Book 1: The Mob Invasion
Chapter 4: Testificate

Days Since the Mob Invasion: 744

Redstone torches were quite the curiosity. Used by inhabitants of Minecraftia for centuries, these "torches" were not really torches at all. Attaching a chunk of redstone to the end of a stick with a piece of rope or twine, you could shake the stick and the redstone would react to the movements by producing a dim, red glow. Just shaking the torch for a few minutes would give the redstone enough energy to produce enough light to last for one or two months. The major drawback from redstone torches in comparison to regular torches was that the light they produced was not enough for most situations where light was required. Another drawback being that redstone was much harder to come across than coal. Still, Sofie had put enough redstone torches along the walls in the small, underground alchemy lab that Alan was able to clearly see most of the room... Except for one dark corner in the back of the room, in which a horrible groan lazily rung out.

"Grarghh... Graaauugh..."

Alan shuddered as he heard the zombie's moans from the cage. Even though the zombie was shackled to the wall and also locked inside a metal cell, Alan couldn't help but check over his shoulder from time to time to make sure the zombie was still in place. He had been reading Sofie's journal for the better part of an hour by now. He realized that Sofie was an incredibly detailed individual when it came to alchemy, with not even one step of her brewing process being left out in her writing. The journal mostly contained various alchemy experiments, all of them failed from what he could tell, about how to cure zombism. Occasionally, however, she would include a snippet from her own personal life in between the pages of complex alchemy recipes.

"Day: 703

Gunpowder and I got into another fight today. She really doesn't like the fact that me and Sugar are seeing each other. Maybe she thinks I'm going to move out and move in with him? I don't know. As much as I love him, I couldn't move out, not right now. I can't leave the alchemy lab behind, not when I feel like I'm so close to making a breakthrough! I don't think I could convince Cobblestone to build me another lab like this either. He's so funny sometimes! Redstone and I had tea earlier this evening. It was nice catching up with her.

I should try to see how gold shavings react in my next trial. Thankfully, since the mobs took over the Empire, gold is a lot less valuable than it used to be! I think I have a few spare coins lying around. Will document my findings tomorrow."

Alan scratched the back of his head after finishing up the entry. Gunpowder, Sugar, Cobblestone, and Redstone were all codenames that she had given several members in Hunter's Watch from what he could tell from her previous entries as well as this one. As of right now, it was impossible for him to determine who was who in terms of the codenames. He also couldn't really figure out the reasoning for her giving the others codenames in the first place other than maybe she was scared that her sisters, Rinoa and Lana, might find her diary? Which also brought along some questions as to what exactly happened between the three of them.

Sofie and Rinoa were dead according to what Frederick and Daren had told him earlier today before leaving him at his new house, but how did they die? Frederick and Daren both seemed a little cryptic about it. Maybe they just didn't want to bring up any bad memories? And why was Lana so hostile toward him earlier? He rubbed the area on his forearm where Lana had stabbed him earlier that day and where he had used a potion of healing to mend the wound. All traces of the stab were gone, but he still couldn't help but shudder as he remembered the feeling of Lana's dagger slicing into his flesh and rubbing against the bone. Was the reason why she didn't like him because he was taking her sister's spot as the alchemist? He sighed and closed the journal.

At any rate, there's no point in me trying to decipher a dead girl's diary, Alan thought to himself. Besides, it doesn't look like she was successful in finding a cure anyway.

He looked back at the dark corner, hearing the metal from the zombie's shackles clatter against the cobblestone wall. A cure for zombism? There's no way. Sofie might as well have been trying to invent a cure for death. Still, as naive as her goal may have been, he couldn't help but admire what she was trying to accomplish.

Walking out of the dark alchemy lab, he made sure to close the hidden entrance to the room behind him. He walked up the stairs and made his way to the lounge area of his new home. Settling in a chair in front of the burning fireplace, he leaned his head back as he rested for the first time in months. When you're living on your own out there, without any house or community to keep you safe, taking a moment to just so much as sit down and rest your eyes is a dangerous luxury. You never know if when you open your eyes again whether or not you'll be surrounded by zombies, creepers, or griefers. Sleeping is even worse, leaving you vulnerable for even longer. Alan considered himself a lucky man every morning that he woke up harm-free.

But now? He didn't have to worry about that. Not anymore. For once, he could finally just close his eyes and rest. Not even bothering to try and make it to one of the beds, Alan leaned back in the stiff, wooden chair and drifted off into the best night's sleep he'd had in over a year.

