AN: 4000 Views. 26 Favs. 27 Follows.
The answer to last week's puzzle: Grandfather, father, and son. That would make two fathers, and two sons...most of you got that answer. Just means I'll have to try harder on these riddles! Congrats to joel348 for being the first to guess it right. Enjoy your cookie and your acknowledgment.
(::)
Puzzle: What has 6 faces, and 21 eyes?
Disclaimer: I don't own Minecraft. If I did, Potions of Leaping would allow higher jumping capability.
Beta: Myself since I couldn't get this to TheWritingReader in time. My bad!
Chapter 23
Silver Intent
[Cobb]
Alright guys. What's the status report?
Stomach: It's not pretty. Brain was swinging along the chandelier for hours before he slipped and banged his head.
Lungs: *Sigh*
Stomach: Bladder could you clean this place up? And take back the wine coolers while you're at it.
Bladder: You got it.
Heart: Is he gonna be ok?...not that I care or anything.
Stomach: I don't know. He might have a concussion.
Brain has a concussion? I feel like there's irony in there.
Bladder: Ha! I get it.
Liver: Hey! Maybe this means…I could be the new brain!
Lungs: *Sigh*
Heart: Lungs is right. We shouldn't be trying to replace him after just a short while. We'll give him some time to heal.
Liver: Oh, yeah, of course...time to heal…
Stomach: In the meantime Cobb, you'll have to advise your own decisions from now on.
Works for me. Your advice has been digging a deeper grave for me ever since I got here.
Cobb, over and out.
I returned my attention to the Captain I was traveling with down Ringwood's bustling Southern District. I was right in thinking that the Western District was the shitty part of the Kingdom.
The buildings were way more pristine, the people more collective and friendly, and the air breathable.
Not to mention, we were cutting through the crowd like a hot knife through butter. Wynn's reputation as a discipline-crazed Captain proved to come in handy as the populace parted at the mere sight of her. I just had to follow in her wake.
"So…where exactly are we going?" I questioned. "Are we heading to your house?"
Wynn let out an irritated sigh. "No. I'm putting off that unpleasant inevitability as long as I can. We're going to the Hall of Records."
I blinked in confusion. "The Hall of Records? Is that a music store?"
"Your ignorance is painful." She grumbled with a flip of her hair. "The Hall of Records is where every citizen of Ringwood is catalogued. Their name. Their appearance. Their number. Housing records…and criminal records." She glared at me saying that last part.
*Gulp*
"And since you will be living in my personal abode, you will need to be registered as a citizen. Properly this time." Another glare was sent my way and I could only chuckle nervously.
Eventually, we arrived at a long wooden building. Two iron-clad guards with green leather helmets were stationed outside the entrance. Upon seeing Wynn, they immediately stood up straight and saluted her.
"At ease." She responded, relieving them. "Anything to report?"
"No ma'am. Nothing out of the ordinary." One of the guards responded.
Wynn hummed before stepping past them. "Keep your eyes open."
As we walked inside, I noticed a bunch more armored guards. There had to be at least a dozen in that one room!
"You guys sure take your records seriously." I whistled impressed. "Afraid someone might steal something?"
Wynn glanced at me as if considering answering my question. "Well, while the Hall of Records is of major concern to us…four or five guards would usually be enough." She gazed around the room, making sure to take in each and every guard. Ensuring nobody was slacking off.
"The extra security is because of the recent…incident."
"What happened?"
She raised an eyebrow. "You really want to know?"
I nodded. I could've said no, but she had already piqued my interest! I had to find out.
"Then tell me something first." She responded a little too quickly.
I just gave her a confused look, prompting her to elaborate. "How did you know about Carys' gear? The Enchantments. The pig. Only a handful of people know that, so how did you?"
It took me a second to realize she still didn't think I fought Carys_Angel. Was it really so hard to believe? Sure she was tough and I didn't so much as scratch her in combat, but the way everyone went on about her, it sounded like she was Death Incarnate.
…miiight be why she nicknamed herself the Angel of Death.
"I was telling the truth." I responded evenly, to which Wynn just shook her head.
"Right. Nothing, but the truth from your mouth, oh selfless hero."
Before I could retort, a young man met us at the counter. His eyes slid over me and stuck on Wynn.
"Ah Miss Whispers! A pleasure as always. You here to compare citizenship backgrounds?" Apparently Wynn came to the Hall of Records often if the young man's familiar response was any indication.
"Afraid not Chester. I'm here because this…" —she struggled for a suitable noun as she gestured to me— "…guy, needs to fill out his Citizenship Book and get an Entry Pass. Slunk right through the walls."
The man named Chester returned his gaze to me with a bonus look of dislike. "Illegal entry? Should I be concerned?"
"Not at all. He's harmless and stupid."
"I'm standing right here!"
"He also loves to point out the obvious. Makes him feel smarter."
"HEY!"
"I understand." Chester then turned to me and addressed me very slowly, as if he was talking to a child. "Can. You. Tell. Me. Your. Number."
I frowned in annoyance before answering. "It's nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine…nine." I ticked the nines off my fingers, making sure not to miss one.
Chester nodded, mentally reciting my list of nines. "Alright, just give me a minute to check things." He exited through a back door to some chest filled room.
Wynn scoffed beside me. "That's really your number? Because lying at this time isn't going to do you any good."
"That's the number Helena gave me—y'know what. Let's try something." I turned to her. "I can tell you don't trust me—"
"Naturally."
"—But I also can tell that the King—"
"His Eminence!"
"—Has already decided that I'm mostly innocent." I kept going, ignoring her intermittent comments. "And now we're stuck with each other for the next bunch of days—"
"Ten days. Minimum." She specified.
"—Therefore, no matter what you say to him,…His Eminence…is not going to change my punishment. Right?"
"…No." The Captain grumbled grudgingly. "He was quite taken with your…tale."
"So whatever I tell you from now on will have no effect on my punishment?" I posed it more as a statement than a question, to which she nodded curtly. "Then how about this. From now on, I'll tell you the truth about…everything…as long as you trust my words. Because, honestly, being scrutinized by your skepticism is getting on my nerves."
I waited in silence as she considered my offer. I figured that if I explained how my crimes were accidents, then she'd drop her hostile attitude. And surely her own curiosity would sway her to accept.
Finally, Wynn spoke up. "Very well. Since you answered my question first," she took a quick glance around the room, "two days ago, eleven guards and a clerk working the Hall, were murdered. Their Heads and gear were found stuffed in the backroom's chests."
My eyes widened in shock. "Murder? But…but we're in a Kingdom!"
"So? Just because we're in a Kingdom, protected by guards and people like me, doesn't mean crime is nonexistent." She held up her hand to tick off her fingers. "Theft, kidnapping, illegal entry, Black Market dealings, and murders. I've seen it all."
"But…but who would do something like—" Suddenly a certain cult crossed my mind. "The Endward Cult?"
Wynn shook her head. "No. While the Endward Cult has been a problem for Ringwood, I don't think it was them."
"Because…"
"Because the Heads were still present." Wynn stated darkly. "It's the Cult's M.O. for keeping track of how many Crafters they've killed. Since the victim's Heads were present, it was someone else…someone able to handle eleven guards simultaneously."
"Oh…um what's M.O?" I questioned.
"Modus operandi."
"Gesundheit."
A nerve popped out of Wynn's forehead. "No. Modus operandi is what M.O. stands for."
"Oh…"
"…"
"…uh—"
"It means methods of operation." She explained with a sigh, predicting my question.
After concluding that discussion, we waited in silence. Wynn tapped her foot impatiently while I twiddled my thumbs.
Think, Cobb! You have a golden opportunity to learn more about Minecraftia. Wynn is probably way more experienced…
Actually…
"Hey, Wynn—"
"You will address me as Captain or Miss Whispers for the duration of your sentence." She interrupted coldly.
"Alright." I consented irritated. "Captain Wynn. What's your number?"
"642,005." She stated proudly.
"Wow. That's…a lot less than mine." I stated lamely. "So you've been around for quite a while right?"
