Return of Dante's Oddysee

[Dave]

Author's Note:

I don't know how many people here remember (it was almost a year ago) when I had a story here on OWF.
I have been gone a while--Senior year was a bastard. Then I spent May in the hospital with a broken leg and collarbone, because some asshole didn't see me crossing the street ...
But anywho, I've recieved word from a fan who liked my little tale, which ended before it had even reached a halfway point.
I would like to acknowledge the following people: T-Nex, Abe’s Son, VaniLLahKiLLah, Clairebear, Esus, WiLL the Wander, Killa_47, and Munch's Master, who reminded me I had a story to tell. These people have appreciated my work since it began, and I want to thank them most wholeheartedly.
To read the original thread, click the link above. I've provided a somewhat detailed summary here:

Dante is a mudokon worker at a food proccessing plant called Tastee Treets. He learns of a money saving plan the Glukkons have through a psychic phenomenon called the Winks. The plan involved buying extra mudokons which cost more but yield more meat for the stock animals, so less quantities are needed. The mudokons currently working were to be converted into a test product on the animals.
Dante stages a fabulous escape in which he loses an arm to a meat grinder, slips into the plumbing through a dismantled glukkon toilet, and faces ravenous fleeches in the sewer system before reaching the outlet, where he sees the Big Moon with the mudokon paw on its face. It is here that he is shot, and he falls into the river under him, dead.
Luckily, his body, like Abe's, transforms into a flock of birds, which travel the land to a safe haven mudokon village, Rotag. Here he meets Orion, a spiritual mudokon leader, who gives Dante an earring that allows him to harness the powers of ancient paramites, scrabs, sligs, slogs, interns, gabbits, vykkers, and glukkons by borrowing their bodies. But to activate these powers, he must find each totem that represents the Wise Ones of Old.
He traveled to Oblim, a nearby town that was devoid of color and filled by depressed mudokons. After bringing "Happy" to these muds and flooding color on their world, he obtained the power of Arid the Paramite.
After an uneventful ferry across the Norchan river, he reached Muto, the windy land of darkness. He used Arid's power to navigate through the eerily dark forest, and found Trid, which was plagued by torrential downpours, and battling scrabs. Thankfully, he manages to obtain the power of Cicatrize the Scrab, and emerges triumphant.
We now find him in Theaw, a native slig settlement that was overtaken by slig forces searching for Dante. He is leading an attack on invading forces, and things look as if they are about to go wrong ...

And, at long last, here is Chapter 27.

I spun around and there it was: treachery in my face.
Benedict was pointing a gun at me.
“Okay, you slime, cut the act. It’s time to walk.”
I was dumbstruck. How could I have been so profoundly stupid? Of course Benedict was a spy. Giving me a “promotion,” following my commands, even letting some of the sligs get killed ... all to lull me into a false sense of security.
“Benedict,” I began, but he clouted me across the face.
“Don’t speak, worm. I need to call Vladimir. He’ll be quite happy to find that I’ve captured Dante the Mudokon.”
Oh, boy, this was turning out to be worse than I expected. These guys weren’t here, to kill me, after all. They were going to bring me in and give me to Vladimir for torture and then murder.
Inspiration struck. But I had to distract Benedict for the time being.
“So, this was all a trick?” I said, almost conversationally. Meanwhile, I sent a frantic message to Patch.
{PATCH! Round up everyone you can find that knows how to fight!}
A sense of annoyance, and then: {Well, hello to you, too. I hope you know what you’re interrupting, here.}
And suddenly, I did. And I understood that native, wild-born mudokons were not the spawn of Queen Sam within the same thought. I’ll leave you to interpret that as you will.
Meanwhile, Benedict was chattering as the other sligs gathered around. “Of course! We were indeed deployed before you were shot, but someone lost the message for us to come back to the barracks after you were seen falling into the river.”
I nodded, pretending to listen, and began apologizing to Patch. {I’m really sorry, but this is my life on the line! I need warriors! There is an army of sligs!}
Patch sent an inner sigh, and he agreed. I felt bad for interrupting him and whomever he was with, but I felt worse about my well-being just then.
{How long, do you think?}
{Gimme fifteen minutes. Can you wait that long?}
I suppressed a moan. It didn’t look like it.
{Yeah, no sweat.} But I guess I couldn’t lie; he sensed my thoughts and emotions as well as I sensed his.
He didn’t reply, but I felt his presence leave my mind.
“Okay,” I said. “What’s Vladimir paying you for this, Benny ol’ buddy?”
Another clout to the head, and things went dark.

I came to in the middle of a big fight. Mudokons were clubbing all the sligs without armor, shooting at those with armor, and generally making life unpleasant for all.
{Patch, I owe you big for this favor,} I told him. He didn’t reply, but I could tell he forgave me. That’s fine.
I was bound and gagged in the back of a rail car. All I could do was watch the carnage. But most of the fighting had subsided by the time I awoke. There were many dead sligs, and few dead mudokons. They were winning!
Several tomahawkers noticed me and ran over. One removed the gag while the others worked to untie the ropes.
“Dante, buddy, you feeling okay?” one asked.
I took a quick assessment of my body. Everything was in working order ... and it had also returned to mudokon shape. My head was sore, and I felt a bandage on my forehead. Touching it yielded a jolt of pain, and I knew to expect scar tissue there in a few days. But otherwise ...
“Yeah, I’m doing okay,” I said. The fighting had subsided, and the other mudokons were crowding around. Two mudarchers stepped forward.
“Dante,” the one on the left began, “we would be honored if you let us accompany you on your journey.”
A few others stepped forward at this, also volunteering. But I was already shaking my head.
“Sorry, folks, but I can’t endanger you any more than I have. Just asking you all to come here was risky enough, and my conscience would get to me if any more of you were to get killed.”
The muds looked really disappointed, like a group of kids getting told that there was no Easter Bunny.
“Well,” said the first mudarcher after a moment of silence, “just know that the offer stands.”
I had a feeling it would, but I would never allow myself to call for any more fighters between now and the end of my trek. So I just nodded.
Everyone generally agreed that we should do something about this eyesore of a slig camp. So I led the small army to the top of the valley, where we pushed the boulders surrounding it down and onto the camp. In the end, some mud or another accidentally got an avalanche going, and in the end there was no sign of the camp.
Work was done here. If I remembered correctly, I had to find a place called Styx next. After sending for Patch to bring these brave warriors home, I turned towards the sun and started along the next leg of my journey.

[odd chick]

Wow....what a great story. I believe that I read some of your previous chapters of this story a loooooonng time ago-probably even before I was even a member on this forum! Anyway, nice work-it's fantastic.

[Dave]

Thank you.