Days Since the Mob Invasion: 745

"All in favor, say 'aye'!" Frederick bellowed before the congregation of Hunter's Watch. Immediately there was a small chorus of "aye!" from the citizens. Alan looked around at the people within the makeshift courthouse, still trying to familiarize himself with the faces and names.

Daren, the first citizen of Hunter's Watch that he had met, was probably the one he was most well acquainted with so far. Wearing full chainmail at all times, Daren was no doubt the town's designated warrior. He had a long spear in his hand that was taller than he was with an obsidian tip, and a short spear attached to his back with an iron tip. On his left wrist, he had a crude, metal plated buckler that looked like it had seen better days. His long, black hair was tied in a ponytail behind his head, and he had a short, black beard. Always watchful, his eyes always looked stern and calculating, as if he was looking for the first sign of trouble in any situation. He appeared older than he was, but Alan figured his real age was probably in his middle to early 20s. He voted "aye."

Another person Alan was familiar with was Hunter, who was sitting in the corner in the back of the room smoking tobacco from a pipe, barely concerned with the vote. Hunter, true to his name, looked like a typical hunter gatherer. He donned a light, leather armour with various ocelot and bear furs sewn on the outside for warmth. He had messy blond hair with a patchy beard that he didn't seem too concerned with tidying up. A young man, Hunter looked like he could have just turned 20. He also voted "Aye," albeit unenthusiastically.

And how could anyone forget Zeke? The dark, tall, muscular man who stood at least a foot above everyone else in the room. Unmistakably Southern, Zeke was, from what Alan could tell, the muscle to Frederick's brains. He was a slow talker, but he spoke loud. You could probably hear him whisper all the way across town, Alan thought. He was bald for the most part, and he had a long, wiry grey beard. His clothing consisted of some raggedy pants, a sleeveless twill shirt, and not much else. Not even shoes. Alan thought it weird that he lacked armour, until he saw the size of the sword dangling from his hip. Zeke had a long, two-handed iron sword sheathed to his side. Alan figured with a sword that large, Zeke probably wouldn't need armour; his enemies would all be dead before they could even get into striking distance. Zeke gave a boisterous "Aye!" in the vote.

A man that Alan hadn't had the opportunity to speak to yet was the man sitting in the front row. A middle-aged man by the name of George. He had disheveled brown hair, like he had just rolled out of bed. He had a long-sleeved, white shirt with some brown pants and boots. Alan noticed that he couldn't help but seem... antsy. He occasionally rocked back and forth in his seat like he couldn't sit still. And he kept looking toward the exit door longingly. In the vote, he voted "Aye," and then immediately got up to go leave.

Weird, Alan thought to himself.

And then there was the leader: Frederick. Frederick was a distinctly Northern man who looked like he had spent his entire life in the Capitol before the mob invasion. Pale, as most Northerners of Minecraftia were, Frederick was a very neat looking man. His white hair was neatly combed back with a freshly clean-cut face. Even from this distance, Alan could smell a strong scent of smelling spices on him. He clearly wasn't ready to give up his Capitol life of luxury, even in the middle of the end of the world. He wore a silky, purple robe with some well-oiled black boots. Compared to the rest of the group, Frederick looked like he was still living comfy and cozy back in the Capitol. Even his accent was unmistakably Capitol. Alan's was as well, but his was not nearly as thick as Frederick's. He did not vote in the process as he was the "judge" of Hunter's Watch and was not allowed to vote. Still, he seemed pleased with the outcome, and judging by the speech he gave Alan earlier yesterday, he was probably going to vote "aye," anyway. Frederick smiled at the end of the vote.

"Very good! Congratulations, Alan, you are officially-"

"Nay," a voice came out from the back of the room. Everybody turned to see Lana sitting in the back by herself. Her face was scornful as she looked directly at Alan. She was wearing a simple blue and white dress, with a small dagger hanging from her side attached to her belt. She had long, red hair that she let fall over her shoulders, and her eyes were a bright blue. If she hadn't stabbed him earlier and also been constantly been shooting glares at him, Alan might have even considered her pretty. She looked like she could be a year or two older than him, but not too much. She was sitting with her arms crossed, clearly displeased by the outcome of the vote.

Frederick looked over at Daren and Daren looked back to him. "Uh, I'm sorry?" Frederick asked Lana, just a little uncomfortable.

"I vote nay to him joining." Lana clarified bluntly, refusing to break eye-contact with Alan.