"Yes. I've lost track of the exact amount of years, but I suppose it's been around…350." My mouth hung open in shock. "I look younger because Crafters don't age. So you can close your agape mouth now."
I quickly obeyed her suggestion and thought about how to phrase my next question. "So you probably have a lot of experience and knowledge at under your belt, right?"
Before she could answer, Chester returned with a frown directed towards me. "Nice try asshole."
"Huh?" I couldn't understand what I had done to earn so much animosity.
"Someone's already registered under that number you gave." I stared dumbly at Chester as his words sunk in. "Were you just trying to be facetious? Or is this another deeper crime in the works? Trying to pass yourself off as someone else?"
Someone…already has my number?
Before I could say anything, Wynn gripped the scruff of my hoodie and yanked me towards her. She looked angry as she leveled a glare at me. "Are you a pathological liar or what!? I thought we agreed no more lies!"
"Wait! Wait!" I tried desperately to calm her down. "I wasn't lying! That was the number Helena gave me! I-I would never forget a number like that!"
What's going on? I know I didn't make a mistake with the number…maybe the clerk messed it up?
"You're positive it was back there? Nine nines?" I questioned the clerk who deepened his frown.
"Look, I may be new to the job. But even I'm not that big of a greenhorn to mix up numbers." He tossed Wynn a book. "See for yourself, Captain."
Wynn's eyes scanned the pages before she turned her glare back to me. "The number's taken. So either you're lying—"
"Which I'm not!" I defended indignantly.
"—Someone else is lying, or…Helena made a mistake."
Wynn released my hoodie and I fixed it so it didn't look stretched (not that my clothes received damage in any sense).
The Captain returned the book as she addressed the clerk. "Write a note alerting the clerks to find the supposed nonupal nine Crafter. If he purchases a house or re-enters this Hall let him know of the possible mix-up." Chester nodded.
"And as for you," she glared at me and I flinched, "you better not be lying to me. Because if you are—"
"I'm not! And why would I anyway? I wouldn't risk going back to prison after everything Floyd did for me!" I defended logically and that seemed to have calmed her down.
"Alright, then." She relaxed. "The other case is that Helena—as one of the oldest beings in Minecraftia—lost track of the numbering system, skipping numbers or, in this case, labeling two Crafters with the same one." She turned her attention back to Chester. "Therefore, Cobb will require a different number until we can discover the mix-up. Any suggestions?"
Chester took out a spare book and entry pass. "I already searched through the numbers. 999,999,998 is taken so the closest available number is 1,000,000,000."
Wynn cringed. "10-digits? Kind of a step down, but at least it can be said easier. And if there's no other number." She nudged me with her elbow. "Sign the book."
I quickly obeyed and signed my name, experiencing déjà vu from the last time I signed my name into a book with TheAvoided.
…what's déjà vu?
"But wait, so what's my official number then?" I questioned as I returned the book. Chester then began furiously scribbling stuff down and took the entry pass to the back room for…whatever.
"Your official number will be one billion until we can straighten this mess out. Just remember the number given to you by Helena." Wynn affirmed. "Keep in mind though, Ringwood is a big Kingdom. We may never find the guy, so start getting used to your new number. It will also be the number the Hall uses to label you."
"…Got it." I mumbled depressed as I accepted the newly signed Citizenship Information and Entry Pass from Chester.
Aw man! I kinda liked my number with the nine nines in order. Now I'm a whole number up…I'll appear less experienced than I did before!
But on the plus side, it is easier to say. And it's the first ten-digit number!
But I wonder who has my number? I thought to myself as Wynn led us from the building to her next errand on the list. Is it really possible Helena made a counting error?
Or maybe what Wynn suggested first. Someone stole my number.
…
Ha! Yeah right!
After all, what kind of person would be desperate enough to steal that number?
[Noman]
Standing between two alleys, I quickly glanced across the street to spot a patrol of two guards in front of the Central District's towering plateau.
I turned back to my black and orange companion. "So just to clarify," she rolled her eyes, "I just want to make sure. The Crystal Catacombs are inside that plateau?"
Spark nodded as she scribbled something down in her book.
[YES! FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME, YES!]
[THE CRYSTAL CATACOMBS ARE A BURIAL GROUND FOR THE KINGS AND CAPTAINS OF THE PAST. AS SUCH, ONLY OTHER KINGS AND CAPTAINS ARE ALLOWED ENTRY TO PAY THEIR RESPECTS.]
"How do they get inside? We circled the whole plateau and found no entrance." I questioned as I handed the book back to her.
[THERE IS NO OUTSIDE ENTRANCE. MOST CITIZENS SPECULATE THAT THERE'S A SECRET STAIRCASE LEADING INTO THE PLATEAU FROM THE PALACE. IT WOULD MAKE IT MORE CONVENIENT FOR ROYALTY TO ENTER.]
[AND WE DIDN'T CIRCLE THE PLATEAU TO FIND AN ENTRANCE. WE CIRCLED THE PLATEAU TO LOOK FOR A BLIND SPOT TO MAKE AN ENTRANCE. THE GUARD PATROLS ARE MOST VULNERABLE AT THIS SPOT.]
When I finished reading I began to panic. "Uh…that's great and all…but if the general public aren't allowed in there, what would happen if I get caught sneaking in?"
Spark shrugged before forming fists in front of her face. As if she was miming holding onto prison cell bars.
The message was clear. Prison.
I groaned before realizing she had written another message. [DON'T WORRY, NOMAN. NOBODY'S GOING TO SEE YOU BECAUSE I HAVE A PLAN.]
She pulled out a leather tunic, an ink sac, a pumpkin, and two invisibility potions from her backpack.
It was the oddest collection of items I had seen and I could hardly fathom what her plan was.
She tossed me one of the potions while she quickly combined her leather tunic and ink sac. The result was a black dyed tunic, which she promptly put on. Finally, she placed the pumpkin over her head as a helmet of sorts. It was then I realized that the pumpkin had a spooky face carved into it.
[I'LL MAKE THE GUARDS LEAVE THEIR POSITION. WHEN I DO, DRINK THE POTION AND DIG OUT AN ENTRANCE IN THE PLATEAU.]
[BUT MAKE SURE YOU REPLACE THE BLOCKS YOU DIG OUT SO NOBODY NOTICES THE ENTRANCE. WE'LL MEET BACK UP AT THAT INN WE STAYED AT. MIDNIGHT.]
I nodded as I returned the book. "You sure you want to do…whatever it is you're doing? I don't exactly see what your plan is."
She waved off my concern as she exited the alleyway from the other end, leaving me alone.
Realizing I didn't have a pickaxe, I set my Crafting table down and used my ten planks to form a wooden pick as well as a wooden axe. I recollected my Crafting table and my two remaining wooden planks and waited for whatever Spark had intended to do.
A few minutes later and I saw it.
A floating pumpkin and black dyed tunic were hovering near the guards. No doubt it was Spark under the affects of an invisibility potion. I was surprised that not only items held were visible during the affects of the potion. Apparently, any worn gear would also remain visible.
Anyway, the guards quickly noticed the floating tunic and pumpkin and began shouting something at it. Then the apparition turned and ran away, leading the two guards from their post as they gave chase.
Noticing my opportunity, I quickly drank the potion she gave me and felt the familiar feeling of disappearance wash over me. I rushed over to the stone brick plateau and mined out a section of the wall. It was quite thick, but I slipped inside and replaced the stone bricks faster than a blink.
And it was then I had made it to the Crystal Catacombs.
As I turned to face what the inside of the plateau looked like, I was struck by how quiet it was. The noise of the urban crowds was silenced by the airtight walls.
The inside of the plateau looked hollow with a cylindrical staircase in the middle, extending up to meet the ceiling, which I assumed led into the palace above.
Glowing blocks decorated the ceiling in the image of an apple, serving to both illuminate the room and offer superb artistry.
It was a shame the general public were forbidden from seeing it.
But most important were the structures seen on the ground. Closer to the central staircase were dozens of statues. Each one towered at least a hundred feet.
