...
Little Hooves Mean Trouble
...
Lava churned and bubbled as it drifted and swirled idly along the banks of a giant lake. Chunks of fallen netherrack bobbing and sluggishly moving as they were carried by the current of the ever-flowing magma. A large cavern, possibly the largest this little piglin had ever seen, spread out far into the hazy distance. The ashy cloak was thin here, really framing the scene for his explosive imagination.
Overhead on the cliffs of hanging plateaus was red spongy boughs of crimson mushrooms. Their round tops sagging and draping like thick leather hide on the wide pulsing stems. The nylium grass spilled over the netherrack cliffs and climbed down the sides as feathery lichen and moss from the distance. But the forest they recently left did not go further than that as it spread into the wastes.
A large series of tunnels and vast caverns, not as big as this one, of pure netherrack and the occasional fortress where blazes and wither skeletons roamed and patrolled. It was a scary place; the skeletons gave him nightmares.
But in the far distance of this grand lava lake was a grander spectacle. A fortification of netherbricks like he'd never seen before. It looked like a fortress but it was strange. There were no long hallways and thick pillars jutting out of the ground, it was built differently. An enormous wall on this outcropping sitting over the magma, and a series of towers behind it. It was weird. The towers all ended in tall points and there were arches everywhere. Everything seemed delicate and tall, two things that never lasted long in this place.
He simply could not keep his head off its swivel. He wanted to take in every sight this unexplored land offered. His swirly tail wagged and flicked intermittently in wonder. His hooves ached to run off and get a closer look at the landscape features.
The hoglin caravan was slowly passing behind him. His clan, led by a singular brute, was making their way through the rickety terrain. They were one of the few clans that were allowed to settle near such a grand fortress.
This caravan had traveled for many days to this location. A small pocket of their clan set their home within the winding halls of the strange fortress that overlooked the large plains they were to settle on. Supposedly, only the best skilled fighters could live in the gallant halls of the strange fortress. Honor bound to protect and give loyalty to the entity that dwelled deep in the heart of its halls. The little piglin desperately wanted to be there with them.
This young piglin, with barely a pair of tusks, sat at the edge of the ledge. Watching the bank of the lava lap against the gravel beach. He had run up ahead of the long trail of wagons to be one of the first to gaze upon the giant castle on the cliff-side. And it was a sight to behold. The elders spoke of a strong power that resided there, only the best warriors were allowed to wander those halls.
It was strange since this entity was supposedly from another realm.
The young piglin heard of these other places. From foreign traders that walked like him, but yet they had no hooves and the only fur was on the top of their heads. Not to mention they were strange. Not only was their fur on the top of their heads but none of them were the pink that the rest of his piglin family were like. Brown, blond, red, and an entire load of other colors he's never seen before. His elders said they changed their fur colors with special dyes only found there. He wanted to dye his fur cool bright colors.
The strange beings were tolerated in the land as long as they were respectable and kept their distance. Just as they kept the peace with other tribes. He had heard these travelers were not as strong as the piglin warriors of his village, but often had stronger armor and weapons. They could harness magic, the elders swore. Solutions to strengthen them and faster. Though it was said that the harsh climate of his home was not suitable for the foreigners. Which made the entity in the tower that much more of a mystery.
All of that was an afterthought. He was entranced by the giant fortress that sat smack-dab in the center of the cavern.
But this great power, he wanted to see it. Surely it was the same as the others who visited the land. An entity capable of wiping entire armies to the ground, destroying bastions with a single blow, able to sway the minds of non-sentient mobs like the zombified piglins. The elders spoke that this great power looked like the foreigners, humans, he remembered the word now. But the only difference is his eyes, fully white like his and his family. But they glow. Brighter than any glowstone cluster in the land. The thought of seeing this entity had his heart pumping.
But not to be fooled by the great power's hospitality, for it was also a great evil banished to their home to atone for his crimes in the other realms. The same realms that these traders came from. He has slain and bested hundreds of other piglins like himself. Taken down hordes of wither skeletons and ghasts alike. Unfazed by the eternal fires of his cavernous world.
This white-eyed demon wouldn't spare a glance at any creature other than to spite it in a column of blazing fire.
The elders told his litter never to stray near the castle. That very evil was stronger than any of their warriors laid in there. A creature of darkness, an entity that survived the icy embrace of the void; of death. Horan snorted. It was a story to keep him close to home. He wasn't scared, unlike his younger littermates that went squealing to their beds.
The older littermates said that he consumes souls like the soul fires and bathes in the blood of his enemies. That didn't scare him away, no, it only made him want to see this entity more. Imagine it! Such power! If he was that strong he could defeat anything! He could save his clan from hoards of zombified piglins and everyone could live happily and then they wouldn't have to move around so much.
Oh, to be one of the few allowed to wander those grand halls. These corridors are void of holes and polished, slaying foes that dare trespass. To be feared and respected by every mob in the land. Images of his imagination he cooked up. A feast of wonder and excitement in the young piglin's mind.
"Horan, get over here." His caretaker called from the back of the caravan.
An older piglin, white streaks spotted in her graying mane. Her long tusks were decorated with gold rings as the metal adorned her robes. Her old, wrinkled, scarred snout was twitching wearily. The hoglins were huffing as many other piglins in his clan were eagerly awaiting the arrival of their camping grounds.
The young piglin jumped to his hooves and bolted to his caretaker's side.
"We will arrive soon, keep yourself on your best behavior." She said sternly. "Do not wander off."
There was an air of importance she gave off. There must be something grand waiting for them. He'd only been here once before though he didn't remember the trip. He was incredibly young, still having to be walked around in a sling. His hooves were too soft back then for the rough floor of the netherrack. Now they were tough like the warriors in his tribe. And his tusks, he thought, were sharp enough to spar.
Horan held onto the hem of her colorful woven coat. A simple dress with a sleeved cover of colors and threaded tassels. Thin gold threads woven through the fabric in designs of their clan's symbol.
"How long will we be staying?"
"Until our leader decides we must move."
"Why do we always move? It's boring and hard carrying everything everywhere!" The little piglin squealed.
"We migrate because it's too dangerous to stay in one place. I've told you that." His caretaker huffed. They've had this conversation many times before.
Horan kicked at the ground as they walked. "Then why does the entity in the castle get to stay in one place?"
"He doesn't stay there forever, you know. He leaves and migrates to other places like all of us. It is his home bastion, a place where everything is. Like our bastion we visit in the summer."
"Where does he go?"
"I do not know."
"Where do you think he goes?"
His caretaker shook her mane with a snort, "That is up to you to decide. Anyway, we should stop talking about the entity. You know it is bad luck. Now go find the others, Jabbi wants to take a break from leading the cart."
"Okay, H'ama."
His caretaker ruffled the hair on his head before nudging him along.