"I understand, Lana, but... well, the vote has already passed. He's officially a member of Hunter's Watch now." Lana shook her head at Frederick and stood up, brushing the wrinkles from her dress.

"Oh yeah? And what about Rin, eh? I don't recall you ever putting a vote up for-"

"You will not mention that murderous bitch's name around me or anyone else anymore, do you understand?!" Frederick barked, silencing Lana. The sudden outburst made Alan jump, and he felt for his heart to make sure that it hadn't stopped beating. For a few tense seconds there was silence as Lana and Frederick stared each other down. Alan couldn't help but feel a little uneasy by the awkwardness of the situation as he started to sweat. Hunter, still smoking, was clearly starting to feel a little awkward himself as he looked over at Lana and let out a puff of smoke.

"Lana..." he called out. Lana looked over at him and he shook his head.

Not now, he mouthed silently to her.

She frowned at him, but didn't say anything. Finally, after what felt like an hour of tension, she turned and walked out, slamming the door of the courthouse behind her. Alan let out a sigh of relief, then turned to Daren beside him.

"What is her problem?" Alan asked, starting to become more than a little annoyed at Lana's action's toward him since he arrived in Hunter's Watch. "I haven't even done anything!"

"Wellp," Hunter let out, finally standing up, "She's a bit in... what's the word for it? Grief? Yeah, she's a bit in grief right now. Losing two of your sisters within a month will kind of do that to you." Hunter walked over to Alan and gave him a pat on the back. "But don't worry about her. You're in!" Hunter laughed. "Congratulations!"

"Congratulations indeed, Alan," Frederick said walking over to him. "I hope you won't let Lana's little outburst here today ruin your first impression of Hunter's Watch. I assure you, we're all absolutely thrilled to have you be a part of us. Isn't that right, Zeke?" Frederick asked, motioning for Zeke to come over to him.

"That's right! But we'd be even more excited if you could use that fancy alchemy of yours to brew us up some beer or ale!" Zeke's voice boomed as he gave a firm, handshake to Alan. Alan let out a small laugh, thankful that everyone seemed so on board to have him join. Well, except for Lana.

"Some ale would be nice. I'm running low myself," Hunter opened up a jug of what appeared to be alcohol before taking several large gulps. Raising it all the way up until empty, he took his lips away from it and let out a very impressive burp. "Hehe, excuse me."

"Are you drunk already?" Daren spoke up, walking over to Alan and Hunter. Hunter chuckled.

"When am I not?" he said, his words starting to have a slight slur to them. Daren furrowed his brow, clearly not amused.

"I thought you were going to take new guy on a trading run today?" he reminded Hunter firmly. Hunter stared blankly for a few seconds before scratching the back of his head. Finally, his eyes shot open.

"Oh shit! New guy! Testificate village! Trades!" his speech was fragmented and mostly just him shouting random words that Alan had no idea how to decipher. Frederick laughed at Alan's clear confusion.

"You have to excuse Hunter. When he's drunk - which is most of the time - he tends to be a little..." Frederick trailed off, not finishing. "Start from the top, Hunter," Frederick smiled. Hunter rubbed his brow, trying to massage out a headache that was already starting to creep up on him.

"That came out jumbled, sorry. Got excited." Hunter looked back up and into Alan's eyes with a smirk on his face. "I got a job for you."

The sun was just starting to set on the Southern Badlands as Alan and Hunter made their way down the dusty road towards their destination. The sky was a beautiful mixture of purple and orange with puffy, dark blue clouds dotted throughout the stratosphere. Serving as a backdrop to the mud-orange mesas and canyons, it looked like an ideal scene for a painting. Yet Alan couldn't help but sense a certain type of ominous feeling. Perhaps it was nervousness from the possibility of running across any mobs? Maybe he was just feeling skittish by being near Hunter, a man he barely knew. Either way, Alan couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

"So, the Testificates survived the mob invasion?" Alan asked his traveling companion, trying to distract himself from his own paranoia. Hunter took a swig from his refilled jug of alcohol and nodded.

"Yes siree. The village up here has managed to survive pretty alright from what I can tell. Then again, they're lucky enough to have a golem. Villages that didn't, though... well... just look at what happened to Spawn Pointe." Hunter paused for a second to allow himself another swig of his jug. "Besides," he continued, "the Testificates are piss-poor fighters. Most of them, anyway. Real pacifists, you know what I mean? Still. That worked out pretty good for us because, well, they're pretty much the only group of people that I've met that didn't try to kill me on sight." Hunter laughed.

