Vialin pushed open the door of his Nether-bunker. Fortunately, he had managed to avoid the ghasts and their dreaded explosive fire balls. He dumped his cargo onto the carpeted floor, the closes thing to a bed that could be safely used in The Nether. The air was stifling due to the heat and it didn't help his mood one bit. The intruder would need tending to if Vialin wanted to get any information from him. Using two diamonds he had with him as well as some wood that he kept in the small chest. Using his last porkchop on the stranger, Vialin set off to slaughter some zombie pigmen for their meat.
Pushing the door open once more, Vialin stumbled his way through the doorway. The hunting was harder than usual as the ghasts seemed aggravated to the point that they were launching fireballs indiscriminately But he got his macabre prize despite the fire and hell he went through.
The first thing he noticed was that his intruder was siting upright, conscious, and sporting a lovely pair of goggles. A moment passed between them as all the frustration and pain Vialin had been through struggled in vain against his exhaustion. Neither of them moved for a moment until the distant cry of a ghast broke the silence that held the two in gridlock. Vialin closed the door and sat heavily on top of the chest to rest.
"Before we get anywhere and before anybody makes any rash moves they would regret, I would like to know, from you, why in the name of all that is holy were you chased to my home and why that man with the pitch black eyes decided to burn my beloved house to the ground," Vialin said very carefully as his ire rose from having to remember the recent events. He purposely kept his diamond sword out to drive home the point.
The stranger sat with a grim look on his face. He looked embarrassed and offended at the same time. It was clear he was working up the right words to say in this situation. Vialin could wait. All he really wanted to do was to sleep, but there was no way that was going to happen in this forsaken place.
"I am truly sorry for what has befallen you," the stranger said slowly. "I did not mean for such tragedy to chance upon anybody else. I am- was hunted by a madman and assassin. He has hunted me mercilessly for so long. He has no discrimination in the harm he causes. All innocents are simply obstacles in his path," the stranger said in a flat voice.
"Why are you being hunted, though," Vialin asked through narrowed eyes.
"As I said, he is a mad man. What little information I gathered on him seems to connect him to a fanatical order intent on destruction. Why they wish destruction, I do not know," the stranger replied. A quiet moment passed between the two once again. Vialin' mind sharpened as a second wind from his exhaustion. Something didn't seem to add up.
"So this cult has chased you across Minecraftia, destroying everything in their path for the sole purpose of killing you. And you expect me to believe that you were simply chosen at random to be the target of their wrath," Vialin said with a vexed tone to his voice. He saw little reason to be subtle or gentle in this situation.
"I am not a random target, but the innocents are. I am an expert in the old legends, the same ones they hold so close to their hearts that they rip them out through heinous acts," The stranger said with a stern look.
"And how do I know you are not lying to my face? You could just as easily be a murderer and hiding behind me, waiting for the best moment to ram a knife through my back," Vialin said through hard eyes.
The tension in the room was so thick it smothered the hellscape around them. The two were locked in a mental knife fight, a blade to the stranger's throat in more than one way.
"You accuse me of being a murderer and yet you were the one who saved me. You could have left me to die at the hands of that devil yet you didn't. When you looked into those eyes did you see sympathy, or justice, or even pure revenge? No, you saw evil as black as deepest hole and darkest night.
"You say you lost your house to the fire of that creature. Why would he attack you? He could have easily walked in and gutted me with a sword, leaving you with nothing more than blood soaked boards. Yet your creation is destroyed and we are here in this twilight realm. If I was chased by a demon for murder, why were you also a target," the stranger said with venom in his mouth. A nerve was clearly struck and Vialin could only smile.
He had a point. The attacker could have finished the job with a quick stab of a sword. Instead Vialin got a fresh arrow scar and his prized possession destroyed. A shudder ran through Vialin once again as the eyes of the attacker appeared in his mind again; dead, unfeeling, inhuman, predatory. Eyes like that could inspire terror in the strongest of men. It was truly the stuff of nightmares.
"Very well," Vialin finally said looking at the goggled stranger, "but before this goes any further, the very least I need to know is your name."
"I am called Santiago. I was a simple traveler until I became the prey of this twisted cabal," the stranger replied, shifting his position on the rug to a more relaxed position. Vialin made the same show of good faith and put his sword away on his belt. The knives sheathed, at least for a moment.
"Well Santiago, I am Vialin. We are currently in an underground bunker in the Nether after I carried your unconscious body through a portal and destroyed it from this side. The real question that should be asked is 'What next'," Vialin said getting off the chest and eating a porkchop to help ease his wounds.
"What do you mean what next," Santiago replied with a confused look. "I have to keep running from them or else they will finally strike me down. I want to survive."