Horan skipped across the netherrack as he weaved through the clambering of hooves and wheels. Hoglins huffed and puffed as they pulled carts along the unstable earth. Wide, thick leather straps holstered contraptions that settled, creaking, on their hulking shoulders.
Piglins of all shapes and sizes trekking along. Weavers, smiths, hunters, storytellers, herders. They marched along with purpose. Horan's piglin clan was larger than most, a healthy community capable of withstanding their ground and surviving conflict with other bands that roam the red lands.
His parents were warriors, his father a retired brute with his mother a seasoned hunter. Harsh lands claimed both when he was very young and taken in by the clan's caretaker, H'ama. She was an elder skilled in child rearing, teaching valuable skills and watching the youngsters while their parents went off and did their jobs. Jabbi was like him, but her parents fell victim to the zombie plague.
He had a brother he hadn't seen since he was a baby. A skilled warrior like their father, but the entity chose him to live in the giant fortress. Would he be able to see his brother again? He hoped so. H'ama told many stories about his family, his brother was one of the best fighters and on his way to become a brute. If he became a brute, he would teach everyone to be strong so they wouldn't have to move ever!
Horan found Jabbi only a few minutes later. She sat on the hoglin's back as she held the slack reins. A slouched in her back as she blew strands of her mane from her face. Jabbi swung her legs around as she stared boredly ahead. The hoglin huffed and trudged along as the cart filled with supplies clattered along behind. Just like all the others in the clan.
Aching feet and thirsty snouts, anticipating the leading brute's command to halt and set up camp. They were close to the fortress, how much closer did they need to get? Jabbi had to be saddle-sore by now.
Jabbi's ears perked up as Horan arrived. A smile curled on her twitching snout.
"Horan! There you are! Did H'ama tell you to stop running off again?" She snorted.
"No, well yes, but no. She said it's my turn to ride."
"Finally." Jabbi kicked up her hooves and slid off the creature's back. She still held the reins but remained by the hoglin's side leading it. "I think my butt's sore from how bumpy he is."
"Great..."
Jabbi held out the reins as Horan took them. "At least you didn't have to ride him for the last few hours."
"I rode him all yesterday."
"Yeah, whatever. Bye!"
And she took off like a strider in magma. Gone through the crowd, probably to go chat with that one herder's son.
Jabbi was older than him, by a long shot. Nubs for tusks peeked through her lips and wooden beads of accomplishment adorned her dark spiky mane. She neared the age to train for whatever she wanted. She was too feisty to be a bead carver or a weaver but was not a fan of using weapons. Horan on the other hand was very interested in wielding weapons like his older brother.
Horan hoisted himself on the moving hoglin, the thick leather of the saddle creaking with the movement as he settled on the beast's back. His little hooves enjoyed the rest as they bounced with the hoglin's gait.
Past the towering head of the fungus trees was a large plains spotted with clusters of red foliage and blisters of glowing fungal bulbs. Horan buzzed in his seat as he anticipated the move to be over.
More and more foliage passed in his view, opening up the cavern to its splendor. It was grand! Tall cavernous ceiling so high a foggy mist obscured the craggy ceiling from view. Upside-down spires of netherrack hung taunting from the shelves above as clusters of glowstone speckled the cliff-faces. Multiple shelves and ledges encircled the castle as their paths reached into the distance.
To his left sat the castle in the distance as the trail wound around cracking ledges and through safe passages. But in front were small buildings and pink blobs mingling about. A smaller tribe already beat them to the field.
Horan felt the hairs prickling on the back of his neck. H'ama said that all clans must adhere to a strict code in order to remain. It was a time of mingling, feasts, trade, stories, and peace. There were even mock battles and sparring competitions!
There was much more to this gathering, but Horan cared little for what didn't involve him. His responsibilities were to stay out of trouble, but who knew how long that would last?
Considering the proximity of the castle, the trajectory of a young one's mind, and the arrival to the gathering grounds. Not very long. The little piglin sat up in his seat. Pretending he was a scout riding a loyal thumper instead of the slow, dull hoglin. Anything to cater to his excited mind.
The caravan ambled along, weary and exhausted. In just a moment they could set up their tents and structures for a season of great comfort.
The leading brute signaled his lieutenants to scout for a corner to occupy. They were early, the unmoving magma of winter were still forming the cooled magma bridges of its season. The large piglin surveyed the land, it had remained mostly unchanged since their last gathering. A good sign, perhaps.
The two lieutenants sped off on their thumpers. A strange reptilian beast similar to a lava-treading strider but with a pair of powerful back legs, two short arms covered in fin-frills, and a tail of wiry plumes. The saddle made for this creature covered most of its back and a collar that went around its non-existent neck. Its short nobby head was thick with scales to withstand hard impact and to head-butt any incoming ghast charges. A useful mount for trekking through the nether-wastes.
A wave from one lieutenant. They had easy pickings in which to set up their camp.
The brute signaled the rest of the clan and off went the caravan of huffing beasts and weary hooves. Sanctuary lied ahead.
Long lines of caravan carriages rolled along with creaks and rumbles as the netherrack turned worn and flat. The other clans already there had settled in a far corner, quieter than the center where the ruckus would soon erupt.
At a separate corner, the brute got off his thumper and stamped his hoof. Here would be the epicenter of their encampment.
Piglins of all types got to work unloading and settling into the clan's traditional formation. They herded Jabbi and a few others back towards Horan and the cart and heaved their tent off the wagon and dragged it over to the spot the brute instructed them to.
Important structures such as the brute's quarters, medical, quartermaster, and other high-ranking professions were stationed in the exact center around the large bonfire pit. Behind them were the ring of secondary professions and then after that were everything else such as family tents and structures. Away from the large clearing and more towards the surrounded forest were where the herders and hoglin keepers set up the small paddock.
Horan knew to bring their hoglin wagon closer to the center near the edge of the second ring. H'ama's apprentice arrived to help with overseeing it all while carrying a smaller piglet on her back.
Multiple older piglins arrived to assist with the caretaker's tent. The hub of childcare while parents took part in the festival games and competitions. Horan and Jabbi scurried about carrying lighter parts of the tent while the adults heaved and lifted the heavier parts.
The large center post was raised and buried into the netherrack floor with notches carved into the crown of the post. Ropes and thinner rods attached to the central post and created the structure in which the canvas and covers rested upon.
Heaves and hos clambered around the entire campsite. Tents erected all clumped together and encircling a center large bonfire pit. They hung baubles and dangles in the children's tent, incense burners, decorations, lanterns. It all dazzled Horan as he watched the adults hang and mount every piece.
Jabbi elbowed him to get working on the floor. He must do his share of the work.
They spread weathered planks across and over the netherrack. The stem planks were soft and comfortable beneath worn and tired hooves. A large rug was placed near the front as hides, cushions, and furs were unloaded from the cart to be sectioned off for each inhabitant. One for H'ama, one for Jabbi, another for Horan, and a few more for others.