I carefully walked over to get a closer look, making sure to keep an eye out for any other visitors. If what Spark said was true, there was always a chance some royalty or Captains would show up.
As I passed the statues, I noticed that each one had a sign listing a name, date of birth and date of death, a number, and a small message to be remembered by.
I quickly realized that the statues served as ornate graves to remember the fallen. That made sense since Crafters don't leave a corpse behind. Just a Head…
Which was displayed on a flat stone altar in front of each effigy.
"Ugh." I cringed aloud. Although the idea of graves commemorating those that died serving the Kingdom sounded noble, the idea of keeping the Heads around was still revolting. Surely having a giant likeness would be enough to memorize a deceased's features.
"Who said that?" I deep voice came from somewhere to the left of me. I turned on my heel to see a green-haired Crafter with a white button up gakuran (how do I even know what that is?) tan jeans, and wearing diamond armor over it.
I froze on the spot, thinking of a way to explain myself, when all of a sudden he turned to look elsewhere. It was then I remembered that I was still under the effects of the Invisibility Potion. So all I had to do was stay quiet and he would be none the wiser.
After a while of vain searching, the green-haired man must have concluded that he heard nothing because he returned to the grave he was mulling over. I watched as he placed a single rose over the altar before patting the corresponding statue and heading towards the central staircase.
After he left, I walked over to the grave he was examining and read the sign…
And almost fell over in shock.
I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't seeing things just as my Invisibility wore off.
[Here Lies Notch (#2). January 1st, 0000-March 25th, 0150.]
[The only way forward, is endward.]
[Floyd]
"Soul! Open up! I know you're in there!" I shouted as I banged on his cottage door. The memory of my failure was still fresh in my mind, but I wouldn't let that stop me.
This time, I wouldn't take 'no' for an answer!
Several minutes of loud knocking later and the door was still unanswered. Fed up with waiting, I opened the door myself and searched for Soul so I could gain his forgiveness.
Through force if necessary.
The cottage was illuminated by torches, but all the rooms were empty of people. A few chests were scattered around containing everyday gear (sticks, string, rotten flesh, etc.) but there was no sign of Soul.
Where the hell is he? I wondered as I took another look through the cottage. There were some items I had never encountered before.
A flower pot holding a baby cactus.
A beautiful painting of mountains at sunset.
A frame holding a piece of paper.
Some bookshelves.
Wait a second…
I returned my attention to the framed piece of paper.
Why would Soul frame this? I thought as I pulled the paper from the frame.
It had a message written on it...similar to the Endward Cult invitation I pulled off of Crawford.
[Granger's Barn. Behind the hay bales.]
I stared at the message, remembering passing a barn nearby with that name.
I returned the paper to the frame and considered my options.
Should I wait for Soul to come back? I'm sure he'll understand why I had to break into his home to ask his forgiveness.
…
Or should I check out this message? If it's in Soul's cottage, it might give me an idea where Soul is.
…
What would Cobb do?
…
He'd probably try and get himself involved in complicated things beyond what he originally intended to do.
…
"Mysterious message it is." I concluded as I left the cottage, towards the Granger's Barn just up the street.
The barn itself was nothing special. It even looked like it needed repairs, what with all the holes in the ceiling.
Plus, weren't barns supposed to have horses in them? Or some kinds of farm animals?
This one only had hay bales. Piles and piles of hay bales. They stacked particularly high in the back.
Exactly where the message specified to go.
I sighed as I began climbing the bales of hay. They were surprisingly sturdy, able to hold up my weight, as I climbed them, but I still couldn't understand what the big deal about the hay bales was…
At least not until, crawling atop the highest pile, my hands met nothing beneath me. Losing my balance, I quickly grasped out for any sort of ledge or object of support.
My hands quickly met the rungs of a ladder. One that traveled into a hole in the hay pile. It was completely concealed from the outside, so only somebody who knew where to look would know that it was there.
Secret ladder.
I positioned myself so that my feet met the rungs and began my descent. The ladder stretched quite a ways down, illuminated only by sparse torches. It probably extended below the foundations of the barn.
Finally, my feet met the ground, and I exited the ladder into a small stone room. Bunk beds lined the walls and there were a few chairs here and there.
Over by the corner was a pool of water contained by some stone slabs. There was a furnace in the center, and some stands holding glass bottles on wooden tables.
And there was also another set of doors leading to another room.
Where the hell am I? I thought to myself as I walked over to the stands holding glass bottles. They looked like they were holding potions of various types and colors.
I picked one up at random. A bright green [POTION OF LEAPING]. I sniffed it, before returning it to its original spot. It would've been rude to steal from people who I didn't even meet yet.
Then again, I'm probably already being rude breaking into someone's secret hay bale base.
Suddenly, I began hearing voices steadily getting louder and louder. It was coming from the doors leading to another room.
I hastily dove behind the bunk beds and hid myself just as the doors opened, revealing two people.
The first was a woman with light purple hair. In fact, it was the same woman I bumped into outside of Soul's cottage two days ago.
She had wavy, light purple hair that reached to her collarbone in length, peach skin, and aquamarine eyes. Fixed atop her head was a pair of black goggles.
She wore a light blue gradient tank top, blue jean shorts, and tan Ugg boots. Her backpack and belt were the same shade of purple as her hair. And her name was Courageous_Cara.
The other person with her was Soul.
So the good news was I found him. The bad news was…I had no idea what I had stumbled into.
Maybe following Cobb's way of doing things wasn't the best idea.
While I thought on how best to reveal myself to the two, I saw that they were talking quite amiably with each other.
"So how did your lead turn out?" Soul asked as he walked over to the potion stands. "Any signs of cultist activity?"
"Yep." Cara smiled as she munched on some bread from her backpack. "The Endward Cult was definitely using that building as potion brewing site. But, strangely enough, there were no cultists guarding the place."
"They probably heard you were coming and ran for the hills." Soul chuckled as he withdrew a red potion from the stands.
"With my long range skills, they probably would be worse off running." Cara commented as she sidled up to Soul to grab a light gray potion of her own. "And I don't think that's the case."
Soul rolled his eyes. "Alright then 'O experienced one.' What's your theory?"
"Well since you asked so nicely 'O angsty one,'" Cara commented as she lightly swatted at Soul's arm, "Cultist activity within the Kingdom hasn't dropped this past week. It's vanished completely. Still missing people, but no missing Heads." Cara grabbed a pink Potion of Regeneration to go with her other potion. "It's almost like the Cult's just…left the Kingdom entirely."
Soul rubbed his chin in thought. "So is that good or bad for us?"
"Well," Cara began brightly, "it's good for us because with an unguarded potion brewing site, I managed to appropriate a sizable amount of potion supplies. Brett's gonna have a field day when he sees what I got him!"
"And the building?"
Cara suddenly stopped her cheering and adopted an embarrassed look as she turned away. "Building? Ha ha. What building?"
"The potion brewing site. Did you…" Soul deadpanned at her. "You burned it to the ground didn't you."
She stuck out her tongue apologetically. "Well, it belonged to the Cult. Toasting it with nobody around seemed the safest thing to do."
"Safest?" Soul raised an eyebrow.
"Let me rephrase that. It was the…bestest thing to do."
"Did you just burn it to save time and eliminate one of the Northern Division's key potion brewing cites, or did you do it because you're a little pyromaniac?"
"It was to save time and eliminate a key threat…and I'm a little pyromaniac." She added with a wink.
In response, Soul pulled back Cara's goggles and released them, allowing them to nail her in the head with an audible 'SNAP.'
While Cara rubbed her head in pain and Soul shook his head in exasperation, I decided that the best thing to do would be to reveal myself to the two.
Hopefully, they wouldn't flip out.
"Soul." I called out as I rose from my hiding spot.
Soul whirled on me, his relaxed expression morphing into surprise and then anger. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Meanwhile, Cara, upon noticing me, hid herself behind Soul and drew out a bow.
Well, not the best start, but at least they're not flipping out…sort of.
