Fang Vs. Claw
by Oliver Ullmann (2010)
Genres: Science Fiction

In a starlit age... ... a defeated warrior faces a world of blood and rust... ... an ancient guardian has nothing to protect but his own rage... ... a four-armed acolyte sacrifices his soul for vengeance... ... and as always, the stars shine unblinkingly upon the carnage.

action: %
response: Betrayal. It tastes bitter in your mouth. Your neck is still itching where the death-blow struck. The part of you that is called "Wiseguy" objects that you don't have a neck. Technically, that's correct.

Let's take inventory, shall we? You have: a head, and a one metre long tail sprouting out from the selfsame head where the rest of your body used to be. That's it.

Your mental condition has cycled between catatonic, delusional, raging and weeping for you don't know how long. Right now is one of your clearer moments.

It's a bright day, literally. Or at least it's not as dark as your average day. You see, sometimes when the constellation of some shiny junk, the stars and whatnot is just right, a feeble ray of light finds its way into your godforsaken pit. You fancy the light somehow strengthens you. You also fancy your tail is growing longer every day/hour/year/other useless measurement of time. Cell by cell for cell...

Fang Vs. Claw
The Duel That Spanned the Ages Episode 2 by Oliver Ullmann / cover art by Martin Oehm

The pit is just large enough to comfortably pace around, as far as you can do that with your humble assortment of extremities. All compass directions lead to nothing but towering grey walls. That's right, there's no exit, except maybe up. A slight draft hints that there must be an opening somewhere above. The walls just have to end somewhere.

A feeble ray of light comes glistening down, painting a shifting pattern on the humid floor.
action: You look up
response: The walls grow upwards into darkness. Only a shining piece of metal can be seen far above, like a distant star.

You feel on the edge of starvation. You've felt this way since you woke up in this chamber. But you don't starve. Time has no meaning here. What is this, some obscure Buddhist hell?
action: About yourself
response: You have a head and a tail, and no, that doesn't make you a coin.

You can't see much of yourself, so you have to rely on your body sense: It feels as if you once had more appendages. It feels very awkward to move your tail. The connection between your head and tail feels flat-out wrong.
action: Up
response: Right. You really want to get out of here. But you can't fly, you can't jump properly, you cannot even walk. Just slither.
action: You look at the head
response: You run your tail over your face - thank God there's no mirror in here. Your nose and ears are reduced to frayed stumps; your whole head feels like a skull thinly wrapped in wrinkled skin.

A green ball of light drops into your pit. It is zipping back and forth at a dazzling speed. You're having trouble focusing on something so fast.

There, it stopped for a second: You see a green, iridescent carapace, six legs, antennae... the carapace opens, revealing wings. It is a beetle.
action: You eat beetle
response: It struggles fiercely, but finally the beetle finds itself wrapped up in your tail.

Slowly, inch for inch, you pull the beetle into your mouth. Its helplessly beating wings tickle your face. Finally, it is in what counts as your stomach. You feel a flurry of bites from inside. You seize up.

The thing must die. Your belly gurgles.

Synthesizing such a volume of acid screws up your weak metabolism big time. You faint, but just as you do you feel the carapace give in and dissolve. There will be food....

Yes. This is definitely preferable to starving.

More beetles have stumbled into your pit over time. You didn't catch them all, but you've become quite adept at hunting them. Hide - wait - pounce - eat. Your conscious mind has taken a back seat for a while.

A short time ago, you did something important. You don't quite remember what; it's all a blur. But you do remember a sense of accomplishment.

You rest now. For the first time in ages you truly rest.

Warm darkness embraces you. You are resting comfortably and fully relaxed, braced by a tightly-fitting shell. It feels maybe a little too tight.
I beg your pardon?
action: You examine the tail
response: Actually half of your body, your tail is roughly one meter of emaciated and wrinkled wiggly-ness.
action: You eat the beetle
response: It struggles fiercely, but finally the beetle finds itself wrapped up in your tail.

Slowly, inch for inch, you pull the beetle into your mouth. Its helplessly beating wings tickle your face. Finally, it is in what counts as your stomach. You feel a flurry of bites from inside. You seize up.

The thing must die. Your belly gurgles.

Synthesizing such a volume of acid screws up your weak metabolism big time. You faint, but just as you do you feel the carapace give in and dissolve. There will be food....

Yes. This is definitely preferable to starving.