Horan put his hands on his hips as he stared at his bed with pride. He had set up the curtain around the bed all by himself and took every piece from the wagon and into the tent. Much more work than he had done during past migrations. The thin cover was tucked neatly over the mattress with pillows stuffed with hoglin bristles sat plush on the end. He loved his bright blue blanket. It was a light fabric from the overworld called linen, and the bright blue color was a piece of pride to him. More of his pride was in the bright red wooden sword next to his bed, carved by his brother before he left.
"Gwuh!" Horan flopped onto his bedroll panting, his fur slick with sweat.
Moving heavy beams and thick tarps was harder than it looked! The adults made it look so easy to just hoist and move; throwing things over their shoulders, even fellow rambunctious children. His muscles were sore from the effort, but as his elders always told him: that's how he would grow into a big powerful brute.
Within the tent swirled settling dust. Jabbi lounged on her bed on the opposite side of the round tent picking at her hooves, her curtains were pulled closed. Horan flopped onto his back as Jabbi snorted, loudly. Somehow sensing the other's growing restlessness.
"Ugh, this is boring!" Horan exclaimed, rolling onto the ground. "When are we going to have games and stuff?"
Jabbi rolled her eyes. "It was your plan to sit here until H'ama got back. She's looking for Pugs and Orti."
"She's taking forever!"
"It's been five minutes."
"Five minutes too long."
Jabbi snorted out a huff and tuned out Horan's impatient squealing.
Their caretaker needed to collect everyone before they could run off and play; but Horan wanted to keep close to the tent so he could be first in line to explore. Pugs always tried to pick fights and Orti was probably hiding beneath someone's wagon. Hmph. Hope they hadn't wandered too far.
Jabbi, despite her feigned annoyance at his restlessness, was fidgeting just as much. She had been looking forward to meeting with the older apprentices and partaking of the rituals and games this gathering offered like hanging around a fire or getting into trouble.
This festival would be the year she would graduate from a child to an apprentice. Pugs, her brother, would also become an apprentice. Though, he lacked much of the wisdom required for most jobs. Jabbi could say it with her full chest by being the older twin. Someone had to knock that knucklehead down a notch.
Despite his large frame he was easy to tussle with. Short scraggly mane and smooth lips from where his baby tusks had fallen out. His snout was the opposite of his sister, flat and wide, much like his head and shoulder. H'ama said that his enormous nose was perfect for sniffing out mushrooms and tubers in the forests.
Speaking of...
The front tent door rustled as the floor creaked beneath multiple hooves.
"Jabbi? Horan?" H'ama called. "Come out."
Horan peeked his head out of the curtains to see Pugs, the stocky and muscular piglet, with his arms crossed and tail flicking. Orti was cowering into H'ama's dress as he looked around the fairly familiar tent.
"Yes, H'ama?" Jabbi peeled herself away from her bed and approached as Horan did.
"Ah, good, you haven't run off. I am needed elsewhere and have requested H'shon and some of the other apprentices to watch over you four while I am busy. They're by one of the herding tents. Now run along, we have awhile before the festivities begin."
A chorus of 'Okay, H'ama' mumbled across the four children as they scampered to the door.
As the four little ones scrambled over themselves to finally run around, H'ama chuckled to herself and watched as they disappeared amongst the forest of tents, crates, and wagons. Praying to the ancestors that they stay out of too much trouble.
...
Near the small grazing paddock full of unharnessed hoglins were a few teenage apprentices sitting around a small fire. Skewered over the spit were a bunch of plump mushrooms cooking and spitting as they were slowly roasted. Color painted across their dyed fur and they wove sparse beads of accomplishment into their manes. Some had bright tusks and others had small horns peeking out as their adult tusks grew in.
Laughter, snorting, and squeals were a ruckus coming from the group. Nearly every one of them was a head or so above each of the young piglins.
As the four trotted closer, the ruckus quieted down as the teenagers stared at the newcomers.
Horan put a hand on the wooden sword strapped to his hip and puffed out his chest as he approached the older piglins. Jabbi shoved past him already saying her hellos.
H'shon, H'ama's own apprentice, smiled and welcomed the small group into the circle around the fire. Horan didn't know what she did, but she lived in their tent. Something about caring for young piglins and helping with bringing more into the world. He had no clue what that meant.
The others were training under various unique skills. Indicated by the markings and dressings they wore. One was herding hoglins, another was weaving textiles, and one was learning how to speak with his hooves to talk, trade, and negotiate with the strange, furless ones.
"Hey there squealers!" The biggest of the apprentices, Inoni, snickered with a wide tusked smile. The others followed in their hushed laughs. "What brings you here?"
"H'ama said we had to find all of you cause she was busy." Jabbi huffed as sat next to H'shon. Not fond of being grouped with the other younglings. Orti timidly followed her and sat on the other side of H'shon.
"Is that so?" H'shon hummed. "She must be helping with the new piglets."
"Shum's new baby? Why would they need help, don't their parents know how to do all that already?" The largest, Inoni, spoke.
H'shon shrugged. "H'ama told me they're new to being parents so they need the help. I was with them all yesterday watching it while they managed the cart. Barely a month old and that thing can squeal!" She laughed.
"Oh, I remember when my younger brother was born." Another teenager added. "He would cry at everything, even his own feet!"
The conversation droned on as the teenagers debated over how to properly cook mushrooms and daring each other to find a warped bud and eat it. It devolved into a tussle as two of the boys wrestled while Pugs and others cheered them on.
Horan didn't care for this conversation at all. He didn't want to sit around a fire; he wanted to see the rest of the cavern! But H'ama was strict about where they could go, and he was certain H'shon would have similar rules.
But he wasn't a squealing piglet anymore, he was strong enough to wander farther than the furthest tent in their settlement. A small hoglin was simple work for him!
One apprentice noticed his disinterest and called his name. "Horan, you look bored enough for your tusks to fall out."
"Cause I am." He sniffed. "This place is boring!"
"Pah! Boring!? Isn't it your first time here? How do you know it's so boring if you haven't even seen it all?"
He pouted his lip. "I'm not allowed to leave past our farthest tent. H'ama said so."
"Aw, that's no fun!" She snorted with a twinkle in her pale eyes. "This whole cavern is going to be bustling with different clans, surely you can find some way to cause mischief further than our camp?"
Inoni seemed to perk up at the idea. A flash of inspiration across his face.. "Heh, why don't we all check out that big castle? Some of our best warriors live there right now. They chose Kalegbi last season to be there, right? Maybe you can go inside and find him!"
Horan tilted his head and raised an ear to listen better. "My brother?"
"Yeah." Inoni leaned in. His long-ish mane fell over his shoulders as he stifled excited snorts. "He's there to protect the treasures of the great entity that lives there. You know of it, right?"
