AN: I have a poll on my profile concerning the usage of a Minecraft Mod in my story. It's purely to add a new level of combat and diversity. Please offer your opinion as a vote.
The answer to last week's puzzle: A stamp! It can travel the world, but stay at the corner of an envelope.
Congrats to AwakenedKarbon for being the first to guess it correctly. Enjoy your cookie and your acknowledgement.
(::)
Puzzle: What has no beginning, middle, or end?
Disclaimer: I don't own Minecraft. If I did, there would be Potions of Inebriation.
Beta: TheWritingReader
Chapter 20
Ringwood
[Cobb]
As I walked down the cracked street, I noticed several defaced signs pointing towards the center of the Kingdom. From what I could tell, the center of the Kingdom appeared to be a large ornate fortress stationed atop a towering plateau.
That's where I'm meeting Floyd in three days. Looks pretty fancy. Hope they let me in.
As I thought about Floyd, an idea hit me.
Without Floyd, would I have just become a wanderer with no goal in life?
It had been my experience with the blue-nette that convinced me to get stronger and prove that numbers are trivial in determining worth. Without that first meeting, would I have just meandered aimlessly without purpose? Would I still be running from Mobs while figuring out how to craft items?
Admittedly, the idea of forming a team with other Crafters was comforting in that it would mean I wouldn't be forced to figure things out on my own. I would be able to learn from others and become better. And…maybe I'd enjoy making friends.
But then there was the Endward Cult.
Sure, taking them down was for the good of Crafters everywhere and helping Floyd avenge his friend was…ambiguously moral. But it seemed like an enormous waste of time to go looking for an entire cult.
If fighting two cultists was a challenge, then fighting off God knows how many more would be impossible. Especially, given the lack of combat training.
Then again, who am I to argue with what Floyd wants to do when I don't even know what I want to do.
My hallucination induced organs said that I'd need to better understand myself to get rid of their voices. But I didn't really know myself at all.
Frankly, I knew my organs' personalities better.
Brain is sarcastic and indifferent, but in a practical sense. Without him, I wouldn't be able to make rational choices.
Heart is caring and compassionate, but is willing to give in to anger at times.
Stomach…only cares about food. But there is strength to him. And a thin line between stubbornness and tenacity.
Liver is pitiable and depressing. He's also the only one not afraid to cry.
Bladder is reliable and is always willing to help out the others…even if it means helping Liver try and kill himself.
And Lungs is so wise and makes a great mediator. Not very talkative though.
They all have such different personalities.
…
…I wonder if there's a reason for that.
But back to knowing myself.
What exactly do I want from life? Wanting to get stronger and more experienced is fine, but how am I going to do that…and what am I going to do once I achieve it?
That thought scared me. The idea that my life would become meaningless once I attained experience. That it would be as empty as the Void.
…And if Floyd avenged his friend…would he feel the same emptiness?
…Would he even need me anymore?
I shook those thoughts from my head and slapped my cheeks.
No!
So what if I don't know where I'm going every second of the day. I'll just keep on surviving until I figure it out! And Floyd will be right there beside me, helping me figure things out too! As long as I have a friend, I know I can do anything!
I'll know what I want to do eventually. And I'll stick with Floyd, even…even if I'm not entirely comfortable with taking on cultists.
Bottom-line: I don't need to know where I'm going!
…
…now where am I going?
Locating the Razed Bar was proving to be a difficult task considering how big the Kingdom was. And I was only wandering in the western quadrant. Just how massive was Ringwood?
Deciding that I needed to ask for directions, I walked over to the nearest guy I could spot.
Needless to say, he looked very dangerous.
"Um hi, excuse me." I began as I tried to get his attention. The man merely ignored me as he bumped into my shoulder and continued down the road.
Really need to work on my people skills.
"Hey excuse me, sir." I tried again as I approached a man standing by a makeshift fire. He appeared to be burning something. Perhaps he was cooking a steak.
"I'm a bit lost. Could you maybe direct…me…to…" My request died upon my lips as I saw what the man was burning. He was tossing Crafter Heads into the fire. He fixed me with the deadest look I had ever seen and growled at me.
"NevermindSorryForDisturbingYouBye!" I promptly backed away as I attempted to search for some non-dangerous looking individuals.
One seemed to catch my eye. He looked rather normal with Latino skin, black hair, and green eyes. He wore a green baseball cap, a black t-shirt, sweatpants, running shoes, and was munching on a porkchop. His name was low_bttry.
"Excuse me, sir." I called out as I caught his attention. "I'm really lost right now. Do you happen to know where the Razed Bar is?"
He slowly finished his porkchop and licked his fingers as he considered my question. "Yeah I know where that place is. You need directions?"
"Sure!...but I don't have any paper to write them down." I admitted.
"No sweat. I got a book right here." Low_bttry said as he withdrew a [BOOK AND QUILL] and handed it to me. "Let me know when you're ready to write them down."
"Alright, go ahead."
"The Razed Bar is at the corner of 'Get a map' and 'Fuck off.'" He explained before somersaulting onto a nearby building and leaping across the rooftops.
...
…did that just happen?
I just stared at the spot the acrobatic man disappeared to with a weary expression. I had possibly witnessed the most random thing ever.
"…I…why?" I questioned as I slipped the insulting directions into my belt. "Just…why does everyone have to be a…GAH!" I threw my hands up into the air, exasperated with all the weirdos of the Western District.
I hope Floyd is having better luck finding his friend.