More beetles have stumbled into your pit over time. You didn't catch them all, but you've become quite adept at hunting them. Hide - wait - pounce - eat. Your conscious mind has taken a back seat for a while.

A short time ago, you did something important. You don't quite remember what; it's all a blur. But you do remember a sense of accomplishment.

You rest now. For the first time in ages you truly rest.

Warm darkness embraces you. You are resting comfortably and fully relaxed, braced by a tightly-fitting shell. It feels maybe a little too tight.
action: You examine the shell
response: The shell fits you tightly, like a second skin. It is warm and moist.
action: You exit
response: You stretch vigorously and break through the walls around you. They crack easily, like old tree bark.

Your familiar pit feels much tighter now. You can actually touch opposite walls with your legs. It must all have been a matter of perspective. Or rather size.

The torn remains of a cocoon are clinging to one corner of the pit.

A feeble ray of light comes glistening down, painting a shifting pattern on the humid floor.
action: You examine the pattern
response: It looks like a face. It always looks like a face.
action: You examine the legs
response: What wonderful legs you have, four of them: The toes are especially beautiful. Unfortunately they're not quite made for fine manipulation of things.
action: About you
response: Your physique resembles that of a salamander or maybe a velvet worm. You tail is longer now (and does not make up the whole of your body), and you have four stubby legs. Your skin, at least what you can see of it, is smooth and dirty grey in colour.
action: You look at the head
response: Your face/snout is somewhat elongated. No nose or ears are sticking out, but you can hear and smell nonetheless.
action: You eat the cocoon
response: You wolf down the leathery remains. They taste bland, like skin or hair does, but you might get a little nourishment from it.

Eaten.
I beg your pardon?
action: Look around
response: Your familiar pit feels much tighter now. You can actually touch opposite walls with your legs. It must all have been a matter of perspective. Or rather size.

A feeble ray of light comes glistening down, painting a shifting pattern on the humid floor.
action: Up
response: It's all so easy now. With each of your four legs pressed against the opposing walls, climbing out of the pit is a breeze.

Thousands of octagonal pits are arranged around you in a neat geometrical pattern. One of them was yours - you're not sure if you could find it again in the uniform masses - but that doesn't matter any more.

A huge metal dome is overarching the whole room. It is ancient and rusty; light is seeping in through a series of cracks in the ceiling.

A towering door is embedded in the east wall.

A peculiar piece of metal is stuck in the dome near the floor - a clawed arm.
action: You examine the arm
response: This silver arm ends in a vicious claw. It has withstood the ravages of time better than the rusted dome - or it is just not as old. It is wedged claw-first into the wall.
action: You look at the door
response: It's the size of a castle gate and thicker than your shoulders are wide. You don't think you could move its wings one bit. Fortunately the door is slightly ajar, wide enough for you to slip through.
action: You take the arm
response: Taken.
action: You look at the Claw
response: This silver arm ends in a vicious claw. It has withstood the ravages of time better than the rusted dome - or it is just not as old.
action: You wear it
response: You can't wear that. You must be thinking of a different game...
action: Examine dome
response: Every square inch of the gargantuan hemisphere is covered by patches of flaking rust. It is cracked in a few places.
action: You look at the pit
response: There are thousands of identical-looking pits like your own. They seem to be all empty except for dust and bones.
action: Go east
response: Decrepit light bulbs drench this spacious east-west tunnel in a sickly yellow light. The walls and ceiling are stained with large patches of corroded metal. Most of the floor is taken in by a wide conveyor belt, with only small walkways on either side.

A glinting heap of scrap metal is piled up near the eastern end of the corridor.

There's something next to the scrap heap - a lizard is cowering there, eyeing the silver shreds suspiciously. Its scales camouflage it almost perfectly against the rough walls. Casually, without any sign of surprise, its scaly head rises towards you.

You shouldn't be able to interpret a lizard's facial expression, but somehow you do. The look it shoots you is one of close scrutiny.

Your gazes lock for a moment, then the lizard's attention wanders back to the scrap heap.
action: You examine the lizard
response: The outline becomes clearer as you take the time to study the creature. It is indeed a lizard, and a pretty large one at that.

The lizard finishes its inspection. It seems content.

The lizard's scales shift to perfect the camouflage. It is gone; you don't feel its presence any more.
action: You look at the scrap
response: On closer inspection, the scrap heap turns out to be a robot, or at least a large part of one. The left arm is missing from its well-armoured humanoid body. The intricate mesh of overlapping armour plates is truly mesmerizing. Many of the segments are edged or tapered, marking this as a fearsome fighting machine.

