We made our abode in a small sandy oasis not too far from a nice brambling brook that wound around three sides of our village, but we were also near a forest so that wood was easily obtainable. Not too close so that the trees obstructed our view of the land around us, not too far to travel there at dusk and return by night with the pieces of a small tree in tow. Anon always complained about having to walk, or sometimes sprint, to go harvest the trees, but we told him it was always worth it since you can see where the mobs are on an open plain better than in a forest. He always responded the same: "Maybe YOU need the open sand, but I see them just fine in whatever terrain there's a fight to be had".
There were three of us here in the village. There was Brightside, the Paladin of Victory. He had smooth and short curly blonde hair and pale blue eyes; going for a blue and silver based style: silver armor, blue shield, both colors for the helmet when he wore one. But he always wore a heavy iron chest plate with blue marking across it even on the safest days, harvesting crops or doing repairs, he always kept it on no matter what. It had saved his skin once or twice, but Anon and I weren't sure it was worth his constant notice of how hot it was.
Of course, we also had Anonymous (or Anon) who always had the last laugh. I've heard him be called him a 'troll' and he would occasionally agree with the nickname, and would just as often disagree. He called himself "A Collective Hive mind of The Internet", I hadn't heard of this "Internet" land before, but I decided never to venture too far in the direction he came from, lest I accidently arrive in that web of madness. Anon dressed interestingly, he covered his natural pale green skin with a business suit at all times, wearing it constantly like a uniform along with a mask of a man with a sharp nose, waxy completions, a thin pink smile with bright red cheeks and a moustache. When I first saw him approaching across the plains, I hid myself in the alleys and almost shot him as he entered; fearing he was some creeper I had yet to encounter, one that could use tools and walk on two limbs, one with arms. I was afraid he would explain to me why their faces looked so tortured. I eventually argued that mask off him to verify he didn't have the shrieking face of a creeper... imagine my surprise when he had no face at all! He says the mask is his face, even though I don't think a mask shows real emotions or real people, but he doesn't have a real face, so I guess it counts. He made up for his oddities with his "sharp-shooting" skills, which usually killed the target after the entire quiver had been depleted, but the rate of fire he possessed was something neither me nor Brightside could match, he was a machine with the bow. Anon attributed it to an "old version" but we didn't mind, he didn't point it at us.
Oh, there was also me. I wouldn't say I was new to this game, but I had not quite become a hardcore survivalist, nor a dimension traversing nomad; I was content with my blade, my home and my company. These two with me described me as well tanned from all my hard work in the outdoors. I had blue eyes last I recalled and short brown hair, but I hadn't seen a mirror in so long I couldn't recall. I've looked down to see tattered blue pants with a teal shirt that covered my torso tightly, these are my clothes. I was the first to arrive in this place, then came Anon, then Brightside, then the Villagers.
One night, it just happened. We woke up one morning and we realized we were no longer alone in this once deserted village. After their appearance, we began a nightly watch; just to be sure it didn't happen again under less peaceful terms. We were unsure if they built the place and returned after a migration and decided to co-exist with us, or maybe they were just traveling like we all used to be, but the Villagers stayed anyway. Brightside called them "Testificate"s, and Anon called them "Testicals". I just named them my neighbors.
Names; what tricky things. All I remember was being around here; calling this redstone and that a creeper, but when Anon came around, I had realized I hadn't even got a name for myself. We've settled on "Steve?" with a question mark since we're not sure if it's right or not. I was the first here, and I don't remember anything before waking up on the banks near the village, but those caverns, the mineshafts, the strongholds, the chests... someone had to put those there, maybe one of them could unlock some information about myself, maybe I placed them.