Chapter 28

I continued my trek above and outside the valley. There wasn’t much to see ... a tree here, a cave there, an abandoned hut that way ....
I found a dirty old road that looked as good as any in this barren land. I turned on to it and kept walking.
There were things to think about while here, anyway, instead of simply walking along. For example, how could I have been stupid enough to fall into the sligs’ trap?
It was obvious. I had been hoping to find help from some mudokons, and my mind wouldn’t accept anything else.
But this next place ... Styx, Orion called it. What had he said? Styx is the land of ... what kind of mudokons? Vicious .... convivial ones? No, that didn’t seem right. I honestly couldn’t remember. It was a poor situation to be in, I guess, not knowing if he had said “very convivial” or “vicious cannibal.”
But my luck always points me down the hard road, so I guessed it was the latter.

An hour of uneventful walking later, I spotted a small village. These unmistakably mudokon huts were larger than average, and arranged in a large circle around some ceremonial-looking stage.
It appeared to be a gallows of some kind.
Yup. Vicious cannibals.
Something in my head didn’t want to entirely accept this yet, and so I walked right into the open, leaving myself exposed to all number of projectiles, and spoke.
“Hello? .... All o’ ya!”
Nothing. Try again.
“Come on ... I know someone’s here ... I’m looking for the totem ...”
That got their attention. Doors threw themselves open, and nearly fifty mudokons, all clad in furry garments, smeared with white paint on their angry red skin, feathers greasy and hanging limp, poured into the square to witness this blue wonder.
Yikes.
So I held up my hands in a gesture of peace ... and someone must’ve thought I was planning something, because a rock flew and struck my right paw. It didn’t hurt, but it distracted me long enough to be overtaken by the crowd.
I was lifted and carried around to shouts and cheers and hungry hooting. Not cool. Ultimately I was tumbled onto the stage, where ropes were fastened about my neck, wrists, and ankles. A quick survey of my surroundings found that the ropes were tied around large rocks on platforms, and that tumbling them down would pull my body to pieces.
Ah, jeez. Oh no ...
“Guys, come on ...” I began pathetically, when the tribe’s unmistakable leader stepped on stage with me, probably to make a speech.
He began in whistle-speak, and I could follow pretty well.
“This mudokon interloper is here for our enjoyment! He has been sent by the mighty Odd to us in our time of need! And tonight, we shall dine!”
Time of need?! They were cannibals! Why not eat each other and do me a favor?
The chief turned his attention to me, ready to offer my last rites or something. But something made him stop ... he reached out and began fiddling with my ear. Oh, he was picking out the parts he wanted, eh? Son of a bitch.
“Like what you see?” I whistled at him. “I hope it poisons you, you schmuck.”
“Where did you get this earring?” he said softly, in amazement. He didn’t whistle, and I suddenly understood two things. One, I was probably not about to be eaten. Two, I now knew who held the remaining earring.
“It was a gift,” I began, and recounted my journey to this mudokon chief. He listened very patiently, and with great interest.
At the end, the chief sat in silence. Finally, he spoke.
“Forgive us if we have offended, Dante of the Factory. But we have not had our ceremonial meal of mudokon meat for several years.”
I stared at him blankly. Ceremonial meals? Sheesh. “I had it in my head that all you ate was mudokon meat.”
The crowd shuddered and “eww!”-ed at that. The chief spoke: “What are you, nuts? Do you know how bad we taste? I’m glad that there’s fifty of us, because then we each don’t have to eat as much of that nasty crap.”
Wonder of wonders. Mudokon meat tastes terrible. After some thinking, I decided this wouldn’t deter the glukkons in any way. I considered the plan to feed us the meat of our dead. Sure, they’d add preservatives and spices to keep it fresh in storage, but it would probably still be disgusting. But would the mudokons get a choice? Nah.
“So, chief,” I ventured ... “wanna tell me where the totem is?”
He glared at me, then motioned to some others, who began to untie me. “I will not. The great Pyll of the Mudokons doesn’t owe you any favors.”
Hmm.
“But you aren’t going to let me leave, either,” I challenged.
Pyll looked ready to break down. He obviously wasn’t up to the occasion anymore. “I might ... if you can surpass me in a contest.”
“Contest?” What kind of contest could they have? Eating? Throwing? Jumping rope? Drawing?
“Transformation!” Pyll cried, and this was greeted by hoots from the crowd.
Huh?

[Munch's Master]

Woohoo!!!! 2 chapters! That 1st onbe was so funny., and the second one was very cool and interesting with a good cliffhanger and supense! I look forward to see how it carries on. Forgive me I'm just pretty pleased that I managed to help restart a story!

[Dave]

Thank you.
I would like to ask that anybody who reads this leaves some comment. I'm not saying I'll deny you chapters if no one replies, but it is encouraging to hear from fans, and it makes me want to write more. I try not to double post if I can avoid it ... so I wait for comments.