"I came here to ask for forgiveness." I stated calmly. "And I'm not leaving until we talk. As in actually talk this out."
"I thought I made things pretty clear: Leave me alone." Soul countered as he pulled out an iron axe from his belt. "And instead of listening, you barge into our secret base without a care in the world. You have any idea who you could've alerted coming down here!?"
"I don't even know where here is. What is this place?" I questioned as I took another short look around the room.
"It's our base." A new voice sounded from the ladder behind me. I turned to spot an aged man with silver hair. "The base of the Silver Intent."
[Cobb]
"So then when I figured the guy wasn't really a celebrity, I knew that his message would probably lead me into trouble." I explained to Wynn as she purchased a set of leather armor from a merchant. "But, see, by then I had already swore on my life to fulfill his request."
Wynn nodded in understanding as we left the store. "I'm aware of the level of honor imbued in an oath. That being said, I can't believe TheAvoided managed to sucker you in so easily." She suddenly stopped as she turned her head to regard me again. "On second thought, it's not so hard to believe."
"Ouch." I cringed as if in actual pain from her insult. "I'll admit I'm not classically intelligent, but I can think on my feet…sometimes...on a good day."
"Then the past few days must have been bad ones." Wynn jabbed as she replaced her diamond armor and white leather boots with the leather set she just bought. "So you were planning on just passing the message and hope that none of it ever returned to bite you in the posterior."
"…uh what's—"
"Your rear." She specified.
"Well why didn't you just say that?" I complained as she led me into the Western District. "And yeah, I was kind of hoping everything would resolve itself after that…but, surprise-surprise, it just got more complicated."
"Well, tough." Wynn stated in a firm tone. "That's life for you. Your actions have consequences, both big and small…and now I'm stuck babysitting you for the next few days."
I frowned before an idea crossed my mind. "Well…technically you don't have to watch me." She raised an eyebrow in intrigue. "I mean, we could just tell the Ki—His Eminence! That's what I meant to say!—that we've been getting along, staying in each other's company—"
"When really we'd be staying as far away from each other as possible." Wynn finished as she rubbed her chin, considering the offer.
"Exactly." I internally cheered seeing my plan work. Stage one: Act honest and open yourself up to develop a level of mutual understanding.
Stage two: Try and make a deal to get away from the disciplinary Captain and back to friendly Floyd.
After all, if I was going on a week long journey to a far away Kingdom, I'd need to pack supplies. Train more against Mobs. Maybe try mining for ores.
Finally, Wynn broke me out of my internal thoughts. "While the offer is tempting, I'm afraid I can't leave you alone."
"What? Why?" I groaned as she lead us further into the Western District. (Where exactly are we going? And why did she change her armor?) "I've explained that my 'criminal activities' were just accidents! Not to mention, I think I've proven that I'm NOT a most wanted level criminal."
"Oh that goes without saying." Wynn waved off my statement as if it was obvious. "You're about as harmless as a rabbit…and not the killer deadly kind."
I had to replay her statement in my head, just to check I had heard it correctly. There's a killer deadly kind of rabbit?
I shook that thought away as I refocused on the main argument. "Then why did you lie to the K—EMINENCE!—is what I meant to say. Why did you lie to His Eminence? Saying I was as dangerous a criminal as they came."
Wynn paused in her walking and leaned against a nearby sign labeled 'Get Good Newb Road.'
Are all the signs in this district insulting? And what's a Newb supposed to be?
"His Eminence, in all his benevolence and wisdom, is a tad…naïve." Wynn hesitated on that last word. "He is unaware of the dangers even a single criminal poses to the safety of this Kingdom."
"When the populace sees a name on a wanted poster, they don't just see a threat. They see someone that has gotten away with breaking the rules." Wynn continued as she held up her rapier.
"'If that man can get away with robbery, why can't I?' 'I need those emeralds to support my business. And it's not like it'll hurt anyone to borrow a few.' 'That man threatened my friend. Surely an exception to the rules can be made. He doesn't deserve to live!' 'The Cult gets away with mass murder every day! They can't be stopped, so neither will I!'" Wynn listed all those events in different tones of voice. No doubt she was mimicking crimes she had witnessed.
"Even the lowest of criminals can spark a rebellion within the citizens. A desire to break established order and endanger others." Wynn gripped her rapier tightly. "That's why criminals need to be imprisoned. No matter how small the crime, they serve as a threat. No exceptions So—"
"So you lie to make common criminals seem more dangerous to His Eminence?" I interrupted with a scowl. "That's not exactly fair."
"I prefer to think of it as stretching the truth to protect human lives." Wynn defended crossly as she brandished her rapier against my neck. "And don't act so high and mighty on lies when yours were only intended to save yourself."
I looked away knowing I couldn't exactly defend my side after all the lies I had said to the King.
"Accidents or not, you broke the law. And what you said does nothing to change the fact that, if it were up to me, you'd be imprisoned just like the rest of the trash." Wynn leaned off the sign as she continued forward.
"No matter how unpleasant it is, I'm not leaving you alone."
I sighed dejectedly as I followed the white-haired Captain. "Because it's your code? Because you gave your word to His Eminence?"
"Yes to both of those, but also for another reason." She concluded with a hair flip. "It's actually the same reason we're traveling through the Western District."
"Which is…?" I trailed off just as Wynn pushed me to the ground.
"Hey! What was that—" I stopped my protest when I noticed half-a-dozen arrows lodged into the ground where I was standing moments ago. "What?"
Someone had shot those arrows at me. An archer, or archers, from one of the buildings.
"Looks like they took the bait." Wynn commented as she discarded her leather armor, put on her original set, and threw down two splash potions. One bright green, one electric blue.
"Wait there." She ordered before she took off in a whirlwind of movement. She reached the base of a decaying building…
And immediately scaled it with a series of high acrobatic jumps and somersaults. And she appeared to be at ease in her efforts. As if she had scaled buildings all her life.
I stared in amazement as she reached the top in just a few seconds. She pulled out her rapier and began crossing swords with the archer who had taken the shots. I couldn't see much of the fight, but it was over in a matter of seconds. Wynn finished the archer off with an elbow to the face, knocking him off the building, sending him into a heap along the ground.
The next moment, Wynn had leapt to an adjacent building, adding a back flip for dramatics, as she located another hidden archer.
Except this one was not alone. He was accompanied by a female Crafter with a stone sword.
Still, Wynn appeared undeterred by the numbers. Each swing the female assailant dished out, Wynn dodged. Either sidestepping a strike, ducking beneath a swipe, or flipping over the assailant's head. Her ivory hair, despite whipping and whirling in tandem with her movements throughout the battle, remained untouched by any of the assailant's strikes. Bright green and electric blue particles danced around her.
Her style of combat was so graceful and evasive. Like a ballerina…
Whatever that is.
Finally, her fight with the two ended when she struck the female assailant in the back of the neck, knocking her out, and disarmed the second archer with a flourish of her rapier. Wynn held her rapier at his throat and the archer quickly put his hands up in surrender.
Her fight with the three mysterious assailants had drawn a crowd. Various bedraggled Crafters watched as if it was the only entertainment around.
Wynn tossed the two assailants she defeated onto the ground beside the first archer. A second later, she leapt off the building, landing perfectly on her feet despite the height, before moving to stand over the attackers.
Why did those guys shoot at me? I wondered as I took a step towards Wynn.
The next moment, I noticed a glint of something out of the corner of my eye. Without thinking, I threw myself to the right, barely avoiding a razor sharp iron sword belonging to a burly iron clad Crafter.
I quickly drew my stone sword and blocked an overhead strike before an iron clad boot struck me under the ribs.
I coughed in pain, losing a few hearts of health, as I was pushed back against a building by the burly assailant. His hand gripped my throat, cutting off my air.
Why…do…people…keep…choking…me…today!?
I reached down to my belt for my flint and steel…before remembering that I didn't have one.
Meanwhile, the burly assailant pulled his blade back in preparation to jab me in the gut.
Just as he thrust the blade forward, a white blur flipped over his head and landed hard on the blade, driving it into the ground.