That had officially piqued Horan's interest, Pugs and Orti as well. H'ama refused to speak freely of the great entity. She said that speaking his name too many times would call him, and his temper was as fickle as their homeland.
"You were too young to see it but Kalegbi had to go through rigorous trials and battles to win the right to live there. He even went head-to-head with the entity to earn his status. Kalegbi told me himself that once he got to the fortress, the entity would train him himself and become a great warrior!."
"Woah." Horan's tail wagged as he gazed, bright eyed, at the other. He had never heard those details of the story before.
Kalegbi, his caretaker before H'ama, never spoke much about his role in the clan, but he was a skilled and powerful warrior. Horan wanted to be just like him. Oh, he could dream about it day and night.
"Yeah! It was so cool watching their blades spark. I'd say he's decent for an outsider."
"So… you've all seen the entity?" Jabbi spoke up, too curious to hide her interest.
"Somewhat." Inoni shrugged. "He fights wearing a dark cape and a golden mask to hide his terrible fleshy form. It's all furless except his mane! Super weird looking."
"How does his armor fit underneath a cloak? Wouldn't it get caught on everything?" Horan scratched his ear in confusion. Trying to paint the picture in his head.
"Doesn't need it." Inoni stood and flexed his muscles with a wiggle of his snout. "Armor is pointless if you never get hit. He fights with nothing but a sparkly sword made of netherite and the clothes on his back."
"Woah." The young piglins all gaped at the thought. Even their strongest fighters wore full coverage armor.
"He sounds awesome!" Horan squealed.
"Hmph." The bookkeeper's apprentice snorted. Furling the scroll they had been reading until now. "Do not fill their heads with such rubble! An outsider that has outlived our clan by centuries. That entity, in our history, is called a fallen god for a reason. Other clans call him an anomaly. He has wiped entire bastions off the face of the nether on a whim. Single-handedly! He is not one to be worshiped. He is one to be feared and respected; and we disrespect him with this conversation."
"Mhm, nerd." H'shon giggled. "Stop being so serious. They're only curious."
The historian sulked with his arms crossed. "I'm just saying, if they want to go to the castle it would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see a living god up close and personal. Hey, maybe if you see Kalegbi he could introduce you to the entity if he's at the fortress. Heh, the entity might even be nice and show you how strong he is! To be fair, the scrolls say he's very vain and enjoys showing off."
"Will we get to see him?" Pugs asked. The sarcastic tone completely went over the young ones' heads. Taking everything at face value.
"Most definitely." The historian grinned, watching his peers bite back snickers of amusement in the background. "Maybe H'ama will let you four see the mock battles and duels between the entity and our strongest warriors."
"Oohhhh!" Pugs and Horan awed in tandem. Jabbi raised a skeptical brow.
"Tell you what." He waved his scroll in front of his face like a fan. "Maybe if you three go to the castle, you can prove just how strong you all are and then they'll have to let you participate instead of napping all day at home with all the piglets."
"But… the fortress is forbidden to go near. It's too dangerous." Pugs' ears drooped.
"And that would be well beyond the tent line." Jabbi added, placing her hooves on her hips. But then she smirked, realizing her opportunity to fit in with the older apprentices. "Of course you always listen to what H'ama tells you. Too young to make your own decisions."
Inoni crossed his arms and laughed, "Yeah, you're obviously not strong enough to prove yourself. Sorry, squealers."
Pugs shot up from his seat. "I am strong! I'll show you!"
He locked eyes with Inoni, ears swiveled back and his nose wrinkled up pulling his lips in a snarl where he bore his little nubs for tusks.
Horan leapt from his seat and grabbed Pug's arm. Sharing the sentiment. His nose wiggled in determination. "Let's go! I want to see the fortress!"
Orti looked at the other teenagers before chasing after the two.
"So when are we going to chase after them?" Jabbi asked the others whose focus had returned to the mushrooms. She figured this was some sort of harmless prank.
"We're not." Inoni shrugged. Popping one cap into his mouth and then smacking his lips as the cap was still steaming.
"What!?" Jabbi whipped her head around at the apprentices. "Are you crazy, you're really going to let them wander into the fortress? That place is beyond forbidden!"
Inoni scoffed, "Duh! Don't worry so much. You are far too serious. They'll barely make it one step on the bridge before running back squealing with their tails between their legs. It'll be hilarious! Liven up this festival a bit. Think about the rumors: A group of piglets attempted to sneak into the fortress."
The historian piped in. "Or they'll be scruffed and dragged back by a guard when they're caught sneaking away. I bet they don't even make it past the tent line."
The group laughed as Jabbi's face scrunched.
"This isn't funny anymore!" She squirmed in her seat, the younger ones long disappeared into the chaos of camp. "You have to stop them!"
"I'm a little busy here, squirt." The largest said, leaning back and crossing his hooves in relaxation. "If you're going to be lame, buzz off and find another drift to bother."
H'shon shared Jabbi's wrinkled nose and snuffed loudly. "All of you are being cruel. If they get caught, it's on our heads if they're hurt. My head!" She gestured to herself.
The largest rolled his eyes, unfazed "If you're so concerned, go after them. That is your job, isn't it?"
"Shroom-brain." She huffed, craning her neck to see where the boys could have gone. "Jabbi, make sure they don't stumble off a cliff or something. I need to stay here in case H'ama needs me."
Jabbi wiggled her snout. Glaring down the group of teenagers, whom she had lost her admiration for. "Okay, I'll be back soon."
"Thank you."
"Tell the entity I said hi!" Inoni called after her as she rushed through the camp to save her friends.
The apprentices let out a roar of laughter. Grunting and snorting and throwing back their manes. All except H'shon, whose eyes narrowed in sparking anger. Slyly, she kicked over the cooking mushrooms onto the ground. She smiled, satisfied, as her fellow apprentices scrambled in a tizzy to pick up their lunch.
...
Around Horan was a hive of activity. Adults of all different statuses and trades walked and mingled as they continued setting up the last remnants of camp. Structures of dazzling patterns and weaves to his little mind. Hoglin hauling wagons snuffed and growled as they passed.
Beneath his feet was the carpet of mossy red. Most of the plains they settled on was of the forest floor with a sparse spread of mushroom canopies.
Crates, supplies, and clutter stacked upon each other were everywhere as the clan settled for the season. Perfect nooks to hide away from the patrolling guards.
Horan ducked behind some crates while a guard passed. He signaled the other three to follow him as he hopped from hiding place to hiding place. Tents and structures blocked most of the horizon, keeping the clan in a tight-knit formation. But above everything, on the cliff that towered over this plains, the fortress overlooked all.
His heart pounded as he stared at the massive fortress. A terrible, mystical, awe-inspiring fortress. Full of the strongest piglins, monsters, creatures, and… most importantly… the entity.