Chapter 29

“Transformation?” I wondered. “You mean, with the earrings?”
Pyll nodded. “Sure do. If you can conjure a more impressive morph then I, we will leave you in peace, reveal the totem, and send you on your way. Are you ready?”
Whoa! So soon? What could I use that would knock the socks off this crowd?
Scrab.
I quickly called Nine, the young mudokon who accepted my Flash power. {Hey ... hey, Nine ... busy?}
I sensed he was mid-meal, but he didn’t seem to mind. {Not at all, Mr. Dante. Can I help you?}
{You sure can. I need the scrab power. I’m in a contest that might mean my life.}
Nine seemed amused. {This makes it the second time I’ve had to save your rear, Dante. You got it.}
I thanked him and turned my attention to Pyll. “Ready when you are.”
We clasped our hands together at the same time, and each began to chant. He slipped quickly into an intern body, which I only recognized by pictures I had seen on screens in Tastee Treets’ marketing department.
Ha! A scrab was way cooler than an Intern. I was in.
And the crowd looked amazed, too. It was clear who was the victor.
However, Pyll had other plans. He spoke, and I learned why interns have their mouths stitched shut: their voices are loud and annoying. “Now, judge, friends! Choose your loving, caring, powerful leader ... or this lowly mud who waltzed stupidly into our village.”
Gee, way to work the crowd. The scrab in me wanted desperately to maul this guy, but that would be no good, sacred beast or not. The crowd would fall on me and take me down shortly.
The crowd paused, and almost as one, cheered for Pyll the “Intern.”
Pyll looked at me, a grotesque intern grin on his elongated face. “Looks as though I win,” he was gloating, but I wasn’t listening.
{Patch? Am I interrupting?}
Silence. Guess not. {Not really. I’m playing some catch. Need something?}
{Paramite morph, please. I’m in a hurry.}
Inner sigh. {Okay, Dante. I don’t know what you’re up to, but be careful.}
I returned to my own body, and Pyll laughed in his intern voice--a loud, grating, unbearable sound.
“Hang on,” I called, making sure I was heard. “I have a few more.”
Pyll stiffened. He probably didn’t expect this.
I chanted again, and quickly slid into the body of the paramite.
An awed silence fell over the crowd. Everyone began ooh-ing, ahh-ing, and applauding.
Pyll called out to them. “This is impressive, friends,” he admits, and I have time to think Booya! before he goes on: “But! Are we forgetting the might of the wild Intern?”
There was a confused silence. The paramite mind afforded me with sketchy visions of confused and unsure mudokon faces.
Amazingly, they began to cheer for Pyll all over again!
{ALTUS!} I cried without preamble, returning to my mudokon body as I did so. {I need the slig body, and quick!}
Altus’ eager-to-please-Dante emotions filled my head, and I knew he had done it. {There you go, man! I don’t know what you’re doing, but sock it to ‘em!}
I chanted and fell over, now in the body of a pantless slig.
This was simply lame, and the crowd needed no coaxing to cheer for Pyll.
What to do? All I had left was the slog morph, and I hadn’t even tried that yet--
Hey, wait.
Every time I morph something new, my body seems to have to adjust to being in it, so it goes a lot slower. The physical changes are more pronounced ... so maybe a slog wouldn’t win them over, but they way I became the slog might!
{Aaron?} I asked, trying to sound unexcited. {Aaron, you there?}
I realized how dumb that question was at the same moment he answered. {Where else would I be, buddy?}
Inner eye-roll. {Right, right. Can you hook me up with a slog morph?}
Aaron obviously had the same feelings I did about the relative uselessness of becoming a slog. But, he agreed. I thanked him and began to chant.
Pyll and the others fell into total silence as I began.
The first thing to change was my skin. It wrinkled and tightened and slowly turned pink. My jaw became quite prominent, and it soon became a large, bucket-like cavity that covered my upper lip. My eyes closed and disappeared into my head, which in turn began to shrink. My head was now mostly mouth and partly brain and skull.
My kneecaps vanished, and my legs reversed direction, bending the other way. My feet began jagged and misshapen, turning into the feet of a slog. My thighs thickened to help compensate for the balance I would lose when my arms went. And, shortly thereafter, my arms began to shrivel and waste away.
My stomach changed, and was ready to digest anything. My brain became simple, as with other wild, non-sentient animals: eat, sleep, Dante. my other organs had changed all along to accommodate the smaller body.
And it was done. I was a slog.
There was a terrifying moment where I thought I had failed to impress.
And then ...
Cheers like you wouldn’t believe! I never imagined that fifty people could make so much noise. It was an incredible rush.
And Pyll couldn’t be heard. He wasn’t turning anyone against that.
Pyll sighed and returned to his natural form, increasing the cheers. This was a sure sign of my victory, so I followed his example.
Pyll bowed in submission. “If you’ll allow me, Dante, I’ll lead you to the totem. Follow me.”
I shrugged. “Okay.”
He led me about half a mile out of the village, and there it was. The totem resembled an intern, arms raised in some kind of victorious pose. It’s wide mouth was poised in that hideous grin; it was shaped almost like the number 8 turned on it’s side, but was a gaping hole lined with little needlepoint teeth.
I removed the earring and reluctantly placed it into the intern’s mouth. There was a dull flash, and it was done.
Pyll, without hesitation, stuck his hand in next, and grunted in pain as the letter N -- N for Ned the Intern, I thought -- was tattooed there, inside a crude intern-shaped drawing.
I wasn’t entirely shocked by this ... but it wasn’t unexpected, either.
“Now, Dante, you and I are bound for life. It is my hope you succeed in your voyage. If time permits, and you have the means, do not hesitate to visit us. We will welcome you much more warmly if you return.”
I nodded, knowing I would do no such thing. But it couldn’t hurt to be diplomatic, could it?

[Dave]

Is it still double posting if you put up a new chapter almost nine hours later?
Sorry ... but I'm getting impatient. I've noticed a lot of views but no comments, so I'm posting the next chapter.

Chapter 30

Pyll pointed south, and told me that Dis was most likely my next destination. Thinking back ...
The city of Dis was a practically impassible barrier. Few mudokons taking these trials passed through. It is a wide plain, surrounded by iron walls. Fire runs rampant, burning all that is sacred.
Yeah. Sounds right.
I thanked him again, assured him I would visit someday, and set off.

The sun in the sky proclaimed it to be roughly three-thirty. Busy afternoon, I thought, considering I left Orion in Rotag at about nine-thirty in the morning.
I had spotted something that could only be Dis. The place was very wide ... and it seemed to be raining giant chunks of flaming stone. It appeared just to be a very large valley between two hills, but these hills had been carefully reinforced by some kind of metal. The metal siding wasn’t expertly done; it looked crafted from many different pieces. But their purpose was clear: no one was going to climb up the sides of the valley.
And the raining boulders and constant fire was guaranteed to stop me if I tried to run straight through.
This seemed to me to be an easy solution. What creature could climb? Paramite. I just had to get a hold of Patch and go for it.
Patch was getting a little peeved by all the bothering I’d done since that morning, but he agreed willingly enough. Within minutes I was scaling the wall will relative ease.
I reached the top easily enough. I returned to my natural body and looked around.
The top here was lined with catapults. Two large creatures I had never seen before hustled around on all six limbs, four of them hooves and two large, hairy hands. They were hidouesly fast, even though the immense horns on their heads looked like they would slow them down. The creatures carried the boulders from an immense pile, that seemed inexhaustible, over to the catapults, and I saw little reptilian-looking dudes in shorts setting torches to the rocks. They took several tries to light, but eventually they stayed alight. The large creatures with the hooves would pull on levers and launch the flaming rocks into the valley.
In no time I had been spotted by the larger creatures, and was instantly attacked. I felt only the first few blows before I blacked out.

[odd chick]

Hey, sorry that I didn't reply sooner-I've been having this really bad spyware problem with my computer, so I couldn't come on earlier. Anyway, this story just gets better and better as I read it-the last three chapters were very suspenseful, descriptive, and the character development is great-it makes the reader feel as if they know the type of person Dante is, what his thoughts and feelings are, and that is what makes a story great. I can't wait to see what else happens!

[Munch's Master]

They were another 2 amazing chapters. i loved the transformation ritual scene,m it had amazing description with the slog morph., and I like how you gave the mudokon crowd the appropriate reactions for the morphs. I'd totally forgotten about the Intern power, so it wsas cool to see it. I also liked the way you described those new creatures at the end of the mosrt rcent chapter, and how you explain each character's emotions- Dante the hero, Patch the irritable shaman, Pyll the confident chief, Altus the anxious to please mud, etc. etc. I must say this story has very good description with the amazing plot and action as well. Keep this up! For those 2 chapters, I say:

4.99999 etc./5 (I never give full marks, as I always want to be more pleased by the next bit)

Looking forward to the next chapter(s).

[Dave]

Thanks, folks.
Enjoy the next chapter.