It was Wynn.
She quickly kicked out at the assailant's face, sending him tumbling back and freeing my neck from his choking grip. The next second, as I gasped for breath, the Captain was repeatedly jabbing at the assailant, punching holes in his iron armor like a hole-puncher through paper.
It didn't look like the iron armor was doing much good against the rapier. Wynn's attacks were so precise and fast that they were passing right through the armor as if it wasn't even there.
The assailant made one last attempt to strike, but it was so pathetic that Wynn easily dodged it before kneeing him in the lower jaw and knocking him flat on his back.
Finally, the random battle seemed to have ended. Wynn kept her guard up, even as she called over two onlookers to drag the burly assailant over to the pile of knocked out assailants. I shakily got to my feet and used the building to support me.
After a quick glance around the street, Wynn returned her rapier to her belt and set a rocket shaped item on the ground. It soared into the sky in a jet of white sparks and exploded in a white burst extending into showering trails.
Wynn sipped a bucket of something and immediately the particles swirling around her died out. She called me over, to which I hesitantly followed as we left the street.
But I had so many questions. "What…what just happened? What was that back there!?"
"That was a firework. It signals the guards that there are apprehended criminals nearby and that they should hurry over to arrest them." Wynn explained without looking at me.
"Alright, but that's not what I meant." I continued. "Why did those guys attack us?"
"Not us." Wynn corrected, still not looking at me. "You. They were targeting you. Trying to kill you by the looks of it." She said that so nonchalantly!
It's not nonchalant, so don't act like it is! I wanted to shout, but I held my words because I still had some questions. Like…
"Why were they after me? I didn't do anything."
Wynn actually began to chuckle at my comment. "Indeed. You've done nothing. But, as I said before, your actions, big or small, have consequences." Wynn turned her head to face me. "You were seen during Kane's arrest and Kane has his own contacts that can undoubtedly smuggle a message out of prison for him."
I just blinked in confusion, not quite understanding her reasoning.
"Kane said so himself, didn't he?" Wynn commented with a flip of her hair. "You're a dead man."
Suddenly it hit me. "Wait, so…you mean all his Black Market buddies and goons—"
"They blame you for Kane's imprisonment." Wynn finished with a smirk. "They'll be gunning for you as long as you stay in this Kingdom. Especially in the most crime-dominated district." She gestured to the dilapidated Western District surrounding us. "That's why I can't exactly leave you alone. You won't last a day otherwise."
"Wait...wait, wait, wait." I tried to wrap my head around the concept of being on a wanted criminal's hit list. "If this is the most dangerous district, then why did we come here?"
Wynn actually looked slightly guilty as she turned away. "Well, I guess it just didn't cross my mind."
Ignoring her evasive answer, I thought more about how she acted before arriving in the Western district.
Suddenly it hit me. "You were using me as bait weren't you!? To catch Kane's men!" Shock flitted across my face as I realized why Wynn wore different leather armor to mask her appearance. She was using me as bait to fish for criminals!
How cold could she get!?
I was right in my assumption as Wynn merely ignored my accusation. "The reasons don't matter. You're alive, thanks to me, and more criminals are set to be put behind bars. Anyway, I think we've done all we could today. Time to head to my home."
"Don't change the subject! How can you use me as bait after I told you I'm a victim of circumstance!?" I shouted indignantly as she briskly strode away. "And for the record, it's not considered saving someone's life when you put it in danger in the first place!"
[Noman]
"Notch is dead!?" I questioned the very words I spoke aloud, but I had to say them just to clarify what I had seen.
Notch was dead.
Dead for quite some time if the date was any indication. His lifetime began when he spawned and ended 150 years later. Normally, an age like that would have sounded farfetched, but in Minecraftia, people can live forever and never age…so long as something else doesn't kill them first.
But what could have killed him? And why would he leave me the book message when he can't be here to teach me the rest of Minecraftia's dangers?
It came as such a shock because Helena had stated that the First 100 were some of the fiercest survivalists imaginable. She was so sure they were alive, so, by extension, I felt so sure that they were alive.
But, his very Head was lying on the stone slab.
I guess a lot can change in 500 years.
I fell to my knees as I stared again at that tell tale sign. I even glanced up at the statue to see what the man looked like.
I was expecting some kind of God given the armor he bestowed upon me. Instead, all I saw was a bald man with beady black eyes, a black beard, brown tattered shirt, grey pants, and black shoes.
Nothing really screamed 'Legend.' He looked pretty normal too.
Also, for some reason, the statue's hands were pointing down towards the slab his Head rested on.
Odd.
Now what am I supposed to do? I thought as I pulled out Notch's message book. The legendary Second that gave me the mission in the first place has been dead for 350 years! Why did he even want me to come here? Was I supposed to see that he was dead and couldn't support me in any way?
…wait.
If he wrote the book, he had to have done that before he died.
So…did he know he was going to die…and purposefully entrust this book to Helena?
And he mentioned a great evil…was that what killed him?
There were so many questions and so little answers. I felt myself growing frustrated. Did I come this far to be stopped?
"What am I supposed to do!?" I shouted at the statue, hoping for…something to happen.
Instead, the statue just stood as still as always. Almost tauntingly so.
"What am I supposed to do Notch!?" I shouted, not even caring if a guard or Captain overheard me. "Don't just call me here and then leave me in the dark! Answer me!"
But still, the cold stone of the statue remained silent. I shook in frustration.
There I was. The Billionth in name, but not in deeds. Masquerading as another number just in fear of being judged by others.
I thought Spark was onto something when she said that Notch chose me for a reason. That I had an innocence lost by most Crafters.
Well how was Notch supposed to appreciate his choice when he was dead!?
What am I even supposed to do now!?
Did Notch just reconsider choosing me in the first place and stop the trail of heroic world saving missions before they could begin? Was getting to the Catacombs just a cruel sick joke? To get my hopes up that I could actually be something!?
Or was the truth of the mission so blatantly obvious, that anyone but a newb could figure it out? Anyone but me!
"GRAH!" I shouted in frustration as I chucked the message book at the grave. Right at Notch's Head…
Only for it to vanish into the slab below.
…
*click*
"OW!" I fell backward after a book nailed me in the head and landed right into my lap…
*click*
…shortly joined by another book…
*click*
…and a cookie.
Something from the statue's head had spat those three things at me.
"What the…" I picked up the books and immediately noticed that neither were the same book I threw.
They were…different. One much older, ancient looking, and one about the same age as the one I threw.
And why the [COOKIE]?
I weighed the books and decided to open the same age one first. I immediately noted that it was signed by Notch.
Who knew that shouting and throwing things actually made stuff happen!
Anyway, I began reading the book.
[To Billionth.]
[If you are reading this, then I have died.]
[…Or else I left this book in the statue's head after rigging up all the stupid redstone and decided I was way too lazy and waaaaay too sober to dismantle it.]
[Easy way to check, though. If my Head is on the grave, then I'm dead. If not, I'm lazy.]
[At least I left you a cookie as congratulations for finding the Catacombs! Good work!]
[The book I left with Helena was set to trigger a hopper below my grave…it's all very complicated redstone crap that I had to have Jeb help me out with. I was actually debating putting a message in Helena's book describing how to unlock this message, but then I figured, 'I gave him the Severe Shield. He doesn't need any more help.']
I frowned at that written statement. He certainly could have left a message detailing what to do next.
[But, anyway. Back to important things…that is, if I'm dead. Which I probably am.]
[In a few days, I'm going to fight a great evil. I'm not so sure I can win, so I'm setting up counter measures. Thankfully, my opponent is giving me the time to give you, the Billionth, a trail to follow.]
[The evil I'm fighting…it's bad. And our arena is the Nether. A hellhole if ever I saw one.]
[But I'm leaving you these messages in case I die.]
[As the Billionth, you possess a power greater than any other Crafter in existence. You're fresh. You're new. And you have the innocence needed to prove me right!]
[But my opponent…his morals are eschewed and twisted. The Endward Cult are his agents and they will stop at nothing to eradicate all Crafters from Minecraftia!]