The three made it to the outskirts of the camp before Orti pulled on Horan's trousers.
Orti looked up at him with big, blank eyes. "Are... are you sure we'll be okay?"
Horan nodded his head with confidence, "Yes. We're just going to go in, and then come out. Don't be a wuss."
"I'm not a wuss!" Orti squeaked.
"Then come on!"
Another glance at any patrol that would come by, but none were around. All that was left was the largest expanse of flat land Horan had ever seen. The pinnacle of it all was the entrance of the bridge up to the fortress.
"Go!" He squealed.
All three took off across the enormous expanse. Few fungus trees were rooted in this place. Other clans had arrived and settled on the edges, none near the fortress. Roaming hoglins paid them no mind as they darted across laughing and squealing with delight.
It was much longer than they thought, the walk to the fortress that is. By the time they made it to the first rampart of the bridge, their clan's camp was a small glob of colors in the far distance. Surely they wouldn't be missed just for a little bit.
The three small piglins, led by Horan, marched up to the bridge that led to the entrance of the strange fortress. From the stories he's heard, it had to be styled after a fortified castle in the overworld. And it was even more massive up close!
The young piglins looked for sentries before stepping foot on the netherbrick. It was strange. The brick was cooler than the netherrack it sprouted from. It felt strange and smooth under their hooves, like a good weird. They slowly shuffled forward, their hooves clacking on the brick. The younger ones giggled at the sound. It was a pleasant one compared to the strange gravelly squelch of netherrack. Horan was just able to peer over the railing of the bridge to observe the churning lava moat below. His tail wiggled in excitement. This entire fortress seemed to exude power.
Ahead, a large sturdy door sat, covered in brackets, rivets, and long pieces of metal clenching it together. Formidable. Gold adorned the rivets over the dark metal brackets. It was taller than a ghast and looked stupid heavy.
"Wow, that door is huge! Do you think we can open it?" Pugs said.
Orti shrugged. "Probably. I mean, it can't be that heavy right? This has to be how everyone gets in."
"Dunno..." Pugs nervously glanced over at Horan. "You sure the entity is even in there? Who knows, he might have migrated for the season."
Horan pouted. "H'ama and the other apprentices said he was going to be here for the festival, remember? He needs to personally select which warriors are going to live here. Oh! Do you think we might talk him into letting us try out for a role? I bet our old clan mates will vouch for us."
"You mean Kalegbi?" Orti asked as he tilted his head, an ear flopping with the motion. "Like Jio, Nissiani, Gin-"
"Yeah probably. If we aren't shot on sight that is." Pugs shuddered.
"Shot on sight?!" Orti squealed, again.
"Shush!" Horan rolled his eyes. "They won't hurt us, if anything they'd catch us and take us back."
Pugs crossed his arms. "Maybe they'll show us the fortress if we ask nicely."
"Nah, you know how brutes are, they'll most definitely take us back." Horan snorted, stepping up to the door, eyeing it closely. "But not if they don't find us. Come on, we need to be quick."
Horan placed a hand on the netherbrick door, the thick claws on the tips of his finger's clacking against the surface. He leaned in with all his weight, his hooves sliding against the smooth bricks. It wouldn't budge. He huffed as he stepped away, hands on his hips as his pale eyes glared at the looming door.
He was about to lean in again, but just then, a loud, commanding voice echoed behind them.
"How in the nether were you three planning on surviving in the castle if you aren't even big enough to open the door!"
A sharp shrill squeak came from each of the boys as they jumped. Panicked snorts filled the air as they shuffled to face the danger, hooves slipping on the unfamiliar floor.
"Calm down!" Jabbi barked. "It's just me."
"Jabbi?" Pugs cocked his head. "What are you doing here? Thought you were 'too cool' to hang out with us. Did the apprentices kick you out or something?"
The other two giggles as Jabbi rolled her eyes, flicking her mane from her snout. "Someone needs to be responsible for you three."
Pugs put his hands on his hips, "Aw look at you with your big pig pants! H'ama tell you that?"
"Shut up, doofus! I'm here to make sure whatever is in there doesn't come out and kill us! You know why we're not allowed to go near this place. There's skeletons and zombies that'll chase and eat us!"
Horan patted the wooden blade on his belt. "And? I have a sword. I can handle any mob that crosses our path."
Jabbi didn't look convinced. So Horan clenched his tiny hooves together in a plea.
"Can we please just look inside? Just for a second? We already made it this far! Don't pretend you're not curious."
Jabbi crossed her arms with a stamp of her hoof. "I don't want to get a lecture from H'ama."
"Hmph. Now who's doing everything H'ama tells them." Horan snorted with a smirk, using her own words against her.
Jabbi scrunched her snout as she looked to her brother Pugs. Sighing as she caved to the other's wishes. "... Maybe it's a pull not push."
Grasping the tall handle, Pugs tried to pull. But still no luck.
"It's too heavy!" He panted.
"Or you're weak." Jabbi shoved his shoulder with a grin, earning a glare in return.
Horan's head swiveled around, the bridge didn't lead anywhere else and the windows were too high. This was seemingly their only way in. "What if we all pushed?"
"That could work-"
A loud bellyful laugh tore through the air behind them. This time, not the sound of one of their friends. Chains and clinking metal with the clacking of hooves followed.
Orti's ears perked up. "Someone's coming, everyone hide!"
Eyes scanned the entrance, only finding shattered columns and overgrown pots of red tendril foliage. The four dove behind one of the pillars amassed in fungus moss and hushed their panicked snorts as the sound of marching hooves approached.
From the bridge marched multiple large piglins. Brawny and tough with their manes speckled in gold and renown. Hides of slain beasts with gallant armor decorated their bodies as the forms got closer. Jabbi peered from over the mushroom hedge she hid behind and her tail flicked.
Chatting and laughing among the other brawny piglins was their clan's leading brute. An older piglin with gray streaks in his hair. The other piglins had gleaming gold weapons across their backs, shimmering in a strange bluish color that turned... purple? Like constantly waving oil.
The piglets watched in awe as one of them easily pried the door open, leaving it ajar as the brutes' honking banter echoed further into the fortress. The door, to the piglets' delight, did not shut.
"That's it. Party's over, we're going home." Jabbi slipped from behind the pillar and faced the other cowering three.
Horan whined. "Oh, come on Jabbi! We're so close!"
"That was our brute with a bunch of other brutes, do you understand how much trouble we're in if we're caught?"
"And what if we're not caught?" Horan argued. "Come on! One itty-bitty look and we'll go straight back to camp."
"Arg, fine, one look and we're done."
The three boys looked amongst each other while their grins grew.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Quiet trills of laughter giggled between their tusks as they scurried for the ajar gate. Dashing and squeezing through the crack into the foyer of the fortress.
The sound beneath their hooves was like crystal as the brick became smoother, shinier. Horan's words were caught in his throat as he craned his head up to the most glorious view he'd ever seen.