Chapter 31

I awoke suspended over the ground by my arms. They had been tied together, and I had been strung over a catapult.
The little reptile dudes -- which, now that they were close, I realize with pity that these poor little guys were shaped like ... well, they were shaped like something some would consider private -- were crowded around me. They whispered amongst each other, guessing at what I was, wondering why I was here, maybe its an agent of the ock-ta-guy, can we eat it ...
What the hell?
“Hello?” I croak. “All o’ ya!”
It gets their attention, and the beefy centaurs behind them are startled. Ha. Good.
One of them steps forward. The little dudes part before him like he’s a god. He looks me in the face for a full minute, then mutters, “What are you?”
Knowing that asking him the same question would probably result in another administration of beatings, I swallowed and said I was a mudokon.
The centaur-thing considered, then grimaced. “You don’t mean you’re one of the animals they make those disgusting Mudokon Pops out of?”
I groaned. They were already selling mudokon meat products? I was falling behind.
“I guess. I’m on a journey to try and stop them from making us into food.”
The creature was a little jarred, but spoke casually. “Really? We assumed you were lowly, despicable creatures raised on farms.”
The little reptilian guys muttered in general agreement. The other big guy was making his way over.
“No, no, no,” I babbled. “The glukkons and vykkers own our Queen Mother, and sell our eggs to raise into slaves.”
A little dude gasped. “That’s terrible!” he breathed. His voice was small, almost a whimper.
The centaur spoke. “Tell us of your journey. You must have come far, for there are no industrial centers within miles.”
So I retold my story for this captive audience. When I finished, the second centaur spoke.
“I understand. These glukkons and vykkers seem to be a bane to your kind--”
He was cut off by an eager little guy. “It’s like the octigi demon that haunts us! We should, like, be allies or something!”
Nods of assent. Suggestions of setting up catapults at the factory and laying siege.
One of the big centaurs held up a hand, and the little ones quieted down. “You’ve forgotten that Dante here wants to rescue his coworkers--a noble quest indeed. But if we went to the factory and destroyed it, Dante’s journey here will have been for nothing.”
He turned to me. “You must forgive these grubbs, Dante. They often get ahead of themselves, and do not consider things fully before rushing in to something.”
The question I wanted to ask fell out of my mouth. “But what are you?”
I braced myself for a blow, or even some sort of angry grunt. It was somehow worse when I received neither. “I am a steef. And you can trust that you won’t find any trouble from us.”
The other steef spoke. “We will take you as far as the Kraw Totem, but then we must return here, to guard against intruders.”
What was there to guard? I almost asked. But I figured that the grubbs and steefs made their homes under the hills or something.
The steef said to follow him, and I went.

We neared the shore of the Norchan River again. It was the river I crossed after leaving Patch in Oblim.
“Do I need to cross?” I asked.
The steef shook his head. “Not at all. If you follow the river further south, you’ll reach Notheg. If you can swim, do so. You’ll be there before nightfall. I recommend against walking, however ... wolvarks like to camp around here, and they won’t hesitate to shoot intruders.”
I didn’t want to know any more about wolvarks -- if they warranted a warning from a big, powerful looking creature like a steef, then they were probably pretty scary.
I bid them farewell and walked on. It wasn’t long before I noticed the “Kraw” Totem. Kraw used to be Caw. As in the Gabbit, Caw. I powered up my earring and asked Patch to send someone through, take your time.
While he looked, I reflected that if I could become a steef, I could probably break right into Tastee Treets and kick some serious ass. But according to the legend I had been told, steefs did not travel with the wise ones. Oh, well.
Shortly, a bird portal tore open next to me, and an old mudokon stepped gingerly through.
“Hi!” I said. He shrank back, and I noticed he was blind. I rolled my eyes. Good old Patch was getting back at me.
“Hello?” he said, tentatively. He didn’t seem ready to trust me.
“Follow me.” Calmly, soothingly.
“Okay ....” not entirely sure.
I led him to the Totem and placed his hand on the Gabbit. He cried out, and I realized I hadn’t told him it would hurt.
I checked his hand. A letter “C” was imprinted on his whitened hand, and a gabbit-shaped mark stood next to it.
He grunted in anger, and swung out at me, belting me in the head.
I shook it off, and spoke again, putting my hand on his shoulder as I did so. “Sorry...”
He grunted, but he didn’t look angry anymore. “Okay.”
“So what’s your name, guy?”
“Bog. What happened to my hand?”
So I told him, and he got over things in a hurry. He was happy to be helping me out.
I asked him to give me the gabbit power, he said sure, we said our goodbyes, and he went home.
I turned to the water and began chanting. My head began to swell, until it was almost the size of my torso. It became a large triangular shape, and I felt a nose poke out from the top of the front of my face. My eyes bugged out and grew large, sliding down either side of my nose, until they were just above my lips, which had puffed out. Meanwhile, one of my legs shriveled away, and the other just shriveled up. The foot grew wide and flat, perfect for swimming. The space between my toes evened up, and my foot became webbed. My arms wasted away, and were soon mere sticks with fists. Inside me, my anatomy was drastically changing -- I became an amphibian, and soon realized that my trek up the river would be quick and easy in this body.
I expected really basic instincts to arise, as the gabbit looked wild and not sentient. However, I realized the gabbit had highly developed thoughts and emotions, and felt very comfortable with it.
I hopped very naturally on my one foot and into the water. It was chilly, but not unbearable. I began to swim down the river, staying under the surface to avoid being seen by wolvarks.

[odd chick]

Great chapter, Dave! It was your best one yet! Honestly, I have no critiques to give because this story is that good. It was so cool how he morphed into a Gabbit-the description of it-everything! I'm also really glad you put Grubbs in your story-I love those guys because they're so funny! Well, keep up the good work!

[Dave]

Updates ready.
I've written to the end of Dante's Oddysee. It ends shortly after completing his current quest. I will shortly begin work on Dante's Exoddus, the story of his return to Tastee Treets.
I will post one more chapter tonight, and post one chapter a day until all forty-four chapters are posted.