[Floyd]
"This is the place." I said to myself as I entered the large wooden structure known as the Hall of Records.
Realizing the sheer size of the Kingdom, I had decided to ask around for help in locating Soul. I figured there must be some way of locating people in Ringwood.
Some guards had pointed me in the right direction. The Hall of Records held a copy of the Citizenship Information for every Crafter to pay Ringwood's tolls. The Hall kept tabs on everyone within the walls.
If Soul really had made it safely to Ringwood, his records would be there. And if he so happened to have purchased a house, the Hall would keep a record of the address as well.
Walking inside, my feet immediately took notice of the soft carpeted floor. An old man stood behind a counter as he flipped though some books and scribbled down some notes. A few guards stood in silence over by the corner and there was only one door that led to a room behind the counter. Other than that, I noticed a minecart track beside the counter that trailed down into the floor.
As I approached the old man, I vaguely wondered how such a large building could have so few rooms. Perhaps it meant the room behind the old man was massive in comparison.
"Hello there, sir." The elderly man greeted with a toothy smile. "How can I be of assistance?"
"I'm looking for a friend of mine. I know his name and number, but I'm not sure if he made it to Ringwood?" I explained as I rested my hands on the counter. "Is there a way to find out?"
"Well that makes my job easier." The old man chuckled as he took out a book. "What's his name and number?"
"Lost_Soul. Number 999,999,985."
He turned to open the door to the back room. "Just one moment."
As I waited for the old man to return, I thought about how Cobb was faring. He had willingly given up his only emerald to allow me to enter the Kingdom and find Soul. Although the guilt was eating at me, I had things much worse to feel guilty over.
Besides, Cobb was a smart guy. If anyone could find an emerald, he could.
The old man finally returned with two books. "You're in luck, sir. Looks like your friend made it after all." I let out a relived sigh that I wasn't aware I was holding in as he slid a book over the counter that contained Soul's citizenship information. "And he's also purchased a house in the Eastern District." He slid the other book over.
I checked the citizenship information to see that the description matched before memorizing the address of Soul's purchased home. "Alright. That's a big help. Thank you so much."
"Don't mention it son…but if you don't mind me asking…"
"What is it?" I asked perplexed by the old man's sudden fascination in me.
"Your name is Flawwed_Floyd."
"That's right."
"That's flawed…with two 'W's."
"Yeah?"
"…"
"…"
"…don't you think it's a bit misspelled?"
"Yeah. In fact the spelling is…flawwed." I worded wryly.
"Ah. I see." The old man nodded as he understood the meaning behind my name. "Well, sorry to bother you. Have a nice day."
"You too." I replied as I handed him back the books and left the Hall of Records.
Okay…Eastern District here I come!
[Hall of Records]
"Doot-doot-doo. Keeping up with records. Doot-doot-doo. Record keeping's fun." The elderly man behind the Hall of Records counter hummed merrily as the blue-haired man left the building. He resumed his note-taking on the monthly population growth of Ringwood.
The Kingdom was flourishing with a total of one-hundred and twenty thousand Crafters. Although considering the craftiness of some, the actual population was likely far greater than what was reported. The old man marveled at how the Kingdom could hold and provide for so many people. And with the amount charged for citizenship, the treasury must be bursting at the seams.
The old man remembered when he first arrived in the Kingdom. He was much younger then…at least in experience since Crafters don't age. Back then, Ringwood barely had enough guards to patrol the walls.
But things were different now. With a Captain like Private_Showers, the guards were more numerous and eager to help the Kingdom. It was truly incredible how far they've all come.
The old man was snapped out of his thoughts when the front door opened. He looked up to give his routine greeting.
"Hello there, ma'am. How can I be of assistance?" He smiled his trademark toothy smile to the young black-haired woman (who looked vaguely familiar), but she didn't visibly respond as she walked up to the counter. Her boots made a distinctive sound despite the carpet.
*tk tk* *tk tk*
"Hello." She greeted in a polite tone. "I'm afraid I need some help in locating some…friends of mine." She said that last part through clenched teeth, but if the elderly man noticed anything, he didn't say it.
"Alright, sure thing. Do you have their names or numbers?" The elderly man asked as he put his book down and prepared to enter the back room.
"Just the names. King_Cobb and Flawwed_Floyd. Two B's on the Cobb and two W's on the Flawwed." She conveyed the information quickly as she glanced at the guards stationed in the corner. One of them was eyeing her carefully and began whispering something in his fellow guard's ear.
The elderly man's eyes lit up in recognition of one of the names before he slinked off into the back room.
As he walked in, he pressed a button to the left of him that immediately illuminated the otherwise pitch black room.
The room had shelves upon shelves of chests arranged into aisles and labeled alphabetically. Performing annual checks on the records was a nightmare, but the system was relatively easy to understand. Each aisle represented a letter with the lower digits in the back and the higher digits at the front.
As a result the Hall had to be expanded several times and would probably be expanded several more given the expected population growth.
Hopefully, they'll install a few windows next time. The old man thought as he began his search.
The elderly man quickly found Floyd's information, proving how recently he entered. However, King_Cobb's information proved to be more elusive. He doubled checked the entire 'K' aisle but found nothing matching the woman's description.
The elderly man did, however, find some names that resembled the one she described and decided to bring them over in case the woman made a mistake.
Upon returning to the counter, the old man noticed something odd.
The black-haired woman was still standing in the same place, looking rather bored, but the four guards stationed around the room were no longer there.