It doesn't matter much though i think as i scribble the last of these words onto a scrap of paper with a quill. I'm alive, and that says enough about who I am... WHAT I am... what I'm NOT. I allow a small smile as a warm evening breeze glides across the worn cobblestone tower with me at the top, rustling the paper in my hands. The sun sets past the tiny river and over the vast golden desert landscape before us; I feel as though I've seen the same view a million times it and it never stops being amazing to me, the sun setting across the mysterious wilderness full of adventure. I am sitting on top of the only fully cobblestone building in the village, the church's watchtower, keeping view over the coming night. There is a faint crackling by my right as a torch burns eternally on the stick, I brought it to help me read and write by night. It might attract in more mobs, but it also lets other wanderers know this place is inhabited; encouraging them that they can either visit or keep their distance, depending on their ambitions. I'd accept any new comers, but I'm not the only one here anymore. I hear a distant clattering from below, and i place my feather next to the paper and beneath a plank of wood to keep them from blowing away as i walk to the edge with sword in hand.
"Hey Brightside!"
"Yeah Steve?"
"Think you could bring up some food and arrows from the pumpkin shed? I'm getting peckish and running out, might be a long night."
He gives a wave back to me and a thumbs up before he walks off towards the small shack we use to grow pumpkins and store more organic materials. I turn away to watch the last rays of sunlight slide under the horizon. It's night time now. Time to get ready.
The main house used by the three miners and crafters was currently in a one man bustle. Anon rushed about between the furnace and the crafting bench franticly. He took still cooling ingots of iron out of the furnace with bare hands and juggled them across the wooden floor, chanting "Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot!" as he tossed the iron into place on the workbench. He flailed his roasted red hands and blew on them to try to cool them off. He kicked open a chest in the corner and stuck his blistering appendages into the water bucket they had stored, breathing a sigh with his hands cooling. He pulled them out and shook his arms around to dry them off, his work wasn't done yet. He took the water bucket over to the furnace and scooped another cooling ingot into the cool water, enticing a hissing and billows of steam he found all too satisfying. Brightside told him that he should let the ingots cool naturally, that trying to speed the process could weaken the metal, but durability was not what Anon wanted from this project.
He wiped the mask's brow and looked at a pocket watch they had mounted on the wall and returned to work with a small swear, he really wanted to try this tonight... it could wait, but he was too excited, ever since he had the idea he wanted to know the results instantly. He ran the bucket to the bench and snagged a shard of Lapis Luis and slid the last iron ingot into place while smearing the blue dye across the newly completed chest plate's surface. He lifted the finished product off of the crafting bench as the suns final rays of light slid through the windows at the foyer's entrance and glistened off the painted steel chest plate.
Perfect!
Brightside opened the wooden door into the small open roofed shack and immediately he took a short step back out the doorway and a hand fell to his hilt when he saw a figure standing before him, but he relaxed when he recognized the lumpy shape of the nose and head.
"Farmer... You really startled me this time!" Brightside said with a nervous laugh in his hearty voice. The "Testificate" that wore a farmer's clothes turned and stared at him with its deep green eyes. Brightside walked past him laughing still, giving the villager a brief pat on the shoulder. The villager stared at his shoulder where the hand had been a moment before, but kept looking despite it's absence.
"So, do you know where any arrows are in this hut?" Brightside asked without turning. He pulled a length of string from the chest stored against the wall and 12 loaves of bread. More than enough for Steve?, but he wanted to stay on the tower for a little bit as well, he felt he owed the guy at least a bit of company after he saved Brightside from that Enderman.
He closed the lid of the chest and saw the villager staring at him blankly. "So is that a no?" Brightside asked jokingly. He knew the villagers had limited intelligence; they couldn't even operate simple tools like shovels. They couldn't even fight back against the zombies at night, even with their people in danger. Some people he knew would call that weak, but he didn't think so. He respected their pacifism, but they could have helped some nights the village was in danger. They lived here too.
Brightside shrugged and walked out the door. "Anon has probably got some spares, I'll just ask him, thanks anyway. I guess..." he said as he the wooden door closed behind him. The villager stared out the door as the armored man walked away, and he heard Brightside's final cry of "Stay safe!" as he walked into the darkness and danger of the night.
