Okay, no more promos - I've decided to just get on with the story, as if I don't, it will be delayed. To make up for it though, I've provided the complete first chapter. Excuse the overdo of changing dates near the end - it's just a build-up to the second chapter. Also, when Castella is Resuscitating Ferrald, the parts of the body mentioned are not real parts (apart from the respiratory system, but that's a whole system, and I even made up parts for that, as I'm guessing that Mudokon anatomy is far different than Human anatomy). Okay, here it is:
ODDWORLD:
How the Land-Muggers beat the Tree-Huggers
PART ONE
The Previous World
November 11th, 1084
Once, Mudos was a place of bliss. There was no industrial facilities, no inbred monsters, no evil. Everything was peaceful. That’s what’s missing from Mudos in it’s present day; peace.
The native Mudokons were able to communicate with wildlife without being eaten. The Mudokons made nutrients available, so the Scrabs, Paramites, Meeches and any other wildlife didn’t have to feed on the first slow-moving bag of bones and meat that came into sight.
Native and wildlife settlements could be left standing without the invasion of industrial troops who would build atop the land with industrial facilities. The air was clean. The river was kept fresh and pure, and was able to be used as a source of decent drinking water. Other parts of the river could be used to clean or relax in. Where was all that now? Dead. Dirty. Made filthy by the industrialists who raided the poor native and wildlife land. But why? Why did the industrials take the lands? Why did they need profit and wealth? The wildlife and natives got on just fine without all this. The most important question is how this all happened. How did the industrialist come to the native lands? How did the Wildlife become a food source for the industrialists? How did the natives cope with the slaughter and treachery that these notorious industrial weasels committed? Most importantly: how did all this peace get turned upside down and converted into filth and villainy? There is an explanation, but it is not all that simple.
Castella lie in the shadow of tranquillity, gazing into the reflection, which resembled himself, on which the blazing sun shone down one and shimmered across the lake. The distant sounds of light, every-day tasks of the Mudokon tribes could be faintly hear, while the echo of Hum birds could be more clearly heard closer, up in the trees that towered high above Castella. Castella’s thirst had got the better of him – he leaned forward and cupped his hands, ready to plunge them into the lake and fill them with the fresh, cleansing touch of cool water. As he did this, the shimmering pattern of peace that lie motionless in the water was disturbed by the ripples caused by the four fingers of which were now filled with the fresh water. Castella plunged his beak-like mouth into the curved palms of his hands, and then rapidly lapped the water up into his mouth and down his throat. The water was a lot more than satisfactory. Castella took several more handfuls of water, and then gulped it all down in one. Insatiable, it seemed Castella was.
The skies began to darken. Nightfall was approaching. The rustle of trees swaying in the wind became more distinct; the breeze would pick up a lot more come the evening. Another fifteen minutes, and Castella would set off back to his home. He needed to meet up with Ferrald and Sparline before ten-o-clock. He pulled his centimetre-thick blanket around him more tightly, feeling the breeze starting to pick up. The Mudokon settlement was a fabulous area for quiet and tranquillity. Not even in the daytime did things get busy, at least not for now, anyway. Castella lay back, allowing the soft breeze to gently beat against him. He stretched, and then made a yawn. He picked himself up, stretched yet again, and slowly spun ‘round. He walked on forward, through the palm trees, approaching the native settlement. After around seven to ten minutes, he arrived at the settlement. He made his way to his block, and then approached the hut that he had spent all his life in. Ferrald and Sparline should be waiting there to greet him right now…
February 14th, 1092
As Castella approached the village, he began to notice distant flames. Closer and closer he got to them. He thought that there must be some kind of celebration. But oh, no. There was no celebration. As Castella got even closer to the village, he noticed that most huts in each block had been set alight. He began to worry, and he feared for the lives of all he knew. He had an idea what was going on. As he approached even more, he could hear distant screams of native Mudokons. He got even closer. He could smell thick smoke. He did not smell the smoke when he approached the fire at first. He proceeded. He could feel the extraordinary heat of the fires hit him. As he got even closer, he could hear cries of laughter, laughter of which sounded sinister, and was produced in a rough voice, some deep, some high. He got even closer. He could see everything now. Sligs of all sizes that wield guns were marching around the settlement. Blazing fires burnt through the huts. Mudokons everywhere where dying, either from suffocation, being shot or being torn apart. Castella sneaked around the settlement by going around the bushes, scared that one of the Sligs would notice him. He crept along the path beyond the vegetation, and then approached his hut, which was, very conveniently, just on the side of the Mudokon site. It was on fire. Ferrald and Sparline were curled up in the corner of the block, trying to hide from the notorious villains. He tiptoed around the block, and then entered the boundary of his hut. He crouched down and crept toward Ferrald and Sparline. “What the hell happened?” He snapped at them as if all was their fault.