The hall before them was unlike anything any of them had ever seen. Large vaulted ceilings with intricate designs of gold filigree painted across the brick walls and complicated ceiling. The ceiling was more like a single tall and round triangle with a point at the top and every so often there was a break in the walls where pillars protruded holding up the pointed arches with intricate carvings and designs. Sprawled out like a long rolling tongue was this soft fabric none of them had ever encountered. It was red like blood and super soft and silky beneath their hooves. Corridors shot off in every direction, promising further mysterious sights as a red, rolling mist obscured their total view.
"Woah..." Jabbi trotted a ways forward, spinning around in awe as she trained her eyes up on the golden arched ceiling. "If this is just the entrance, I wonder what the rest looks like."
"It has to be so much bigger. Like, what of the throne? Some of H'shon's friends say that it's covered in lava and netherite." Horan said.
"Netherite?!" Pugs whipped his head around, bewildered. "Woah, he must be like, super rich."
"And dangerously powerful." Jabbi added. "Are you sure the entity is even here?"
Horan stared further down the hall with a huff. "He has to be, why else would our leader be here? Those other guys had to be brutes too. Did you see the size of that ax?"
"It was so big! I can't wait till I get to use one like that." Pugs exclaimed.
Horan took point as he cautiously stepped further down the hall. Each huff, clack, and sound echoed seemingly forever down the massive hall. Strange fixtures like large fractal crystals put into a uniform shape hung above. Pieces of glowstone sat affixed within the strange crystalline chamber. These unknown sources of light were hung in equal sections down the infinite hall.
Beyond each pillar attached to the wall of the arched ceiling were doors and halls spreading out like fingers of a maze. Empty and crawling to the distance as Horan peered down each one. He skipped forwards to peer down another row but... one of them seemed to lead to something. Darkness, a figure looming in the very distance. It's body melted into the background. Horan felt a shiver down his spine, excitement? Wariness? Almost as if-
"CRASH!"
"SQUEAH!"
Horan's heart leapt through his throat as he spun around, hand quickly clasped around his wooden sword.
Three of the four heads flicked amongst each other before landing on the largest of the group, Pugs, with his ears pinned back and a sheepish hunch in his back. He turned around holding a large golden tipped spear, clearly ripped off the wall as its supports now lay scattered on the floor.
"Uh... heh, I thought it was secure..."
"Idiot." Jabbi spoke.
Small giggles floated around them as Pugs tried swinging around the weapon that was near double his size. Horan had to admit, Pugs looked natural as he swung around and thrusted the enormous weapon around. The end knob of the spear dragged behind as the tip swerved and soared around as Pugs stepped.
Horan took the wooden sword from his belt and pointed it at Pugs' spear. He batted away the golden tip and dodged every swipe of the pole. He had completely forgotten about the strange figure in the distance as he ran circles around Pugs.
Every time Horan tried to get close, Pugs would jab and drive him away. A tap here, a push there, but the weight of the weapon had its wear on the little piglin's arms.
Jabbi watched, waiting for one of them to stumble and call it a day. Orti stood close to her, shuffling on his feet. Both excited by the spar and nervous about their surroundings.
From beyond their view, a shambling form wandered from one hall. Its floppy ears trained to the source of the ruckus. Creaking bones and heaving gasps of air as its overgrown hooves dragged against the polish bricks. A golden sword permanently attached to its hoofed hand by rotting veins and green bulbous growths across its body like veiny vines.
The peachy fur drained of vitality and stained a vile green and fuzzy patches of mold and bacteria. Rot of exposed guts and dried bone swayed with every limp. Miasma followed the creature in a pungent aura.
Its sunken eyes, darkened blind, raising its nose and sniffing, the only sense left intact after unknown eras of decay and the disease rewiring and assuming control of the husk. Sinewy muscles pulled taught at its fleshy pus-filled ears as memory pulled its muscles to face towards the fresh meat.
Jabbi and Orti stood a ways away, closer in the door's direction. Their brief bout of chaos had slowly dragged the group far down the corridor.
The rot filled her nose first. A tune sung of a sour memory. It was the most revolting scent she had ever encountered. The younger two were too childish to know the scent of death though Jabbi questioned if Pugs even remembered too. She swiveled her head but found no source, yet its presence was glaringly clear.
"Guys..." She swallowed thickly.
The other two ignored her in favor of dropping their weapons and tussling arm-in-arm. Orti egged them on with his squeals and yelps. Jabbi tepidly stepped closer to the boys as unfamiliar grunts echoed from behind them, faint beneath the clambering of the boy's tussle.
"Guys!" She whipped around with a shout.
"Whaaaa..." Pugs rolled his pale eyes as he turned to face Jabbi.
Saccharine miasmas drifted past their noses as the chatter and clattering of their scuffle silenced. Jabbi turned around in a full circle, sniffing the air before setting her eyes on the direction they had come from.
"Eewww, what's that smell?" Orti's snout wrinkled so much he bared his teeth at the stench. "It smells worse than hoglin poop!"
"Jabbi..." Horan plucked his sword from the ground and straightened his back. "Are you okay?"
She hadn't even opened her mouth when the fiend appeared from a corridor they had passed. It's shambling legs quivering with every lumbering step. The golden sword permanently attached to its hand swayed with each heaving breath. Hollow eyes pointed straight at the four little piglets.
Pugs grabbed Orti's hand. "Run!"
The zombified piglin roared a frayed calloused grunt from its throat.
Horrified screams rubbed their throats raw as they scrambled away from the grunting creature. Hooves slipping on the unfamiliar terrain. In the fright, they had completely turned themselves around. Little minds lost as they were hunted like wild hoglins. They were doomed.
"This way!" Jabbi's voice carried over and the group followed her lead as she pointed to a random hallway.
All four scampered down the hall only to come to a screeching halt as they were greeted by more zombified piglins mingling at the very end of the hall they had entered. The one pursuing them shambled ever so closer. The stench of death filled the air and clogged their senses.
Heart puttering, lungs choking, muscles aching with adrenaline, pick a direction and lose them. Flee as fast as you can. Get away no matter what. That's what Horan's body told him.
"R-run!" He screeched.
And they all bolted in terror.
He saw another arch and dashed through, running and running for dear life. Praying that the monsters didn't follow them. Unable to process what he would even do if they caught him. Nearly sobbing at the fear of it all.
Horan couldn't tell how long he was running. He did not know where he was. He tried to turn his head, expecting rotten maws to envelop him any second now. But the action nearly tripped him and he squealed, closing his eyes and running in a blind panic down the hallway which seemed to go on into infinity. His panicked pants and the stumbling of his tiny feet on the ever changing terrain were the only things echoing across the netherrack walls.
It took him a while to slow down and realize that he could no longer hear anyone, or anything, else. His run turned into a skipping jog as he focused on listening.
