire_Munch]

((the reason it is not as descriptive is because I’m still suffering from writer’s block and I’m forcing myself to write))

Luckily, for the sligs, the big machine was slow. It lumbered along giving them a head start. They ran and ran hoping to lose the Vykker’s monstrosity. Their thoughts and hopes plummeted when they reached the edge of a cliff. There was no where to run, no where to hide. They were captured.

“Well guys,” Trask sighed, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We’ll probably die.” Drogin knew exactly what Trask meant.

“At least we’ll die protecting our freedom right?”

Drogin spoke in a fearful whisper, “Yea.”

“Well, if we don’t make it, I guess this is goodbye.”

“Why? What are we doing?” Harc started shaking with fear.

“Going the only way to go.” Drogin looked down into the abyss.

Harc gulped, “Jump?!”

“Bingo.” Trask mumbled.

Suddenly, the Vykker’s machine crashed through the trees behind them.

“It’s now or never!” Trask called out to them, “It was nice knowing you.”

“I’m glad we were friends.” Drogin replied.

“We’re really jumping?” Harc whimpered, “Well, I guess I’m going for it if you all are. I’ll see you later…no wait, no I won’t.” The Big Bro dropped his head and prepared himself to jump.

“On the count of three,” Trask said sadly, “One,” the machine rumbled closer, “Two,” each of them closed their eyes, “Three, GO!” And they leapt, plummeting towards an unknown grave.

Is this the end for our heroes? Yes it is…..well, I don’t know, let me talk to the little green guy with the typewriter in my head. (I wanna grow up to be a necromancer…….*giggles insanely and plays with skeleton doll*)

[Splat]

AHHHHHHHHHHH, THERE ALL GONNA DIE!
well, we'll die free sligs, or die trying!
Are those the only options?!
Hey, thats pretty good, I should write it down and use it in one of my stories!

[Latamire_Munch]

Trask remembered the fall. He felt weightless and his stomach was up to his throat. He fell until he hit rushing water and he hit it hard. He was knocked into unconsciousness. That’s all he remembered, it had happened so fast. When he woke, it was dark and he washed up on a riverbank. His entire body ached and he had a terrible throbbing headache. Harc and Drogin were nowhere to be seen.

With a weak voice he called their names, but there was only the echo of howling wildlife in the distance that answered him. He balanced his body on his mechanical legs and stood up. His arms felt as if they were about to fall of and his head felt like it was about to explode. But he had to find his friends. He began to walk down the riverbank, hoping they washed up as well. Suddenly, he noticed something lying near the river. He walked up to it and noticed it was a pair of small pants. Drogin’s pants. He picked them up and looked around for the little guy, but still no sign. He called his name, but still no answer. Trask sighed heavily and continued his search.

Being alone made him think. ‘Why did I end up here?’ he thought to himself, ‘Was it destiny that I happened to get shot out of the brewery? Maybe it’s just luck? I hate being alone, it’s too quiet. I’m tired, I should rest.’ Then the poor lonely slig sat and leaned against a tree and began to hum a tune. He hummed until he hummed himself to sleep.

When Trask woke, it was daylight once again. He stood up, with Drogin’s pants still under one arm, and continued his search. Only after a few miles of walking, he noticed the ground was getting sandier and the air was getting saltier. He walked up a dune of sand and saw something that just took his breath away. Water. The biggest pond he ever saw. It reached as far as the eye could see and had white peaks that rushed to the bank and then was sucked back in only to do it again. Orange colored sand joined with this body of water. The water was crystal clear and shimmering. Trask had never seen anything so beautiful. In the distance, in the water, he saw a small island. He could barely hear it, but he heard his name being called from it. He walked closer, to the water’s edge and made out a bulky figure.

“Has to be Harc!” Trask said to himself and called his name. “Harc!! Harc buddy!! I’m coming over there!!”

Trask heard a faint, “No no! Don’t!” but ignored it and put Drogin’s legs on the beach and used his back float that saved his life in the river. The island was farther than he thought. How did Harc get out there? It took him a long while, but he made it. He climbed up on the grassy mound and caught his breath.

“I told you not to come!” Harc yelled at him.

“Hey! I have to help you get off this island!”

“That’s what I mean,” Harc said in a fearful tone, “This is no island!”

The two turned and saw three eggs, bigger than Harc.

To be continued…..