Chapter 32

The swim was long and boring. I saw no wolvarks, and I guess they didn’t see me.
I eventually reached the source of the river. It was a waterfall erupting from a hole in the side of a tall, rocky cliff. There was no way around, as the cliff extended around the end of the river, creating a cul-de-sac sort of deal. There was a little beach sort of setup at the cliff’s base. It was sandy and devoid of vegetation.
I swam to the shore and looked up. There was no way the gabbit body could go up the waterfall, and the cliff was to jagged to climb, even in the paramite body.
What to do? I was stumped, facing a cliff I would never conquer.
I settled on taking a rest. That swimming was tiring...
Maybe something would occur to me while I relaxed, watching the water flow by from the misty white crash of the waterfall. The roaring of the falls was loud, but not unpleasant. As I watched the water touch the little elevated beach I relaxed on I could almost see the kind of creatures that lived here when Oddworld was young... call it a vivid imagination, but I swore I could see
[VISION]
[i]wild, uncivilized interns darting about the shore. they climbed trees and set traps and carried branches up the side of the cliff to build shaded nests. the interns climbed the craggy rock wall with little effort. they lifted themselves up and swung up the walls with their broad hands, holding branches with their odd legs.
[/VISION]
Okay. Let’s try it.
I contacted Pyll, the cannibal mudokon leader, and asked him to give me the Intern power. He was pretty nonchalant, but did as he was asked.
I began chanting, and the change began immediately. My head elongated, and my mouth turned on its side and became a vertical mouth with horizontally moving jaws. My eyes became narrower, and I felt little bent antennae pop out of the top of my head. My stomach became bloated, and my chest narrowed. My arms became long and spindly, but my hands widened and my fingers (along with a fourth finger that had sprouted on each hand) began to thin and elongate. My hips bent out to the left and right at almost a ninety degree angle, and bent back inward again. My feet shrank, leaving me with stubby ends to my legs.
I had the sudden urge to hear some very loud rock music, and to put on some tight-fitting garment to cover my crotch.
No time to scout for these things! I overrode the instinct and turned my attention on the cliff.
The first instincts I had felt vanished, and I suddenly needed to build a nest on the side of that cliff, and maybe take a nap in the shade.
No good, not now. I need to get to the top... and so I began climbing.

[Dave]

Enjoy today's chapter.

Chapter 33

The climb was stupidly simple, and I had no trouble reaching the top.
What I took issue with was what I found up there.
It was as if some giant had taken an ice cream scoop to the ground and removed a large, bowl-shaped chunk out of the land, and filled the space with boiling blood.
No joke -- it looked like a boiling lake of blood, spanned by a narrow rock formation.
I thought back ... Orion had told me that there was a beast here. What were his words? There was a hideous inhabitant that made it a point to stop all the intruders it could.
Hoo boy.
But there was no sign of anyone having set foot here in a long while. So what’s the fuss?
I began trotting across the long bridge. And wouldn’t you know? The ground began to shake. An earthquake! What a time for it ... the bridge would probably crumble underneath me. So I hurried up a bit.
And the boiling blood began to rise.
It looks like I was crossing over a volcano. Active, no less.
I walked a bit faster. The lava or blood or whatever didn’t look like it was rising too quickly, so I wasn’t really very worried...
Until it all rose up at once down by the other end. It took on a shape that I almost recognized ... it looked to have a head like a glukkon ... but it had four waving arms, almost like thick whips.
As the shaking subsided, the thing’s features clarified, and it revealed itself to not be a glukkon of any kind ... I guess. It climbed out of the boiling lake and clung to the stone bridge, as if for dear life. Fiery drops of liquid fall off it and back into the lake.
And it began to speak in my mind.
TURN BACK, it said. Its voice in my mind was terrifying, and it made me shudder to hear it. But I wasn’t backing down to this thing. I had a quest, after all. I could probably take it.
COME NO FURTHER IF YOU VALUE LIFE.
Well, maybe I couldn’t take it, but maybe Cicatrize could. Cicatrize the scrab.
I quickly contacted Nine, the young mudokon with my Scrab Flash power. The beast didn’t look ready to attack, but I felt I needed to hurry anyway. We held a brief chat, catching up on things, and he gave me the power.
So I chanted, and became the scrab.
The scrab mind instantly screamed at this beast, knowing it was a CHALLENGER. I welcomed the fearlessness and power the transformation brought.
I reared back my scrab head and unleashed a deadly howl, releasing some genetic catalyst in the scrab body, rearing it for a fight. THE SHREDDING POWER had awoken within me.
I charged full speed at the enemy, and when I was still a few yards away...
It toppled back into the boiling lake of blood, making almost no sound. It was creepy to my mudokon mind, but it enraged the scrab. I had a hard time keeping it from getting carried away and jumping in after it.
When I had control again, I turned my attention to the far end of the bridge. I would have turned back to normal then, but ... the urge to SHRED something was too great.
So I galloped across and unleashed my scrab fury on the first thing I saw: a tree. It was old and withered, and looked ready to fall over and die.
Bad choice.
As soon as I regained my natural body, a mudokon spirit climbed from the earth where the tree had stood. It actually looked like it was struggling up out of some crumbling hole. When it stood, I expected it to greet me with a warm “Hello!” and maybe a “Follow me to the Totem!”
What I got was:
“You have destroyed the Memorial Tree of the Great Clog! ... what’s your problem, you schmuck? Don’t you have any respect for the dead of the forest?”

[Munch's Master]

Heh, as soon as I go off, new chapters galore eh? Cool, here's my verdict:

Chapter 31- Cool about the grubbs. At first I didn't expect it to be them but then as they talked I realized it was them. I also loved the Gabbit morph description.
Chpater 32- Funny chpater here, especially with the inern bit./ The morph description was cool and I loved it when Intern Dante "Had a sudden urge to listen to loud rock music and put a tight fitting garment on to cover his crotch." Funy and apt for an intern.
Chapter 33- Cool and creepy, with the bit about the boiling blood, the octigi, and the scrab attacking. Nice cliffhanger too, with the mudokon spirit. What will happen next?

[odd chick]

Nice couple of chapters, Dave. I agree with everything that Munch's Master said as well. The boiling blood and the octigi was really creepy as well-octigi are such scary-looking creatures! Nice work.

[Dave]

Thanks, folks.

Chapter 34

Oh, boy. I look back now and realize that if it had been just this one ghost, I wouldn’t have minded so much.
I apologized to him, but he grunted and called me a miserable mudokon who should be working in a factory somewhere.
I told him what I was doing out here, and he scoffed, and said I was only fit to scrub out slog kennels.
I ignored him -- this guy had nothing positive to say, and offered no support. I walked off into the forest. Many of the trees were nearly as old as the one I had trashed, some slightly younger, but all looking quite frail.
The spirit didn’t give up. He followed behind me, shouting his taunts and curses louder and louder, waking up more spirits. Each of them climbed up and soon caught on, and joined into the chorus of jeers and booing.
I thanked the Odd that these weren’t the mean kind of ghosts that wanted revenge on the living.
It took me a while to finally get fed up with all the chattering and pestering. And finally ...
“Would you ghosts just shut your mouths and leave me alone?!”
And for a wonder, they did.
I took a deep breath.
“Look, guys, it’s been a long day. The sun looks like it’s about to set, and since last night I’ve lost an arm, been shot, drowned, revived, sent out, from the only native mudokons I’d ever seen, faced darkness, huge thunderstorms, a scrab war, being taken by sligs, narrowly avoiding being shot, taken hostage by steefs and grubbs, facing a big fiery demon thing, nearly falling into that lake of blood, and you’re pissed at me for knocking over an already dying tree!”
The spirits looked at me.
“YES!” a cry in unison.
Unbelievable. There was no mercy from these guys.
Clog, the ghost I had upset in the first place, moved forward. “Look, buddy. If you’re looking to be the Savior of the Mudokons, I have news ... that post is taken. By a guy named Abe. You heard of him?”
I rolled my eyes and began walking again. “Duh. But I’m no savior. I just need to do what’s right.”
Sarcastic cries and moans of phony sympathy greeted me. They thought I was full of crap.... stupid old spirits.
Forget them, I figured. I would find the next place on my own. Lufk, I think it was called.
Somebody upstairs was ready to cut me a break, though. I stumbled over a fallen log. When I went to see what it was, it turned out to be the BigBro totem.
Grateful, I removed the earring, and heard gasps from the chorus of spirits.
“That is a cursed item,” whispered Clog. “A curse on you for bringing it to these woods! A curse, I say!”
And the spirits retreated. Sheesh.