"Did you see where the guards went?" The old man asked as he laid the citizenship books across the counter.
"I believe they mentioned something about taking their break?" The woman answered as she idly examined her nails.
"Those boys…I told them to limit their breaks to once per day." The old man shook his head in exasperation as he sorted through the books.
"It's so hard to find good guards these days, eh?" The woman inquired with a dark smile while subtly patting the sword at her belt.
"I'll say. Anyway, I found Flawwed_Floyd for you. But he hasn't purchased any property yet so I don't have an address."
The woman examined Floyd's book as she noted the number. "And what about Cobb?"
"Well I couldn't find a name that matched your description." The old man sighed as he fished through the remaining books. "Could it possibly have been King_Cong?"
"No. It's definitely King_Cobb." The woman confirmed as she drummed her fingers across the counter.
"Hmmm." The old man fished out another book. "Perhaps King_Pinn? Or maybe KinGobbler?"
"King. Cobb." The woman annunciated each word as she drummed her fingers faster against the counter. Obviously growing impatient.
"What about KinglyCornHusk?"
"NO!" The woman ceased her drumming with a slammed fist to the counter. "His name is King_Cobb! K-I-N-G! Underscore! C-O-B-B! Nothing else!"
The old man took a step back and held his arms up in front of him in an attempt to placate the woman. "I'm sorry Miss…" He glanced at the name above her head and immediately felt his blood freeze.
"…C-C-Carys?" The old man backed away upon realizing who was standing before him.
The now identified Carys unsheathed her iron sword and leapt over the counter to press its cold metal against the old man's throat. "Shout and you die."
The air the old man had inhaled to shout for help left him like a deflated balloon as he stared fearfully into Carys' crimson eyes.
"Now, why don't the two of us go back into that room and search carefully for Cobb's file?" Carys suggested as she guided the old man at sword point over to the back door.
The old man could only nod in silence as he led the way with his hands help up.
I already double-checked! The file isn't here. The old man thought as he walked over to the 'K' aisle with Carys following closely. But if I can't find her what she needs…
He shuddered as he opened the first chest and began frantically searching for the name that would possibly spare his life.
I just need to stall her. The guards will be back from their breaks any—! Suddenly, the old man realized that the guards weren't on breaks at all.
Carys killed them.
The woman was already wanted for killing over a hundred guards and civilians. From what the reports described, she was a prodigy with the blade and incorporated multiple fighting styles in order to maximize her combat proficiency.
It was no wonder the guards appeared to have 'vanished.' She was just that quick.
"I do hope you're not trying to stall." Carys stated off-handedly as if she could tell what the old man was thinking. "Because it won't do you much good."
"No…no…forgive me. I'm just a little…tired today." The old man explained nervously as he moved on to the next chest.
As time passed and the amount of chests grew less and less, the old man's terror increased, as did Carys' impatience.
The old man had enjoyed working at the Hall of Records. He considered the job of locating specific documents as a sort of treasure hunt. And he always felt enjoyment whenever he found what was asked of him and presented it to the awaiting Crafter.
But that same enjoyment was now cruelly replaced with horrifying anxiety.
How ironic.
Finally, mercifully, came the last chest. The old man already knew he wouldn't find the name, and a quick check confirmed his suspicion.
"It's not here."
Carys sighed as she pressed the blade further into the old man's back, forcing him against a wall. "I suppose it was too much to hope I'd discover both of their numbers."
The old man remained silent as he closed his eyes to await his end.
"FREEZE!"
Seven guards were blocking the aisle with their bows aimed at Carys. An extra guard patrol must have decided to check up on the Hall of Records, only to discover that nobody was behind the counter.
Carys whirled around and grabbed the old man by the neck. Backing up against the wall, she used the old man as a human shield. "I was wondering when some nosy guards would check back here." Carys stated with a grin.
"Carys_Angel!" One of the guards spoke in an authoritative tone. "You are under arrest for the murder of over a hundred Crafters! Release the old man at once!"
"And why would I do that?" Carys inquired playfully as she positioned the sword over the old man's neck.
"You must realize that there is no escaping us." Another guard stated. "We have you cornered and it's seven against one."
Carys let out a dark chuckle. "I like those odds."
A few moments passed as the guards could only hold their bow strings back, tensely awaiting someone to make the first move. The old man had broken into a sweat for being in the middle of such a stand-off.
Finally Carys spoke. "Let me see if I understand something correctly."
The authoritative guard blinked in confusion at Carys' statement.
"You guards want this old man," she shook the frightened old man as she addressed him, "to live."
"Of course!" One of the guards shouted as he tightened his hold on the bow.
"So the only thing keeping us in this stand-off…is this living geezer?" Carys inquired darkly as she gripped her sword more tightly.
The guards realized a second too late what Carys was insinuating before she slashed the old man with her iron sword.
The sword's Knockback Enchantment sent the old man flying across the room in a pained scream as he crashed into three of the aiming guards. The remaining guards, tense on their bowstrings, shot a flurry of arrows at the dark-haired criminal.
Carys swiftly ducked into the adjacent aisles as she dodged every arrow. Withdrawing a dark red potion from her belt, Carys quickly downed it and felt the surging might of the Potion of Strength II.
"Corner her!"
"Don't let her escape!"
"Take her down!"
The guards were trying to keep up with Carys in an effort to corner her. She fled past the 'E' aisle and climbed one of the shelves to get a better view of her pursuers.
