I've wanted to write Oddworld fanfiction for a fairly long time but was too preoccupied with other things to visit these forums much at all. With the recent influx of Oddworld news I've been coming here more so I think now is a good time to get this started.
The Turn of the Tide is a story idea I had a pretty long time ago chronicling the adventures of a fuzzle. I want to make this faithful to what was established in the games already but please be aware that I am using Munch's Oddysee as a base for the story (yes, that
Munch's Oddysee). I will however replace certain elements shown in the game (eg the Lulu Fund machines) with things that make more sense in the context of a narrative.
Anyway I finished up the prologue which is fairly short as it introduces the general setting.
The Turn of the Tide
Prologue: The Tide is Stemmed
No one knew where the nets have come from or where they went. All anyone was aware of is the desolation within the once vibrant waters of Mudos. It was as if the abundance of life in the rivers had simply ceased to exist.
All who lived in the wilderness have observed the change whether they were directly affected by it or not. The malnourished carcasses of sea rexes, those great monsters that have long been masters of the underwater realm, lay rotting beneath the still waters. The mudokons, a small number of whom have finally acquired a taste of freedom thanks to the efforts of that notorious terrorist Abe, have only begun rebuilding their ancestral communities before they once again felt the presence of their slavers in the desolation surrounding their home and the ever-expanding curtain of industry. The settlements, whose lands and water sources have already been ravaged, were further polluted by contamination from such corporate giants as FlubCo and Splinterz Manufacturing.
The fuzzle communities that dotted the continentís deteriorating wilderness felt the change as well. They were simple creatures whose spherical, limbless bodies were not much suited for building great monuments and establishing civilizations. Yet there was a harmony within their way of life, and they too, found it difficult not to notice a great number of their kin being harvested away by mysterious assailants only to never be seen again. Tales of the ever-hunting luminous eyes that scoured the forests at night for entrapped fuzzles have already permeated the consciousness of all who lived in the wild.
Far to the west, the communities of grubbs that were inseparably tied to the rivers were forced into starvation as catch after catch yielded an empty net. Some portions of their water sources has dried off completely forcing the them to resettle. Here too, legends of a water demon responsible for the grubbsí plight were told.
In a small inlet of a lake somewhere in the wilderness of Mudosís east, a little creature swam around, vainly calling for his lost kin. He was small, with a rectangular-looking head, two massive eyes and a small round stomach. A single bottom limb branched off into three fingers and was used as a flipper. If that little creature in the lake knew what role he was about to play in the scheme of the industrial situation, his eyes would have bulged with fright. As a matter of fact they would do just that many times through the course of his journey. Him, and many more inhabitants of Oddworld yet to step into the picture would be surprised at the roles they would play in the struggle against the industrial power structure.