I paused in my reading. The Endward Cult. Those guys that died…I guess I attacked them before I knew I had to…or intended to.
[They need to be stopped, but I know very little about their identities. The Cult sticks to the shadows and strikes when you least expect it. Never forget and trust no one.]
[I know it's a lot to ask of you. You may have to fight the great evil, should I lose today.]
[But you won't be going in empty handed!]
[You possess the Severe Shield! The best offense and defense around!]
[But it won't be enough. It is only one of nine artifacts created by a very good friend of mine. The other eight are scattered throughout Minecraftia. It'll be up to you to find them all. It's like an Easter Egg Hunt, only instead of colored eggs, you're looking for crazy powerful gear.]
I couldn't help but worry about that last line. The Severe Shield was dangerous enough, but there were eight more artifacts just as powerful? And I had to find all of them just to tackle the Cult? Just how strong was the Endward Cult?
And what if someone else already owned those artifacts? If Notch wrote the book trail before his death, then they have to be at least 350 years old! Anyone could have stumbled upon them!
[The other book will have more details on the artifacts. It was written by my good friend, Herobrine…though he'll probably be sore that I borrowed it…]
[Meh, I'll apologize when I see him again…if I see him again…]
[Anyway, keep in mind, the Cult may be forewarned by their founder, so keep your number to yourself. Nobody can know you're the Billionth.]
[Guess that's it then. Best of luck. Enjoy your Cookie. And…uh…]
[…]
[YOLO!]
[~Notch]
I slowly closed the book, trying to take in all I had gleaned.
I take back what I said earlier. Notch did tell me what to do.
I need to find eight artifacts, scattered throughout the world.
Take on a Cult bent on killing all Crafters.
And save the world.
…
I…I don't even know what to think about all that.
I had already assumed I would need to protect people, but oddly enough, Notch's message was more focused on telling me to find items. It didn't even mention protecting people except as the main goal of stopping the Cult.
So I'm supposed to stop a group of killers. That's a lot different from saving people in need.
But that doesn't mean I shouldn't do both!
I flipped open the older book to check over some of the gear I would need to look for. I passed Herobrine's signature and several pages of informative text that listen one of the nine artifacts, its abilities, and its probable location.
I read the names to myself.
Let's see…
Destierro del Palillo
Arcticum Arma
Stivali Magma
Vivlio Zythopoiias
Bottes Zephyr
Yanhua Gong
Endabou
Voda Shlem
And the Severe Shield.
…
What was Herobrine thinking with some of these names?
I don't even know if I'm pronouncing them right.
I flipped over to the last page to read the Severe Shield's information.
[Severe Shield]
The greatest offense and defense of Minecraftia, it is a chestplate compacted with the greatest enchantments discovered through command block technology!
The wearer will have the following properties:
-four times their standard level of hearts courtesy of a Health Boost effect
-a Protection Enchantment with enough power to limit standard damage to half a heart per hit
-a Thorns Enchantment with enough defensive force to wipe out any attacking Crafter or Mob unless said Crafter/Mob was wearing full diamond armor with Protection Enchantment (for use against Mobs, keep in mind that the one hit protection only works on Mobs with 10 hearts of health. Endermen, having 20 hearts, will not die in one hit)
-a damage effect that can cause ten hearts of damage when striking with ANY punch or item…even a flower
-Infused with Infinite Potion of Water Breathing and Infinite Potion of Fire Resistance to facilitate travel through water and fire
-Feather Falling and Resistance Effect to limit Fall damage
I really went overboard with this…but it's not like I'm using it...Notch deserves it.
Appearance: It looks like a glowing diamond chestplate, but it has the name Severe Shield
Weakness: While useful on most fronts, the Thorns Enchantment is useless against Splash Potions, although it would take several potions of poison and harming just to take out a quarter of its boosted heart bar.
A certain Mob may also be able to pose a threat…but I require more research.
Ultimately, the greatest threat…is you. Don't shoot yourself with your own bow while wearing the chestplate as your damage output and Thorns defense would ultimately cycle into a huge chunk of self-inflicted damage per arrow.
Also doing so would be incredibly moronic. So it's doubtful that it would occur.
…
Maybe I should reconsider giving this to Notch.
Location: Ringwood
Holy hamburgers. I thought to myself as I took out the Severe Shield. Who knew it had so many other uses.
Still, I can't be tempted by it. It's too dangerous to be wearing so casually…even if I do need it to take on the Cult.
I put the books and Severe Shield back in my Inventory. As I headed back to the wall I had come from, readying my pick as I went, I munched on the cookie Notch had left me.
"Mmm…tastes like…my first step."
[Floyd]
"The Silver Intent?" I questioned as I looked upon the three Crafters: Soul, Cara, and the new guy named Brett.
"Yes." The silver-haired man named Brett replied. "We are an organization dedicated to stopping the Endward Cult and attaining justice for all the horrors they've committed."
"Brett! Why are you bothering to tell him anything?" Soul raised his voice as he stepped forward. "We don't need someone like him!"
"Really? You seem to know a lot about this man's character seeing as how you two just met and all." Brett stated pointedly.
"I…I've met him before," Soul reluctantly grumbled, "but trust me when I say the Intent is better off without him." I shrunk a little at his caustic words. "He's nothing but a coward who runs at the first sign of trouble."
Don't let him have his say. You can't just let him think you haven't changed! You have, Floyd! So show him!
"I'm not the same person I was before Soul." I stated confidently. "I messed up, I'll admit it. But I want to redeem myself…for Silent—"
"Don't act like you give a damn about him!" Soul snarled as he rushed forward and gripped my sweater. "When he needed you, you stood by shivering! If I was in your place that day…if I wasn't preoccupied with fighting…I would have saved him without a thought!"
"I froze, alright!" I shouted as I extricated myself from Soul's grasp. "I wasn't as experienced fighting Crafters…but now I am…I-I even killed one in a fight—"
"One cultist? Big fucking deal." Soul rolled his eyes sarcastically. "The few days I've been in the Intent, I've killed fifteen cultists."
"With help." Cara chirped up. I had actually forgotten she was still there with how silent she was being. She was also hiding behind Brett for some reason.
"Yeah, with help." Soul agreed as he glared at me. "Help from real friends. Friends who don't bail. Friends who stick through thick and thin!"
"Then give me the chance to try again!" I begged as I got on my knees. "Please! Just give me one more chance to redeem myself!" I went a step further by bowing with my head touching the floor. "Please."
A silence filled the room as I awaited his response. I looked up to see his face, and saw something flit across for a fraction of a second: empathy. Only to be drowned out by his overwhelming harshness. "I can't give you that chance."
"But I can." Brett interrupted as he stepped in front of Floyd. "Young man, you wish to avenge your fallen companion and prove to Soul how sorry you are?"
I got up from the floor with hope in my eyes. "Y-yes!"
"Would you do anything to see this goal through? Risk anything? Even your own life?"
"Yes! Anything!"
The silver-haired man leaned his face closer to mine. "Then, as the founder of this organization, I hereby welcome you as the newest member of the Silver Intent."
…
What?
"Brett—"
"We need the members Soul." Brett dismissed with a wave. "And you don't have to be this man's friend. All I'm saying is that, as a member of this organization, we should give him the benefit of the doubt. If he says he's changed, I believe him."
Soul looked mutinous, but he gave up with a grumble as he walked back to the double doors, Cara quickly following after him.
Meanwhile, I was still kneeling on the ground, wondering what I had just agreed to. Brett extended a hand to help me up.
"That was a very selfless thing you did." Brett stated as he dusted some dirt off my jeans. "Not many Crafters are willing to prostrate themselves for forgiveness. Very unorthodox, but effective."
"What are you talking about?" I questioned as I regarded the silver-haired man. "He didn't accept my apology at all."
"Not true. He was clearly struggling." Brett clarified as he held his two fists in front of me. "Between anger at you, guilt at himself, compassion for a friend, sadness for a comrade. I could see all of it and more. Which is why I think you can earn his trust again."