Hmm. One more potion should do. She concluded as she downed a medium blue Potion of Night Vision. After that, she swapped to her bow and searched the room for the redstone object that would drastically improve her chances of winning.
There, alongside the door, was what she was looking for: A single wooden button that controlled the lights.
Aiming carefully with her bow, she shot across the room and hit the button dead center. Immediately the room was plunged into darkness.
The guards and old man were completely blind as they stumbled and crashed into each other in an effort to gauge their general locations.
But not Carys.
To her the room was clear as day.
And she could easily spot the eight bumbling targets.
She grinned as she crept silently along the shelves.
"Guys! I can't see a thing!" One of the guards shouted as he bumped his head on a shelf. "What happened to the lights!?"
"Somebody find the light sw—AUGH!" A blood-curdling scream pierced the darkness as Carys plunged her sword into the guards face. He burst in a collection of gear and a single head.
"Charles! What happened!?" One of the other guards shouted as he groped around for his friend. "Charles!? Say something!"
"GAH!"
"AIII!"
"MOMMY!"
The additional dying shrieks only served to increase the level of fear gripping the remaining guards as Carys silently and effectively exterminated each one.
"It's Carys!" One of the guards screamed in terror as he violently waved his sword in an attempt to keep the killer away.
"I'm looking for the light switch!" The elderly man called out as he leaned against the wall to guide himself.
"Just hurry up before she—NOOOO!"
*SHUNK*
"Billy! Please say something if you're still alive!" One of the guards cried in desperation as he continued to swing his sword wildly.
"Show yourself you coward!" The authoritative guard shouted as he kept his back to the wall and strained his eyes to glimpse Carys.
His bravery in such circumstances was admirable…until Carys unloaded half-a-dozen flaming arrows into him. His burning body thrashed around before exploding into a shower of loot.
"Found it!" The old man shouted triumphantly as he removed the arrow from the button and clicked it again to turn on the light.
All he saw was a single guard madly swinging his sword in every direction and six individual piles of gear with the corresponding heads of the guards who had tried to rescue him.
Five seconds later, the final guard was put down as several arrows pierced his skull, killing him instantly.
The elderly man could only look in horror as Carys_Angel turned her attention on him. He quickly bolted to the door and tripped over the counter in his haste to reach the exit.
Carys simply aimed a single fiery arrow at the door he was desperately running towards before shooting it.
And just like that, Carys claimed the lives of eleven more guards and one elderly man.
[Carys]
"So much for keeping a low profile." I deadpanned as I deposited my bow into my belt.
As I shuffled through the guards' gear for anything useful, I couldn't stop the smile creeping across my face. Losing to Cobb and Floyd made me worry that my combat skills were getting rusty. However, facing off against several opponents at once proved that my skills were still as sharp as my blades.
Those two idiots just got lucky. I concluded happily as I readied an Invisibility Potion. It was best to avoid further detection otherwise I might just have to kill an entire district (as fun as that sounded).
Verifying one of their numbers was good enough. Odds were that, if the two were traveling together, then Cobb would be around the same number as Floyd. And if Floyd was a citizen of the Kingdom, then there was no doubt he would use it as his home.
Now that I know which Kingdom they'll be staying in, I just need to hire some spies to keep tabs on them. Keep track of their friends. Lovers. Cherished pets. Objects of value.
But that can wait.
Right now, I need to take care of some…personal business to the far north. Not to mention I still need to recruit potential fighters to take on a certain cult.
So much to do. So little time. I thought as I downed the Invisibility Potion and removed my protective armor.
But it will be done. I swear Mr. Piggles.
It will be done.
[Cobb]
Why do I suddenly feel an incredible bloodlust directed towards me? I thought with a shiver. I looked around the street to see if I could locate the source, but everyone was ignoring me.
Well…almost everyone.
"Hello there sir!" An adorable girl with a bow waved over to me from a makeshift stand. "You look like you could use some assistance."
I looked around before pointing to myself to verify she was talking to me. Then I proceeded to walk over to her stand. It was small, but consisted of a counter and a pen filled with puppies. There was another guy standing beside the adorable girl and above the two of them was a sign that read 'Donate to Dogs.'
Heart: Perfect! You can ask them for directions.
Brain: I don't know…that girl looks too adorable to be trusted.
The girl in question was smiling sweetly and her eyes were shimmering like two flawless emeralds.
Heart: What? That's ridiculous. She's the only normal looking person we've seen.
I tuned out my organs as I walked up to the counter and cleared my throat. "I could use some help. There's this bar I'm looking for—"
"Would you like to donate an emerald to our charity?" The little girl interrupted without losing her beaming smile. "Every emerald goes to feeding these little guys." She gestured to the pen filled with puppies playfully scrambling over each other and wagging their tails.
But I was immune to their cutesy charms.
"No thanks. I'm kind of in a hurry. Now back to my lost situation—"
"Did you know that every one of these puppies was abandoned by some heartless monster?" The little girl interrupted again, keeping that frustratingly sweet smile plastered across her face. "It truly is a tragedy…but you can help by donating just one emerald to our—"
"I don't care," I interjected brusquely. "I just came here because I thought you would give me directions to—"
"You…don't care?" The girl tilted her head to the side, as if trying to register what I had just explained. It would've looked normal if she didn't keep that damn smile on her face. Now it just looked creepy.
I turned my attention away from the sickeningly sweet girl and tried to explain my plight to the man standing next to her. "Look, I just need to find—"
"Did you know that for every emerald we don't earn, a puppy dies?"
