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Day 342

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Most of the female rabbits spent the last week shaking in terror, eating little food as we continued to cull the males. We started smoking meat to preserve it for the winter. Making smoking racks out of bone and sinew was easier than making nets out of grass.

I didn't know if I would eat the rabbit hybrids or or use them as slaves. They were so delicious. Maybe both?

I finally had a clue about the green glowing explosive powder. Warp powder. I'd heard the word from Warhammer fictions before. Powdered warpstone makes warp powder. Warpstone was chaos personified. It was a tool of the Warhammer Skaven.

Was I in Warhammer?

Bullywugs...

Those were from DnD...

The fuck?

I had a strange gaming element to life and evolution. Like Re:Monster

For the first time I questioned, where was I?

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Day 349

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Around quarter of the female rabbits were starting to swell unnaturally. I'd fucked them all, but not all could be impregnated when they were already pregnant. I assumed that they were impregnated with my young.

I tested my new humanlike body. I could see in the dark like a stoatling. I had the unnatural strength to size ratio as a stoat. I had the agility of a stoat. I lacked the instincts to use any of it.

I started using my complex hands to begin crafting new weapons, like a bow and some arrows. Morticia saw and copied my bow with one of her own. The arrows had to be heated over a fire to stay straight. And the bowstring took Anette two days to braid out of sinew.

We were terrible shots.

But we had plenty of time to practice.

I was determined to wait out the Bullywug-Human war raging outside my underground fortress. Stoatling hunters would carry smoked rabbit to the base in the grasslands every night. I wanted enough food to feed an army in the winter.

Every doe rabbit can bread 50-60 baby bunnies a year. Assuming the pregnant ones are Half female, the grassland base will be able to feed 6000 does before winter. It felt good knowing that the food was secure for the clan.

We continued digging. We had already connected to the grassland base, 3 miles away. Stoatlings that were too young to hunt with proper fierceness dug. They dug to gain strength as the chief ordered. They dug because the best diggers got fucked.

Stoatlings were born for breeding and they wanted it anytime I was ready to give it. It was strange to see a human male mating with a blind hairless stoatling. Their little bodies seemed to morph around my probing cock.

The magic in this land had given me the power to father children with any beasts. After each one of the stoatling females went into their first heat, I impregnated them. They wanted fucking as they felt more desires than normal stoats.

My new sons took care of the problem.

I sent Zeus(Son 1) with 400 hunters and a months worth of smoked meat into the forest. Their mission was to find a cave, kill the inhabitants, wall it off, and begin digging another burrow.

We began multiple tunnels in the direction of the forest. We had to make small side tunnels to the surface to keep track how far away we were from home base. I bred all of the hunters over the next week. They dug ever harder and deeper.

Like Skavens, Stoatlings craved sex. I bribed them with sex jor all kinds of jobs. Cooks, weapon makers and hunters plus the digging crews. We had chambers under every hill for 3 miles into the grassland.

The Stoatling Mothers were sent into the tunnels, with their own cooks and oven. With the advent of the clay oven, we began to cook pottery. We made the first soups. I found rabbit stew with tubers delicious.

We found a cave system that seemed to hold promise. Many little chabmers and a cave tunnel leading deep into the forest lands.

I ignored the sounds of the battles raging above us and continued fuck my daughters to motivate them to dig.

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Day 356

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The battles and movements of humans and bullywugs seemed to have diminished. I was determined to never have my burrow taken again. Backup bases and quick exits had to be established.

I had a stoatling sized tunnel dug under what seemed to be the victorious and surviving human camp. I had little more than 200 little stoatlings and 6 skaven. They ere twelve hundred.

The signal was whispered along through the tunnels. We had two hundred and seven separate tunnels leading upwards into the human camp.

We burst from the soil in the dead of night. Inside of barracks, quietly slitting throats little bone knives. Poking blowguns from the dirt, silently, and eliminating sentries and late night drinkers.

By the time they rallied at the commander's tent, their number were halved, and we sunk back into the tunnels in a seeming retreat. We left more wounded and bleeding than we did dead. They wailed and moaned piteously.

We waited in the darkness for the humans to stop huddling together with their shields locked. Five hundred men huddled together in the dark in terror of the 'imps'. Their wounded cried for help.

Finally, at dawn, they felt safe and began to treat their wounded.

We burst out in a wave under the commander's area. I shivved a knight in shining golden armor in the back with a poisoned bone knife, as my daughters swarmed out of the commander's tent like rats from a sinking ship.

Only these rats had animal agility and strength combined with training to kill. Blowguns hissed through the air.

We killed our own number and vanished back into the tunnels.

“Fire at will!” I chittered through the tunnels. It was repeated as hunters popped up from little holes in the ground, fired, then dropped back down. It was a devastating finish to a surprise attack and feigned retreat.

No human escaped their fort alive. The scouts were killed earlier in the day. I let the stoatlings feast on human flesh for the first time.

I knew many were going to evolve into beastmen or skaven the next day. I had them drag all the weapons and food back into the tunnels. The only thing left of the human army was the pile of bones, bloodstains, and empty wooden palisade. I even took the tents. We had plenty of spare room in the cave chambers we were still exploring.

I fucked many of my stoatling warriors for the last time as stoatlings, knowing they may soon become skaven and beastmen.