Yes, that must be its purpose. Its empty, expressionless face stares at you.
action: You put the Claw on the robot
response: It doesn't miraculously reattach itself; it just clatters on the floor.
action: You take the Claw
response: Taken.
action: You examine the robot
response: The robot's left arm is missing from its well-armoured humanoid body. The intricate mesh of overlapping armour plates is truly mesmerizing. Many of the segments are edged or tapered, marking this as a fearsome fighting machine.

Yes, that must be its purpose. Its empty, expressionless face stares at you.
action: You eat robot
response: That's plainly inedible.
action: You look around
response: Decrepit light bulbs drench this spacious east-west tunnel in a sickly yellow light. The walls and ceiling are stained with large patches of corroded metal. Most of the floor is taken in by a wide conveyor belt, with only small walkways on either side.

A lifeless robot is slumped near the eastern end of the corridor.
action: You examine the belt
response: The conveyor belt is almost as wide as the corridor. It looks as if it hasn't run for a millennium.
action: Go east
response: The corridor ends at a t-junction, separating into two smaller tunnels running north and south. Both tunnels have conveyor belts over the full width of the floor.

The southern tunnel's conveyor is out of order, whereas the northern tunnel's conveyor is running at maximum speed to yank whatever is put there through a weirdly sputtering machine and then further north.
action: You look at the machine
response: Despite some asthmatic coughing and grinding noises, the machine is still going strong. Its interior is jam-packed with rusty but still deadly saw blades. The blades are alternately extended and retracted in a regular pattern, cutting anything on the conveyor into small bits.

Three saw-blades extend into the machine's interior, stopping just an inch above the conveyor.
action: You go south
response: The tunnel ends here abruptly, as if it snapped in two. You stand at its fringed edge, facing a vast dark sky, overlooking a grey wasteland.

This is the first time you see the world outside. You are far up on a mountain; your view of the stars is almost unobstructed by things like atmosphere. Far below you, a storm is brewing over a wooded crater filled with roiling, writhing fog.

Mixed with the howling wind, cries of primal creatures are carried to you through the thin air. Your heart speeds up. You wish to walk among them, tearing and rending. You wish for claws.
action: You look at the stars
response: The constellations are utterly unfamiliar to you, but that doesn't detract from their majesty. A blue swirling gas giant looms huge on the horizon, with a distant sun just rising behind it.
action: You go north
response: The corridor ends at a t-junction, separating into two smaller tunnels running north and south. Both tunnels have conveyor belts over the full width of the floor.

The southern tunnel's conveyor is out of order, whereas the northern tunnel's conveyor is running at maximum speed to yank whatever is put there through a weirdly sputtering machine and then further north.

Three saw-blades extend into the machine's interior, stopping just an inch above the conveyor.
action: You look at the machine
response: Despite some asthmatic coughing and grinding noises, the machine is still going strong. Its interior is jam-packed with rusty but still deadly saw blades. The blades are alternately extended and retracted in a regular pattern, cutting anything on the conveyor into small bits.

Four circular blades swoop down from the right interior wall of the meat grinder.
action: Go north
response: As soon as you get onto the running conveyor belt, you are sent into the meat grinder.

Several blades descend down on you. Your arms and legs are severed as you are pushed right through the spinning steel. Another blade hits your bowels, rips right through your chest, and finally splits your skull.
action: You put the arm in the machine
response: The clawed arm is immediately propelled into the meat grinder.
A loud clang emerges from the machine, followed by a grinding screech. The machine coughs up a cloud of black smoke, but continues running, although at a different pitch.

A trio of blades starts to emerge from the left side of the meat grinder, but grinds to a halt after just a few inches. A burst of sparks showers the conveyor belt, but the way through the machine was free for a second.
action: You look at the machine
response: Despite some asthmatic coughing and grinding noises, the machine is still going strong. Its interior is jam-packed with rusty but still deadly saw blades. The blades are alternately extended and retracted in a regular pattern, cutting anything on the conveyor into small bits.

A trio of blades starts to emerge from the left side of the meat grinder, but grinds to a halt after just a few inches. A burst of sparks showers the conveyor belt, but the way through the machine was free for a second.
action: You go to the north
response: As soon as you get onto the running conveyor belt, you are sent into the meat grinder.

