CHAPTER 8: The Ice Age

Thousands of years had passed since the meteor struck, and life had slowly but surely begun to rebuild itself in the aftermath. Amidst the glacial peaks and tundra, new species were thriving, and a new sort of society was being born, spearheaded by a small tribe calling itself the Maha-shrum.

Today was the day of the hunt, and in charge of this expedition was the tribe's greatest warrior, Maha-rioh. Clad in the pelts of the giant furred gum-bah that was much of the tribe's source of sustainment, dyed red to show his position of superiority amongst his tribesmen, he was a marvel to behold. His legs, the source of his battle prowess, were stout and thickly muscled. Though seemingly portly in the midsection, this too was largely muscle mass. His moustache, large and bushy, was the pride of the tribe.

Standing high on a glacial ridge, he surveyed the vale below. Ah yes, there they were; a large herd of gum-bah ready to be dispatched by his careful hand. He brought in his hunting party close, gesturing to them where they were to go. His fellow Maha-shrum, being of short build and lacking Maha-rioh's physical power, were not much of a match for these dangerous furred giants, but their role in the hunt was nonetheless an important one. Quietly, they stole down the into the icy vale, shielding their spotted bulbous heads from the elements with special hoods woven from the fibers of the useful (but deadly) para-hana plant. Once they drew close, they let out yelps and whoops, daring the gum-bah to come close.

The gum-bah, thinking the Maha-shrum to be easy prey, bore down upon the Maha-shrum, their eagerness to capture the tribesmen offset by their ponderous, unseemly gait. The Maha-shrum knew that, so long as they were careful, they had nothing to truly fear from these giants, and guided them toward Maha-rioh's vigil atop the ridge. Finally, it was time; the gum-bah had been drawn in close enough. With a loud whoop, Maha-rioh leapt from his icy seat and into the vale below. The gum-bah, realizing their perilous situation, panicked and attempted to disperse, but it was entirely too late. Maha-rioh landed on the lead gum-bah with a sickening crunch, breaking its body with the force of his mighty legs, bringing it to a rest in the powdery snow. Launching himself with the force of a piston, Maha-rioh rebounded and dispatched another gum-bah in a similar way, and another, and another. All told, 5 were slain before the remaining gum-bah escaped far enough away to be safe from Maha-rioh's steely limbs.

The Maha-shrum whooped and cheered, celebrating another successful hunt. There would be much for the tribe to eat in the coming weeks and bring an end to a long, hungry nomadic period. Slowly, but surely, the bodies of the gum-bah were brought back to camp, in preparation for a celebratory feast. Maha-rioh himself swelled with pride. He knew that the tribe's matriarch, the beautiful and fair Pi-chi, would be pleased with his daring performance this day, and would reward him handsomely.

They had arrived! The village cheered their arrival with much dancing and rejoicement. Pi-chi herself, clad in a diaphanous robe woven of the finest paha-rana fibers, was thrilled at the bounty laid at her feet. The feast would commence, but Pi-chi excused herself to aid in its preparations. The ceremony, after all, was one of high import, so Maha-rioh's reward would have to temporarily wait.

The village bustled with activity. The men busied themselves with butchering the meat and the women with preparing it, with the children aiding in any way they could. Maha-rioh, though, was troubled. It was not like Pi-chi to dally with his reward. Something had to be amiss, and he was going to find her to ask what was going on.

Her hut, as usual, was guarded by two of the finest Maha-shrum the tribe had to offer. Unusually, they forbade Maha-rioh entrance. Pi-chi was preparing for the ceremony, and it would not do for him to interfere. Maha-rioh was outraged, and burst into the hut anyway. His anger soon gave in to shock. Pi-chi was certainly in the hut, but so was his brother. Luhu-ichi.

Luhu-ichi, though even more talented than himself at jumping, was a thin, somewhat cowardly sort. His mind, however, was keen in ways that Maha-rioh could not boast, and Pi-chi often used him as a counselor, bouncing her ideas off of him to determine what was best for the tribe. Because of this, he also wore special colors for his pelt, this one a dark shade of green extracted from the bright green funguses said to restore life to any who ate of their flesh. While Maha-rioh knew that Luhu-ichi and Pi-chi were close, he did not realize that they were quite this close.

While Pi-chi covered up and tried to explain that Maha-rioh was not, in fact, seeing what he knew he was seeing, Luhu-ichi simply ran, and Maha-rioh followed soon after. Luhu-ichi was a talented sprinter and soon outstripped Maha-rioh by several yards, weaving in and out of the village's huts in an attempt to confuse his brother into dropping the case. Maha-rioh, however, was determined to back at his brother. After all, it was he, as the village's chief warrior, who should have a claim to Pi-chi.

Suddenly, bedlam from the south end of the village. Maha-rioh stopped dead in his tracks. The demon lizard, Bau-zah, was again wreaking havoc. Bau-zah was a horrendous sight, a throwback to a more brutal era. Though he wore no furs, his body was hot like a furnace. Large, dreadful spikes coated his armored carapace, and his roar could be heard for miles. Killing the Maha-shrum seemed to be little but sport to this horrendous, scaled monstrocity, but he also seemed to have an interest in the lovely Pi-chi, for reasons entirely unknown to the Maha-shrum. Maha-rioh knew that he must, once again, intervene to save his tribesmen and their leader. Dealing with his traitorous brother would have to wait.

Maha-rioh ran to where Bau-zah was laying waste to the village. Already, the lifeless bodies of several of his fellow tribesmen lay before the rampaging beast, and many huts were ablaze from the fury of its fiery breath. Bau-zah, upon seeing Maha-rioh, roared in a fit of wrathful rage. Too many times had Maha-rioh spoiled his plans. Too many times had Pi-chi eluded his grasp. He made a sudden charge, bearing down on the brave warrior.

With cat-like reflexes, Maha-rioh leapt over the charging monster, causing Bau-zah to harmlessly plow into an already-flaming hut. This infuriated the beast even more, and he stomped the ground in indignation, sending shockwaves throughout the surrounding tundra, rippling the ground and shaking the very foundations of the village.

In fact, the shockwaves caused by this pique of rage proved to be very powerful indeed. A dormant volcano, lying some several meters below the village, suddenly found itself awakened, spewing out lava and ash in a dizzying torrent. Though the Maha-shrum and all within a several mile radius of the volcano were devastated, this would mark the end of the ice age, and a new era for this brave new world, a world heralded in by a single word from the brave Maha-rioh;

"Daaaaaammmmnnnnnnnnn."

TO BE CONTINUED