“We don’t know.” The reply had come from Sparline, who was absolutely mortified by what was going on.
“Follow me.” Castella told them. The three of them crept around on the border of the hut, then out of the block. They approached the vegetation of which concealed the pathway beyond, and lifted several vines and continued onward. As they were about to proceed, a blood-curdling voice yelled, “Freeze!” Castella, Ferrald and Sparline all turned around at once to notice a Slig aiming at them a gun. The Slig let out an amused chuckle, and then pulled the trigger of the gun. Bullets rained upon Castella, forcing him to the ground. He lie there, lifeless, as if all energy in him had been suddenly drained.
“Castella!” Cried Sparline, partly in shock, partly in disgust.
November 11th, 1084
Castella arrived, but all was not how he had expected – Sparline was crouched in the corner of the block, mortified. Castella approached her, and then asked what had happened. Sparline covered her eyes with one hand, then with the other pointed into the hut – Ferrald lie there, seemingly lifeless. Castella slowly approached Ferrald’s body, and then knelt down. He lay one hand over Ferrald’s chest, and then pounded his fist down upon his heart. He then kept applying pressure to his heart, then would pause, then would repeat the action. No luck. Castella firmly pursed his lips around Ferrald’s, and then heavily breathed into his interior gills located in his throat. Castella hoped that this would re-boot Ferrald’s respiratory system. Still no luck. As Castella began to pick up the apparently deceased, Ferrald began to cough. “Thank the Odd!” said Castella, relieved. “For a moment there, I thought you were dead!”
Ferrald picked himself up off the floor, then spoke; “So did I!”
“What time is it?” enquired Castella.
“Half-past ten.” Answered Sparline.
“How long have I been gone?”
“Eight hours.”
“Didn’t feel that long! So I’ve missed Chavenna?”
“Yes. She and Toepston visited two hours ago.”
“Oh, well. There’s always next week.”
January 16th, 1093
The whole facility loomed over what was once the native land. The surviving areas of the natives was separated from the facility by a free-fire zone, which the industrial lumberjacks were permitted to cross to get to the native’s land so as to chop down trees to take back and store as fuel for trains, artificial satellites, et cetera. The MagogFualz facility covered the whole native land – even bigger than the nearby Splinterz installment. Mudokon slaves were used to build, scrub, had certain things tested on them, there were even parts of the facility where they were put and forced to mate to produce new slaves. The installment was overall terrible, lousy for the environment, lousy for all native life, in the end, no good came out of it. There was no sign of any joy around MagogFualz, apart from when profits were high, and that was only the Glukkons who were happy. There seemed to be no hope for the natives. All things nice seemed to shrivel up and die in the presence of the Magog Cartel. Everything was lost…
December 12th, 1084
The time of great celebration. ‘Twas the build-up to the end of the last month of the year. On December the 31st, all will be celebrating the festival of Toukwan – the time of celebration for the year’s end. Colourful decorations were placed around the village, at the education huts, Mudokon children were learning hymns, nothing could be any more pleasant than it was around this time of year…
December 12th, 1092
The time of great celebration for the Magog Cartel. On December the 31st, all the Glukkons will be celebrating the brand new facility and higher profits. Mudokons were enslaved, a great new facility was being built, nothing could be any better for engaging profit than this.
December 31st, 1084
Mudokons all ‘round were singing Toukwan hymns, decorations glowed in the pleasant sunlight, an enormous fire was made in the middle of the whole village to resemble the terrific occasion. The first day of the next year, the Mudokon tribes would be celebrating Taekwest, the festival of the New Year.
December 31st, 1092
The facility was three-quarters of the way complete. By approximately January 16th, it should be more than complete, and functioning a hundred per cent. The Mudokon slaves and the Sligs worked hard to build the facility, and a great fire burned in the middle of the free-fire zone (there was a petrol spill, and a Mudokon dropped a match in the fuel by accident - three Mudokons died in the accident).
January 1st, 1085
The Mudokons cheered and jeered – it was the start of a new life for all! Multiple fires burned in multiple villages, the most valuable decorations were put up, and many songs were sung!
January 1st, 1093
The facility was almost complete. It should be ready by the 11th, and completely functioning by the 16th. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Everything will be ready by the 16th…
Please, tell me what you think.
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A man walks into a zoo. There's nothing there but one dog. It was a shih-tzu.
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