[Dave]

Short chapter today.

Chapter 35

After a short while I found where the woods ended and Lufk began. Lufk was, as advertised, a scorched land. Everything looked burnt and ravaged. And, oddly, the temperature suddenly rose ten degrees when I stepped away from the last scattering of trees.
I was coming to realize the cliff I had climbed as an intern was the edge of some vast plateau ... this made obvious in the fact that I now sow blasted land in every direction ahead of me as far as the horizon.
Oh boy. Let’s go.

I walked across the desert, and for a while it wasn’t so bad. The temperature was only a little higher than I would have liked, but I was okay.
My feet burned on the heated rock ... which was peculiar, because the sun had just set. What was making this place so hot?

It may have been eight thirty that night when the heat got to me. I was feeling very discouraged. How did I get myself into this?
As I pulled myself onward, I noticed that some things were giving off a wispy black smoke. I passed it off as some mind trick being played by my dehydration and overexposure to the heat.

Around ten I realized I hadn’t gotten anyone to accept the Flash power for the BigBro morph.
The heat was getting out of hand. Things that had started to simply smoke began to smolder, and little fires appeared on things like rocks and boulders. The heat had forced many rocks around here to crack and puff a sheet of dust around them.
My body had stopped sweating a half hour ago. I guess it couldn’t waste any more fluid.

I pushed on to my last extremity ... or as far as my legs were willing to carry me. I eventually collapsed onto the hard rock slab of ground I had walked across. It was probably past midnight, and the heat surpassed the hottest midday summer sun you could imagine ... and then some.
Ignoring the heat baking me on the ground, I struggled to breathe ... and waited for the end.

[Esus]

This story's return has made my day!

Looking forward to the rest!

[Munch's Master]

Another 2 amazing chapters, but I wish you'd give me a chancew to reply inbetween each one! Nah seriousloy, thoise are great:
Chapter 34: Funny and interesting, but I didn't know it was still the same day as when he first set off, and I didn;'t know about a BigBro morph, also I thought BigBros were only formed by Vykker steroids, so how could there be a BigBro in ancient times? Meh, it doesn't really matter, stil la great chapter.
Chapter 35: This one really let you experience Dante's thoughts and feelings, letting oyu into his head. But will he die? Of course not I bet, as there's still what, 5 more chapters?

1 last question: When will we see Dante's Exoddus? Hopefully right after this fic is finished!

[odd chick]

Great chapters, Dave. I agree with Munch's Master-these chapters really explore Dante's thoughts; they get into his head. That's a great way to let us readers become more familiar with him as a character. Great work!

[Dave]

I thought BigBros were only formed by Vykker steroids, so how could there be a BigBro in ancient times?

This chapter, though it doesn't explain it entirely, says that Volvo was the original Bigbro Slig, occuring while Oddworld was young, and being a natural step on slig evolution. I try to cover all bases.
I would have had a steef morph, had Stranger been around when I began the story.

there's still what, 5 more chapters?

Actually, about 9, counting today's. They'll cover the rest of Dante's trek through the wastelands beyond Rotag. Dante's Exoddus will be along shortly thereafter, and will tell the story of Dante's return to Tastee Treets.
And Esus! Good to hear from you again.
Enjoy the chapter of the day.

Chapter 36

In my time of ultimate suffering, I began thinking back on things I had done in life. I vaguely remembered my first job, cooking at Tastee Treets. The stitches on my lips were starting to stretch and loosen, and I could eat solid food, and often succeeded in sneaking small scraps.
I remember meeting Flex and Adonis, the two Mudokon brothers from the same egg clutch. They looked so similar ... lime-green skin and white feathers. They always snuck around together ... I met them, in fact, sneaking into the kitchen where I had then been stationed at the time, to snag some Fried Friets. They got a severe beating for that, I recall ... by a BigBro, too ....
Argh! How could I let that slip my mind? The most important
will you stop whining?
part of having the power was
jeez, you’re making me regret doing this!
to get someone to back it up. And if
stop drowning in your self pity and listen up!
I couldn’t remember to do that, what use to my coworkers could I be?
{Get over it!} a voice roared in my mind. A sense of irritation and anger coursed through me. Someone was contacting me, and he was pissed.
{Who is this?} I wondered, although I feared I knew who it was.
{Clog, the mudokon spirit whose tree you destroyed!}
Oh, cripes. {Okay ... and what can I do for you?}
{Well, stop being so Odd-awfully depressing! Criminy! I followed you part of the way into the Blasted Lands of Lufk, and you were pitiful. I felt guilty ....}
Aha! A tinge of sympathy at last. {And you what? Took the flash power for a cursed mudokon who thinks he’s Abe?}
Clog sensed my intentional sarcasm, and wasn’t amused. {Just turn into the BigBro, already. You should be able to survive the heat in that body.}
I was skeptical, but didn’t sense any deception in him. {Okay. And thanks.}
But there was no answer. He was gone.
Okay. Now the tricky part: to physically chant. I peeled my arms off the scorching ground with an effort, and pushed myself into a crouching position. It took a moment to regain the feeling in my shoulders. When it was back, I took as deep a breath as I could, and began chanting.
My body instantly swelled to a huge, bulky yellow-green mass. My neck thickened and, together with my head, elongated and pulled forward. My face scrunched up into a small point with a few withered fingers in my face. A third eye grew on the front of my face, above my first two. I didn’t expect this at all, and almost lost concentration. My legs melted together and became a wimpy, stubbly tail. My arms bulked up and out, and ... that was about it.
Except for the part where the heat no longer seemed to be an issue. The strong body of the naturally mutated slig I now inhabited had no sense of hostility, like the steroidal sligs I had seen all my life. And, I knew its movements would be lithe and graceful, unlike the clunky horrors that marched around in four legged monster pants.
I was up on my hands (which are what sligs call them, even though we muds see them as their true feet) and busily plodding along, not deterred in the slightest by the heat.

