Chapter 3
Alone
BanjoNote: This chapter, while longer then the past 2 chapters, is still in the shorter side of things. I hope you enjoy it regardless.
The first Arc starts now!
-=Road to Pillage=-
The 14th Update has finally come to be! Our duo, Alex and Gimero, head their way to the Jewel of the Plains, Lafor. It's going to be one Nether of a journey - will our heroes be able to make it?
Probably. But read the next 7 Chapters to find out!
[Gimero]
I looked up at our measly camp - a mere oak plank box with two rooms within it, and a pasture for my llamas. However, the only one to judge it was Alex, so I guess I was safe.
"How in -" She cleared her throat. "How did you put this up so fast?"
"Huh? Oh! um..." I looked around, realizing that I was going to have to train her. I was lucky enough to find a person named Tanner who found and taught me for a bit, but we had to part ways quickly. Now how am I to train Alex.
"Alright... so this world is a bit wonky when it comes to physics." I sighed. "I may ask you to do some crazy stuff, so bear with me. just imagine what it was like for the people who had to discover this."
Wincing mentally, I walked over to a nearby tree and said "Watch me, and try not to freak out."
Alex gave me a confused look, but proceeded to walk forward, crossing her arms. I cracked my bony knuckles (I wasn't the strongest man alive, no where close even.) and proceeded to beat the very bottom of the oak tree.
A few seconds later, the bottom quarter of the tree popped out. I grabbed it and stuffed it into my belt, then turned to Alex. Her arms fell to her waist, blinked once over the stretch of a couple of seconds, then coughed.
"Two questions."
"Only two?" I asked back.
She ignored me. "First: Did you break through a couple of inches of pure bark and wood?"
"...Yes."
"Second: Why is the tree still floating?"
I looked at the tree that was, true to her word, was floating a couple of feet in the air.
"I'll get you that answer when I find it."
Alex nodded, then continued to nod for almost exactly half a minute. "Am I going insane?" She finally asked.
"That's three questions," I noted. "And we'll find that answer, although it's most likely not. Nevertheless, You can get the rest of the tree."
"I- alright." She mentally prepared herself (Or at least I think so) and proceeded to repeat what I had done the the bottom of the tree.
Soon all three logs had floated into her belt. Holding them up, she looked at the box and said "These look different."
"Because you haven't quite changed them into planks. It's hard to explain this, but... imagine that there's a two by two grid in front of you. Then place the logs in there."
Alex, probably learning to go with it, squinted and then placed a single log into what seemed to be open air. Soundlessly, it turned into 4 planks. Looking at them, she shrugged and proclaimed "I think... well, it'll take a long time to get used to this, but I can go with it for now."
I nodded absently, then changed my oaks into planks. "Next is the crafting ta- wait, how did you-"
Alex held up the table in her hand. "I mean, it wasn't that hard to stumble on. I just filled up the grid."
I considered that. "Fair."
[Alex]
The training took the next hour or so, as Gimero told me how to take inventory through my belt, although the health and hunger bar came as a surprise to me, when he smacked me on the head, rattling my vision and making ten hearts appear on the bottom left of my vision, and corn dogs on the bottom right. I gratefully munched on an apple and sat down on the edge of the river we were near.
But a question was at the edge of my mind. "Hey, Gimero, what's a Crafter?"
Gimero swallowed loudly and said "Ah, well, I guess I do owe you that explanation, don't I?"
Sensing discomfort, I replied with "You don't have to answer. I was just... curious."
Gimero laughed weakly. "Typically, when someone says You don't have to answer, that means you kinda do."
"Never thought about it in that way."
"No worries. Hmm, where to start... A Crafter is different then a villager, which is what me and you are. A villager is a simple folk. We do what we have to do to survive - craft, build, mine, et cetera. We can live up to around a thousand years, and we have been around for- huh." Gimero frowned. "I'd say 700 years or so? That was when the first village was established.
"But Crafter's don't age. They are granted powers that no one knows the origin of. The last Crafter, I believe his name was Dinnerbone. He had power over water and all that."
"Huh."
"Yeah, it's confusing. They arrive with an update, which adds new things to the world of MineCraftia. They happen every decade, and this decade's update happened yesterday."
"The 14th update." I interrupted. Gimero frowned and said "How did you know that?"
"How do you know the history of all this?"
"Fair. I do seem to have some sort of innate knowledge, although this isn't unheard of. But you don't seem to know any of this, so how did you know that?"
"I think... maybe you mentioned it over the ride?" I tried to remember when I learned that, but I was pretty sure Gimero didn't tell me that.
"Anyways, back to the subject. Why was I called a Crafted back at the bridge?" I asked. "Did the burst of strength mean anything?"
Gimero shrugged. "Probably not. The 11th Crafter had the ability of effects, and duplicate powers aren't possible. I'd put the strength down to adrenaline or something similar."
He stood up and huddled in his blue overcoat. "By Notch, it's freezing. I'm going to bed. I don't understand how you can live in those clothes."
"What's wrong with my clothes?" I looked down. I was wearing a green tee, with brown jeans and grey army boots. I showed him my gold bracelets in each wrist and asked "You don't like the bling?"
