Week One
The steppe was Bohdan's natural home... vast endless plains and bountiful grass to graze upon. Not this. Not this... jungle of bricks and dust and the savage trace of humans and their senseless violence. This wasn't natural. He stopped just short of yet another blasted down red brick wall and held his paw in the air, signalling for Tiko to stop. He sniffed the air. Something was around, its not quite familiar smell lingering in the air like a bad reminder of... He couldn't place it. His hair bristled instinctively, but he just couldn't grasp hold of the memory deep within. Besides, it wasn't close. He wasn't even sure if it was today's scent. He moved on. There was a more pressing smell in the air; more exciting, closer, fresher.
May; First week. Journal of Guineass the Record-Keeper.
McSheb suffered terrible injury this week. I was but inches away; he leapt forth 'pon the Speedo before I could act, heedless to the warnings of Cutey our Speedo-gather, heedless to all common sense. And I! Aghast at the suffering, the pelvic thrust laceration, the dance, the blood, the intestines unfurling like so many monstrous maggots, I fled into the darkness. I could not move, and in my mind a vast blackness overshadowed the hope I had begun to feel. I saw his guts. I saw McSheb splashed over the floor as if set upon by a butchering surgeon; a ripper.
I don't know how long I wandered the long dark tunnels of my own Speedo-despair. The others tell me it was days. As much as the Speedo-despair is a horrible thing to which we might all succumb, I fear I may have lost some authority amongst the rest. The scout, with his gruff eastern ways, particularly seems to have little time for this weakness. I must regain my senses to lead them on...
..
Neither Bohdan nor Tiko could help themselves. Fresh grass! They'd been in a city less than a week, but a guinea pig never stops yearning for the green luxury. They ate their fill. They forgot the alien scent that had so perturbed Bohdan earlier that morning.
Scurryshy panicked. Seemingly trapped inside the towering vertical tunnel that the humans had built for who knows what purpose, he scurried backwards and forth, desperately avoiding raising his eyes, desperately avoiding meeting the gaze of the delirious Sheb groaning and contorting in mind-agony on the floor. When he was an infant, a guinea piglet just two weeks old, he'd trodden on the thorn of a mulberry bush. His mother had pulled it out with her teeth, licking with her comforting tongue, but Scurryshy had seen the hideous length of wood poking from his fleshy underpaw and fainted. He'd been terrified of seeing such grievous wounds since, and just as terrified of his unmaskable and unguineapigly reaction. He paced uselessly up and down in the empty grain elevator. He could find nothing but old dried up wheat, remnants of a civilisation long since gone. He couldn't even begin to think what might be able to save his brave or foolish comrade.
Bohdan led the way back. It only made sense he was used to following the long and winding tracks of frontier explorers: Tiko could carry the heaviest of the grass. Even so, he took a little, and just about enough to mask his sight as they walked back. That's why he never saw.
Although twitchy after the events of earlier in the week and increasingly nervous in the foreign and hostile environment, Cutey was in his element. He kept his nose to the ground. He'd picked up a strong smell. A trace of sweat. A hint of groin. The acrid aftersmell of slightly singed artificial fabric. He began to pick up pace, purring in his pleasure. There was nothing like newly found Speedos, and he could already picture himself diving in and rolling about in their luscious elasticated goodness. He'd have his fun and leave them. Unless it was strictly necessary he wasn't going to bring them back to the grain elevator immediately perhaps he should, to save the foolish Speedomancer? No; he'd wait for explicit instruction. It wasn't worth the risk. Well, he'd wait and see.
Suddenly Bohdan leapt several guinea pig feet into the air, terrified. Something fast and forceful smashed into his grass covered face. He dropped the grass and started to bolt for cover when he realised his foolishness. It was just Cutey. Where the hell was he going at such speed?
Quick! he shouted to Tiko, We've got to follow him! He's been possessed! The spirit of the Snatcher is upon him!
They did follow him. They followed him over a slow rise and stopped at the edge of the ditch on the other side. Neither could speak. Cutey was rolling about in the bottom of the ditch, covered in singed, used, worn, glittering, fragrant Speedos. Filthy Speedos. Cutey purred with delight; Tiko retched in horror.
... ... ... ... ... ...
Tiko's fur was still dotted with bits of regurgitated wheat and grass when the three of them got back to the grain elevator. Cutey hadn't looked either of them in the eye since he'd glanced up from his unspeakable frolic in the ditch. As their eyes readjusted to the gloom inside they all breathed a sigh of relief: Sheb McSheb wasn't dead, yet, although the pool of blood surrounding his finally still body seemed to have grown. Cutey dashed over. Nobody knew if he felt guilt for not having been able to stop McSheb before he groped the stray wild Speedo or if he was anxious to place the rash Speedomancer in his debt, but he dashed over and nuzzled McSheb with his damp warm nose and pushed him slowly into consciousness.
"McSheb! Hang on, dear chap!" he spoke. "I found Speedos! A rich vein, nearly seven guinea pig feet in length, three or four Speedos deep!"
"Did you bring any back?" McSheb asked, weakly. "Did you get me a white one?"
"No... I... I thought I'd better not. None were clean. None were white. I... I thought the judge wouldn't be happy... And then..."
He didn't want to mention the scene in the ditch, the wretched scuffle as he'd tried to cling desperately to one last filthy Speedo with Bohdan pulling his legs out of the ditch and Tiko wrestling him into submission, rubbing his foul sick-flecked fur across his Speedo-scented abdomen. It'd probably be best if none of the three spoke of it again, but he wasn't sure he was ready to let things lie.
Note: for clarity's sake, I am adding this spoiler of the results of the guinea pigs' actions. Since I didn't record them this time, I haven't included the rolls for this turn, but will include them in the write up in future.
He was determined to recover!
Guineass has rediscovered his mental strength!
Search for but do not collect speedos unless the Fearless Leader request it
Cutey has discovered a Patch of Used Speedos!
Scout the surrounding area. Food sources are a priority.
Bohdan has discovered a Patch of Grass!
Find something to close Sheb's wound.
Scurryshy has found nothing!
before joining Bohdan for the scouting run...
Tiko's assistance aided Bohdan in his discovery of a Patch of Grass!
Do not die. Yet. Wait to get a speedo and then try to use speedomancy to heal myself.
Sheb McSheb has not died yet! Alas, no Speedo was forthcoming.
Breed: Teddy Guinea Pig
Skill: Speedomancy
Health Three HP. Bleeding. Gut injury. One HP loss per turn.
Breed: Abyssinian
Skill:: Judge
Breed: Short-haired
Skill: Speedo-gathering
Breed: Abyssinian
Skill: Gathering
Breed: Abyssinian
Skill: Hunting
Breed: Himalayan
Skill: Song
Units of Food: 188
Speedos: 0
Location: Southermost Grain Elevators
Known Locations: Patch of Grass (1), Patch of Used Speedos (2).
Constructions:Time: End of the first week.
Author
Topic: Big Trouble in Little Guinea Pig Village: Closed. (Read 16292 times)