I scan the horizon for any sign of danger, but i see nothing: no skeletons, no spiders, thankfully no creepers, not even a rouge zombie shambles across the sand. I frown briefly, it's not often it's so quiet, but I'll keep watch anyway. From beneath me, a hearty voice says "Hello!" to the purple robed priest I passed on my way up the tower. I hear a clatter and the rhythmic noise of hands pulling a body up a ladder. Brightside sticks his head through the trapdoor leading to the roof and greets me with a toothy smile. I return the grin and offer my hand to pull him up and he accepts cordially.
"Got us some bread, no arrows though, couldn't find any." he explains. He passes me a loaf and I munch down. I had forgotten how hungry I was! We both thoughtfully chew on our food, discussing what else there is to do to better our town, and soon we hear the creaking of feet across wood. We both turn toward the source of the noise, and Anon is sitting on the roof adjacent to ours.
"I can't rest easy unless we're all in the beds at once; it worries me leaving you two alone out here without me!" He waves as we both stare and he pats a steel chest plate next to him, one that looks strikingly similar to Brightside's. The connection does not go unnoticed.
"What's that and why does it look like my chest plate?" asks Brightside, he seems a little upset. Anon tossed back his head and laughed, "I want to test these mobs! Ever notice how the zombies always chase after you?"
I notice Brightside shift next to me uncomfortably, "Yeah, but that thing is one of the worst suits I've ever seen made! It looks like one sturdy hit could collapse the armor and impale the owner! You're not planning on USING that, are you?" Brightside said, alarm rising in his voice. I allow myself a chuckle, even across the roofs, he can still tell good craftsmanship from mediocre, and he really was the blacksmith he claimed to be. I place a hand on his shoulder gently. "Relax, I think I see what he's getting at..."
Our conversation is interrupted by a loud THWAK of rotting arms on a door. We all peer over the gap between our buildings to see a zombie pounding his fists on the door, moaning as he does so. I realize the danger the villager within has gotten in, but there seems little time to take the ladder. My mind races and I grip the bow in my hands tightly... Ah yes...
"Anon, can you spare me some arro...ohs..." Even as I ask, he is impaling the zombie through the head with a rain of arrows, swift death from above returns the zombie to the realm of the dead once more.
So it begins!
"You can go down and get the rest yourself!" he says as he drops a bundle of arrows onto the sand below. "Remember! Bring one by this house for me to try this out on!" he says as he rattles the armor by his feet. I watch as he turns and walks up the slanted edge of the roof, his suit silhouetted against the stars in the sky, only his outline is visible.
"And one more thing!" he shouts in parting thought, "Good hunting!"
I grin, "You too!" Brightside is already gone from the tower top, and I slide down the ladder to reach him, passing the Librarian and Preacher villagers as I strut out the door, stepping quickly to grab the arrows and store them on my back. I pull out my Iron Long sword, giving it an experimental swish slash, and step onto the gravel road. I see a skeleton lurking near a zombie and start making my way towards them with deadly purpose.
Brightside took off as soon as he heard the pounding. The zombies were aggressive, but he never recalled them trying to bash their ways into the villagers' homes! He shuddered to think of what would happen should one break through, putting more drive into his step. He peered around the length of the large community apartment and saw a spider resting near the town's outskirts. Actually, stalking rather than resting. Brightside pulled his sword from his scabbard and walked forward in clear view. He bashed the flat of the blade against his shoulder and the spider turned its head in response to the ringing noise.
"Hey beasty! I'm running out of string, what 'chu got for me!" he challenged. The spider took a few scuttling steps forward, then lunged. Brightside took a step back and brought down his sword with one hand onto the beast's head, then again. The monster shuffled back, surprised and injured by this aggressive retaliation. It took a furious sprint forward and jumped off the ground, hissing battle cries with its furry jaws wide open. Brightside brought his blade up in an arc and sliced three of the limbs off its right side and knocked the beast over with the excessive force, it landed on the gravel in front of Brightside and vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving trails of silk and a damaged eye behind. Brightside swelled with energy as he went to collect the loot. He felt something watching him, and he saw a villager looking through a window at him from inside the apartments. Brightside smiled at him and walked around the corner to attend to the skeletal rattling he heard nearby. The second his iron-clad frame turned the corner he was shot dead in the heart with an arrow before the skeleton had finished turning around. He swore and stumbled back around the corner, switching his sword over to an underhanded grip so he could down stab right as the skeleton turned... Now!