He couldn't hear the wheezing and squeals from the other three anymore. And surely Jabbi would have yelled at him to continue on.
Coming to a near halt as he turned himself around, body screaming against the action as he was making himself vulnerable, he was met with the sight of an empty hallway. He had outrun the zombies. But… where were his friends!?
Did they not follow him? Was there another hallway that he didn't see? Oh, no... were... were they... No. They're better than that and zombies are slow. If Horan could outrun them, surely the others could too. They're fine, they're always fine.
But...
Where... was he?
He came to a dead stop. Nervously wringing his hooves around the hilt of his only weapon. Which felt like nothing more than a toy to him now. But it was all he had.
"Jabbi?" His voice quivered as hiccups latched to the lump in his throat. "Pugs? Orti!?"
The echo of his own voice responded in the deafening silence. He was alone.
He whirled around and pointed the tip of his wooden sword behind him at the sound of a loud wail... A large white blob drifted past one window before floating off into the distant sea of magma. He didn't like it.
A whimper slipped through as he held his sword close to himself. He strained his ears up to listen to anything but his pounding heart.
"I-I'm a brave pig." He encouraged himself. "I am brave. I can do this."
Taking a moment to breathe, he looked around the place he was in. Slowly walking again to find any assemblage of a landmark. Something he could use to leave and get help.
His legs lead him to a dead end with a room at the end. Peering in, it seemed to be a small place to relax. Strange chairs covered in fabric were placed together and more of that soft carpet sat across the brick floor. On the walls were books. Not scrolls but bound books of paper. There weren't a lot, but they were there.
It looked like a place to lounge and get comfy. He would have loved to have sat and lounged if he wasn't so utterly lost.
Horan stepped out of the strange room and looked down the hallway that led him here. He was at a dead end but there was a door that he had passed. He couldn't just sit here and wait to be gobbled up. Somewhere had to take him to a place that he could recognize.
Nothing was different in the hallway that led him here. All the hallways he had run through looked exactly the same. Smooth large bricks made up the walls with a darker smaller set of bricks set as a paneling on the lower part of the wall. The same arches every so often, though smaller than the one great corridor at the entrance. Windows were sparse, and a layer of bars protected the glass.
The further he walked, the more his ears slunk back against his head. Snout quivering as hopelessness and despair settled in.
Why did he do this? Why did he listen to the older piglins? All he wanted was to see his brother and find the entity. The fortress was so big he was going to be lost for days. He doubted he would ever find the brutes living in the fortress, anyway.
Another hiccup wracked his chest as he trotted further down the hallway, locked doors or useless rooms at every turn. Alone! Completely alone! Lost forever in this terrible fortress.
Right before another sob could slip out, he heard it. Footsteps. Reverberating from somewhere near in this massive fortress. He was close enough to hear it and no stench of rot followed. It had to be other piglins then! They would help him get back home. Back to H'ama and his friends.
He rushed ahead, turning the corner as saw figures in the misty distance also turning a different corner. Large swords that only brutes could wield dragging behind them. Life! Piglins! Rescue! He could almost yell in relief. He trotted further with a grin and tears clouding his pale eyes.
The hallway got larger, another main corridor. Similar large quartz things of light hung from the ceiling as he saw the figures further ahead. Walking to nowhere it seemed. Most likely on patrol.
Horan scooted along, following the footsteps he heard. The other piglins, they were near! They could tell him where to find his brother and then he can go home away from this scary place.
'Creeaaaak... Krkrrrkrr...Hssss...'
Rattling . Piglins don't rattle. Unless they were holding a bunch of weapons and armor. A bunch of crossbows can rattle together on the bumpy road, but these didn't sound like wood bumping together.
His pace slowed as he got closer. It felt wrong. Like the air was sick and thick as he inhaled through his nose. Maybe he just needed to get their attention and they could take him away from this terrible place. Horan sucked in a large breath and yelled.
"Hey!"
But those weren't piglins. They never were piglins.
As his voice traveled down the corridor. The figures turned around. Whatever tattered cloth draped around their shoulders had obscured their true forms.
A group of tall fiends stood idly by with stone swords dragging at their heels. Withered rot sucked all meat from their bones leaving dusty charred residue in its wake. Hollow eyes and chattering joints.
He couldn't move nor twitch. Every muscle in his body froze like a statue. Little heart beating out of his chest, it roared in his ears. Horan had seen skeletons before. But these were so wildly different in every way. He took a step back, and another. Each click of his hooves against the smooth netherbrick echoed loudly in his ears.
One of the withered skeletons turned its head. Tilting on its limp hinge of a neck. Its bones creaked, complained, and grated as it moved its rotted body to face the trembling little piglin.
"SQUEEE!"
He couldn't hold it in. A shrill cry tore from his throat as he kicked his little legs into gear. Innate, visceral fear. A feeling in his gut he's never felt before. He just knew this was wrong. Every tingling hair across his body warned danger over and over. He didn't understand, he couldn't understand. The wooden sword in his grip was slipping as he ran. Not even the zombie had scared him this bad.
"H'AMA! KALEGBI! H'SHON! ANYONE?!"
He wanted H'ama. He wanted to be back in his tent. The only thing left on his mind was running into H'ama's arms and crying his eyes out.
"HELP!" He shrieked.
Away. Away from those freaky skeletons.
Sobbed wracked through his body as he ran, clutching his sword tight in his hand. He was going to die!? This is what he deserved for disobeying H'ama. He should have listened, the elders always know better. Why didn't he listen?! Perhaps he would be doomed to wander these hallways forever as a zombie. Cursed with the very thing he wanted before he stepped foot in the palace.
The entire fortress was a maze. No matter which way he turned it was the same senseless pattern across the floors and walls. Red mist rolled from every alcove and arch he passed. Figures and eyes blinked at every turn. The rattling, the horrible, terrible rattling.
A door, a very large and ornate door. Gold trimmed covered the dark wooden facade. It had to be his way out! It was large enough to be a gate; it had to be!
Horan pushed his little legs as fast as they could go, thumping against the door as he gripped the handle and pulled. His hooves slipped and grated against the floor as he yanked against the door in vain.
He looked over his shoulder to see the troupe of skeletons sauntering closer at the easy kill. Crumbling stone stones raised high in their grasps.
Another wail erupted from his throat as he banged on the door.
"A-ANYONE? PLEA-HE-HEEEESSEEEE!"
He couldn't run back then, he was trapped, cornered, doomed!
He took his wooden sword and raised it against the withered laced filth of the skeletons. His eyes were bleary and blubbering as he faced his end.
"I want H'amaaaaa..." He sobbed.
Closer and closer. Fate drew near. Horan's back was pressed against the door, the golden filigree pressed into his back. Every bit of fur on his hackles raised as he snorted and snuffed between his blubbering hiccups and whimpers.
