Chapter One: Gabbiwog

A/N: This might also fit into the cliche category but I've tried to write it as best I can in hopes that it might make up for that, haha. Anyway, please read and review and tell me what you think! :3 Oddworld, as always, does not belong to me.

The world the Gabbit is born in is ancient and difficult to find. It is said that only a Gabbit can locate Ma'Spa - or at least, only those with the courage and tenacity of the Gabbit can survive the journey. The Mongo River carves its way through long-abandoned river cities, half-destroyed and buried houses and old, dilapidated farms. Further beyond the old villages, the river becomes much more fierce, with the First Wave of fierce, deadly waterfalls and rocks that just savagely from the roaring water. Upon passing the first wave, the river becomes wider, the grasses around it taller, and it is here that an old Grubb fisherman began his own journey up the river.

He followed the river upstream, where it ducked into a cave. His small body just managed to, boat included, fit itself inside the narrow mouth. He lit his lantern in the moist darkness, eyeing with awe the old factories that seemed to be built into the cave walls themselves. His heart pounded and he pushed onward, avoiding the dim, red glow of the occasional window. Whatever resided in these factories he certainly did not want to encounter.

The old Grubb wound his way to the first waterfall, where he pulled his boat out of the water and looked upstream to see where he could enter again. Unfortunately, the river was nothing but a series of narrow waterfalls that climbed higher and higher inside the massive cavern. Two large pillars looked as though they had fallen towards the river, where they were broken off before they met halfway. They were high above his head, above the buildings. He thought it might've been an error, or the aging of the caverns, but beyond those, upstream, he saw more of them, but they were connected in the middle by another large stone. There would be no way for him to travel by water any further.

With a sigh, the old Grubb packed his gear into his bag and left his boat where it was. He could build another if he needed it. The Grubb began the long march along the single pathway that cut away into the side of the cliff. The air smelled old somehow, and was full of the echo of the river. More walking introduced a much louder sound to his ears - a sound that he hadn't heard in a long time - not since his childhood. It was a terrible roar. He rounded a corner several hundred yards away, and saw it. The pathway took another dip before it went right into the great waterfall ahead. His jaw dropped. This was why, he realized, only the strongest Gabbits made it to Ma'Spa. The way was fraught with danger. And the only way he could make it now was to climb. The tiny Grubb braced himself, then disappeared into the blinding mist.

He reemerged momentarily, having rounded the dip. He went through his bag and produced a rope and a spike. The rope, he tied around his waist, the spike, he dug into the wall. After readjusting his straw hat, he pulled himself upward, jaw tensed in his age. Had he been younger the climb might've been slightly easier. With only one leg, he imagined how tough it must be for a Gabbit to do - especially one that was still a youngster. He removed the spike, then planted it again, higher, over his head. The rock itself was slippery and he forced himself to focus on the top. It was not so high - he could easily see where the water came from - it was perhaps fifteen feet or so from where he was. But the river below, he knew, was a good hundred feet down. He inhaled deeply, then pressed on.

He managed to make it to the top, where he noticed the water itself was not as tough as he imagined it to be. Once over the crest, he saw where he could plant the spike and pull himself up. He did so, sweat dripping from his body from the effort. Panting, he heaved himself away from the edge of the fall and, shaking, pushed himself into the dark tunnel. The water was not really deep but he didn't want to risk sliding off.

Why the Grubb was moving upstream he could not explain completely. All he knew was that, since childhood, he'd seen the Gabbits swim upstream and wanted to know where they went. It had taken a lifetime of research and training. However, his village had been invaded by Clakkerz, and all of them had been either herded into factories or murdered. The rest had been scattered about in secluded settlements. The Grubb worked in a factory for several years, his dream cut off. When the factory eventually shut down, he had already started a family and his children had grown up to have their own youngsters. In spite of his age, he decided against his family's wishes to set out anyway, so that he could die knowing he completed his dream.

The Grubb spotted the light at the end of the tunnel and pushed onward. The light, as it grew stronger, was blinding, and he was glad his hat was still intact. He, however, was dripping with water and sweat as he peered outward. The river widened again, but the hills were much greener and the air fresher. He inhaled deeply and stepped out onto the grass to rest.

When he regained his energy, he moved on. The days transformed into a week, and it was during this time that he rested and ate his fill, catching fish and eating them at his leisure. He was not attacked by anything, much to his delight, and it gave him time to absorb the landscape. It was pleasantly cool and he felt free for the first time in his life. No longer was he bogged down by his much-loved family or forced to do manual labor in a factory. He was alive, and even in his old age, he felt like a child once more. The mountains were clear and free from the pollution and invasion of industry and he felt as though he were hearkening back into more primitive, ancestral times.