I slowly turned my attention back to the beaming little girl. "Is…is that an actual statistic…or a thinly veiled threat?" I ventured.
"…Yes."
"…Yes to what?" I pressed.
"..."
"Yes to the statistic or yes to the thinly veiled threat?"
"…Yes." The girl snapped her fingers and the man beside her pulled out a sword and picked out one of the puppies from the pen before whisking it down an alley. "My friend over there is just giving one of the puppies a…check-up."
I just gazed in horror at what I had just witnessed. "What kind of charity is this!?"
The little girl tittered as if I had asked a stupid question. "It's a charity to ensure these adorable little puppies are happy and healthy. Now wouldn't you feel bad knowing that you were responsible for one of these darlings' deaths?" She still had that damn smile on!
"N-no! You can't pin this on me!" I shouted in outrage. "Your buddy is killing that puppy right now isn't he?"
"I don't know what you mean sir."
*WHINE*
A series of pained whines pierced the air from the alley the man had taken the puppy.
"You don't know what I mean?" I asked skeptically to which the girl just shook her head. "You don't hear the dying whines of a puppy right now?"
"Nope."
I peeked my head around the stand. "I…I can fucking see him!" The man was repeatedly bashing the adorable puppy's head in with a sword. "He's killing the puppy right now!"
"Don't mind that. Just focus on the emerald donation." Her smile grew sinister. "It's the only way to save these little guys."
"But…I don't have any emeralds!" The little girl's smile broke and her eyes twitched erratically at my confession. "And even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't give them to some messed up charity like this!"
The girl was struggling to keep her sweet demeanor. "Well then sir," she hissed between gritted teeth, "if there is nothing more you wish to discuss, please vacate our stand."
"I'd like to discuss your charity's pitch tactics…" I muttered as I backed away from the disturbing girl and resumed my search.
Guess Brain was right about her.
Heart: …not a word Brain.
Brain: What? I was just gonna say that someone should pick up that phone.
Heart: Huh?
Brain: The phone. Don't you hear it ringing? Somebody better pick it up.
Heart: What are you talking abo—No.
Brain: Yes. Somebody better pick up that phone…
Heart: Don't you dare!
Brain: BECAUSE I FUCKING CALLED IT! OHHHHHHHHH!
Heart: …I hate you so much right now.
Back to the search, maybe the bar is down one of these alleys.
As I took a turn into one of the alleys, I noticed several piles of rotten flesh littering the ground.
Well…food is still food. I conceded as I reached for the sickening drop.
Immediately, a bedraggled looking man popped out from behind a trash bin and started shouting at me in some weird language.
"HGZB ZDZB UILN NB UOVHS!" He shouted as he crouched in front of the rotten flesh pile looking ready to bite my arm off.
"WAH! Stay back!" I threatened as I withdrew my pick. "I have a wooden pickaxe and I know how to use it!"
The man hissed at me in that same gibberish before diving towards me. I was knocked down as the man clawed and scratched at my face.
I quickly kicked him off of me before escaping out the other end of the alley. His incomprehensible howls began to fade as I rounded the corner of the alley and found myself on a larger street.
Panting to catch my breath, I took a glance around to spot the location of TheAvoided's errand. Unfortunately, none of the surrounding buildings bore the name 'Razed Bar.'
But there was a group of Crafters crowded around a wooden scaffold. It looked like something interesting was about to take place.
Curiosity getting the better of me, I walked towards the crowd and tried to get a better glimpse of the popular event.
As I peered over several heads I noticed a terrified Crafter wearing leather armor similar to TheAvoided's. Beside him were several guards with their swords held at the ready.
Is this supposed to be some kind of production or something?
One of the guards handed the terrified man a green potion while another contributed a maroon potion. The leather-clad Crafter eyed the two potions carefully before sighing in acceptance and downing the green potion.
Immediately, the leather-clad Crafter began to groan and clutch his stomach as his skin turned a sickly shade of green. I gasped as I realized he showed the same symptoms that Floyd had when he was poisoned.
What did he just drink!? Somebody needs to get him some milk! I thought as I turned to see how the audience was reacting. They just stood still, eyes fixated on the poisoned Crafter. The expressions they were making were full of cruelty and malice.
Why isn't anyone doing anything?
After the poison effect subsided, the leather-clad Crafter took one last look at the audience…before presenting them all his middle finger and downing the final maroon potion.
Instantly, the man exploded in a shower of leather armor and useless junk. Some of it pelted the audience and I was fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to catch the Crafter's dropped Head with the leather cap still on.
"UGH!" I shouted as I instantly dropped the disgusting object. Why do I keep getting into situations involving Heads!?
The leather cap, however, automatically slipped into my Inventory.
As the crowd finally dispersed and the guards left the scaffold, I could only think to myself: What did I just witness?
One of the guards saw I wasn't moving and walked up to me. "Hey buddy. Show's over. Clear the area."
"What…what did you guys do to him?" I asked as I gestured to the Head lying on the ground.
The guard immediately picked it up before tossing it in the nearest trash can. "We executed a criminal. What else?"
"A criminal? What did he do?" I asked. I couldn't help but cringe at the poor way the man's remains were disposed of.
"He was a Testificate trafficker." The guard shrugged. "The guy was luring Testificates from villages and selling them for personal trade usage. The sick bastard kidnapped dozens of Testificate children too."
"Oh." I replied lamely as I tried to comprehend the circumstances of his crime. "That is pretty bad."