Gimero sighed and muttered "Just don't stay up too long."
"Alright, I'll head in." I stood up and walked into the box, intent on sleeping.
Hooray for peaceful sleeping. I fully expected a full on Lord of the Rings vision with grey, swirling smoke and Nazgul walking towards me with their swords pointed downwards.
Or was it upwards?
The hell even is Lord of the Rings?
Nevertheless, I slept like the dead, which is a good thing, despite the name. Why are all good things named bad?
Maybe it's the morning after.
When I woke up, I looked at Gimero's bed and saw that it was empty, save for his backpack. Shrugging it off as waking up earlier, I stretched after my restful sleep and slung Gimero's pack of ware's on. I walked outside, and an arrow missed me by a centimeter.
Waking up fully, I dived behind a tree a bit dramatically and looked around the side. I nearly fainted there and then.
Sliding behind the tree, I decided that Gimero needed to emphasize on certain topics. Sure, he said that monsters thrive in darkness, but not the undead!
Currently, It was under the shade of a tree, so it wasn't burning, or so Gimero said. I pulled out my fishing rod and whipped the bobber at the skeleton. It hooked onto one of the ribs, and I yanked it backwards.
The skeleton practically fell on it's face - no wait, skull, then promptly burst into flames. After a couple of seconds of struggling, it disappeared, leaving a weird combination of two bones, an arrow, and the bow it was holding. I watched as the loot floated to my belt, but I grabbed the bow off the ground. It was at half durability, but it was the only one I had.
To be honest, I didn't even know bow's would exist.
Realizing that Gimero hadn't interacted with me at all, not even a shriek, I looked the llama's. Simeron spat on the ground, and I nodded in agreement.
"Gimero is either in trouble," I whispered to myself. "Or he's being an idiot. Which is another form of trouble."
I started to the forest, but then I looked back at the llamas. I shrugged, said "They'll be fine.", and continued into the forest.
It wasn't hard to find the tower. I mean, wouldn't that have ruined the point of a tower?
However, my mind went straight to auto-correct mode, and changed the name to Pillager Outpost. I had no idea what was going on with that, but I wasn't complaining.
The Outpost rose way above the treeline, and it was surrounded by some sort of camp - but once agian, my mind auto-corrected it to a Village. It stood in a depression, with hills surrounding it in all directions. Perfect for defense against certain types of attacks, bad for miss ol' Alex.
My inner scholar told me that the Outpost itself had gone through some upgrades, as it was made mostly of stone bricks and some sort of blackish material. At least I believed it was stone bricks. It looked the sane colour as my stack of 30 cobblestone.
What bothered me is the village. It once had to be populated by Villagers, correct? So where were they?
Out of one of the 30 or s houses, a man walked out. His skin was grey, and he wore a trench coat, all dark colours, and black leather boots. The majority of them held crossbows at their side. I shuddered involuntarily, as if a bad feeling was seeping into me.
I saw a little marker above my health bar, although I didn't pay it much attention. My conscience told me that it was called Bad Omen, although I also didn't pay that much attention either.
Because Gimero, alongside 9 other villagers, were standing outside a cave, that was not too far from here.
[Gimero]
"Alright, you filth, listen up." The pillager in front of us growled. "You ten are lucky to be alive. You caught by the eastern outpost, the most merciful of the..." He frowned, then turned to his friend. "How many?"
"Herobrine above, how many times must I tell you? It's eight!"
"Shut up, the two of you." The third and last one growled. He gestured to a table on the right wall of the cave. On it, there was ten iron picks. "You may be alive, but believe me, you'll regret that soon. You're gonna mine, day and night, untill you start puking out iron ingots. We may be the smallest -"
I gave an almost inaudible squeak at that. He turned to me, smiled, and continued. "But we will have gear the others won't. Supply it to us, and maybe we'll guve you a head start into the woods. Maybe."
"You always overdo that part." The first one muttered.
"Shush." the second one muttered.
As I stumbled to the pickaxes, I quietly sobbed. The smallest outpost? Even if there was only 30 houses - which was big enough on it's own - There was at least 70 pillagers here. What in the name of Notch were they planning?
Too scared to think up of an escape plan, I hefted the pickaxe and longed for the time before I was knocked out, dragged into an invaded village, and forced to do slave labour.
Oh, those sweet, wonderful 2 days!
[Alex]
I saw Gimero walk into the cave, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on.
I took off Gimero's backpacks and looked in his wares. A full stack of cobble, 3 stacks of dirt, a set of stone tools, a clock and a compass. Whenever I held the compass up, however, it pointed in thr direction of where I spawned, or so Gimero called it. I didn't like the word spawn, but whatever.
My own inventory was even worse off. A set of wooden tools, a bow, a fishing rod at EXTREMELY low durability, 2 bones, an arrow, 30 cobblestone, and 2 full stacks of dirt.
"It's going to be a pain in the ass to get you out, Gimero," I muttered to myself quietly. "But Goddammit, whoever god is, I'm getting you out of there. Just give me some time to, uh,"
I thought for a second. "Run back to base."
BanjoNote: Didn't expect to keep having setbacks, but at least it got out!
Next Chapter: Jailbreak Part 1! Until then, just keep Banjo-ing!