You try to lie down as flat as you possibly can while a set of blades moves in your direction. Rusty teeth rend at your scalp, but an anxious second later you are through with only minor lacerations.

Two meters of conveyor later, you are dropped into a gaping hole in the floor. The world gets dark abruptly as you slide down some sort of chute cut into raw stone. The abrasive surface starts ripping the flesh from your bones. You cannot stop. The pain gets worse with every metre of bloodied rock.

A faint light shoots towards you from below. Cool air embraces you as you enter free fall. The breeze alleviates the hurt a little.

A dim greenish glow comes ever closer. Then you hit something.

You pick yourself up from a pool of crusted blood on the cool stone floor. Your wounds are scabbed now; you don't know for how long you've been out. You guess it must have been quite a while: your old friend Hunger is back with a vengeance.

Fluorescent mushrooms on the walls are spreading a weak green glow. Stumbling around in the gloom you find yourself in a small square chamber. It is all but featureless except for patches of fungi everywhere. The ceiling is out of sight.
action: You listen
response: You hear the distant rumble of machinery from above.
action: You eat the fungi
response: The mushrooms are extremely bitter, but your ravenous hunger compels you to stuff down more and more. A tingling sensation crawls up from the back of the throat. Black spots are dancing before your eyes. Your stomach cramps. You are about to throw up, but your throat just blocks it. It is heavily swollen. Your scalp tingles.

You shudder, and the shudder intensifies into uncontrolled spasms. You find yourself on the floor, throwing yourself around, cringing in pain. As your body locks in a full on cramp, you see a pair of scaly feet directly in front of your eyes. You again.

It is hard to describe the feeling of poison working its way through your organs, leaving swaths of dead or dying tissue behind. Your body is working on its limits to keep from flatlining. But it lives. It recovers. It adapts.

Euphoric, you eat some more of the venomous fungi. This causes some more cramps, but they are nowhere as severe as before. You eat some more, only vaguely conscious of the savage grin on your face.
I beg your pardon?
action: You take the fungi
response: Taken.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
some loose mushrooms
action: You look at the mushroom
response: (the loose mushrooms)
Most of the caps are about the size of your foot. The different parts of the fungus are easily discerned because the intensity of the glow varies, the gills being the most luminescent.
action: About you
response: Your physique resembles that of a salamander or maybe a velvet worm. You tail is longer now (and does not make up the whole of your body), and you have four stubby legs. Your skin is raw and scabbed.

Out of thin air, the lizard you've encountered before appears. It's leaning against the south wall.
action: You examine the lizard
response: It is completely uncloaked this time. Its posture screams a mixture of contempt and boredom in your direction.
action: You talk
response: You can only do that to something animate.
action: You examine the mouth
response: Fluorescent mushrooms on the walls are spreading a weak green glow. Stumbling around in the gloom you find yourself in a small square chamber. It is all but featureless except for patches of fungi everywhere. The ceiling is out of sight.

The lizard is here, leaning against the south wall.

>You can't see any such thing.
action: You touch the lizard
response: Keep your hands to yourself!

The lizard snaps into a bipedal fighting stance, giving you a mocking wave. Bring it on.
action: Smell
response: The mushrooms have a strong smell of almonds.

The lizard pops its knuckles impatiently.
action: Kiss lizard
response: Keep your mind on the game.
action: Smell lizard
response: Its breath reeks of warm fresh blood.

The lizard snaps into a bipedal fighting stance, giving you a mocking wave. Bring it on.
action: You give the mushroom to the lizard
response: (the loose mushrooms to the lizard)
The lizard doesn't seem interested.
action: Attack lizard
response: You lash out at the lizard with all your fury, and it doesn't move out of your kick's way. But, just at the moment when you expect your foot to connect, it has vanished.

You kick the south wall with your fore leg. It sounds hollow.
action: You kick the south wall
response: You attack the stone in front of you with wild abandon. You toil away until your legs fail and you have to use your head to bash down the wall. Finally, your triumphant howl echoes through the chamber as your head bursts through.
action: You go to the south
response: You emerge into a large spiry flowstone cave. Several possible exits lie before you. A plethora of sensation assaults your brain: the chilly draft, full of moisture. The smell of algae. The sound of running water. The rustling of unknown creatures.

Overjoyed, you set out to hunt.

Like many grand endeavours, it begins with you waiting for your ship to arrive. Standing with your two pairs of arms crossed in front of docking hatch A12, watching the depth of space. Waiting for your ride into battle.