"Yep. But thanks to us," His chest swelled with pride, "We're another criminal closer to ridding the streets of filth like that." He gestured behind him to a set of posters and signs.
I peered over him to get a better look at the posters and immediately recoiled and fell on my butt.
It was Carys!
What!? N-no! She should be dead!
"Hey, pal! Get a hold of yourself! They're just wanted posters." The guard calmed me down and allowed me to realize the image of Carys was just a sketch.
He offered me his hand and I pulled myself up, still staring at Carys' wanted poster. The sketch artist deserved a medal for getting Carys' cold crimson eyes and spiky black hair. It was no wonder I thought it was real.
"Here. See for yourself." The guard comforted as he guided me over to the posters. "These are some of the baddest criminals at large." He pointed to a white-haired man with dark skin. "That's 4Blite: A ruthless killer and known Lieutenant of the Endward Cult." Then he pointed to Carys' picture. "And that femme fatale is Carys_Angel: A woman responsible for the deaths of over a hundred people. Both inside and outside of the city."
"...quick question." I interjected. "Are the rewards below given only if the criminal is apprehended alive?"
"The reward is 'dead or alive,' but you need to bring us a head—literally their head—as proof of the deed."
Damnit! I cursed in my mind as I realized Carys' Head would have burnt in the lava. I could have really used the reward too. 100 Emeralds? Cha-ching!
The guard resumed his description. "And this guy is the most recent. He's wanted for fabricating counterfeit entry passes into Ringwood, among other petty crimes."
I followed the guards gaze and realized he was referring to a poster that depicted a certain familiar yet shifty individual.
"His name is TheAvoided. But unlike his name, he can't 'avoid' us forever." The guard smirked at his own clever word choice, but my brain was too busy piecing things together to care.
Brain: HOLY SHIT! He was shifty! And our pass is counterfeit! We're technically illegal refugees...and we're talking to a guard right now! Abort conversation Cobb! ABORT CONVERSATION NOW! Use an excuse maneuver!
"Uh…thanks for the explanation…But I need to go…get a drink." I excused as I began to inch away from the guard.
"Well if it's a drink you want, there's a bar about a block away." The guard directed as he pointed in a general direction. "It's called the Razed Bar. Good prices and somewhat decent drink. And the women there…woo boy."
Of course I find out where the bar is now that I know TheAvoided is a criminal. I forced a smile and nodded to the guard before leaving. I had to go towards where he was pointing since he was watching me leave. It would have looked rude to ignore his kind directions.
Bladder: So…What's the plan now?
Heart: I don't know why we shouldn't tell the guard back there the truth. He seemed…nice enough. Maybe he'll hear us out.
Brain: Yeah right! Didn't you see the way he tossed that Head in the trash? He has no sympathy for criminals.
I'm with Brain on this one. I don't want to end up like the guy on that scaffold. I paled remembering how malevolently the crowd was gazing at him. Nothing good would come of turning myself in.
Lungs: *Sigh*
Heart: Lungs is right. If we can't tell anyone, we should just get rid of the pass and citizenship information, leave the city, and look for an emerald elsewhere. That way we can become legal citizens.
No. That'll take way too long. We don't even know where the western village is.
Liver: It's probably west.
Not helping Liver.
Liver: Sorry…
Besides…I promised TheAvoided. I swore on my life. As much as I wanted to forget about the mission, I couldn't go back on my word. TheAvoided had been smart enough to make me promise.
Brain: Yeah? Well TheAvoided neglected to mention that his so-called 'fans' were guards trying to arrest him.
Stomach: And he promised food! Delicious food! None of which I've seen!
Heart: Is food all you talk about?
Stomach: I'm the stomach. So, yeah.
Can we all focus! I shouted in my mind as I leaned against a street sign. We'll follow through with TheAvoided's errand. Then we'll lay low somewhere—preferably the non-shitty part of the Kingdom—until the three days pass. Hopefully by then, Floyd will have found his friend and be able to pay us back the emerald we lent him. We'll get a pass legitimately and never talk about this ever again. Sound good?
Heart: …Not really. We're still breaking the law and I don't feel comfortable doing this.
Neither do I. I admitted. But a promise is a promise. Gotta stick with it.
Now that I settled on what I was going to do, I leaned off the street sign I was against and scanned the streets for the bar. But still, I couldn't find it.
Geez, where is this place? The guard said it was a block away, but I don't see anything.
I turned my attention to the full moon. Its pearly glow calmed my mind while I tried to collect my thoughts. Although I could have done without the street sign obstructing its view.
"Stupid sign." I mumbled as I turned and kicked it. It shook form the force, waving its corresponding signs labeling the streets.
My brain registered one of the words on the sign as 'Fuck' and I had to do a double take to see if I was imagining the name or not.
Turns out, the word really was on the sign. It was strung along with several words that read: 'Fuck Off Ave.'
Fuck Off Ave? Why would they allow someone to deface a sign…like…
…
Wait a second. I pulled out the rude directions that low_bttry gave me. No friggen way…
[The Razed Bar is at the corner of 'Get a Map' and 'Fuck Off.']
I checked the street sign again and noticed another sign below it that designated the street perpendicular to Fuck Off Ave.
'Get a Map Blvd.'
And the corner where the two streets met was a low building that I had neglected in my internal thoughts.
A frame holding a glass bottle hung like a sign on the building and written above was a dirt sign that read the words I had been searching for.
The Razed Bar.