The first week dissolved into the second, and he followed the river until it once again began to climb into the mountains. The air was growing a little thin but he could handle it. He began to wonder, however, if he'd ever come to the source of the Mongo River. He was growing admittedly tired, and for someone as old as he was, he wasn't sure if he should move much further. But just as he thought of honestly giving up, he thought he heard something peculiar over the next rise. Exhausted, he climbed up into the setting sunlight, and his jaw dropped. As the mist faded, what lay before him was unlike anything he'd ever seen before.

It was a massive tower in the shape of an ancient Gabbit; the rounded crown was dotted with conifers. The rock was intricately carved by either nature or maybe the Gabbits' ancestors themselves. Around the head was a great collar, from which water spilled down into dozens of shallow pools. Several waterfalls spilled into other pools, while as far as he could see the valley was untouched. He'd made it to Ma'Spa. Instead of seeing spawning Gabbits, the pools were still. He was certain it was the right season and that he was only behind them. Maybe the rumors had been true after all.

No more Gabbits.

His life's journey was fruitless. In his brave attempt to learn from the creatures he admired, he'd found only that they were hunted to extinction. He trembled and in a fit of despair, slammed his fist on the rock. He managed to keep his tears unshed, and decided he might as well go and see for himself. The Grubb pushed himself up and made his way carefully over the other side, edging downward little by little until his feet sank into the knee-deep pool at the bottom of Ma'Spa. The other pools above him were much deeper - several feet deeper than he was tall, actually.

His sadness grew as he climbed up onto the edge of one of the pools and stared into them. They were clear and he could easily see to the bottom. Fish swam about in them - small fish. Some of the smaller pools had become tidal pools of sorts, and the Grubb heaved a heavy sigh before climbing up higher towards the base of the large Gabbit-shaped rock. There was no real way inside it that he could see, so he simply stopped where he was and sighed again.

"Well," he said tiredly. "At least I got here."

Sitting where he was, he rested his chin in a hand and staired listlessly into the water.

That is, until something caught his eye.

He originally thought it was a fish. But there was something peculiar about it. He leaned forward a little to focus on it. It looked rather like a bubble with a tiny tail that propelled it about in the water. It seemed to be eating the smaller creatures in the water, from what he could tell. It had two large, dark eyes and he thought he could spot its brain and the beginnings of internal organs inside. And that was when his eyes grew wide.

"It can't be..." he whispered, focusing.

The little creature wriggled about, before looking around and, spotting him, gasped and hurried to hide behind a tiny rock.

"No! Wait!" The Grubb started, leaning forward over the water. "W-wait, please!" He bit his lip, uncertain if the baby could understand him. He knew Gabbits could speak, but it was rare they did. So he tried another method.

Puckering his lips, the Grubb whistled. It was a high, shrill tone. He didn't know the Gabbit language by any means, but maybe it would help.

The little creature peeked out from behind the rock, staring at his distorted figure through the water's surface, then jerked back behind it again. The Grubb tried again, and this time, the creature emerged. It was intelligent, so it couldn't be some tiny fish in the water. It had to be something more. The Grubb reached into his pocket and fished out some smoked fish he'd caught earlier. He couldn't tell if the creature could eat or not - it looked about the size of two of his fists pressed together, so it might have a mouth in there somewhere. He tossed the tiniest sliver into the water, just to see.

The baby started to swim out away from the rock, but hesitated several times.

"It's okay," he said slowly, carefully, quietly. "I'm not gonna hurt you. You look hungry."

After several minutes, the baby swam outward and swam around the slowly sinking sliver of fish, rubbing against it, and observing it in the most unusual fashion. Then, to his surprise, it disappeared somewhere below the creature's eyes. Maybe she did have a mouth. A moment passed, then the creature swam up closer to the surface, watching him, almost expectantly, for another scrap of fish. The Grubb smiled and tossed another into the water, heart pounding like a jackhammer.

He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't. Upon tossing the scraps into the water, he checked the other pools for more of what might've been Gabbits. There were none. As the sun began to set, he looked down happily at the thing.

"I've got to sleep now," he said quietly. "But I'll be right here okay?" He backed up towards the back of the pool, where there was a groove cut out against the large rock formation. It was large enough for him to curl up against and sleep reasonably well. He pulled an old blanket out of his bag and wrapped himself in it, eyes lazily landing on the baby creature before they closed again. The baby creature watched him through unblinking eyes before it finally slowed its movements, and fell into its own slumber.

The next morning found the Grubb staring face to face with a wide-eyed Gabbit youngster. It startled him, and he jerked backwards quickly, blinking groggily as he tried to remember what had happened previously. When it came back to him, he grinned and reached into his pouch and tossed some strips of fish into the water. They disappeared immediately.

"You're gonna get fat, ya little imp," he laughed, munching on the rest of the fish. "Looks like I'm gonna have to go get some more fish..." The Grubb frowned suddenly, realizing he didn't have a name for the creature. "Well uh... I'll think of somethin' to call you!"

He huffed and got to his feet. It was time to go hunting. But this time, he was hunting for two.