He struck the skeleton's arm and jarred its aim off course. The skeleton released it's arrow in surprise and sent the misguided shot aimlessly into the distance. Brightside followed up by slicing through his empty rib-cage and across where the undead's lungs would be. Rather than cutting into flesh, his sword broke the brittle bones with its powerful strokes. Already the skeleton had another arrow notched and aimed at the warrior's head at point blank, shooting to kill this time. Brightside laughed and withdrew his sword from the beast's chest, taking the attack of opportunity the monster had given him; he sliced the taunt bowstring cleanly apart. The arrow fell out of trembling flanges and harmlessly into the gravel below as Brightside turned his blade over and cleaved into the monster's skull, smashing its head into thousands of pieces. The broken beast fell back into the sand and the ashes of its bones scattered into the winds as Brightside received that glorious second wind of combat. Sheathing his sword, he bent down to pick up the arrow with his open hand.
"Guess I'm in luck" he said. He looked up to see the despairing face of a creeper right in front of him as an arrow came flying from behind and into the creeper, knocking it shortly out of blast radius. Brightside spun around to see the source of the arrow, expecting Anon, but only seeing another skeleton at the end of the walkway (with poor aim), already putting another arrow onto his bow. Brightside drew his sword while continuing his spin and struck the creeper with his full might, knocking it to the end of the walkway and ducking to the side as another arrow whizzed by his head.
"Yeah, definitely in luck!" he said. With adrenaline in his veins and steel in hand, the fighter of fortune charged back into battle, determined to triumph in the end.
Anon rested on the roof, watching the mobs ambling across the plains. Brightside had the top half of the town, while Steve? was guarding the bottom half where the farms and lake were. That left Anon to clear out the stragglers, but nothing was in his threat range. Unless... What's that?
"Oh, no fucking way!"
A group of zombies, no, a myriad, perhaps even a horde of zombies was shuffling forward across the plain, right into town! They were currently about fifty meters away from town. Anon had little time before they reached the streets... he regretted not building a wall! Anon jumped up and ran towards Brightside's quadrant, grabbing his patchwork Iron Armor as he ran past it.
"BRIGHTSIDE! WE'VE GOT COMPANY!"
He leaped across the building he was on to the roof of the community apartments. Arming an arrow, he shot the zombie Brightside was dealing with in the back of its head. To Brightside, an arrow erupted through the undead's face and it slumped to the ground in front of him.
"Hey! What was that for?" Brightside yelled, a little peeved his kill was stolen. He saw the wave of invaders and his eyes went wide open.
"Oh..."
"Lure that skeleton over here, time to try out this armor!" he heard from the rooftops. Brightside saw a skeleton shambling down the gravel road and rushed forward, taking it's arrow in the shoulder and throwing it against the wall of the apartments with a punch. A suit of armor fell from above and the chest plate slid over the bony frame, knocking the arrow from its hand. Brightside threw the monster at the oncoming horde and drew his sword, waiting to see if they would take the bait. An arrow flew from the rooftop and struck the torch nearest the skeleton, and in the ensuing darkness the undead actually resembled Brightside with the light of a distant torch glinting off its armor.