So low_bttry's directions were…genuine? I surmised in disbelief as the direction book slipped from my numb fingers. Huh.
I take it back. Not everyone in the Western District are weirdos.
The bar had no windows and the entrance appeared to be stairs that led underground. It was kind of ironic that the bar was below ground when it had a name like "Razed Bar." Then again, there's a difference between 'raised' and 'razed.'
At least they got the 'bar' part of the name right.
Alright, now that I know I'm doing a favor for a criminal, I can be better prepared for whatever's down there. I just need to stay calm. I'll be in and out before anyone even remembers my name.
I took a deep breath to calm myself as I descended into the Razed Bar.
The dimly lit stairwell stank of rotten flesh (a scent I was fairly familiar with) and some other indescribable musk. And upon exiting, I found myself in a large, wooden tiled room.
There were no windows or torches. The only illumination was a set of erratically blinking lamps suspended from the ceiling. It was so bad, I worried I'd get an epileptic seizure just be watching them.
…what's a seiz—
Y'know what? Doesn't matter.
Anyway, the room had a bar on one side and dozens of booths and tables on the other. Also, just as the guard said, there were women who served drinks to the customers…and maybe something else if the curtained booths in the back were any indication.
Some of the women were eyeing me as soon as I walked in. I couldn't tell if the looks were of suspicion, disgust, intrigue, arousal, or just indifference, but I didn't have time to care.
I had to find…Kane was it?
Crap. Did I already forget the guy's name? Or worse, did I forget the message?
Brain, I—
Brain: Yeah, yeah. I got the memories right here. His name is Kane. And he gets his payment in a month.
I sighed in relief. Maybe having organs keeping track of things for you was a good thing.
…Also having organs for life sustaining functions was good too.
I made my way over to the bar, ignoring some of the looks I was getting, and sat down. Immediately, one of the woman serving drinks walked over to try and flirt with me, but after taking a purposefully large bite out of some rotten flesh, she abruptly left.
It's like rotten flesh is a Crafter repellent. I thought smugly.
I called down the bartender, a large man with a handlebar mustache and a gray leather tunic, and asked if he had anything for an emerald-less customer.
He quickly pulled out an empty bottle and passed it to me. "Fresh bottled air. Enjoy."
I thanked him and humorously took a sip of the empty bottle. "That's some good air." My attempts to alleviate tension didn't go so well if the bartender's grim face was any indication. Instead I just cut to the chase. "I'm looking for a man named Kane. I have a message for him."
"From who?
"TheAvoided."
The bartender stood up straighter and eyed me carefully. "Well if it's Kane you want, you're lookin' at 'im. What's the message?"
Confused, I checked above the man's name. It didn't read 'Kane.' It just read 'Hammond.'
"How can I be sure you're Kane? Your name doesn't—"
"Kid, you're obviously new to the underground game," the bartender interrupted gruffly, "so I'm gonna make it nice and simple. We can't go around tossing our names willy-nilly, especially with names literally over our heads. People hear things. We get put away. So we use nick-names."
"Ah…I see." I nodded in understanding, wishing I had just told the guy so as to not antagonize him. "Anyway, he says that you'll get your payment in a month."
The bartender sent a glare my way. "What was that?" His voice sounded irritated and I had no idea why.
Still, I had honored my promise and delivered the message. I had no further business with the bartender, so with my message delivered, I got ready to leave. "You heard me. One month. Now if you'll excuse me—"
The bartended slammed his fist against my hand, pinning it to the table and making me cry out in pain.
"I think I may have misheard you, kid." The bartender spoke in a forced calm and out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a couple of customers look up apprehensively. "It sounded like you said 'one month' instead of 'one week.'"
I tried budging Kane's hand, but he was too strong…or maybe I was too weak. Either way I was trapped. Why couldn't things ever be simple?
"Sorry, he was very specific…one month." I repeated since my mouth was the only thing that could get me out of the current situation.
"Well then let me be more specific." Kane explained as he reached under the counter and pulled out a sharp stone blade.
You can make swords from rocks? I wish I knew that earlier! I thought as I watched the weapon carefully.
"Tell TheAvoided, that if he doesn't sneak his ass back into the city and pony up the emeralds, then he's gonna end up like the last messenger he sent in here. Bloody, bruised, and near dead." He gave me an intense look and I suddenly realized that I was the last messenger.
Time to use my quick thinking.
"Before that can I ask you something?" I questioned calmly as I reached my hand down to my flint and steel.
"Yeah? And what would that be?" The bartender asked in mock interest.
"…Why is Carys_Angel behind you?"
The effect was immediate as the bartender whirled, panic streaked across his ugly face, to locate Carys.
Too bad for him I was bluffing. But the second the bluff gave me was all I needed to set the counter on fire. Right by his hand.
Realizing I had lied and feeling the heat from the flames, the bartender relinquished his hold of my hand and slashed with his stone sword. I quickly ducked as his blade stuck in the wood counter, before bolting to the door.
Too bad he had some goons waiting. Each armed with a dull stone sword.
Crap! I internally groaned as I changed course from the exit to one of the booths. The women passing out drinks immediately found cover under tables when I rushed past them. It's like they were used to customer-bartender 'disagreements.'
"Get 'im!" Kane roared as he patted down the burning counter. "That little shit is gonna pay for burning my bar!"
I scanned through my Inventory for anything useful for combat. Flint and steel. Wooden sword…Leather cap! I quickly put it on, hoping the armor would be of some assistance.
