I don't own Minecraft. The owner is Markus Persson aka Notch, the people who help him, Mojang, and the affiliates. I also don't own the Battle gear mod. The owner of that would be nerd-boy.
A/N OK so this is the 2nd chapter. I'm putting this up in hopes this story will become more popular. Like every story, it needs reviews if there are errors or poor structure or simply reviewing for the sake of reviewing. I'd be very happy if you did.
The moon was nearing the center of the sky. Stars shone down on the battlefield. Humans ran across with swords in hand. These footmen wore iron helmets and chest plates with leather pants and boots for added protection.
During the wither's recreation, more Notch added new things to his world. These included spiders, fast and flat creatures that could outrun humans. The only silver lining was that they were much calmer in the day. The cousins of these spiders were smaller but had a deadly bite.
Green creatures with a wish for self destruction with the added bonus of a dead human were known as creepers. They were silent and deadly, scarcely making a noise until they hissed and exploded.
Endermen were new, but rare. They were tall and dark with the ability to teleport. Occasionally they grabbed blocks, but usually they were docile. But if it was looked at, it would become enraged and attack the viewer. Strangely, water was a weakness of theirs, so warriors carried water bottles to throw if necessary.
As they ran, archers provided them cover. Arrows flew from the bows of both archers and skeletons. Spiders jumped over most groups to land and crush infantry. The smaller cousins of the spider compensated with deadly venom. Many who escaped with what they thought was a mere bite died in agonizing pain soon after. Blurs of green only disappeared with explosions.
One warrior was slicing through a zombie when an arrow struck into his helmet. It did not go through, but the pain of the impact stunned the warrior. Almost instantly he was surrounded and bit by a horde of zombies.
He hobbled away to his side of the war and rested, but soon succumbed to the infection. As his vision turned wavy and his pain was ebbing with his life, he grabbed his sword and stabbed himself.
Another soldier grabbed his tag (string with a piece of carven wood on it). He bowed his head in silent mourning and ran into the battle. His name was Steve, named after the very first human who started it all. In fact, he was a direct descendant of that Steve. He climbed a small tower built for archers. Here he saw a sign that they were losing this war.
A skeleton leered at Steve, readied his arrow and pulled back. Steve ducked, the arrow scraping his iron helmet.
The momentum of the arrow scrape pulled him back, saving him from the sword slice of the skeleton's cousin. Taller than Steve, it glared down at him and struck again with his sword. Steve sidestepped, feeling the wind rush near the blade. He readied his own sword in a defensive stance, and not a moment too soon. The stone blade cracked against his iron one, however, and Steve pushed back. As if a potion of strength had been injected into him, he shattered the stone. The wither skeleton was enraged and grabbed Steve.
Pinning him against the wall, the dark skeleton was choking Steve. He scrambled to grvb some gunpowder from his pouch, and threw it on the skeleton. Nothing happened, and Steve had expected this. He snatched his flint and steel and brushed them together. A spark came out and touched the gunpowder.
The skeleton's ashy bones, charred from the fires of the Nether, flew in all directions. Steve was pushed even further into the wall, and nearly blacked out. He guzzled a potion of healing down, then a potion of swiftness. The sugar in the swiftness potion would keep him awake, and the healing potion would do as its name would suggest.
The bone white skeleton, stunned by the explosion, recovered and aimed an arrow at Steve and fired. This time, Steve deflected the arrow with his sword, rushing towards the undead archer. He flung the skeleton's bow out of its hand. Steve then used the pommel to smash in its skull, and finished by stabbing through the skull.
Tired, he grabbed the bow and provided arrow support while his comrades retreated. He briefly wondered how the skeletons had gotten up here, since there used to be a human archer here. Turning his head, under the skeleton was the skewered and bloodied remains of a human archer.
Watching the dead bodies made him feel sick. Even the dead mobs seemed like a waste of life to him. But he knew they would never stop. He believed the legend of the Creation, and nearly wished humans never had harmed the peaceful creatures. But what happened could not be changed. He focused on the survival of his kind, and how it seemed impossible.