I slice the creeper across the face, and finally it falls from my flurry of blows. It's body crunches into the sand below and disintegrates, scattering in the wind. I scrape up piles of gunpowder from the remains and stand up, noticing a faint flicker of fire out of the corner of my eye. I see a moving torch on the roof of the apartments. It is held by a lone figure, silhouetted against the night sky. He covers the light in a pattern, our warning sign to hurry here. He's moving urgently, as do I. I sprint across the plains and back into town, making haste as I see the threat, a practical wall of zombies already at the streets, some going towards the nearby houses; others are after a lone figure wearing glistening armor wielding a bow. I redouble my efforts, the horde is about to engulf Brightside! As I reach near the fight, a creeper turns from around the corner of the house closest the melee and heads towards me, hissing and inflating. I raise my sword to strike; I don't have time for this! A hook digs into the back of my shirt; I feel my body torn away from the ensuing explosion, as I lift off the ground I see the building's corner in shambles and frightened villagers peering from out of the hole. The hook places me on the top of the community apartment, the biggest building in the town, I rush to the lip of the roof and see the armored figure piled in at least 10 zombies; punching, biting and clawing at the shiny armor piled beneath rotten flesh.
"BRIGHTSIDE!"
"Hey, what's up?" comes his casual reply. I turn away from the carnage and see our paladin holding on to the fishing rod that reeled me onto the roof. Brightside gives me a toothy grin and absently takes his sword off its scabbard.
"What the... Oh, the armor! I guess it worked, huh?"
Brightside gave a semi-smile, "Yeah, you know what that means? These guys..."
"They recognize him. Instead if chasing the villagers, they're after what they think is Brightside. They might be smarter than I thought..." says Anon. He places another arrow onto his bow, pulling the string taunt. "We should probably take care of the villagers, yeah?"
There is a sound of wood splintering beneath us. I look back at the carnage and scattered scraps of metal are lying near a skeleton, but the zombies are nowhere to be seen except the ones at the further houses. I see a spider shuffling beneath me and draw my sword, "I'll take the streets, Brightside, can you go through the apartment and guard the inside? Anon, watch my back, I'm gonna go in."
We nod in agreement; no villagers shall fall this night.
"Let's get started then." Brightside says with a confident smirk; he throws out the fishing line and it nestles itself into a skeleton's skull. Anon pulls the arrow on the string tight and lets fly as Brightside yanks the undead into the air and towards us. The arrow slams into its ribs, shattering several and its legs crunch as it lands before me on its knees. I charge and plunge my sword into it, pushing the skeleton off the roof while I follow its body off the ledge with my blade leading the plunge. We land on the spider below; the devastated skeleton finally shatters under the force of the impact while my sword still strikes through what remains of the ribcage and into the spider's abdomen. The spider hisses with rage and its long hairy legs flail about, seeking for the assailant. Another jab to the spider's giant backside and it seeks nothing but an eternal rest. I don't have time to waste though, so with a newfound burst of energy I leap off the growing corpse pile and right into the undead horde at the houses.
There are two zombies at the house nearest me, they punch and tear at the door and their claws are starting to rip away chucks of wood. The scene becomes clearer as I rush closer until I leap. My first blow is a jumping strike across the zombie's chest, I see a flash of red and he is knocked away, a good 7 feet or so. He tumbles down, but it might still be in fighting condition, so I remind myself to stay alert. The closest undead seems to take no action of his raiding partner's fate, but my sword happily reminds him of what awaits the both of them. The red steel arcs across the rotten limbs and dices them neatly onto the floor, dismembering first the monsters arms so it can do the villagers no harm, then the head. The beast falls over and dissolves in the wind as I move to my next target. A zombie prying a door open, its hand reaching through a hole it has already made. I can't see them or hear them, but the villagers inside... I leap into the air and my blade slashes across it's back, tearing through the tattered garments and cutting into moldy flesh. This zombie is more aware of my presence and spins around, lashing with its arms and claws, snarling at me. I step back and slice through its simplistic charge, carving a portion out of its head, but the beast's arms eventually do connect with mine, leaving a deep gash across my left forearm. I swear and stumble backwards, only to feel a heavy blow from behind. I've been flanked, that damned other undead!