I blinked at the silver-haired stranger who had only known me for a few minutes. How could he think anything of me when we don't even know one another?
"It won't be easy, surely. But if you keep working at it, eventually the walls he's put up against you will drop. And of course, being in the same organization will give you plenty of opportunities to prove yourself." He patted my shoulder and guided me toward the double doors. "Now then, as our newest member, there are some things I should probably discuss."
Something about Brett made me feel…calmer. His words were nothing but genuine, and I was blindsided by how amiable he seemed.
So my easy reply was: "Lead the way."
[Cobb]
The Northern District was…to put it into words…indescribable.
It was the home of the Captains, politicians, and overall upper-class of the Kingdom so I expected it would be nothing short of perfect.
Yet it still blew away my expectations. The 'houses' looked more like mansions, abstract in design and situated on far more property than needed.
The entire district was surrounded by an iron fence labeled with 'no trespassing' signs and heavily guarded by patrols.
In the dimming sunlight, the Northern District's paved streets were lit up by lines of glowing lanterns. The lawns were so neatly cared for and some people sought to impress with the style of their lawn.
Some installed fountains and decorative pools. Others planted multicolored flowers in the form of lawn art. One mansion even had towering marble statues (at least it looked like marble) standing as sentinels guarding their main walkway.
I was so impressed, I completely forgot about Wynn using me as criminal bait…which was probably her intent in bringing me there.
Wynn's mansion was amazing in its own unique way. First, it had very little for a front yard. All of her property no set aside for her mansion seemed to be put into an enormous backyard shielded from view by towering shrubbery. There was no telling what her backyard held.
Second, her mansion had marble walls (again, it looked pretty much like marble), a dark wood roof, and white tinted windows. Two floors tall and wide.
And third…it looked so clean! It wasn't hard to believe that the Captain wanted to keep her home as neat as possible.
But wait…she can't be the one cleaning this place up. When would she have the time between her job as a Captain and correcting how people address the King.
Pardon me. His Eminence.
My question was answered as soon as Wynn opened the front door.
"AHH! M-miss Whispers! S-sir!—no—Ma'am! Forgive me, I was just in the middle of alphabetizing your private library when I noticed a speck of dust on the ceiling and I tried building a scaffolding to wipe it off but then I had to dismantle it because I made it from acacia wood and it clashes so poorly with the nether quartz walls and then I forgot that dinner needed to be prepared so I justthrewtogethersomepotatoesinthefurnaceandIknowhowlazythatisbutpersonallyIfeelthatlessismoreandthenuancesofasimplemeal—"
"Erin!" Wynn silenced the girl's one-breath rant with a single word. "It's fine. I'm actually in the mood for a simple dinner after everything that's happened today."
The girl, Erin, let out a sigh of relief before her eyes snapped open. "T-that sigh of relief wasn't because I felt relieved you had an exhausting day! I would never be so petty as to find solace in your misery! I mean even though your will stipulates that you'll leave everything to me and your death would provide me enough money to retire for several decades, I would never intentionally want you to die! No, no, no! Iwasjustsorelievedyouhadnoqualmswiththepotatoes. Not that I wouldn't have prepared a different meal if you so said so! Because I would have! It would have been—"
God damn, can this girl talk. I internally groaned trying to tune out her words. It was like her mouth was spewing out words at 100 mph. And how was she able to speak so much in only one breath of air?
She's be a perfect announcer for horse races. Or maybe one of those auctioneers.
While I waited for her tirade on types of meals (which sounded mouth-wateringly delectable) to end, I took note of her appearance by peeking over Wynn's shoulder.
She had black hair arranged in a ponytail, pale skin, and emerald eyes. She wore a black dress with white frills and a black skirt. Her belt and backpack were white. And the name over her head, read: ErinRunner.
After finishing my observations and tuning Erin out for an appropriate amount of time, I returned my attention to her.
"—after all, protein is very important in building up muscle. In fact, a good friend of mine once told me, 'Erin, there are five food groups: Meat, fruit, vegetables, desserts, and unmentionables. And of those groups, meat is the most important.' And then I responded with—"
STOP TALKING! Jesus-Hot-Sauce-Christmas-Cake this girl's still going!
She's talking so much that her tangents are going off tangents!
How can Wynn even tolerate this babble!?...actually…is she even listening right now?
I glanced at Wynn's amber eyes and saw them glazed over. She had a vacant expression as she stared at a spot above Erin's head.
Gah! She's tuning her out! I waved my hand in front of Wynn's face only to be met with no response. She's tuning her out really well too. Wish I could do that.
Anyway I need to make her stop before my ears explode from the word intake!
I coughed loudly to get Erin's attention, only to choke on a bit of spit mid-cough and proceeded to cough violently as I struggled to clear my throat.
For the record, it was probably because I was choked three times in one day that my throat was so messed up. Yours would be too!
Once I finally cleared my obstructed airway, I noticed the silence. The LOUD silence only brought on when a room previously filled with excessive chatter was suddenly quiet.
I looked up to see Erin with…a blush on her face?...as she finally ended her tirade upon noticing me. She probably didn't see that the Captain brought company. And her blush was most likely brought on by embarrassment over her excessive talking.
The silence seemed to have snapped Wynn out of her stupor as her eyes refocused on the scene before her. "Right. Introductions. Cobb, this is Erin, my housekeeper. Erin, this is Cobb, my…nuisance." She settled on that word while I sighed at being regarded as such.
But Erin didn't seem to care about how I was addressed. In fact, her attention was focused solely on me. She didn't even look like she heard Wynn's comment.
And her face was still red for some reason.
Weird.
"Oh…I-I wasn't expecting you to b-bring company over…I would've cleaned up m-more." Erin fidgeted as she straightened her ponytail and clothes.
"No need." Wynn assured as she stepped inside and placed her rapier on a frame and her armor on a strange human-sized stand. The armor fit the stand perfectly. "Cobb's standards of cleanliness are probably smaller than his brain."
I would have shot a comeback at her, but Brain was still reeling from his hangover. Plus she was kind of right. I'd been living in ragtag shacks, caves, and other unmentionable places. Oddly enough, prison was the best place I had stayed in.
"T-that's not very f-fair Miss Whispers." Erin defended to my surprise. "I'm s-sure…C-Cobb was it?" I nodded in response. "I'm sure Cobb is q-quite intelligent to h-have made it to Ringwood." As she defended me, her face grew more crimson.
Odd. Does she have a fever or something? Are fevers even possible in Minecraftia?
Wynn looked surprised at Erin's defense of me too. Then her eyes lit up in realization.
Then she looked from me to Erin's face.
Then she wore a knowing smile, until she schooled her features back to her neutral expression. "Well, if you could serve dinner then Erin, I would be glad to stop my insults."
As if suddenly realizing she was holding up dinner, Erin rushed out of the room.
Wynn guided us to a dining room with a large wooden table. She took her seat at the head of the table while merely pointing at a spot on the floor for me.
I sighed as I sat cross-legged on my designated spot. If she thought making me sit on the floor was punishment, she was mistaken. The soft carpet made it quite comfy.
As I looked idly around the room, I spotted the frame Wynn hung her rapier on.
Time to ask some questions.
"So, Captain Wynn. That was some amazing swordsmanship you used on Kane's henchmen." I praised trying to butter her up. "And the way you scaled those buildings and jumped everywhere…how exactly did you manage to do all that?"
Wynn glanced at the ceiling in thought before she withdrew a bright green potion from her belt. "They're called Potions of Leaping. One sip and you can jump a lot higher than normal. It's a staple of my combat style."
"And the rapier?" I asked.
"Also part of my style. Though I take it your style is, what, Crouching Criminal, Hidden Fishing Rod?" She chuckled to herself at her joke, but the reference went waaaay over my head.
"Don't mock the fishing rod until you try it." I replied sagely. "I'd be happy to instruct you on its usage…in exchange for the recipe for one of those rapier things."
"First, the day a newb teaches me something is the day the Nether freezes over."
Newb? Nether? Over?
"Second, a fishing rod is meant for catching fish, not criminals."