"Has Hunter's Watch had many problems with other groups before? With griefers?" Alan winced at the word "griefers," memories flashing through his mind.

"Hmm... No, not really." Hunter responded. "Lana, your new best friend, is a redstone engineer. She worked together with George to produce some pretty nasty traps around Hunter's Watch. Most of them catch zombies or creepers, though. That coupled with the fact that me, Daren, and Zeke take shifts on gate duty, it's pretty safe to say that Hunter's Watch is pretty damn secured." Hunter looked over at Alan and smiled confidently. "You can sleep easy at night, don't worry."

Alan nodded, slightly relieved. Nowadays, nobody could ever be fully safe from harm, but it seemed to him that Hunter's Watch was about as secure as it got anymore. He still couldn't believe his luck finding it.

"Hey," Hunter spoke up again. "I wanted to thank you for fixing my shoulder up yesterday. It feels like I never even hurt it to begin with." He smiled at Alan, stretching his shoulder to demonstrate the new range of motion that he had compared to yesterday. "I also want to apologize again for Lana. Yesterday was pretty bad in terms of first impressions, but I promise you she's not always like that." He wasn't expecting Alan to overlook getting stabbed in the forearm for practically no reason, but he at least figured that some explanation would help. "We've just all been going through a lot recently," he continued. "Especially Lana. Had you showed up about a month or so earlier, I really think you guys would have gotten along well."

Alan thought for a second, trying to figure out why Lana seemed to hate him so much in the first place, then he remembered something Frederick mentioned earlier that day in the courthouse.

"Hey, Hunter. What did Frederick mean earlier today when he mentioned Rinoa? He called her a murderer, but I thought Rinoa was Lana's sister along with Sofie, right? Did something happen?" In any normal circumstance Alan would almost feel wrong for asking something so bluntly, but given the circumstances he felt like the more he knew, the better.

Hunter stopped walking for a second and stared at the ground. He took yet another chug of alcohol with even bigger gulps this time. He pulled the jug away from his lips and sighed.

"Well, shit... I was hoping you wouldn't catch on to that," he admitted.

"If you don't want to talk about it..."

"No, no," Hunter interrupted. "It's probably best that you hear it from me anyway. Frederick or Zeke might try to bullshit you with it, and trying to get a conversation out of Daren is like trying to break open a chunk of obsidian with your hands." Hunter looked around making sure that there weren't any mobs in the immediate area before continuing. "Where do you want me to begin? The part where Sofie died, or the part where Rinoa killed Frederick's nephew because she thought he killed her?"

Alen let out a whistle, "Damn." Alan could already tell that the situation at Hunter's Watch was more complex than he originally thought. "Start from the beginning, I guess."

Hunter nodded.

"Well, let's see... Sofie, Lana, and Rinoa are all sisters. Sofie was the youngest, Rinoa was in the middle, and Lana was the oldest with all of them being born about three years apart, give or take a month or two. They were living in Hunter's Watch happy as a clam. Never had any problems with either of them, personally, but I'm a fairly easy guy to get along with, you know what I mean?' Hunter winked, nudging Alan with his elbow. The smell of alcohol was heavy on his breath, and Alan took a step back, raising an eyebrow.

"Continue..." he requested.

"Right, sorry. Anyway, one day Sofie shows up on the other side of the wall dead. Half-eaten, it was a gory mess. Apparently she had gone out early that morning to collect alchemy ingredients, but got cornered by a mob and killed. Well, needless to say, Lana and Rinoa both took this pretty hard. Rinoa eventually got this notion in her head that Sofie's boyfriend, William, had killed her and dumped her body over the wall."

"And did he?" Alan inquired. Hunter shrugged.

"I mean, I don't think so, but Rinoa was deadset on believing that he did. William was on guard duty that morning, and he's the one that found Sophie's body, so Rinoa was more than a little suspicious. Considering that William was Frederick's nephew, you could see how this could cause some strife in the group. Well, about a week or two ago, we find William on the other side of the wall now. Chewed to death by a pack of zombies. Originally, we had thought that he had gotten drunk and fell over considering there was a bottle of alcohol next to him. The next day, Lana comes up to me and tells me that Rinoa had told her that she had killed William. Knocked him off the wall and planted the bottle to make it look like an accident."

Alan remembered reading Sofie's diary last night and considered mentioning it to Hunter, but decided against it. It's not like it'd do much good anyway, he thought.