I focus on pushing the one before me away, I stab him and take pushing strides forward, using all my might and skill as I parry blows off his thick arms while moving away from the zombie tailing me, it is a game of cat and mouse, but finally I deliver a fatal blow to the undead neck. It stumbles backwards and crashes against the cobblestone wall and a loose chunk if rotten flesh sags off into the sand before the wind scatters the cloud the corpse leaves behind. I turn around to face the other zombie that was behind me, but there is nothing. I see nothing except... a rotten arm pinned to the ground by four arrows. A steel shovel is clasped in the undead's hand, piquing my interest. I bend over and wrest the arm and shovel apart, placing each into my tunic for later; the others won't believe this...
Brightside hoped down the skylight and into the loft/airlock they had placed at the center's roof to keep the villagers away from the roof. His heavy feet slammed against the wooden floor and he took off in a jog across the creaky planks. He passed a Librarian running towards the door he was approaching from the other side. The Librarian had a panic look in his eyes and was trying to open the wooden door to the airlock, but the door didn't work like the ones villagers were used to, he was trapped. Brightside flipped the door up and the villager scrambled past him and into the airlock. Brightside drew his sword and stepped into the lobby area, shutting the trapdoor behind him. His foot falls softened as he stepped onto the red wool that made up the floor; he remained cautious since his motions might not have been the only silent ones. The room could be better lit, but they didn't want to risk a fire, so few torches were in the moderately sized room. There were three separate tables for the sake of eating and six chairs, and the jukebox bar in the corner where the random records were stored. Brightside slowly approached the jukebox and a zombie shambled from its place behind the pillar's shadow, arms outstretched and moaning as it inched towards Brightside. Brightside smirked and lept off a table to position his blade above the enemy, and gravity did the rest. The sword dove into it's skull and it fell to the ground and dissipated in a poof of smoke. Something still felt off though, he couldn't place what. He walked over to the jukebox and nudged the eject button. A green music disc popped out and Brightside caught it and slid the record back into the jukebox. An upbeat synthetic track started playing and seemed to lighten the mood, but still, he felt a presence in the room, he turned around and his eyes scoured the darkness. He thought he saw a shadowy figure in the corner of the light, and he slowly approached, eyeing up the shadowy figure.
Wait. He knew the nature of this opponent, but too late to look away.
Purple gazing eyes appeared in the darkness and the Enderman's jaw unhinged, emitting a silent wail Brightside only felt in his mind. He cringed as the enderman took long strides toward him, mouth agape and arms flailing. Brightside shut his eyes and looked away, swiping blindly with his sword when the beast would be in range. He opened his eyes and saw he was slashing at thin air, but the voice still sounded like it was right in front of him. He felt his back lashed by the long whip-like arms and he stumbled, trying to keep his balance. He spun his blade around and managed to cut into one of the dark monster's arms, but it warped out of further danger's way in time. The wailing sound came from behind and Brightside readied his sword, prepared for a more direct battle. He twirled and sliced into thin air and he blinked heavily. He had to keep his wits about him to survive this fight.
"Come out here! Fight like a man, monster of Ender!"