"That is nonsense and you know it," Vialin said darkly, much to Santiago's surprise. "Nobody runs for no reason. If they found you every single time you hid, what hope do you have of staying away from them forever? You also say you don't want any innocents harmed and yet you hide among them, using them like a shield. I have a motto I have lived by, 'If you do not create, you only destroy.' You cannot create if you don't stop."
"Then what do you expect me to do? They will hunt me till the end of time. You saw how powerful they are. They are everywhere! There is nothing that can be done to stop them! They are a force of nature too powerful to conquered alone!"
"Then don't fight alone," Vialin shouted, brandishing his sword with passion. "Build an army and fight back! Thin their ranks, demolish their bases, weaken their grip. You have just as many tools at your disposal as they do yet you refuse to pick them up. You killed all those innocents, not those fanatics! You sat cowered in the corner as their fire followed in your wake, scorching the earth and burning innocents! You really are a murderer, not in action, but inaction."
The world was silent as the words hung in the air like icicles. Even the ghasts had stopped there relentless barrage to listen to the fight. Vialin knew he was right because he was a coward of inaction a long time ago. The screams still haunt his dreams to this day, forcing solitude upon himself to keep the demons from driving him mad.
Santiago hung his head. Pain rose in his chest as the words cut deep into his soul. Vialin sheathed his sword once more. He felt even more drained than when this whole ordeal started. As taxed as he felt now, his heart was now filled with the heat of revenge. His buildings and creations were his family, and now one of them have been murdered in cold blood. His blood boiled at the thought of those black eyes destroying anything in its path.
"What are you going to do," Santiago said quietly. Vialin turned to this stranger who had brought misfortune upon him and his family.
"Go on the hunt. If you chose to run, leave now. I would rather die with a broken sword in my hand than a broken spirit in my chest."
"Please, let me help you," Santiago said desperately, struggling to rise to his feet quickly. "It has been such a long time since I have seen passion like yours! You have kindled my spirits, yet I still cower under their gaze. Please let me join you in your quest to rid the world of this evil! I have seen enough blood spilled to stain the ocean red! I wish the madness to end," Santiago pleaded, seizing Vialin by his shirt. Vialin smiled after a pause that seemed to last forever. Salvation and redemption always made him smile.
"Very, Santiago. We shall rid the world of this demon or be forever removed from its embrace. But we must be smart about this. If they truly are as powerful as you say they are, It will take more than blades and arrows to win." Why are they so powerful? Is it arms? Numbers? Ruthlessness? What is their main advantage," Vialin asked as his mind raced for a plan. However for a plan to work he would need information. And Santiago was the only source around.
Santiago stood motionless as he tried to think about the threat they now faced. Vialin decided to busy himself with making proper equipment. Fortunately there was a few spare bit s of gear laying around; a few simple tools, a crafting table, and a decent supply of iron ingots he had forgotten about. The atmosphere of the Nether made it hard to concentrate on the task at hand but he had no other choice but to grit his teeth.
"They are immortal," Santiago said suddenly. Vialin turned to him with an puzzled expression. Immortal? Not such thing exists in this world except the bedrock that holds the world up.
"What do you mean immortal? They have a large supply of food? They have stocks of diamond armor? What makes them immortal," Vialin said trying to make sense of the statement.
Santiago looked embarrassed at the clarification but continued "None of those things. They are immortal. Weapons do not kill them, their bodies never stop, they continue to march forever." Vialin was silent, a look of incredulity across his brow. Santiago was making not sense. Maybe it would be best to try an gather information on his own.
"Would you believe me if I told you this world was not random, that every block and creature was placed long ago? Would you believe me if I told you that there are forces stronger than anybody could comprehend? This cult follows the teaching of a very old religion, one I am an expert on," Santiago continued. "They have found a way to tap into the power of the old gods. They do not rest. They do not stop. They do not tire. They do not die.
"I fought back once. Managed to disarm completely and pin him to a tree. Ran my sword through him up to the hilt and into the tree, but he kept moving. I pumped him full of arrows till my bow string snapped and he was a moving pile of feathers and bloody sticks. I even buried him in a tomb of sand hoping to suffocate him. I could still hear the muffed grunts of exertion as he tried to murder me despite being more weapon than person. When I saw that they cannot be killed, I panicked and have been running ever since."
Vialin tried to wrap his mind around the concept. Old gods? Indestructible soldiers? His enemy was more than mortal in all respects. Despair doused the fire in his heart as the futility of his fight began to dawn on him. He was against an army with supernatural power at their disposal. He was in a bunker in the Nether with nothing but a handful of iron. The situation was bleak indeed.
"Where exactly are they getting their power? What legends did they use to discover such vast power. And does it have anything to do with you being hunted," Vialin asked. Things were getting out of hand very quickly.
Santiago sighed deeply. "If you sit down I will tell you all I know. The legend that they base their power off of is called The Legend of the Two Brothers."