There was a total of four goons, plus Kane. If I could get past all five of them, I would be clear to escape.
So Kane doesn't want his bar on fire, eh? Arson powers: Activate!
I quickly set fire to several tables (making sure there were no Crafters nearby), and kept my distance as Kane began to panic.
"NO! Put 'em out! PUT 'EM OUT!" Kane howled as he ran forward with some buckets of water. Half of his goons quit their chase and aided the bartender in fighting the fires. The other half managed to corral me into a corner.
Maybe I would have been more afraid of the goons a week ago, but after going toe-to-toe with Carys—alright I couldn't even land a hit on her—I was confident I had enough experience to handle two goons. Even if they did have stronger weapons.
I blocked the first goon's sword swing with my wooden sword, and I was pleased to see my weaker blade didn't immediately snap. But a second sword soon followed from my unarmed side. To dodge, I was forced to drop my weapon.
A second later, a well aimed kick caught me off guard and sent my stumbling into a booth…right into a relaxing Crafter.
"…wha?...Hey! I'm trying to drink here!" The Crafter shouted. By the voice, I could tell it was a woman. She had long, ivory hair, amber eyes, and a pink bow atop her head.
I muttered a quick apology as I dove to avoid another sword strike. The goons apparently had no qualms about accidentally injuring a customer, seeing as how the sword missed the woman by a scant three inches.
The woman, on the other hand, didn't immediately react. It was as if she was half-dazed from whatever she was drinking.
I rolled to my feet and withdrew a different tool from my Inventory as a weapon: A fishing rod.
The goons guffawed at my latest attempt at defense. They had no idea what the fishing rod was capable of.
"Laugh it up, block-heads," I taunted. "But you should know that this fishing rod killed the Carys_Angel! No tricks or gimmicks!"
Except being over a massive pool of lava.
Still, my taunt had the desired effect. The goons stiffened, wondering if I was bluffing or telling the truth, and glanced at the fishing rod with tense suspicion.
"He's lying you morons!" Kane shouted while putting out the last fire. "Just kill 'im already!"
Understanding Kane's orders, one of the goons leapt forward to deal a finishing blow.
"And CAST!" I shouted as I whipped the rod and latched a hook onto the goon's leather armor before reeling him in. The goon, not expecting the sudden pull, was unable to stop his momentum while flying forward.
I ducked as he sailed overhead and crashed into a table, startling a few more customers. He slumped unconscious and dropped his stone sword, which I quickly picked up to replace my wooden one.
The other goon brought his blade down in a heavy swing. Instead of blocking, I rolled underneath a table, hoping it was strong enough to withstand the strike, and swept at the goon's exposed legs.
He fell like a sack of bricks and I stood over him, ready to deal the killing blow. My sword was raised to cruelly come crashing down upon his skull.
'I'm worried about…are we…going to turn into…you know…the cult?'
As the memory came to mind, I slowly lowered my sword, realizing I was way too close to killing someone…purposefully.
Noting my hesitation, the grounded goon kicked at my legs, sending me tumbling onto another table. He regrouped with his other goon buddies and Kane, who had by now finished putting out the fires.
I shakily got back up to my feet. I was running low on Hunger and my rotten flesh wasn't going to satiate it.
Instead, I swapped my sword for my flint and steel and prepared to set fire to even more tables.
Hey, when in doubt…arson.
But just as I was about to light up a table, my arm was caught and held in place by someone. I turned to get a better look, and realized it was the ivory-haired woman from the booth.
"King_Cobb," she began in a calm, yet firm tone, "you're under arrest for conspiring with TheAvoided, using excessive fire within the Kingdom…and spoiling my drink."
"Wha—" That was all I managed to say before she kneed me in the gut, knocking the wind out of me. I collapsed onto the wooden floor, flint and steel slipping from my numb hands and sight fading.
The last thing I saw were the woman's white leather boots walking towards the goons, before darkness fully claimed my vision.
The leather cap…didn't do shit. I thought as I passed out.
Inventory (Cobb): 1 Wooden Shovel, 1 Stone Sword, 1 Wooden Pickaxe, 1 Wooden Pickaxe {Weak}, 1 Wooden Hoe, 1 Wooden Axe, 1 Fishing Rod, 1 Bow {Weak}, 26 Cobblestone, 12 Flint, 4 Coal, 8 Torches, 1 Minecart, 18 Oak Wood Planks, 2 Wooden Pressure Plates, 1 Trapdoor, 3 Oak Doors, 1 Wooden Button, 1 Clock, 37 Dirt, 2 Signs, 1 Water Bucket, 12 String, 1 Bone, 2 Glass Bottle, 1 Bowl, 1 Leather Cap, 1 Leather Boots, 1 Crafting Table, 3 Rotten Flesh, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Entry Pass}
AN: Twenty Chapters. Twenty Weeks. Longest Chapter so far.
Special thanks to gs gaming for the OC: low_bttry. I know his inclusion was short and minor, but I needed a stranger to give Cobb directions. Not to mention the character's description was so short and I had little to go on, so I decided a random passerby was the best option.
That being said, don't think I'm just tossing in OCs willy-nilly. I take into account backstory and personality to make them feel apart of Minecraftia. I wanna try to make characters as memorable and real as Creation's_Spark, but the timing needs to be genuine.
IMPORTANT: I have a poll on my profile regarding the usage of Tinker's Construct (a Minecraft Mod) and I need you, the viewers, to vote and help me decide. Please, it's important.