The monster appeared before him, standing still and screaming. Brightside locked eyes with the monster, unsure if his taunt had coaxed it out or something else had drawn it out. He took one step forward and raised his sword in a dueling stance, would the creature take the bait? The enderman walked forward and lashed out with an arm, which Brightside blocked and chopped out of the way, but the long arm drove past his defenses despite the hits and knocked him in the chest. He slid a step backwards and held his blade up. "I'm not finished yet, beast!" He charged forward and the monster vanished from his bull rushing path and his mighty blow missed; his sword stuck into the wooden wall and he tugged it out. He turned in time to see the enderman holding a block of stone as he brought it down onto Brightside. He dodged out of the way and sliced at the enderman's legs as he darted past with surprising agility for an armored man. The monster hissed and chased Brightside across the ballroom, bounding over tables and jumping off chairs, always cutting at the monster's arms should it get too close. Finally, the monster had cornered Brightside; it was time to make a stand. Brightside wiped a trickle of blood off his brow and readied his sword for a final showdown as the monster strode forward with its heavy stone brick, prepared to crush the paladin's skull in. As the monster came into swinging range of the sword, it stopped. A few seconds passed as Brightside waited for the enderman to make the first move till he realized the monster was stuck, it's head too tall to enter the corner. He laughed and poked out at the nearest arm and he stabbed into the dark patchwork flesh. The monster squawked and jumped back, but walked back into range, feebly waving it's stone at Brightside. This is too funny! This dangerous monster becomes useless when backed into a corner, or something like that. Brightside thought happily as he slashed lazily at the enderman's flicking wrists. With his jagged blade's edge, he caught a portion of the arm and it came off, falling to the ground and leaving the block of stone on the red carpet. Brightside took the opportunity to lunge forward, he charged the monster from the End and this time there were no tricks: just a clean slice across that unhinged jaw that separated the head and mouth. The giant black beast fell to the ground with a final gurgling cry if pain and anguish, then disappeared in a puff if white smoke. A glistening dark pearl was nestled in the red carpet and Brightside grabbed it as he walked by. There were other floor's to check, other foes to fight. He wondered how long till the sun arose...
Anon stood on the rooftops near the community center, his fingers furiously arming and firing off arrows the moment he had a target in sight. Between the wave of zombies and other various nasties crawling through the village, he kept a constant check on anything he could hit. A spider was drawing near the town's church.
TWANG!
TWANG!
TWANG!
TWANG!
TWANG!
The spider received scattered showers of arrows across its body before it finally died. Curling like a wilted flower, how poetic. he thought, Anon turned his attention to the streets below again, watching Steve? make deadly progress as he hacked skillfully across the flesh scattered streets. Anon almost wished their bodies would stay around after death just so he could see the body count, but cleaning the mess would not be worth the effort. A zombie started moving silently up behind Steve? but to Anon he was clear as day; Anon drew back his bowstring, loaded with two arrows. He let fly and the arrows both lodged right into the undead's eyeballs, completely destroying its chances of dinner and its (second) life.
"MASSIVE DAMAGE!" cheered Anon. That was a really lucky shot, but no time to celebrate, there was a creeper on the east end of the city that needed to be-
TWANG!
An arrow stuck into Anon's leg and he couldn't help but yelp with surprise. A skeleton sitting upon a spider was already on top of the building with him, arming and aiming his next shot while the spider approached quickly. Anon stumbled to the side as another arrow flew past him. He hoped over the roof's crest to put the building's slant between him and the spider jockey. He snapped the arrow's shaft in his leg and tossed it to the side, pulling out 3 arrows from his quiver.
"That's fucking hax." he mumbled, this was the first time he had seen such co-operation between the mobs. He poked his head up from cover and readied his bow.
TWANG!
TWANG-THUNKTWANGTWANG-SPLURT
An arrow from the skeleton whizzed by his cheek as he released his own volley in a counter attack. One of his arrows hit it's mark: the skeleton's arm, one missed, and the third fell shorter than expected, but injured the spider below the skeleton. By the time the Jockey had regained orientation, another swarm of bolts hammered the duo. Some of the arrows hit, many missed, but the devastating rain of pain pushed the beast rider to the edge of the building.
TWANG, his mount died beneath him and the two tumbled backwards off the roof and out of sight. A sickening crunch; Anon's mask kept its cool smile, this time one of satisfaction. His work was done there. He looked below and saw that Steve? was passing by, collecting the loot. Steve? looked up and gave a thumbs up to Anon, who returned the gesture. The horizon was turning a faint purple and slowly switching to hues of pink, the dawn was approaching.
I walk away from the scene of carnage in the streets and approach the community center, opening one of the wooden doors and stepping inside. There is a smell of rotten flesh while I stoop my head in the low ceiling and my hand strays to my sword. I hear a crashing noise and a zombie's lifeless body tumbles down the staircase to my left. He lands at my feet and dissolves, his eyes fading away as he stares at me. Heavy footsteps sound from above and Brightside plods down the stairs. He looks like he's been through hell, his hair is disheveled, dents and scratches are scattered across his chest plate and the paint design is chipping off. There's a small trickle of blood going down his brow, which he wipes off as he sheaths his sword.