Staring through the narrow armoured window you go through inventory lists and ingredients that need to be restocked for the hundredth time. Just in case the galaxy decides not to go down in flames over the next few days. Just a pipe dream.

A silver dot separates from the Grand Curve - the crystalline belt among the nearest planet, not the bar - and grows rapidly in front of your eyes. They are here.

Thankfully most of the docking procedure is automated. Only the truly desperate or foolish are still around.

Docking hatch A12 opens with a hydraulic scream.

"Out of my way, D'heg." D'heg - herbivore, cattle. Most likely used in a derogatory way here. The speaker, a hard-bodied Scoiar, is shouldering her way past you. The look on her face might make a granite slab flinch.

Another Scoiar smiles at you from the open hatch and waves you closer.

"Please don't mind my sister's manners. She's trying to work up a rage, for the Wrathblade.

1) "What's a Wrathblade?"

2) "Now who are you?"

3) "It's all right. I'm Khemgi."
action: 1
response: "A psychic weapon. They have a long tradition among us Scoiar, but they're exceedingly rare these days. Basically, a Wrathblade draws on the wielders anger and hate to generate destructive power. Most of the time, a Wrathblade looks just like a small crystal dagger, but when the wielder is really pissed, the blade becomes larger and more powerful. When a Wrathblade is fuelled with true righteous fury, it can cut anything. Or so the elders say."

1) "What's your name?"

2) "I'm Khemgi."
action: 1
response: "My name is Kaya. We're here to get a load of weapons for Xiar's Kluster. The angry one that just rushed past you is my sister Moera. You must be Khemgi. I take it you're with us?"

"I am."

"Listen, we don't know exactly in how much trouble Xiar's people are. Things could get pretty hairy. So if you'd prefer to stay here..."

1) "There's not much of a choice, really. If we don't fight now, we'll soon have nothing worth fighting for."

2) "The Great Mother wants me to join you, so I do."

3) "I'm actually pretty scared, but I'll do my best."
action: 3
response: "We're all scared. Even Moera, though she's working hard to conceal it. Anyway, welcome to the crew!"

After you've exchanged some awkward looks with Kaya, the angry Scoiar - Moera - returns. Her mood definitely hasn't improved.

"Where's the owner of that shitty bar?" she hisses. "I need a drink, dammit!"

1) "Hey, you're still pissed! Good."

2) "That would be me, then."

3) (slip her a bottle of liquor) "Don't tell anybody."

4) (ignore her)
action: 4
response: There's a moment of tense silence.

"OK, let's get the weapons on board", Kaya says. "Khemgi, would you lend me a hand here please?"

Kaya points at the crate of slug throwers. "We need to get a few of those ready. We don't have a lot of weapons ourselves."

You start to unpack and load a few of them and distribute them among the crew.

"Have you ever used one of those? I mean, I've played some holo-games, but that's not the same thing, is it?", Kaya asks.

1) "A game can't teach you what it's like to kill."

2) "A game can't teach you how to kill."

3) "Sure it's the same. I know how to load, aim, shoot... I'll show you!"
action: 1
response: Kaya nods, unconvinced.

Moera emerges from the cockpit. "Everybody listen up! This is now officially a combat mission. We've just received a distress call from Xiar's Kluster. They are in deep trouble."

"It looks like a bad case of Machine infestation. The outbreak must have been triggered by our approach. The Machines are trying to take over the colony before clean supplies and weapons arrive. All docked spacecraft are infected and unusable. The people of the Kluster are being slaughtered!"

1) "Machine infestation?

2) "Why are the ships unusable?"
action: 2
response: "They're already completely infected. They either don't open their hatches at all, or they'll self-destruct soon after the start. I've seen it happen."

1) "Machine infestation?
action: 1
response: "Yes. Their equipment is turning against them. Exosuits act on their own accord, guns don't fire at all or go off in the wrong moment, doors smash people... It's a nightmare. In our colony..."

She hesitates. Her face is tense.

"We had a fully computerized security system. Autoturrets and cameras everywhere. We thought we were safe. But then..."

"First the guns just went amok, but then they developed a system for the killing. We were herded like cattle, driven by some animated Exosuits. Some of the suits had dead bodies in them. They prodded the survivors into the airlocks..."