The rocky earth slowly gave way to sand as I continued. The sand was somehow hotter than the rock had been, but my BigBro hands weren’t complaining,
It was nearly two in the morning when I stumbled onto the oasis. A little vegetation had sprouted out of a natural spring in the ground. A few stumpy trees stood about, and they produced a tough-hided fruit that soon proved inedible. Lastly, I noticed the totem, designed to look like a gluk in the buff that stuck unimportantly off to the side of the little patch of trees..
As it was getting late (my internal mudokon clock insisted that it was time to give up for the night), I reverted to my natural body and contacted Patch.
It was strange ... I was seeing his dream instead of feeling his emotion. He had been firing arrows into a pit filled with glukkons, and surrounded by rather gourgeous-looking female mudokons.
Imagine his surprise when his dream suddenly centered on me. I apologized for it being so late, but I needed someone to help me with another totem, then no more until tomorrow.
His dream became vague and hard to understand ... and then he simply woke up.
{Dante, I really hope that was me being psychotic.}
{‘Fraid not, buddy. Can you help me?}
Silence. A female mudokon stumbled out of a portal nearby a minute later. She looked sleepy. I assumed Patch had just woken up his partner and sent her through.
“Hi,” she yawned. “You must be ... cripes! Is it ever hot out here!”
I sighed. “Yeah ... you can hurry and take the Flash power, and go on home, miss ....”
“Druna,” she muttered. “I’m Druna.” And she accepted the tattoo with little complaint, and returned home.
That accomplished, I went and lay under a tree. I couldn’t sleep, of course ... but at least my body could rest.

[odd chick]

Interesting chapter....that mudokon spirit was an interesting character-his crankiness amused me! The bigbro slig morph was very discriptive and awesome, too, as usual.

[Munch's Master]

^^ odd chick said more or less what Id've said. I liked the bit at the beginning where we saw some more of his past at Tastee Treats, and the bit with Patch was pretty funny and good too. Good desvription and characterization as always Dave. Keep it up! Oh and thanks for clearing that up about the BigBro, I forgot that bit all that time ago. Also, 8 more chapters! Hooray! But whatever happend to those witty verses you did before a chapter?

[Dave]

My witty verse well has run nearly dry....
But if you must have one ...

♪Comin' to ya
On a dusty road
Good lovin'?
I got a truckload
And when you get it
You got somethin'
So don't worry
Cuz ... Dante's ... comin'?♪
In any case, I'm a soul man, and this is

Chapter 37

The night goes by slowly. Shortly before sunrise, I was struck with
[VISION]
Rotag, the village I had been revived in after being shot, had been converted into a slig barracks by the forces sent out to find me. The natives had been scrubbified, and are in desperate need of assistance.
I see a room of sligs making plans to cross the river in two days to the next village, Oblim. Construction of a temporary bridge was already underway.
[/VISION]
a disturbing vision.
I tried to stand, but soon realized that I hadn’t had any food in the past twenty hours, and, even though I had adapted to eating very little, eating nothing took its toll. I nearly fell over, and leaned against a tree for support.
After a few minutes, the renewed heat of the soon-to-rise sun ground into me. I set to work making a few makeshift canteens out of hollowed-out halves of the gross fruit I had found.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the water in the early morning light, and was a little stunned. I had never actually seen my own face with such clarity. I looked quite ragged and worn. My face was a pale bluish green, and I had a feeling the paleness was from dehydration. My red and black feathers, usually a frantic mess, were drooping in the heat, and tapped the back of my neck. I thought about Bolgemal, the next stop on my journey. Some kind of soul wrecking, mind ravaging torture was supposed to face me there ... but how someone in my position could feel any lower was a mystery.
When I had all the water that I could manage to carry comfortably (in the fruit halves and in my stomach), I set out, not quite willing to spend the whole day as a BigBro. While efficient, it was tiring switching between such differently sized bodies.

It was maybe nine that morning when I spied something in the distance.

[Munch's Master]

Ooh, what has he seen? And hooray for the witty verse! Seriously though, good chapter. This was another where you really got to see it from Dante's pperspective, so great work.

[Dave]

I find that witty verses like this are hard to write when I haven't just finished a chapter. Instead, what I seem to get is senselessly trashy witty verses like you've just finished reading.

Chapter 38

It took the last of my water and another three hours to reach it. And it was a story stone.
Exhausted and discouraged, I plopped down in front of it and pressed the mudokon handprint carved into it.
A little pop-out fold of some animal skin flung itself up, fastened to bones, from behind the stone, and stretched out to reveal the message inked on perhaps centuries ago.
“Why are you out here? I recommend going home ... if you’ve made it this far, you’ll not make it farther without some kind of miracle.”
Words of encouragement from some old bastich or another. The story stone flipped its message back down when I took my hand away. I hung my head ....and saw marks in the sand.
The marks moved to the left, as if the stone had been dragged once before.
No big deal, I thought at the time. Someone probably had to drag it here, so whatever.
But ... the marks stopped about a yard off.
So the wind had covered the marks with sand.
But they didn’t cover that one spot?
Could be coincidence.
I bet if I walked along the way the tracks pointed, I wouldn’t find any more “coincidences.”
So what are you suggesting, that this thing is covering something?
Could be.
Let’s take a look.
I stood and heaved the stone onto its side to find ...
A well. Cool, clean air rushed up out of it, and I felt completely refreshed. At this point, I didn’t care where it might lead. Just as long as it was out of this heat and lead to more cool air.
I hopped in and was whisked away through a nightmarish, twisting and turning tube that pushed me along its course with a relentless force.
After what felt like moments (but, for all I knew, it could have been hours), I was abruptly shot out of the far end of the well and into a small, underground cavern.
It was pretty empty, except for a stone slab in the center and a vykker adorned totem.
This was Bolgemal, then. I stepped forward and heard some rattling above me. I looked up and saw blades poised to fall with the slightest provocation. What a pleasant welcome.
I strolled over to the Vykker totem and obtained the power. I contacted a bored and somewhat sleepy Patch to meet Fix, a little mud who couldn’t have been four. He understood that I was doing something nice for all the poor enslaved mudokons, and was ready to help.
So he went home and I began to chant. I was curious to know what a vykker thought and felt.....
My stomach bloated out, and I felt my internal organs changing ... I became a hermaphrodite capable of impregnating myself. Aside from this completely disgusting fact, I had no problems transforming. My head became bulbous and my eyes sank into my head. My jaw narrowed and stuck out, giving me an almost detached lower jaw and awful under bite. My skin darkened to a vivid purple color, and a third leg sprouted from the base of my spine. My other legs, meanwhile, thinned and narrowed to deadly pointed feet. The bones in my arms thinned, and each arm split into two much thinner arms with three claws at each end.
It was done, and before anything could happen, I heard a voice.

[Munch's Master]

Good chapter! Once again great description, and interesting stuff with the story stone. Just one question: Has Dante become a schizophrenic, as he was talking to himself about the stone's tracks in the sand.