"So, streets all clear?" He asks casually. He looks tough, but I can see his arm is shaking ever so slightly, the man is tired, and so am I. I give him a gentle smile, "Yeah, lets get you some food. What the hell happened to you?" he holds up a dark pearl between his fingers.
"Have we got any cake left? I feel like I could eat the whole thing." he laughs. I walk out the door into the morning light, "I'll see what's left."
As we walk down the gravel road back to our house, a green figure abruptly turns the corner. It's not Anon, we're face to face with a creeper. Neither of us are quick enough to draw our swords, but the shovel I found...
"WHAT THE FU-"
CLANG!
I knock the swelling beast backwards into our watchtower, he blasts the cobblestone base to smithereens and me and Brightside are scathed by the explosion. We're both knocked flat on our asses, coughing and sputtering. A voice from above yells "WHAT WAS THAT?" Anon lowers himself down from the roofs and walks cautiously forward with his bow at the ready. Brightside and I wipe the dust and gravel off ourselves and give each other a smile and a growing chuckle, Anon joins in on our relived mirth. Everybody laughs as the villagers come out and wander the streets, all safe and sound under the dawn's warming sunlight that cleanses our very spirits.
It's just another night in Minecraft for us.
I close the book, resting atop the churches spires. Was it really so long ago I wrote this journal? I don't think so, the time seems to pass as the days roll by. /It's high noon, and I don't have a care in the world/ I think as I kick back my legs on the ramparts and lean back in my chair. There's a slight shuffling from my side and the Librarian anxiously watches me.
"Oh! I almost forgot, I'm sorry friend!" I answer in response to his silent reminder. I open the book and prod the ink sack with my feather again; I flip to the front cover and ponder a moment: how to sign it? I flip through the pages briefly, skimming over the dried pen strokes, thinking of a good title for it based on what I wrote. Finally I get an idea and I toy with it for a moment in my mind. It's a good one. I sign clearly in bold and blocky text Origins: By Steve? I pass off the finished book to him and he gives me a deep bow. He unfurls his sleeves and offers me a glistening green gemstone which I accept with equal respect.
"Take care of that, will you?" I ask the librarian. He nods and walks down the spiral staircase. I wait about a minute till I see him walking below on the expanded streets and towards the new library with the tome clutched tightly between his hands. I kick back and give a content sigh. I look to my right and notice he has left another sheet of paper. I pick it up; blank, with endless words to be written and uncountable possibilities of messages to convey. I notice the quill is still in my hand, and I smile at the villager's clever trick. Dipping in the Ink Sack again, I begin anew with a fresh pen stroke as a warm breeze ruffles my hair.
And the story continues...
Hey guys! Thought I'd try deviating from my Redrawn story to practice a bit of combative writing and different narrative perspectives; I accidently touched on some deep shit! I'm not sure if this will be a one-shot or a continuing series, your response will dictate.
These characters; the two new guys are Anon and Brightside, two of my DnD characters. Anon was a 7th or so level ranger in the 3.5 system, and he really was based on 4chan. He had an animal companion of Courage Wolf, or was going to... Brightside comes from the budding Legends system by Rule of Cool gaming (which you should totally check out if your into that: ), he's my NPC for this quest I'm DMing, I made him and his brother to challenge my brother and his characters when we first discovered the system.
For those that don't speak nerd, they were some character's I've made. I hope they don't count as OC's, since in a sense you are Anon and I might be Brightside (probably not though), but I wanted some supporting characters for Steve? that are sentient. They also help... y'know... literally support him...
Anyway, thanks for the read, hope I have provided the entertainment services expected of fanfic and more!
PS: I wrote this before the latest snapshot of books and trading came out, it was released about halfway through writing. I added the epilogue just because I like coincidences like that to work out.