"Maybe they were out of ammunition at the time. At least that's what we were hoping when we made our attack. Can you imagine the helplessness? Not being able to use all the stuff you took for granted all your life? We were down to using sticks and stones against Exosuits! They feel no pain, no nothing. It took ten of us to down a single one of those bastards..."

1) "How did you survive?"
action: 1
response: "We fled into the waste tunnels. They tried to torch the main tubes, but we hid in the nooks and crannies. Then the spiders came for us..."

"They decimated us slowly. I can't remember much, I must have been mostly... gone or something. Finally your people came and pulled me out of my hiding place screaming and kicking. They'd cleared the place from the Machines."

"Nobody should have to suffer this."

The pilot's voice blares out of the intercom.

"Attention! We've got new orders!

The elders have decided to abandon the colony. Our main priority will be the colony's Warrior Seed. We dock, get the seed, cram as many survivors into our ship as possible, and make a run for it."

You and Kaya look at each other.

1) "They have a Warrior Seed too?"
action: 1
response: "Yes. I've heard our last one was lost somehow, so we put a lot of hope into Xiar's. The spirit in the Kluster's seed must be really bad-ass, according to the legends I've been told."

1) "I know how our seed was lost."

2) "Tell me about the spirit of Xiar's Seed."
action: 1
response: Kaya looks surprised. "And...?"

1) "I gave it to a human. He failed."

2) "I gave it to a human. He tried his best, but he was badly wounded in battle. I trust he's still fighting hard for us."
action: 2
response: Kaya frowns. She opens her mouth to speak, but thinks otherwise.

1) "Tell me about the spirit of Xiar's Seed."
action: 1
response: "Have you heard the stories about the World Flayer? I think she had a proper name too, but everybody just called her that. She was one of the greatest generals in the Starbirth Empire. During the Rebellion, she executed whole planets for treason. Everybody feared her, friends and enemies alike, but she was absolutely loyal to the Emperor. She was like his bloodhound."

"But the times were hard, so they had to use her, right? I mean, she's killed scores of enemies with her own hands. Her army was unstoppable!"

"But I don't envy the poor soul that merges with her. It must be an exceptional individual to contain this spirit and keep it in check."

1) "How did the World Flayer die?"

2) "Do we have a candidate for the Seed?"
action: 1
response: "I've heard the Empress had her killed. A nameless sniper shot her in the midst of battle. One of the World Flayer's own warriors."

1) "Do we have a candidate for the Seed?"
action: 1
response: "As you know, certain species are better suited for the job than others. We've never seen a Madagakkur or Scoiar survive a merge. I don't know how humans take it. Our best guess would be to find one of the old race. The Great Mother will know."

The pilot's voice again. "The sky around the Kluster is clear. No spacecraft around. No signs of regular Machine troops.".

"OK, they've managed to get a docking port open. A group of Kluster people is rushing to meet us there. They have the Seed!"

"Screw the regular docking routine. Brace yourselves; this is gonna be rough!

You've grown.

You've fed.

You've become the scourge of this little section of caves. The top of the food chain.

But you don't grow any more. The bugs and mushrooms and fish no longer satiate you. You need bigger prey.

Time to quit playing it safe. You cannot get any better prepared than this.

The rock is getting thin where you're standing right now. Your fingers and toes are clinging tightly to a giant limestone needle pointing northwest. At some point in the past, this might have been part of a natural bridge that would have lead to further hunting grounds. Now it just ends at a thin point in mid-air above a raging underground torrent.

Fingers? You finally have some. You can also walk on two legs if you take the effort. Not that it's been of much use yet. And still no claws.

The inky stream below generates a deafening noise, distorted and amplified by the sheer canyon walls. On the opposite side of the rift, you can glimpse some nooks and crannies in the wall. Caves maybe?

You've regarded this point as a dead end until now. But with all other dead ends being really dead ends, this here is just an obstacle. It's time to take the leap.
action: About yourself
response: You're not quite human, but you can walk on two legs if you want. Your front leg pair has transformed into a pair of arms with five-digit hands, but your tail is still present and actually comes in pretty handy for balancing. You skin is smooth and of a nondescript, slightly camouflaging grey.
action: You jump
response: In a valiant attempt at elegance, you leap. Each of the following free fall seconds makes you question your wisdom, though. Your body stiffens. You might at least go out well-poised. And not screaming.

The impact pushes your eyeballs into your head. Only icy water and bubbles around you. Good. At least the water was deep enough. The stream pulls you with it for a stretch before it slows down and allows you get your bearing again.