The skeletons drew nearer. Opening what was left of their jaws in haunting huffs of air. This was it. This was his end.
Something unfamiliar welled up inside his chest. A sort of rebellious feeling he had never encountered before. Despite the quivering of his lips, his snout curled and his teeth bared. He shakily raised his wooden sword. Taking one crazy step forward away from the door. And another. Breathing heavily. Eyebrows furrowed. Small tusks thrust forward.
He was a brave piglin.
"WAAAAAAAAAH!" He roared, trying to imitate the battle cry of the brutes in his village. Though it came out a lot squeakier than intended, he pushed on. Raising his sword in challenge. Prepared to battle to the death.
The closest skeleton rattled and shook as it raised its cursed blade in retaliation.
"Shhhrrr- CRACK!"
The pounding in his ears slowed as he stopped and stared, doe-eyed, at the crumbling skull of the wither skeleton in front of him. A thin arrow sliding through smoothly. Its feathered tail flicked as withered chunks followed through its inertia.
The arrow embedded itself far into the ground, pieces of shattered skull surrounded the projectile as the wither skeleton turned to face the source behind him. A raspy roar of its rickety joints hissed and heaved as it opened its maw towards the attacker.
Long legs stepped around him. So quickly that Horan barely had any time to register that it wasn't hooved feet. They had come from behind. Through the door right as Horan had charged. The wielder of the weapon.
"Hraah!" A voice, it was unlike any piglin he's ever heard.
It raised its stone weapon before a shining blade flashed through the air and cleaved through the infernal monster in a single strike. The single slash crumbled the bone as if it were paper.
The creature fell at Horan's feet, clattering into a heap of black sandy remnants of diseased bones.
Frozen, Horan watched in horror as the hollow eyes of the creature melted away and dissolved to that gravelly sand before a mist overtook and disintegrated the undead's corpse once and for all. Hyperventilating, Horan could only watch as his legs turned to jelly.
The cyan blade hacked and slashed as the troupe of skeletons raised arms, rushing the stranger. The stranger kicked up right on the sternum before whipping around and lobbing a skull from the creature's neck.
One-by-one each fiend had fallen to the stranger's blade. Heaps of dissolving bones turning to ash littered the ground as the stranger observed his masterful work.
Horan cowered as the stranger's head turned to face him. This hero, his savior, wasn't a piglin. It was a creature he had never seen before. The stranger lifted the golden helmet from their head and gazed down at the little piglin with his teeth bared.
Tears remained on the verge of spilling as the stranger approached and squatted down to be eye-level with Horan.
This creature was fur-less as its bare skin shone dark. But the patch of curly fur at the top of their head was a darker shade of brown and the weird two lines of dark fur on their forehead that moved with their eyes. Their eyes... they were colored! Not the pale milky white he always knew, and there were black dots in the center of the purple eyes! They had no snout, their face was pressed flat, and the snout was this strange bulb of a nose sticking out over their tuskless mouth. And the ears were oval and rigid!
The stranger held out its hand, also fur-less except for the thin fur covering its arms. Everything was bald and meaty and no hooves at the tips of their fingers. It looked so... alien.
Though lacking any sort of hair braids or beads to signify their rank, the stranger wore magnificent golden armor with delicate filigree and shimmer with enchantments. Something he hasn't even seen his brute wear.
Then the stranger spoke. It was so fluid, like every syllable blurred together with a strange popping of their lips. Nearly every sound was from the strange way its lips moved with such range.
The eyes of the stranger furrowed when they stopped baring their teeth and a smile pulled at the corners of the stranger's lips. Were the bare teeth a smile? How strange.
He couldn't even begin to try to understand what the stranger was saying before he was picked up and tucked against the stranger's chest. For a split second, a squeal began forming in the back of his throat, fear that he was about to be gobbled up. But a gentle armored hand on his back told him he was safe. This creature was rescuing him. He knew for certain.
Finally, the nightmare was over.
Looking up at the stranger's face, they looked down with twinkling purple eyes, baring their teeth again and softly speaking in gibberish. No angry scolding or unhappy snorts. Only... kindness...
Horan hid his face into the stranger's chest as they walked through the terrible fortress. He couldn't imagine how long it was until he realized he was somewhere familiar. So many twists and turns and hallways and rooms before finally returning to the main chamber where the zombie was.
And there they were! Piglins! Other piglins just like him at the very end of the halls, mingling among the rolling red mist of the fortress. Powerful warriors with large golden weapons on their backs as they chatted amongst themselves. Horan was too overwhelmed to discern what they were saying.
The stranger continued looking towards the massive door and when they approached, opened it with incredible ease.
Relief welled up inside as H'ama was standing right on the other side talking with one of their brute's deputies. His three friends stood anxiously beside them. Alive and unharmed, from the looks of it. Jabbi and Pugs were comforting Orti who was sobbing into his hooves. All three were clearly shaken. H'ama's frantic gestures grew as she talked with the deputy, only to turn and squeal with delight as the deputy nodded their head in his direction.
Horan wriggled and squirmed as he honked and whined. The stranger set him down carefully and he took off like a flying arrow.
Cries and sobs wracked through him as he rushed into H'ama's arms. H'ama scooped up the whimpering little piglet and rocked him in her arms. Snorts and hums of comfort caressed his ears as he buried his face into her robe.
"My dear, are you hurt?" H'ama's voice wavered as she sighed in relief.
Horan turned his head to look around now that they were outside. The stranger was gesturing with the deputy, raising his hands to his face and moving them around. The deputy followed with the same hand pattern of gesturing. Neither were making sounds, were they talking?
"No... I'm... I'm okay."
H'ama sighed. "Reckless child, what was going on in your head? Did I not tell you it was dangerous? The beasts that live in this place can hurt you greatly. You are lucky they found you."
"I w-wanted to be brave." Horan pouted. "And strong like Kalegbi."
H'ama didn't respond as she watched the stranger and the deputy part ways. The stranger approached cautiously with their weird toothy smile. The stranger nodded towards H'ama before reaching out and ruffling Horan's scraggly mane.
Then he turned and walked down the bridge towards the expanse where more clans had arrived. The glittering blue weapon swinging on his hip.
"Is that… the entity?" Horan wiggled in her arms.
"No. That, my dear, is a human, from another dimension." H'ama nuzzled the small piglin. "But it must be a brave warrior to travel through that fortress."
"Does th-that mean I am b-brave too?"
H'ama laughed. "No, it means you are very naughty!"
Horan sniffed. "I just w-wanted to go inside th-the c-castle like Kalegbi!"
"I know, little piglet, you will one day. But only if you promise to listen to your elders."
The little one gazed into the distance where the stranger, the human, had wandered and disappeared. Realizing just how little he knew about the world around him. How much he still had to learn.
"I promise, H'ama."
...