"So, I guess this Rinoa isn't around anymore then, eh?"

Hunter laughed and kicked some dirt with his boots.

"Well, that depends on what you mean by 'around'." he said. "Frederick, of course, wanted her dead. Daren probably would have done it considering he and William were decent friends, but I was able to convince them to let me handle it."

"So," Alan asked, "what did you do?"

"Took her into the Nether. Traveled down in that god-forsaken place for 3 days before we finally resurfaced. After that, I took her compass, and left her there. Banished, I guess. But, hell, it's a whole lot better than what Frederick was planning on doing with her. They say that a day's journey in the Nether is about eight days' journey in the overworld. So, I left her about a month out from us."

Alan scratched his chin and thought for a minute.

"There's no way she'd be able to track herself back to Hunter's Watch? I mean, she sounds kind of dangerous. You sure she wouldn't try to come back and get revenge?" he asked.

Hunter's eyes darted down for a second as he felt a sick feeling of guilt in his stomach.

Well, other than the fact that the bitch was able to snag my compass somehow? he asked himself. It's true. He didn't realize until he made it back to Hunter's Watch, but somehow in their scuffle Rinoa had managed to steal his compass while he was able to keep hers. Of course, he hadn't told anyone this yet. He was considering telling Lana yesterday, but that was before she went crazy and attacked Alan. After that, well, he just didn't seem to think now would be the best time for her.

"Nope," Hunter said, shooting Alan a confident smile. "Rin was always a shit tracker who couldn't tell east from west, and I left her ass all the way near the Red Mountains, northern most end of the country. And it's a big damn country. We'll be fine. Now, come on, we still have about two or so miles before we make it to the village." And with a friendly pat on the back, Hunter and Alan were once again on their way to the Testificates.

For the most part, the rest of their trip was spent in silence while Alan contemplated this new found information. He couldn't help but think of Sofie's diary, and a chill was sent up his spine. He knew she was dead when he read it last night, but knowing that he had read the diary of a possibly murdered girl just felt very unsettling to him. Then again, this Rinoa girl sounded like a paranoid maniac, so maybe Sofie wasn't murdered after all. The thought that Rinoa, Lana's sister, killed William in a fit of grief-fueled paranoia? Well, the whole thing made Alan really start to understand Lana's behavior the past two days. He started to sympathize with her, even starting to feel bad for his attitude earlier. Then again, it's not like he could have known.

Alan's train of thought was abruptly interrupted by Hunter's hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks and snapping him back into reality.

"Get down!" Hunter whispered, quiet but firm. Alan immediately crouched down beside Hunter. "Follow me," Hunter commanded as Alan tailed him as they hid behind a bush. Alan's heart started to race as he wondered what it was Hunter saw. By this time, the sun had completely set on Minecraftia, and the darkness had enveloped them.

"What's wrong?" Alan asked, peeping around the bush. Hunter didn't respond immediately, squinting his eyes to look for something.

"Somebody has been here. See that smoke rising above the village?" Hunter pointed and Alan peered into the distance at the small Testificate village on the horizon. Though it was getting dark, Hunter was right. There was multiple pillars of white smoke floating above the little town.

"What should we do?" Alan asked, his heartbeat speeding up. Hunter looked over at him with a stern expression, his once easy-going demeanor gone.

"You know how to fight?" he asked.

Alan gulped and clutched the handle of the iron shortsword bound to his hip. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he nodded. Alan had fought several mobs throughout the invasion, but he had only ever fought in situations in which running was impossible.

"Yes," he said, as convincingly as he could.

"Good," Hunter remarked. "If they're zombies, we shouldn't have too much of a problem. If you see any creepers, let me handle them with my bow and arrow, I'll be able to take them on from a distance. Try to stay together. I'll cover your back if you cover mine. Deal?" Hunter asked. Alan nodded again.

"Deal. But... what if it's not the mobs? What if it's griefers?" Alan asked shakily. Hunter looked back over to the village and then back at Alan.

"Run like hell."

Approaching the village, the smell of smoke filled Alan's nostrils. However, it appeared as if the fires that burned the buildings to the ground had burned out hours ago. Alan had only ever seen one Testificate village before in his life, but most Testificate villages looked the same. A couple of one or two story buildings made out of wood, a small farm, usually a well in the middle of the village for water, occasionally a smithy, and a library. Unfortunately, as he walked through the gravel roads of the village with Hunter, Alan was unable to tell what this village used to be before it was burned. Several wooden buildings, all burned and collapsing on themselves. No signs of life anywhere.