The north-south torrent has slowed to a manageable pace here. The river is braced by steep canyon walls, so your only options are to follow the river or try swimming upstream.

A series of shrieking howls cuts through the air, ping-ponging between the walls. They must come from somewhere above. A cave maybe?
action: You go to the north
response: The river quickly narrows as you swim upstream. The current is also getting a lot stronger very quickly; You cannot overcome it. You're stuck to this part of the river.
action: You go to the south
response: You allow your body to drift downstream, towards the promise of new prey...

...and thus ends the IntroComp version of this game.

The full version will include:
- further body enhancements
- wild combat action featuring our favourite four-armed barkeeper
- a climatic battle with Wiseguy fighting for his very mind and soul
- and much more.

Fang Vs. Claw - Coming to a glulx interpreter near you this fall.
action: Xyzzy
response: More like IDKFA.
action: Idkfa
response: A not-so-hollow voice says, "There you have it. Just don't complain if you break the game."

A gargantuan, multi-barreled gun materializes in front of you.

>A not-so-hollow voice says, "There you have it. Just don't complain if you break the game."

A gargantuan, multi-barreled gun materializes in front of you.
action: You examine the gun
response: The ultimate in man-portable weaponry, the BFG 8999 features half a dozen glinting barrels attached to a pneumatic shoulder stock.

In short, it's a big f***ing gun. It is humming happily with energy.
action: You shoot the river
response: (with the BFG 8999)
You squeeze the trigger and the BFG's low hum turns into an earth-rending drone. A sharp hiss releases a miniature sun, which, at an almost leisurely pace, hovers towards water. A choir of atomic deconstruction sounds as water is completely engulfed in plasma.
As the glow slowly wanes, you see that water has been completely obliterated. (Except maybe from the room descriptions, that is.)
action: You look around
response: The north-south torrent has slowed to a manageable pace here. The river is braced by steep canyon walls, so your only options are to follow the river or try swimming upstream.

A series of shrieking howls cuts through the air, ping-ponging between the walls. They must come from somewhere above. A cave maybe?
action: You go to the north
response: The river quickly narrows as you swim upstream. The current is also getting a lot stronger very quickly; You cannot overcome it. You're stuck to this part of the river.
action: You shoot tail
response: (with the BFG 8999)
It takes an anxious second of delay while the BFG heats up, but then, finally, you dissolve into an excstatic burst of subatomic particles.
action: You examine the wall
response: The canyon walls are littered with holes and dents. One or two might be caves, the rest just small crevices. There's something cowering on a ledge above. A creature.
action: You examine creature
response: It's four-legged, and albinoid, like most animals here. From the distance, it looks like a cross between a white tiger and a porcupine. White and feline, yet with numerous spikes.

Now this looks like decent prey. Reminds me of a sort of critter I've battled in the arena. They were called Spine Beasts. This specimen looks a bit malnourished though. It shouldn't give you much trouble.

Those words... they were in your head, but they weren't yours.

The Spine Beast ducks into a cave above, out of sight. The howling ceases.
action: You shoot cave
response: (with the BFG 8999)
You squeeze the trigger and the BFG's low hum turns into an earth-rending drone. A sharp hiss releases a miniature sun, which, at an almost leisurely pace, hovers towards the ledge. A choir of atomic deconstruction sounds as the ledge is completely engulfed in plasma. As the glow slowly wanes, you see that the ledge has been completely obliterated. (Except maybe from the room descriptions, that is.)
action: Shoot gun
response: (with the BFG 8999)
You squeeze the trigger and the BFG's low hum turns into an earth-rending drone. A sharp hiss releases a miniature sun, which, at an almost leisurely pace, hovers towards the BFG 8999. A choir of atomic deconstruction sounds as the BFG 8999 is completely engulfed in plasma.
As the glow slowly wanes, you see that the BFG 8999 has been completely obliterated. (Except maybe from the room descriptions, that is.)
action: Idkfa
response: A not-so-hollow voice says, "There you have it. Just don't complain if you break the game."

A gargantuan, multi-barreled gun materializes in front of you.
action: You examine the gun
response: The ultimate in man-portable weaponry, the BFG 8999 features half a dozen glinting barrels attached to a pneumatic shoulder stock.

In short, it's a big f***ing gun. It is humming happily with energy.
action: You shoot south
response: Taken.

>(with the BFG 8999)
Please give a specific target.