"And third, it's not a 'rapier thing.' It's a rapier, and I don't have the recipe for it." She crossed her legs as she gazed at her weapon. "They're special order weapons. Exclusively from the Western Kingdom of Exter, not that you've ever been there."
"How much do they cost?" I questioned as Erin returned with a pile of steaming baked potatoes.
"More than you can afford." The Captain dismissed easily, but I barely paid attention. Those potatoes were calling to me.
Eat uuuuuuuuussssssss…
Yes, oh glorious potato. I thought as Erin handed me a sizable portion. How nice! Though her hands were shaking and her face grew three shades redder.
"Um, are you okay?" I asked the housekeeper to which she replied with a short 'Eep!' before scurrying back to the kitchen.
Odd. First she was talking to much and now she's completely taciturn. Wonder what her problem is?
Maybe she's shy around strangers?
"I must say, Erin has terrible taste." Wynn spoke up as she looked at me.
I munched on a baked potato and almost dropped the rest of them from the sheer delicious taste. "What are you talking about? These taste delicious!"
"I meant taste in men." Wynn clarified with a suggestive smile.
"What does that mean? You saying she's a cannibal?"
The Captain's eye twitched in annoyance before she returned to her meal. "I don't know why I'm not surprised at your denseness."
I shrugged at her insult as I continued to munch on baked potatoes. Waaaay better than rotten flesh. No wonder she couldn't believe I ate the stuff when she literally dined on delicious food. And the potatoes were her idea of a simple meal? HA!
After I ate all I could, I stored the rest in my Inventory for future use. At least I'm stocked on food for the journey.
Erin returned with some water bottles. "D-did you enjoy the m-meal?"
"It was satisfactory." Wynn complimented as she wiped her mouth with a piece of paper serving as a napkin.
"It was delicious! I don't know why you were so worried about it." I praised as I flashed a smile. I figured it would be the best way to calm her shyness.
And it looked like it half-worked. Her face was still as red as a tomato, but she expressed a relieved smile. "Y-you really enjoyed it?" She fidgeted in place and refused to look me in the eye. "B-because if-if you want…I could…if you're still hungry…I could make some dessert…"
My eyes shot open. Dessert? On top of an amazing meal!? BEST DAY EVER!
"Yeah that sounds great." I smiled, happy that I was getting along with someone new. "If it's not too much trouble—"
"Oh no, no!" She waved off my concern with a nervous giggle. "No t-trouble at all! I'll b-be back in a jiffy!" She turned to the door and quickly rushed out of the mansion.
"Um…where's she going?" I asked the Captain.
"She's probably heading to the market to get dessert ingredients." Wynn stated as she sipped from her water bottle.
"Really? But I said if it wasn't too much trouble though." If I had known she'd have to go out of her way for ingredients—I still would have been okay with her going.
Hope she's making cookies!
"Yes. It is peculiar how my housekeeper is following your wants." The Captain pronounced each word as she glared at me. "I wonder why she's so eager to please you." She stated sarcastically.
"What? You know something?" I stood up from the floor. "Care to tell me?"
"Not my place." She stated simply.
"Well…can you at least tell me about some of the terminology used…and the Kingdoms?" I pleaded. It was important I learned everything I could about Minecraftia from a seasoned expert.
Wynn sighed. "Fine. Since I can't exactly go to sleep when Erin could return at any minute. I'll tell you. But listen closely."
"500 years ago, the First 100 spawned into existence. They spread throughout Minecraftia, creating the foundations for the ten Kingdoms known to us today: Ringwood, Nitebane, Daymonte, Oak Docks, Jolin, Dover Plains, Exter, Lazuli, Zeppil, and Akasha."
"As for terminology, Crafters developed their own classifications for the millions of people existing in the world."
"First, are Crafters. Which is to say, every person capable of crafting items."
"Next, there are Newbs, or newbies. They are Crafters with very little experience or knowledge. Mostly harmless."
"Then, are Griefers: Crafters who take no interest in mere survival. They are scum that wish to ravage and destroy and ruin everything that is not theirs. They feed off of despair and will often destroy everything a Crafter owns, without killing them, to cause as much grief as possible."
"But even they pale in comparison to—" Wynn stopped her explanation as she considered her next words carefully. She looked hesitant to explain the next section of people. "—I'll just skip those people."
"And finally, there are Jibbermen. Every Crafter is given a set amount of time to come up with their own name and escape the Void. But Jibbermen, they…they lost their minds to the Void…they couldn't figure out the naming process and ended up spending months, years even, stuck there. The isolation, the loneliness, drove them insane."
"After their set time has passed, they are ousted from the Void with a random jumble of letters and numbers serving as their name. In addition, their speech is garbled and ineligible and their minds a bit…off. Thus, we named them Jibbermen after their gibberish dialogue."
"And that's the kind of people in Minecraftia." Wynn finished as she leaned back in her chair.
Meanwhile, I was still thinking about what Wynn had said.
Those Jibbermen seemed the worse off. It was hard to imagine anyone staying in that empty Void for so long. And even after leaving they would never be the same.
I shuddered. Just thinking about it is traumatizing. I might not even sleep tonight. How am I ever going to get over what I just heard?
"I'm b-back!" Erin called from the other room. "And I b-brought cookies!"
Suddenly my sullen thoughts were replaced with the sugary diversion that could only be summed up in one word.
Cookies.
No wonder the Cookie Monster is addicted to these things. I thought happily as Erin handed me a stack of chocolate chip cookies. They're works of God!
…
Who's the Cookie Monster?
Oh who cares!? COOKIES!
*NOM* *NOM*
They taste like…Victory.
Victory Cookies. That has a nice ring to it.
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, 5 Cooked Fish, 24 Baked Potatoes, 64 Cookies, 1 Bowl, 1 Leather Cap, 1 Leather Boots, 1 Crafting Table, 3 Rotten Flesh, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Entry Pass}
Inventory (Floyd): Wooden Shovel, 1 Wooden Pickaxe, 1 Iron Pickaxe, 1 Iron Sword, 1 Wooden Sword {Weak}, 1 Wooden Axe, 1 Bow, 1 Flint and Steel, 1 Fishing Rod, 1 Furnace, 1 Crafting Table, 3 Sticks, 57 Oak Wood Planks, 1 Oak Wood Door, 1 Minecart, 1 Book {Miner's Warren}, 2 Flint, 2 Gunpowder, 9 String, 1 Pufferfish, 17 Cooked Fish, 10 Ink Sacs, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Entry Pass}
Inventory (Noman): 1 Diamond Chestplate {Severe Shield}, 1 Diamond Sword {Sharpness I}, 1 Bow {Infinity}, 1 Wooden Pickaxe, 1 Wooden Axe, 1 Crafting Table, 2 Oak Wood Planks, 1 Book {Notch Mission II}, 1 Book {Artifact List}, 1 Book {Citizenship Information}, 1 Paper {Entry Pass}, 1 Arrow, 1 Glass Bottle, 50 Steaks, 10 Enchanted Golden Apples, 64 Emeralds, 33 Emeralds, 2 Bones, 1 Gunpowder, 12 Rotten Flesh
AN: AGHHHHHHH! THIS CHAPTER!
Phew. Alright, lot to discuss. Finals have been digging into my writing time so I literally finished this chapter Tuesday night. Cutting it soooooo very close. If the chapter feels rushed...that's probably because it is.
I really wanted to split this up into two chapters to allow more time with each character, but the time constraints forced my hand.And I guess a TON of stuff happened this chapter. Hope I'm not dropping too much stuff of you readers.
Special thanks to PinkPanther530 for her OC: Courageous_Cara. You'll see more of her in the future.
I gave you readers a bit more of the world of Minecraftia and the people that live in it...as well as a list of Super Powerful Artifacts made by Herobrine himself! They're each named with a different language. Bonus points if you can translate all of them.
I was actually intending for this chapter to be more centered around the Silver Intent...given the chapter title...but there was only so much I could fit.
So...yeah...um...hm...eh...meh...uh... That is all.