The wither had been reborn, and with it came a vast army of wither skeletons. Though it was only the wither who wanted to kill all life, the wither skeletons still weren't happy about helping the regular mobs. But they allied to destroy the human race. So a great war began, and it seemed the constant spawning of mobs outweighed the skill of the humans. The humans were being decimated, but refused to give up.
The day brought light, and calmed the spiders. Normally. But what the humans did not know was that the wither had influenced the bats, making them fly into the sky, and in great numbers. So great were their numbers, in fact, that they blocked out the sunlight. (A/N It's similar to the Kryll from Gears of War, owned by Epic Games) Unfortunately, this meant the mobs would not burn or turn docile. The war never had to stop.
Human blacksmiths and inventors got to work on new weapons and such. An apothecary soon invented the invisibility potion. This allowed for safer scouting, and even a few sneak attacks on the enemy line.
Then the new weapons came. There was the new shield (A/N If you're familiar with the Battle gear mod then you recognize these weapons), the spear, and even dual wielding swords. Even with this, battles ended with scarce victory or retreat. The mobs were slowly but steadily pushing the humans into their last haven, a city known as the Landing. This was the site where the first humans were created. Unfortunately, it seemed the site of humanity's creation would be the site of its destruction.
It started to look so dire for the humans that some soldiers had TNT in their pockets. Once they were fallen and swarmed, they would light the TNT. Blood and pieces flew everywhere, marking one honorable soldier taking down a mob of mobs as his last duty.
Steve was at rest, in the infirmary. Well, at rest would suggest he was relaxed. Instead, he was being pestered by nurses who were trying to see if he had some concussion or something, even as he insisted he was fine after drinking the potion of healing. Finally, they let him go to wait for the next battle nearby.
He didn't have to wait long.
An army of mobs was coming towards his base camp, and with most of the soldiers wounded or dead, it didn't look like they could survive this new wave. His heart dropped into his stomach as a siren blared through the camp.
Even after retreating, the mobs had followed to obliterate his part of the army. Archers shot arrows from quivers as the mobs neared the base camp's walls. Creepers ran up only to explode against the wall. The rest of the mobs entered through these gaping entrances.
The humans were trapped between a wall of mobs and a stone wall. A scout ran to the center of the roof and lit 3 fireworks. They shot up into the air and made the signal that signified certain death and the overrunning of a camp.
Steve paled, having basically been marked as dead. Unsheathing his sword, he ran downstairs to see carnage. The zombies swarmed soldiers. The trapped let out bloodcurdling screams of agony until it abruptly stopped. The undead moved away, and only shreds of clothes and tags were left.
Soldiers lay on the ground, dying of arrows. They either were crawling away with arrows sticking out like spines, or dead in a pool of blood. Some warriors decided to run out, trying to reach the Landing. They were torn limb from limb by the army that surrounded the entire base camp.
Steve watched, pushed some bile down, and ran to an emergency trapdoor. He was only able to keep a steady head by staying inside, but those soldiers outside had lost their minds and forgotten about these exits. It was hidden by some dirt. He sheathed his sword and opened the trapdoor. Just as he was about to jump in, he saw a rookie about to run out the door.
Evidently he hasn't seen me, thought Steve. He grabbed the rookie's leg and tugged. The young soldier looked down in horror, only to have relief rush into his features as he saw it was only Steve.
"Come on," Steve ordered, "we have to escape. Now would be the best time, as the mobs haven't gotten inside the smaller structures within the base camp. I don't know how much longer we have 'til then, so hurry up."
Steve climbed out to let the rookie in first, then entered himself and closed the trapdoor. Before descending, he reached through the hole and pulled the dirt on top. The block of dirt covered the trapdoor.
The two soldiers were going down into the old catacomb system. They had escaped the mob army, but who knows what they could find in the catacombs. They were so old that some of the torches might have fizzled out, leaving some parts dark. This could mean mobs spawned in.
As they reached the bottom rung, they could hear hissing and rattling down the halls. Steve put a carrot in his mouth to munch on and unsheathed his sword. The rookie adjusted his helmet and grabbed his sword.