"This was definitely a griefer attack," Hunter said, sighing. He surveyed the area one more time, making absolutely sure that any sign of danger had left. "Looks like whoever did this is gone now. Stay on your guard, though. There could be mobs lurking around. I don't think we'll be able to find anything useful, but look around and see if we can find salvage anything at least. And check for survivors too."

Alan let out a small sigh of relief at the thought of not having to deal with any griefers. The moon in the sky was bright enough to provide a little bit of light, but not much. Gripping his sword tightly, Alan rounded a corner only to immediately gasp at what he had come face-to-face with.

"What's wrong?" Hunter asked, following close behind him. He looked up and immediately saw for himself.

The Testificates, or what was left of them. Their charred remains sitting neatly in a pile stacked on top of each other as smoke rose off their burned corpses. Suddenly, the smell of burnt flesh hit Alan's nose and he dropped his sword and keeled over to vomit. Hunter couldn't help but stare at the heap of burned bodies in disbelief. There had to at least be a dozen of them in a pile, stacked like butchered animals. Their skin black and cracked like coal as the embers of their bones still smoldered inside of them.

"Dammit..." he whispered quietly to himself after a minute of silence while Alan wiped the remaining spittle from his own mouth. "Dammit," he said, a little louder this time. "Dammit! Dammit, dammit, dammit!" he yelled, this time loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.

"Hunter!" Alan whispered as he placed his finger over his mouth signaling for Hunter to be quiet. Hunter didn't seem to pay him any attention, though.

"What happened to their golem?! Who would do this to the Testificates? Why would anyone do this? Why?! Fuck! Fuck!" Hunter yelled as he paced back and forth in anger, not taking his eyes off of the burnt bodies in front of him.

"Hunter, you need to be quiet!" Alan warned. Hunter jerked his head to look over at him, his eyes burning with anger.

"Or what?!" he demanded. "Or the people who did this will come back?! Well, good! I want them to come back! I want them to come back so I can kill every last one of them!"

Hunter could feel the blood rushing through him and his voice start to strain from the yelling. He was hot with anger, and he felt like he was about to burn up. He stared at Alan for what seemed like an eternity before he realized just how scared Alan looked in that moment. Alan was right, he needed to calm down. Finally, he sighed as he felt the burst of anger breathe out his lungs.

"Shit, Alan, I'm sorry. It's just... I was friends with these guys. I may not have been able to speak their language, but... Dammit. Let's just go," Hunter said, turning around to leave. Alan, happy to finally leave the place, quickly followed after him. As he turned, though, he saw something glowing in the moonlight.

"Wait," Alan asked, grabbing Hunter's arm to stop him.

"What now?" Hunter asked, annoyed. Alan pointed towards the ground, just a few feet from the burned bodies. Curious, but cautious, Hunter walked over to where Alan pointed until he saw it too.

"What is that?" Alan asked as Hunter bent down. "Blood?"

Hunter used his fingers to wipe the stain off of the ground and held it up to his nose to smell. The scent shocked him.

"No. It's ink. Squid ink. Still wet, too..." He stood back up and took a few steps back to get a better view of what they were looking at.

At their feet on the ground in front of them was a large ink drawing of what appeared to be a squid, with his tentacles branching out and curling toward the pile of dead Testificates. The eyes of the squid were large and colored red with blood as it reflected the moonlight, and they looked as if they were staring into Alan's very soul. The body of the squid appeared darker than the night sky, and it didn't look so much like a drawing as it did a creature of hell itself. Underneath the squid were three simple words. Alan and Hunter both looked at each other, concern and fear clear on their face, before they silently turned to leave.

On their way back to Hunter's Watch that night, neither one of them said a word. Alan couldn't even keep up with how many times he looked over his shoulder, always terrified that he'd turn one time to see the torches of a griefer raiding party following them. When Alan and Hunter finally made it back to Hunter's Watch that night, they explained to the others what they had found. Frederick ordered extra guard shifts for the time being, and Zeke happily obliged.

Before Alan went to sleep that night, those words kept echoing in Alan's mind, unable to go away. They kept murmuring in his head like the soft hiss of a fuse about to set off a crate of TNT. Finally, after an hour of tossing and turning, he opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling as he repeated the words aloud to himself in an effort to get it out of his head.

"CONVERT OR DIE."

Next Chapter: A Horse and a Saddle