[Dave]

He's not going schizo ... or is he?
No, no he isn't. I put that in there as an interesting little sign of stress.
Give the guy a break, it's hot out!

Chapter 39

I hope you aren’t planning anything stupid, said the voice. If you cut yourself up, you aren’t going to live long enough to enjoy the relief.
My first thought was Cut myself up? Why would I do that?
My next thought consisted of
[VISION]
I saw a young vykker sawing his legs off. Instead of an expression of crazed agony, he looked to be crying with relief.
[/VISION]
a vision that helped explain it.
And my third thought was Oh, man, could I use some little animals and a hatchet!
It was ridiculous! I couldn’t get control over these instincts! They were just ... too strong.
I looked around, and was dismayed to find no tools ... and no victims. Argh! What to do?
Watch it, pal. The voice again. How it taunted and angered me! You cut yourself up and I'll drop these knives.
Oh no. This was the torture. I had to overcome this monstrous instinct and last as long as whoever was speaking to me deemed fit.
But I was staring at my legs, contemplating ... this body really didn’t need its legs to be that long ... it wouldn’t hurt if I took off a few inches ... or rather, my body wouldn’t be at a disadvantage. The point was it would hurt, and right then, I needed to hurt something, even if it was myself.
But there was the threat of the knives overhead. While willing to cut off my three feet, I was totally unwilling to die.
Oh, man ... what am I gonna do?
I could just become a mudokon again.
Of course! Then I’d ... do what? Walk out? I probably wouldn’t be allowed to leave unless I withstood the trial ... and who can concentrate on becoming a mudokon when the temptation of slicing off one’s own feet is so huge in one’s mind?
And, as a combined horror and blessing, the table filled with surgical equipment. Circular saws, knives, hatchets, even a needle and thread to patch up my makeshift amputation.
I wanted to cry in gratitude and scream in terror and shout in a rage.
You want to shorten your legs? Go for it. Have some toys.
“Bastard,” I whined in my nasal vykker voice.

[Munch's Master]

Ooh, what'll happen next? Vykkers mutilating themselves? I never knew they were masochists! Godo chapter again, good stuff about his Vykker mind wanting to do al lthat stuff. But will he cut off his legs or not? Don't tell me, I want the next chapter!

[Dave]

Next time you see a vykker, pay attention to its legs. It has stitches right around where its feet should be.

Anyhow, have another chapter.

Chapter 40

So what can I do? There’s no way out of the cavern ...
I need to distract myself. There has to be something I can do ...
I began clicking my four sets of claws. I spent about ten minutes clicking and clacking, and realized I was scratching all my claws at one of my ankles. I caught myself before the skin broke, and (barely) managed to stop myself.
I began humming, pacing around the equipment. It occurred to my mudokon mind to go and simply break the tools ... but then I’d simply have jagged pieces of knives to perform my impromptu amputation, which would be all the more pleasurable.
I found the best way to keep myself focused on other things was to stay in motion. And to clutch my elbows with the sharp tips of my claws. While it hurt, the urge to remove my feet abated a little, and I was distracted.

This went on for nearly an hour. It felt like a month.

I was shaking in the room’s far end, beginning to lose it. The vykker mind lost interest in the finger-poking, and needed something to be done. I think I considered taking two of the arms off along with the feet at some point.
That was it. I stood and hurried over to the table ... and as I reached for the nearest tool ... they were gone. My claw was a paw. A mudokon paw.
Okay, said the voice. That’s been long enough. You can go. Congrats, and good luck.
I froze. There was a total absence of masochism in me, and I felt somehow empty. It’s amazing how living with an urge for so long (or for what seems to be a long time) only makes itself apparent when it’s satisfied ... or when it disappears.
So for about ten minutes (later on, when I saw the outdoors again, it was clear that several hours had actually passed) I sat and wept, feeling only empty, hopeless, and alone. I considered scaling the wall to pull down a blade and finish it there. No promise, even to myself, was worth all of this emotional wreckage.

When I finally stood, I saw that the voice had opened a doorway in the far wall. I gathered myself and stood, still pretty depressed, and ambled out the door and into a long, winding corridor.
The walk was boring and long, and there was a definite downward slope to the tunnel.
An hour and a half passed ... and there I was. It had to be the final challenge: Sut. What was it Orion had said? There was an immense cold that shook the mighty and frightened the bold. Or something. Bah. It wasn’t so cold. It was refreshingly brisk, if anything.
The cavern consisted mostly of ... not entirely surprisingly ... a shaky bridge over a gap that had to be two hundred yards long. For our friends using metric, I believe that equates to around a hundred and eighty meters. I dunno. Check my math.
I carefully approached the edge of th pit, and a sudden rush of obscenely cold air rushed up at me, throwing me back. The brief glimpse I was afforded showed that the cavern’s bottom was so dark and deep, I couldn’t make out the bottom. There was a faint green light, but ... that’s about it.
But that cold wind ... wow. If that was a sign of the cold I was soon to face, then I had grossly misinterpreted the extremity of this challenge.
I was suddenly pissed. This was all too unfair. I had gone through too much. I probably would’ve been better off letting the sligs cook me up. Even if I did finish this quest, I still had Rotag to liberate before I returned to Tastee Treets. And with my luck, I might have Oblim to tidy up, too! And then, when I finally make it back to Tastee Treets, how was I going to get inside? The front door? Sure, I could become a glukkon, but where would I get clothes and a slig accompaniment? AND they wouldn’t be expecting a glukkon, so that wouldn’t fly, either! I was pretty much screwed. It didn’t quite matter. I hated Vladimir for being a dick and coming up with that plan. I hated whatever slig had shot me. I hated the slingshot-weilding muds for finding me. I hated Orion for encouraging my stupid ambition. I hated Boomer for calling to the other muds to meet the one who brought “Happy.” I hated Patch for showing me the paramite totem. I hated the Ferryman for not letting that slimy water kill me and save me trouble. I hated the mudokons who came to save me because they blindly wanted to come along and waste their time and effort on a worthless mudokon. I hated the cannibals of Styx for not eating me when they had the chance. I hated the grubbs and steefs I had met for not launching me to the valley below and crushing me with flaming boulders. I hated the wolvarks I had been told about for not finding me and shooting me. I hated the flaming monster in the volcano for yielding to me when he could have crushed me. I hated the spirits of the mudokons in the trees for just being bastiches to me. I hated Clog for taking pity on me. I hated that voice that haunted me in Bolgemal for not letting me cut myself when I had finally given in. I hated myself for being so stupid and ready to fight for my brothers, most of whom I actually didn’t know.
I took a deep breath and realized that I hated the glukkons for another reason: they didn’t provide us with more clothing.
I took a shaky step onto the bridge, mildly prepared for the blast of cold.

[Munch's Master]

Yay, new chapter! Good chapter too. Once again you really 'felt' Dante's feelings and thoughts, great work. *Sits in anticipation for the next chapter*